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hyunjinspark · 2 months

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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 19

pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader

genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers

synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned.

word count: 40K (yeah....i promise it doesn't feel like that much!)

warnings: cursing, lots of casual drinking, mature content, angst, mutual pining, a shit ton of sexual tension, slight jealousy, making out, kissing, mature language, dirty jokes, arguments, reference to depression, some self-blaming, whipped! hyunjin, a lot of fluff

a/n: this is definitely one of my favourite chapters, and ends with an arc I've been looking forward to for a while. it's a very hyunyn centric chapter, which is why i love it. i honestly could have worked on this chapter forever, because there's so much i wanted to include, and i hope you like the finished product. please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read, and some light music to match. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!

important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.

masterlist

The snowflakes had settled on his coat, melting slowly in the warmth of the apartment, battling the cold from the outside where he’d left the door open. His eyes were filled with confusion, gaze moving from you to the duffel bag in your hands. The wheels clicked in his head, and oh, to know what went through Hyunjin’s mind when he put two and two together. You would kill to know how his mind worked, especially right now. His lips parted, but before he could say anything, you said, “What are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

His brows furrowed as some kind of epiphany sank in, “Are you going somewhere?”

It wasn’t an answer to your question, and you had no energy to justify yourself right now, “That doesn’t concern you.”

“What do you mean?” He took a step up tentatively like if he stepped too close, you’d run away. But you were, weren’t you? You were running away. You didn’t want to talk to him, not when all of your latest conversations with Hyunjin had ended in heartbreak. You had made up your mind, and you were going home. He obviously didn’t want you in your life, as he’d explicitly stated every time. So why the fuck was he at your doorstep?

You looked him in the eye, a bubbling anticipation rising within you at his possible reaction. He obviously wouldn’t care though, would he? He wanted you gone too. You swallowed, speaking clearly so he wouldn’t misunderstand, “I’m leaving, Hyunjin.”

“What?” A flash of confusion crippled his features. Just then, Jeongin’s voice carried through the stairwell, and you heard his footsteps as he ran up the stairs, yelling, “The taxi’s here! I already put your suitcases in the trunk.”

Hyunjin frowned, “Your suitcases? What is he talking about?”

Helpless, you stared at him. You had no clue how to explain this to him because it would mean admitting that you were wrong about everything. About moving here, about the classes, about Jieong… You weren’t going to be weak in front of him. His cheeks were red, courtesy of the quickly developing storm outside. It just meant you needed to get out of here as soon as possible, you couldn’t wait around for your train to get delayed because of the increment weather. It was fitting, because the snowstorm matched you. You tightened the grip on your bag, taking a step ahead, and your voice didn’t waver as you said, “It means that I’m going home, Hyunjin. To Daejon.”

“I’m sorry…what?” His eyes widened. You stepped closer, lugging your bag with you, “You heard me…” Finally, you came eye-to-eye with him in the middle of the staircase, “I never should have come here. It was my mistake. So you don’t have to worry about me being in your life anymore, and since you’re probably never coming back to Daejon then….” You swallowed, staring at him, and suddenly it was harder to speak the following few words, “Then… I guess this is goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He blinked at you, voice raising in his prolonged disbelief, “Wait…What are you talking about? What do you mean, you’re going home?”

You had no clue how to explain this to him, you suppose it was out of nowhere…but what did he expect? Right at that moment, Jeongin finally caught up to you on the sixth floor, and he stopped to catch his breath, hands on his knees, panting, “I have no idea why I just ran up all those stairs.” He straightened up, finally noticing Hyunjin, “How did you get into the building?”

Hyunjin looked back at him as if this was the last of his problems, stating bluntly, “I pushed open the door. It wasn’t locked.”

“That doesn’t mean you can just come into a stranger’s building, what the hell, dude” It should have been expected that Jeongin, obviously was unaware of and possibly didn’t give a fuck about idols. In any other circumstance, you might have found it funny. Hyunjin frowned at him, “I’m not a stranger. She knows me.”

You sighed, “Jeongin, I’ll be down in a minute. Thank you for getting the taxi.” Jeongin was still suspiciously glaring at him, then looked at you, face immediately relaxing, “Okay. The drivers really hate waiting, so I suggest you go soon, Y/N.”

Your decision was suddenly settling in and becoming more real. You gave him a nod, “Right. I’ll get going then.”

You stepped past Hyunjin, brushing his shoulder, and a part of you was satisfied that he didn’t have as big of an effect on you as he used to. You didn’t stop dead in your tracks because of him. You’d decided what you would do, and nothing Hyunjin could say would change your mind. It seemed like he was still catching up to this new information you’d dumped on him. His face was in disbelief as you passed him, and you hurriedly descended the stairwell. If you stopped to think about this decision, you might regret it, or you might cry, and you weren’t going to let either happen. The front door was in sight, and chills ran up your skin the closer you got. Your head was pounding with the weight of this hurried decision. You won’t regret this. You couldn’t. Daejon was your home, and you needed to be there.

Through the fog of your thoughts, you heard Hyunjin call your name. At first, your name sounded like a realization, and then it was more in desperation. The taxi waiting for you honked loudly, and you paused at the front door. Hyunjin’s footsteps were loud in the atrium, and he was running down the stairwell. He was running to catch up to you. It was a stupidly dangerous thing to do. He could fall or trip. That was the only reason you stopped, turning around in frustration, “What are you doing? You could get hurt.”

He gripped the rusty railing, and his coat flew behind him as he caught up to you, breathless, “What’s going on? Can you please just tell me?”

“It’s stupid to run down the stairs. What were you even thinking?” You frowned, heart calming down at seeing that he was okay.

“I’m not thinking.” His teeth grit together, and he was still breathing heavily, voice hoarse, “I don’t understand. Can you just please talk to me?”

“What part?” A sorry laugh escaped you, “I told you. I’m going back home. That’s it. There’s nothing more to tell. Goodbye, Hyunjin.”

He reached out, grabbing your arm to stop you, “No, but why?”

You weren’t going to tell him about what happened. Of course not. “I don’t know Hyunjin. There’s nothing in the city for me to stay for. Why are you even here? I thought you said you couldn’t be a part of my life.”

Hurt flashed across his face, which you couldn’t even comprehend. How could he be hurt right now after he’d pushed you out this whole time? You’d been in the same city as him for months, yet he never reached out to you, or apologized. He couldn’t just suddenly want something else when it was convenient for him.

“But…what about the classes? What about Kim Jieong? He wouldn’t want you to leave.” He knew nothing about your time in the classes, he had no right to question you now. You squeezed your eyes shut, and all the emotions you suppressed came up. Just then, the taxi honked again, and the phone in your pocket started buzzing too. You looked at the caller ID. Felix was calling and you picked up, eyes on Hyunjin’s briefly, “Yes, Lix?”

“Have you left for the train station yet, love?” He was concerned, so full of care for you. Your heart softened, and your voice dropped as you held the phone tightly to your ear, “No, I’m on my way. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“It’s getting late. I’m worried about you.” He spoke. Hyunjin was staring at you as you took the phone call. Your gaze briefly flickered over him. Even now, after running down the stairs and walking through a freaking snowstorm, he looked like some kind of angel. There was snow all over his coat and his hair. His nose and cheeks were dark pink, and his lips were still bitten raw. “Don’t be worried. I’ll be home soon,” You mumbled, calming Felix’s tendency to worry about you. Felix had an unspoken excitement in his tone, “Okay. Love you. See you soon.”

You swallowed, highly aware of the man in front of you, “Love you too.” It’s as if those words changed the atmosphere. Hyunjin’s tense shoulders dropped as if resigning to a chosen fate. When you hung up, pushing the phone into your pocket, Hyunjin spoke, “So you’re just leaving? That’s it?”

“Yeah. What would you want me to do? Say goodbye? Maybe I would have, if I still had any way of contacting you,” You said. A taunt and petty jab, sure, but it was also the truth. Hyunjin wasn’t there when you needed him, so why was he here now?

He closed his eyes in regret. He couldn’t argue that. He knew it was the truth. After all, you two were practically strangers right now. You didn’t know what was going on in his life. You didn’t have any of his information. Yet he was here, in your apartment building. Curiosity tickled you, and you tilt your head, “Why did you even come here tonight, Hyunjin? Did something happen?”

His eyes pierced through yours, “I… wanted to talk to you. I would have come before, but… I’ve been traveling all month, I couldn’t help it”

“Right. Japan. Must have been nice.”

You were aware you sounded like a bitch, but that was the only way you could distance yourself, so leaving him behind would hurt less. Except that would only work if he let you leave. He grabbed your arm again, pulling you close, “Y/N… what’s going on? Please…tell me what’s wrong.”

His eyes seemed so sincere. He seemed so sincere. And concerned for you. Your heart squeezed in worry. He must be so confused. If you really wanted to hurt him, you would leave right now with no explanation. It would show him how you felt, how it felt to be on the other side of things, to be cut off like this. But you weren’t him, so you’d at least try to offer an explanation.

“Hyunjin…” Before you could continue, the cab outside honked twice impatiently, and you realized all your suitcases were in the trunk. If the driver got pissed and drove off, your stuff would be gone too. Not that there was anything you still cared for in it. But you panicked, “Fuck…I would like to explain, but I don’t have the time. He’ll leave, and all my stuff’s with him. I’m sorry, you’re too late, Hyunjin.”

His face dropped into despair and that was all you had time to register before you turned away, walking out the door. The taxi was parked right outside with the engine running to preserve warmth. The apology was already on your lips, “I’m sorry sir. I got held up.”

The driver looked pissed as hell, and he glanced at you from his window, “You’re heading to the station? Because it seems like you’re wasting my time.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

He rolled his eyes, slurring words, “Either get in, or take your shit and get out”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”

Oh god.

Hyunjin had followed you out, obviously having overheard this. You turned to him, “I got this, okay? You don’t need to—”

“Dude, I have other customers too!” The guy yelled at him, clearly pissed by how Hyunjin talked back, “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Hyunjin was staring at him, eyes narrowed in annoyance. You didn’t know how he’d react. You’d never seen this side of him, and you reached out to him, “Hyunjin, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t”

He bypassed you, stepping up to the guy, leaning in to rest on the driver’s side window, “How much?”

“What?” The guy spat back.

“How much does she owe you?” Hyunjin repeated in a calm tone. The taxi driver was eyeing him back, “For this nonsense, three hundred thousand won”

You almost laughed, “What?”

“Okay,” Hyunjin replied, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He took out his credit card, and handed it to him calmly, “Please open the trunk”

The guy also didn’t seem to believe it, and he was wide-eyed, grabbing Hyunjin’s credit card to swipe it. And then with ease, Hyunjin grabbed your suitcases, pulling them out and settling them down on the curb.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience, sir. I hope you have a good night,” Hyunjin said to him, still in a calm voice that contrasted with the drivers’. The guy looked up at him, “Yeah. Whatever, dude.”

And then he drove off in a plume of smoke and snow.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?”

You’d been too shocked to process the state of things. Hyunjin looked back at you, the ever-present image of calm, “Can we go inside?”

You stepped up to him, in disbelief, “No, no, we fucking can’t. That was my ride. Why did you just pay him off? And three hundred thousand won? Are you insane? He completely ripped you off! And why the hell are you making decisions for me?”

“If you really want to go, I’ll drive you to the train station, but I’m not letting you get into a car like that, he seemed wasted.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms, “You’ll drive me to the train station?”

“Yeah, I will, if it means you’ll be safe.”

“From how you’re acting right now, you seem pretty wasted too.”

“Look.” He suddenly said, “Kairi told me you haven’t responded to her texts in a week. She got worried—”

“And she sent you here to check up on me? Kairi should know better.”

Hyunjin ignored your jab and continued talking, “And clearly she was right to be worried, because you’re moving out in the middle of the night in a freaking snowstorm!”

“I don’t owe you an explanation. Not really.” You stared at him, hugging yourself tighter. The snow was coming down heavy, wind building up so you could barely even hear each other. He seemed unaffected by every attack of yours, “I know you don’t…but… she’s worried about you. The least you could do is tell her what’s going on.”

You glared at him, “So you’re only here for her, right? If I call her right now, you’ll leave?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, sighing, “No…I’m worried about you too. I…don’t understand.”

Of course, he was worried now, the only time it seemed to matter the least. You were freezing, and the time for leaving seemed to have come and gone. You could book another taxi, but the snow was only growing, and there was still time for your train, so it wouldn’t make any sense to stand outside in this terrible weather. So you said, “Yeah. Sucks not to know things, doesn’t it?”

Hyunjin ignored the taunt yet again, and picked your suitcase up, “Can we please just wait inside?”

So, you didn’t argue for once and let him follow you back inside. It was just a matter of time, but this meant you’d need to have an actual conversation with Hyunjin, and you were dreading that.

“You live on the top floor?” He asked, looking up the atrium. You took your bag from his hands, “Yup. I’ll take that.”

“What, no” He didn’t let you, pulling it back, “You’re not carrying that up.”

It wasn't even heavy but you gave in, too tired to protest, letting him follow you up the stairs to your apartment. You were so annoyed that you only just realized that this meant he’d see where you live. You suddenly felt embarrassed. The stairwell was rickety and shabby. Your apartment was so small, it felt like a joke. And he’d see it. Maybe this was a bad decision, but it didn’t matter anymore what he thought. He probably already thought terrible things about you. He certainly wouldn’t have ignored you for months if he didn’t.

You pushed open your door, and he stepped in tentatively. There wasn’t really much for him to see, yet his eyes traveled across the entire space and all your furniture as he took it in. He’d never even seen your room in Daejon. So he must think you live like this all the time. Poorly and with no taste. It was laughable how different you two were.

“No art?” He questioned, staring at the empty, barren walls. A pang hit you as you realized, “I got rid of it.”

He glanced at you, eyes wide, “Oh.”

You sat on the armrest of your couch, facing him, and he still stood at the threshold, processing your apartment. He seemed weirdly fascinated with it and asked, “Can I come in?”

“You’re already like, halfway in, so yeah” You mumbled. He stepped inside, for real, shutting the door behind him. This all felt so insane. Hyunjin was in your fucking apartment. Why? You thought you’d got rid of all the anger in you, but you certainly hadn’t. Your conversation with Minnie and Jamie came back to you too. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her. Is that why he was interested in you again? That’s probably why he was chasing you again.

“So…um, I know you don’t owe me an explanation, but what about your friends? Kairi…and the people from your classes. Do they know why you’re leaving in the middle of the night?”

You stared at him, observing his expressions. If you told him about Kim Jieong, you’d have no idea how he’d react. You mumbled, “No. They don’t. It doesn’t concern anybody but me.”

He nodded slowly, hurt flashing through him, “Okay. Can…we talk about something else then?”

You crossed your arms, unsure what he even meant, “Yeah. We can talk about how my train leaves in three hours, so I have to be at the station before then.”

He swallowed, “You’re…not going to show me around your place? This is the first time—”

“From where you’re standing, you already saw all of it,” You replied, feeling embarrassed despite not wanting to care. He nodded, “Oh. So…you sleep on the couch?”

You let out a dry laugh at that. Obviously, he was right to assume that based on what you said, but it was still funny because it could have actually been true. You’d been so stupidly fucking desperate for the city you’d have literally slept on a park bench if you had to. Hyunjin frowned at your laughter, “I…I was just asking. Sorry”

“No, I sleep in my bed, which is in my bedroom and I don’t really see why you’d care about that, so…can you cut to the chase and tell me why you came to my apartment in the middle of the night, in a snowstorm?”

He swallowed, resting his head against your front door, “It wasn’t snowing when I left…”

“Oh, right. That’s inconvenient for you. You wouldn’t have come if it was.”

“No, I still would’ve come.” His eyes narrowed, “Please…just…can you talk to me normally?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I understand that you’re pissed at me, but I just want to have a conversation. I came here because I was worried about you. I would have come sooner if I could, but with my work it’s impossible. So please…can we just talk?”

No, you couldn’t because if you 'just talked’ to him, you’d remember how crazy in love with him you still were, after all his repeated rejections and ghosting, and not wanting you. You changed the topic, “You know that cab driver ripped you off, right? That ride isn’t worth that money.”

Hyunjin swallowed, “I know. But…he was drunk, and it’s not safe for him to drive anyone. With that amount, he wouldn’t have to take any more customers for the night. It’d be enough for the week.”

So he was still kind to everyone except you. Even to your wasted taxi driver. Good to know.

“There. I answered your question. Are you going to be answering mine?” He spoke, for once matching your fervor and energy. You stared at him, “Which question? You asked me, like ten.”

He sighed, stepping away from the door, and closer to you. He was so tall, he really did make your apartment seem small. He was almost as tall as your couch. You gripped the sides of the armrest, looking up at him. His face traversed many expressions like he was struggling with the right thing to say, and then he spoke, “Are you okay?”

You chose to be honest, chewing on your lower lip as you admitted, “I will be when I get home.”

His face fell, like he’d been expecting something else, and his whole body seemed tense. You suppose it was a valid reaction because this had been your dream, so he couldn’t possibly understand why you were running away. “But…”

“But what?” You asked, looking up at him, not wanting to leave any breathing room for emotions because now was not the time. If you went down that spiral, you’d never come back out, “It’s your turn to answer now. I still can’t understand why you’re here, after our conversation in the car.”

He contemplated for a second, looking away, and then back at you, saying, “I came here to make sure you were okay… that’s why I got on the first flight back home.”

You stood up, staring at him, “Flight back from where?”

“Bangkok.” He stated, a tinge of embarrassment in his features, “We had a schedule there…a show, but Kairi told me that you hadn’t responded to her texts, she was really worried…I had to come back.”

You stilled, and he surprised you for the first time that night. “What about the others?”

“The rest of the band is still there.” He spoke, “I just… couldn’t wait”

“You…took a flight for this?” You were having trouble processing this. He nodded, resignation and disappointment in his voice, “But clearly I should’ve come sooner.”

For a second, you allowed yourself the luxury to wonder if things would be different, had he come sooner. If things had been different, had he never left you at all. You couldn’t even imagine the other side of things — a reality where he stayed with you all this, and maybe all those bad things wouldn’t have happened to you. You couldn’t blame Hyunjin for everything that went wrong in your life after he left, but it sure seemed convenient to blame him. A myriad of thoughts overwhelmed you. He was confusing you too much. You needed to get out of this city, far away from here, and it felt like you were suddenly leaving with no good memories. Hyunijn was looking at you so deeply, so you swallowed your pride, “Can you do me a favour, Hyunjin?”

“Anything. What is it?”

“Can we just…stop by the Atelier before you take me to the station?” You asked, hoping he would oblige you in this last request since he seemed far too eager anyway, “Please.”

“Oh. Okay.” Defeat sank into his shoulders as he realised you had indeed made up your mind. Maybe he expected to hear something else from you. He didn’t protest though, because he had already agreed. In deafening silence, he led you to his car, which was parked around the block. When he opened the trunk, you saw his own suitcase. A simple black suitcase. He really had just come from the airport. It shocked your heart in a way you’d craved for all this time. When Yeonjun had come home to make up with Hana, you’d wished that someone would love you that much, to fly across the country for you. And Hyunjin did even more than that. He flew from another country… Yet you didn’t know what to make of it. He only came because Kairi was worried for you.

He carefully placed your bags next to his, as if anything was fragile in them but your clothes. He was uncannily quiet as he drove you, and you had nothing left to say. You watched the passing skyscrapers, and craved for the quiet of the mountainside back home. The Atelier wasn’t too far from your place, and he already seemed to know the way.

“So why are we here, Y/N?” He asked, as you both stared up at the towering glass building that was home to your classes. Seeing it now in the dark, it was one of the prettiest buildings you’d seen, built like art, for artists. You remember seeing it on the front page of the brochure you’d found years ago, and it had decided the trajectory of your life. It was still snowing, flakes falling on the two of you, and it was so cold in the parking lot. You owed him an explanation so you spoke, “This last week, I was working on a painting. It was becoming something really special, but… I forgot it in the classroom. I’d like to take it with me when I go.”

“Oh.” He simply nodded like it made all the sense in the world, not questioning this stupid request, and followed you to the front door. Obviously, nobody was here. It was after hours, and no security guards were in sight. You stared at the revolving doors, trying to figure out a plan. “Is it locked?” Hyunjin asked you, sounding impatient in this weather, “You don’t have the access card?”

If you entered the building with your keycard, it’d send a notification straight to Kim Jieong. That’s how he’d known you were here the last time. The memory sent you a shudder, and the last thing you wanted was to bump into him. You bit your lip, “Wait. I’m thinking.”

The cold was making you do stupid things, like shifting closer to him, so your shoulder would brush his. Simple body heat. Even through your thick coat, and his, the touch sent a flutter to your stomach. Hyunjin glanced at you as you did that, and his lips were becoming icy cold, “Well… it’d be nice if you could think faster. I wouldn’t want to die of hypothermia before you figure it out.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sudden sass in his tone, “Are you done?”

“Give me your keycard, let’s just go in.” He let out a breath, fog leaving his mouth. You frowned, not wanting to explain the whole story, “I don’t have one. It’s deactivated.”

“Okay…” He sighed, looking around the facade, “Is there another entrance we can use?”

You thought over his words. You had an idea. It was a stupid idea. You shrugged, hands deep in your coat pockets, “The back door.”

“Well, why don’t we just use that?” He asked. You shot him a tight smile, “It’s technically off-limits.” It was the emergency stairwell. You’d heard enough lectures about it, but you didn’t care right now. That was the only way to get into the building. You’d just have to suck it up. “I’m going to have to…technically break in.” You stepped ahead. His eyes widened, and he reached out to stop you, “What?”

“Only technically. You should probably go back to the car, because if someone comes here, I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble. It could hurt your…reputation.”

“No, it could put us in jail.” He stated matter-of-factly, and the cold must make him more sassy or annoyed or something. You didn’t have time for this. You sighed, crossing your arms, “That’s exactly why you should wait in the car. I promise I’ll be quick. I’ll grab my stuff and come.”

He let out a forced laugh, and there was a shiver in his voice, “What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be quick,” You reassured him. He stared at you, deadpan, “You’re not going in there by yourself.”

You frowned at his displaced concern, “It’s just an art school, Hyunjin, nothing’s going to harm me in there”

He glanced up at the towering building that did look kind of ominous right now, “You don’t know that. I’m not taking any chances.”

You felt frustrated because he was only protesting and not offering any solutions, “Well, you’re not stopping me, Hyunjin.”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“What?” You scoffed, “I’m breaking in. If somebody finds out, you’re going to get into trouble—”

“I don’t care.” He interrupted you harshly and then took a breath, repeating, “I don’t care if I get into trouble. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.”

Your eyes widened, watching him. Did he really not think of the consequences? He spent all his life protecting his public image, and now he was willing to risk it for you? His words sent an unpleasant feeling down your spine. He cared. He cared about you to the point that he was okay with being caught. That was a new kind of feeling you couldn’t process. All this while, you’d prioritised Hyunjin’s needs and the consequences in his life because he was so much more important than you. This was new.

“Are you sure?” You asked. He glanced at the building and then around the abandoned parking lot as if he was seriously reconsidering this absurd request. You saw the hesitation in his posture, his lips parting as if to say no he was only joking, and he would never do something as stupid as this. Then his eyes landed on yours. They flickered over your face, the cold in his gaze melting into strange tenderness, “Of course I’m sure. I can’t let you go alone.”

“Fine.” You nodded, breath coming out in a cold puff, “We should be quick.” He followed you to the back of the building, the big glowing EXIT sign, and the notice that read, ‘This is not an entrance. Please use front door access’

You sucked in a breath for good measure, pushing the door open, and when no immediate alarms rang, you stepped in. Hyunjin followed you into the darkness, and you switched on your phone's flashlight to guide you. You were still shivering. There was no heating in here, and he asked, “Now what, Y/N?”

“My class is on the top floor,” You whispered, just in case someone was in the stairwell.

“I’m guessing we can’t use the elevator?” He deadpanned. You gripped the handrail, “Yeah. Using the elevator’s too risky. If someone’s still in the building, they’d realise.”

“This painting must be really important to you.” He spoke, following you up the stairs into complete darkness. The Atelier was fancy, but this stairwell…was not. It was industrially exposed, the sound of a loud generator buzzing and a flickering light above you. There was a constant banging sound that you guessed was from the pipes in the wall. You tried not to overthink this situation, where Hyunjin was breaking and entering with you in your dream academy. Each little sound was putting you on edge. You heard him mutter, “This is really creepy.”

Over your shoulder, you peeked at him. He had his flashlight turned on too, and it shone into his face, dark shadows over his jaw and lips. “Are you afraid?” You asked. He shook his head, “Let’s just get this over with, Y/N.”

You climbed the rest of the floors in silence, preserving your voice and breath. It was still freezing in here, and you did feel bad that you’d dragged him along for this. But out of everything, this was the least he could do. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, you probably wouldn’t have had the courage to come here alone, not after what happened the other night with Jieong. You were glad he insisted to come with you, even if you never would have expected him to in a million years. Finally, you reached the landing for the highest floor and stopped to catch your breath. There was a door marked ‘Rooftop Access’, that led to the greenhouse-studio.

“Do we exit here?” He asked, reaching out to the knob. As he pulled the door open, light flooded the stairwell from outside. The lights in the studio were usually always turned off, but if they were on.… The cogwheels in your brain clicked just in time.

“Stop!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing him by the coat and pulling him back towards you. He stumbled, losing his balance in the dark and you steadied him. He braced himself against the wall, unintentionally pressing you to it.

“What are you doing?” He whispered, eyes wide.

“The lights were still turned on. That means someone’s in there.” You breathed, heart racing fast. You could have easily been caught. You weren’t really worried for yourself because you had nothing to lose, but Hyunjin…you really didn’t want to get him into trouble, even if he was completely okay with the consequences. He squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh. Okay”

He stepped away from you, and you could hear his heartbeat. “You scared me” He mumbled, after a while. He reached up to fix his messy hair, moving it out of his eyes. “I didn’t know you were scared of the dark, Hyunjin.” You mumbled. He narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m not. I’m…scared of people yanking my arm suddenly in confined spaces.”

“I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” You touched his arm, brushing over the coat, wondering if you’d grabbed him too hard. Had you bruised him? He didn’t stop you, as if he enjoyed being fawned over and then spoke, “So what is our plan? Are we going to stand in the stairwell forever? I thought you were in a hurry to get to the station.”

“We’re waiting for them to leave, whoever it is” You mumbled, crossing your arms as you leaned against the wall to rest, “I don’t want to run into anybody.”

“What if they decide to stay here the entire night?”

“They won’t. It must be a janitor. They’ll leave soon. Nobody even comes in after hours. The other night when I was—” You cut yourself short, not wanting to tell Hyunjin about the events of that night. He picked up on it though, tilting his head, “When you were what?”

You cleared your throat, “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

His lips pursed, but he didn’t question further. Suddenly, you heard footsteps. Hyunjin’s head whipped to the door, then to you, “Are they coming in here?”

Clearly he was still scared of being caught, despite all the talk of not giving a shit about the consequences. In panic, you pressed your finger to his lips, “Can you please be quiet?”

He instantly shut up, not that he had a choice with you shushing him like this anyway. His lips were soft to your fingertips, and you stared at each other in the low light of your flashlight. The footsteps sounded again, and you heard the elevator ding. Whoever was in the studio had just left. You were in the clear.

You retracted your hand, his saliva sticking to your fingers, and if it had been anybody else, you would have wiped it off immediately because that was gross. But with him…you didn’t care. You’d lick your own fingers to taste him, if he wasn’t standing right here. The thought crossing your mind was insane and you felt annoyed at yourself for trudging into that territory again. He wanted absolutely nothing to do with you the last time you met, and the time before that, and before that. Why were you so fucking weak around him? All your frustrations with him couldn’t seem to damper the attraction you felt. “They’re gone now” You mumbled, hoping to sound as emotionless and detached as you aspired to be, wiping your hand on your coat, and Hyunjin noticed that, his cheeks tinging pink.

“Let’s go” He slowly followed behind you into the elevator lobby, where the massive glass doors led to your studio. He looked confused, “I thought we were going to a classroom”

“Yeah. We are.” You replied curtly, pushing open the doors and walking onto the metal walkway. Plants drowned you on both sides, and your company's only telltale sound was his winter boots loud on the metal grate. Hyunjin was looking around in awe, he didn’t say anything, but his eyes would always give him away. He was awestruck. A small part of you was satisfied. You’d been dreaming of this reaction ever since you’d joined these classes. At least you got to see it before you left. He reached out, touching the petals of a dozen different flowers as you passed them, until you entered the studio space. You used to feel so much joy stepping in here. But it had always been coupled with sadness too —you’d been moving on from Hyunjin in this very space, and here he was, none the wiser.

“Shit. This is your classroom?” He stepped into the centre, doing a full circle, head tilted up to the glass ceilings. The view was so pretty at night, revealing the beauty of the lit-up skyscrapers. The famous city lights that Hyunjin loved.

“Yeah.” You nodded, walking over to the storage cupboards. You tried not to think of Kim Jieong and what had happened the last time you were here. You had a mission, a singular focus, and you ripped open the cabinets, rifting through them to look for your painting. It was a massive canvas, but maybe somebody had rolled it up and put them here. There was no way they’d throw it away, right? You’d been working on it so deliberately. They’d have to know it wasn’t trash. Kim Jieong wouldn’t do that to you either. But after looking through every cupboard, your heart sank. There was nowhere else it could be. Maybe he did throw out your artwork, because none of the paintings you’d made in the last few months were here. Shockingly, it seemed you knew nothing of him.

In defeat, you leaned against the desk, staring into the empty cupboard. You…had just wanted your unfinished canvas, as a stupid souvenir or something to take home with you so your time here didn’t feel wasted. You’d poured so much energy, hours of research and experience behind it. It was the first art piece in the city you’d genuinely been excited about, and now it was just…gone. Like it never existed in the first place, and you’d only been gone a week but it felt like you were already being erased.

A short laugh interrupted you. You turned to see Hyunijn bent over a telescope that looked out into the city, “This…is a dream. Holy shit.”

“I’m glad you like it” You mumbled, fiddling with your coat as you stayed in place. At least someone was having a good time. He glanced at you, cheeks red, and stood up straight, “This…is the coolest art studio I’ve ever been in.”

“Yeah. It is pretty cool”

“The range of this thing…is insane. I actually think I can see a planet from here” He spoke, focusing on the telescope again. It was cute, his tall frame bent over the telescope that was meant for much shorter people. He was so easily excited about things, like he had forgotten you’d broken into this building, and that you’d been arguing with each other less than an hour ago. It reminded you of how fixated he would get on the things he loved.

“A planet? Wow…” You mumbled.

“Do you ever use it in class?” He asked, excitement in his tone.

“No…I never got the chance to.” Your voice dropped, trailing off at the what-ifs and your missed opportunities. You were running away from the place you’d dreamed of for so long. All because of a stupid man. It wasn’t fair to you. Nothing about this was fair. Why had you worked so hard for it to be thrown away? He blinked at you, as if he noticed the sadness in your voice, “Do you want to?”

“I don’t really know how it works.” You swallowed, staring at the empty cabinets, and your heart felt so heavy, like a huge weight was pressing down on it, and you couldn’t breathe right. All of the anxiety bubbled up in your throat, filling your lungs with it too. Your lip quivered, a tremble traveling through your spine, and the heaviness in your chest was only getting worse as reality set in. You were never going to be in here again. So much for chasing that dream.

“Come here.” Hyunjin’s soft voice broke your avalanche of despair. You sucked in a breath, hoping any tears would disappear and glanced at him. He stood against the large floor-to-ceiling window, hands around the telescope, the city as his majestic backdrop. You didn’t want to protest. This was your last night in the city, you might as well indulge in it. You walked over to him, and each step felt like so much effort, your boots loud in the quiet room.

“Stand over here” He said, his voice low but filled with excitement. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of committing a crime right now?” You couldn’t help but say, wondering if it’d snap him back to reality, if he would stop being such a romantic. His lip curled up into a smile, and Hyunjin was so pretty in the moonlight, voice dropping into a secret, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

God. His words sent chills down your body, momentarily displacing that heaviness. A secret night with him. The temptation was screaming. You stepped up to the telescope, bending down to the eyepiece. Hyunjin grabbed your hands without hesitation, placing them in the proper position on the metal tube. His voice was tender as he explained, “Now, put your hands here, and try to look through the eyepiece in that direction.”

Had you completely derailed from the plot? Your train home was in a few hours. Each second being here was literally a crime. Still, you indulged him, squinting to see where he’d pointed it. You could only see black and perhaps you weren’t special enough to see magnificent things such as celestial planets. You felt frustrated, trying really hard to see, but it was a big blob of nothing.

“Do you see it?” He asked, voice a whisper. You saw nothing of significance.

“No…never mind.” You breathed, standing up straight with disappointment. “Wait…” He spoke, quick to want to fix it, “Can I…?”

You shrugged, not understanding what he was asking. He grabbed you by the waist, adjusting you slightly. His hand curled around your thick coat, and you wished he was touching your skin. He was so close to your body. Your breath was stuck in your throat, and then he said, “Can you try now? Bend down again.”

You followed his instructions like they were the words of god. You tried not to fog up with the eyepiece with your breath and to focus on the view, but Hyunjin was touching you and standing behind your body, so how could you possibly focus? You mumbled, “I just see…a big white spot.”

“That’s it” He whispered, leaning down, his mouth brushing against your ear, “That’s Jupiter, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you gripped the tube tighter for a better hold, “But it’s just a speck of light…”

He chuckled, breath warm on your ice-cold skin, “I know, we’re so far away from it, but it’s bigger than we can ever imagine. You see those two circles in the centre? Those are the cloud belts.”

“I see them.” You spoke, suddenly feeling so small. It was so huge, a real-life planet, and from here it was just a speck in the sky. Your place in the world felt even more trivial. It was so majestic. You tried to imagine all the pictures of Jupiter you’d seen, placing them into this context. Hyunjin’s hand was still on your waist, not that you could feel it much through the clothes, only a ghost of a touch. You straightened up, and he left his grip on you as you asked, “How do you know so much about this?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal, “I’ve been doing some reading. We’re lucky the snow stopped. Usually, nothing is visible. The lights and cloud cover are too much.”

You stepped away from the telescope, wondering where he found the time to read up about this between his very busy life, “I see.”

He had a hint of a smile, “What did you think? It’s surreal, right?”

It was. It was so beautiful....

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “My painting isn’t here. We should go.”

The smile on his face dropped, and he nodded, voice returning to a normal octave, “Right. Where do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know” You sighed, and the weight on your chest was back, and you couldn’t look at him right now, “I checked everywhere. They probably threw it out. I should just go to the station, it’s getting late.”

“Oh. Right.” His voice sounded hollow. You didn’t want to leave him. But he wasn’t even here, was he? He was just…doing you a favour, and then he’d go back to not wanting you in his life.

“I can…help you look for the painting” He suggested, “Couldn’t it be in other places? We can check the rest of the building.”

“No, it’s gone. We came here for nothing. Please, let’s just leave.”

His shoulders dropped in disappointment, “This studio is beautiful. I’d…actually do anything to have a space like this to paint in, feels like I’d never run out of inspiration.”

You stared at him, wondering what point he was trying to make now. Then he said, “Why do you want to leave this, Y/N?”

You didn’t answer him, a horrible twisting in your gut, and glanced at the exact spot you’d been standing when Kim Jieong cornered you against the table, making all kinds of suggestions to you. You felt sick to your core again.

“It’s not because of me, right?”

You looked at him, feeling overwhelmed, and suddenly, the weight wasn’t pushing down but pulling you instead. You felt like you were drowning, lungs crushing with the force of being dragged down and you had tunnel vision, overwhelmed with everything, “What?”

“You’re leaving. Is it…because of me?” His voice was low, and his words were not helping. You couldn’t tell if Hyunjin was drowning you, or savi you right now.

A lump formed in your throat, forbidding you from speaking as you processed those words. Were you leaving the city behind because of him? Maybe. He was a big part of it, but you’d never run away from Hyunjin. You’d chase him forever if you could. How could he even think that it was cause of him? You bit your lip, “If it was because of you, I’d be gone a long time ago, Hyunjin.”

You turned to leave, and Hyunjin’s next words echoed through the large room, “Please don’t go.”

Your eyes widened at his…blatant, crude request. He’d done nothing but push you away. How could he ask you to stay?

“I know… I’m the last person who has the right to ask you to stay, but… there’s so much for you here. I know you would love it.”

You turned to face him, “Like…what?”

It’s like he didn’t expect you to actually humor him, and he blurted, tripping over his words, “You can’t leave without having seen Christmas. Everything’s…a blanket of snow, and it’s lit up, and the city lights…are so beautiful, Y/N. You can’t miss that. You can’t not see them.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and you wanted to cry at this. What kind of reasoning was this? Hyunjin was asking you to stay, and you must be dreaming, right?

“Christmas is really far away, Hyunjin…”

He took another step closer, more confident like he'd found his reasoning now, “I know, but it’ll be so worth it. It’s my favorite time of the year. You’ll fall in love with it too. It seems like you hate this place, and it feels like my fault, but there is so much for you here. I’ve only been back a few months and I’ve already seen a hundred things you would love. You would appreciate them more than anybody, and I’ve thought of you every time. You belong here, not…in that town back home.”

It was so tempting, especially when he said it like that. “I can’t stay, Hyunjin”

He stepped even closer, “Why?” He asked, a desperation slipping through. He cared so much. You wish he had shown it before. It didn’t matter now. Things had immeasurably changed, in this very room. You had been trying so hard to not feel the weight of everything, but it was impossible. Not when he was looking at you like that.

The dam broke.

A single tear at first.

Then a sob. “Hyun…”

Immediately, without any question or hesitation, he closed the distance between you and pulled you into his arms.

His touch brought on a wave of tears. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest, pitiful sobs bubbling to the top. For the longest time, he just held you in his embrace and you cried. All you could register was his hold on you, and his heart racing against your ear. He squeezed you tightly, hugging you to him to pull you even closer to his body, “Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“He…he tried to—” You sniffled, unable to form the words.

“What?” He tensed in your grip. He clearly hadn’t expected to hear anything of that sort, but his hand still ran circles over your back, “Who did what?”

“Kim…Jieong.” You mumbled, eyes squeezed shut in his chest, not wanting to burden him with this knowledge but your throat felt clogged with emotion that you couldn’t contain within yourself anymore, “He…said I could convince him”

You were aware that you made no sense, but it was enough for him to understand. Hyunjin pulled back, hands holding your shoulders as he looked at you, and his eyes were wide, “What? Did he touch you?”

“No…” You sniffled, lip trembling, “He…just…”

Hyunjin’s hand came up to your face, holding your chin unbeknownst that your professor had tried the same. You were only filled with terror when Kim Jieong did that, but right now…you felt the safest in the world. Your face was hot, his hand was warm on you. His thumb wiped your tears, the other hand holding your face tight, “What did he do?”

You shook your head, vision blurry from the tears in your lash line, and you had no idea how to explain this, “Hyunjin. I… don’t even know how to deal with this.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what I’m here for.” He said. You looked up at him, eyes blown wide, “What do you mean?”

He took in a breath, still holding you strongly, as his thumbs gently wiped the tears streaking down your face, and his soft gesture was a stark contrast to his next words, “Tell me what he did. I’m going to talk to that piece of shit.”

“No, you can’t. I…I don’t have any proof, Hyunjin and I don’t even know if he was trying something—” You trailed off, struggling with your words but he wasn’t even listening. He was staring into the distance, “I have to go talk to him.”

“What?”

He started walking out. What the fuck was he doing? You ran after him, tugging at his arm, “What are you talking about? It’s the middle of the night.”

He turned to you, his eyes were dark, and his jaw was clenched. and there was more emotion in his face than you’d seen in the past hour as he said, “He…he fucking touched you. He can’t… do that.”

“Oh my god, you can’t go after him”

“Why?” He asked, eyes searching yours. You weren’t equipped to deal with whatever anger he held in him. It seemed like Hyunjin had quickly forgotten who he was in this world. A world-famous celebrity who definitely couldn’t go after a renowned artist, especially not at this time of night. As much as you appreciated the gesture, it wasn’t thought out at all, and it pissed you off, “You don’t even know what happened, Hyunjin!”

“It doesn’t matter. I know enough.”

“Can you please just…calm down?” Your eyes widened, regret soaring through you, “I…I knew I shouldn’t have told you. It was a mistake.”

He frowned, stepping closer to you, “Fuck. Don’t… don’t say that. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to react. I just wanted you to listen.” You said. He let in a deep breath, like he was physically calming himself down, running his hands over his face, “Okay. I am listening. I just…need a second.”

You could see the anger surging through him, and you mumbled, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I’m…not thinking straight. I’m sorry, I just…”

“I should never have brought you here. I could have been on the train home already. You were right, okay? I am running away.” You admitted, lip trembling, “I’m sorry.”

His voice softened at your state, “What are you apologizing for? Stop. You didn’t do anything wrong”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, and you realised you’d have to tell him the whole truth now, because you’d stupidly brought it up. You wiped at your face with your sleeve, but he reached into his coat pocket, handing you a tissue, “Let me…”

“You…carry tissues with you?” You vaguely registered through your clouded judgement, wiping your face. He was quiet for a minute, and you tried to collect yourself. You were embarrassed, and your face was burning hot from crying, and from the shame, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cry…I ruined your coat.”

“Come here…” He led you to the nearest table, pulling you to sit next to him. He hesitated before reaching out, hand on your back as he spoke, “I’m sorry for reacting. I…I didn’t expect to hear that, but you can’t understand how this makes me feel. I know you don’t want to talk about it but I’m going to drive myself crazy if you don’t tell me what happened.”

He was right, and you probably would have reacted worse if someone had hurt Hyunjin. You would have lost your mind. You had thrust this information upon him unwillingly, and he did deserve to know the truth of it. Now that you tried to recall it, most of it felt like blanks in your mind and you muttered, “There’s an art scholarship that we were told about. It was a big one. If we won, it would pay for the rest of our year, and we could present our work in this gallery. It was supposed to be a huge honor. I was working on a painting for it the other night. I was here by myself…and…Jieong saw me working. I don’t…know how it led to that. I don’t remember most of it, but he said he liked that I was… desperate.”

“What?” Hyunjin interrupted you. You swallowed, “He said that I was desperate to be liked and respected and that I could go a lot of places in the world, if I…convinced him somehow. That all I had to do was ask him…and my dreams could come true.”

He scoffed, “By sleeping with him?”

“I don’t know. I left after that.” You mumbled, staring at the floor, “I was really confused.”

“He hurt you?”

You shrugged, a fresh wave of tears springing up, “No…at least not physically”

His hand reached out to yours, “I’m…really sorry that happened, Y/N.”

You pulled your hand back before he could touch it. You weren’t here tonight to seek Hyunjin’s comfort. You were just offering him an explanation so he wouldn’t be left in the dark after you were gone. You said, “But nothing even happened, Hyunjin. Nothing I can prove anyway. Except that he’s cancelled my scholarship.”

“He can’t do that” He said. You mumbled, “I missed out on an entire week of classes. He…has valid reason now.”

“Did you tell anyone?” He asked, “Any of your friends from class?”

As if having this conversation once wasn't embarrassing enough. You didn't plan to tell anybody else about it. It would be a secret you'd take to the grave. If you told people, all they'd question was your obsession to come here in the first place. After all, why would a married man come on to you at all, risking his career? You must have come on to him -- at least that's what everyone would think. You shook your head, “Nope…Just…you.”

“I’m…sorry that this happened. I wish I could…do something to help.” He spoke. You looked at him, unable to comprehend that he was being kind to you again. He was so tender and caring right now, but how long could this really last? The last time he was this tender was in the storage closet, and he’d kissed you so passionately and then immediately cut you off. Wasn’t this compassion just temporary? You stepped away from him, running a hand over your face to wipe away the dried tears, “Yeah. No biggie.”

He noticed the change in your demeanor, dropping his hands to his lap, but said nothing of it. You stared at the place where Jieong had tried to make a move, and where your canvas had been. You wish you hadn't come here that night at all, then you could have been blissfully unaware of his behaviour and stayed happy. The longer you stayed here, the sicker you felt.

“We should talk about this in my car.” Hyunjin said, offering his hand to you again. You stared at his soft palm and inviting touch, but you didn’t take it. If the rejection hurt him, he didn’t show it. You just hugged yourself, “Okay”

You followed him into the elevator lobby, about to head for the stairwell again, but he pressed the button for the elevator. You frowned, “We can’t go out the front door. If they see you—”

“I really don’t give a shit about that right now” He spoke, pushing a hand through his hair, and you noticed how tense he was, “If they catch me, I’d have a lot to talk to them about anyway.”

“But… this is not worth it.” You spoke, as the elevator doors opened. He took in a breath, facing away, running another hand through his hair, you realised he always did that when he was nervous, “I just… can’t believe they let an artist like that work with them.”

You steadied yourself against the elevator wall, as the floors went by. The doors opened into the lobby. You prayed that nobody was in there. No matter how much Hyunjin didn’t care, you didn’t want to cause a scene and you definitely couldn’t handle jeopardizing his job. If anybody saw you two… they could call the cops and he couldn’t afford to be put under scrutiny. It would risk his career and everything else that mattered. Uncaring of this, he stepped into the lobby, footsteps loud as he walked towards the front door. You followed, looking around and thankfully, the front desk was empty. The odds were in your favor, perhaps. He almost looked disappointed that there was nobody to confront as you exited the building. He was walking so fast, and you struggled to keep up as you made your way to the parking lot. Once you were sitting inside his car, you asked him, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”

“I don’t know. He…needs to be fired. He can’t just get away with what he did to you. Once he gets fired, they’ll put in a new teacher, and…you can continue the classes. And for what they’ve put you through, they should grant you a new scholarship anyway, no questions asked. He should be the one to leave, not you.”

Before you could think about his words, your phone on the console buzzed, and you both glanced at it. He read it the same time as you. There was a text from Felix. have you made it to the train station yet, baby?

Hyunjin looked up at you, eyes that were suddenly devoid of anger, but…a new desperation, “Do you…still want me to take you?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling the weight of everything on your shoulders again. Your suitcases were packed and waiting in the trunk. Your train was booked. You’d made your decision. You stared at the window, “Your…plan sounds fine Hyunjin, but… I’m not important enough for them to fire their biggest artist ever. Nothing good can come out of me staying here with that false hope.”

His eyes flickered over your features before turning away. He started the engine, and said nothing, pulling out of the driveway. You tried to gather your emotions, watching the snow piled up by the sides of the street. Your first and last snow here. You imagined being home already. It would help so much. Felix, Minho and all your friends. You'd go back to working at the art shop. Maybe you could pay a grand and enroll in the classes at the Chateau, and practice art under Seungmin. Nothing would come out of it but at least you’d be occupied. Some people weren’t built for greatness, and you could be okay with that, unlike the boy next to you. Hyunjin suddenly spoke, hands gripping the wheel tightly, “It’s not false hope. Something like this can have serious repercussions. You should’ve told me the second he did that. He would already be out of his job by now.”

He was redirecting the conversation to him, when it was about you. Your head hurt at this faux chivalry. Did he really even care about Jieong or did he just want someone to pin his anger on? You stared at him, “I don’t even have your fucking phone number, Hyunjin.”

He stopped the car, bringing it to the side of the road. You hadn’t reached your destination yet, and you were in the middle of a random neighbourhood. You stared at him, unsure of what was going through his mind, “What are you doing?”

He reached into his coat pocket, took out two identical phones and handed one to you, “I was going to give you this tonight.”

You grabbed it from him, “What is this?”

“It’s…a phone with my number on it” He said, looking right ahead, “I bought it for you.”

Your brows raised, “You…bought me a phone?”

“And this one…” He lifted his own identical phone, which also seemed brand-new, “This is mine. The only thing on it… is your number.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s so we can talk to each other” He turned to face you, “And nobody can trace it back to us, The phone isn’t connected to anything else, except…to each other.”

You blinked, trying to process this, “Oh”

He looked frustrated as he spoke, “I know what I said to you last time. I know that I said we can’t be in each other's life, but… I’m trying my real hardest to find a fucking way around it. What I did and said was uncalled for. I realize that…it hurt you, but you have to cut me some slack, Y/N. I’m…really trying to figure it out.”

“I’ve cut you more slack than I ever would with somebody who’s made it absolutely clear they don’t want me around them” You blinked. He sighed, “I’m sorry. I understand that what I said hurt you, and…I really didn’t mean to. You know me, Y/N, better than anyone in my life and…I would never want to hurt you like that.”

“Then why did you say all those things…?”

He let out a sigh, turning to look at you, “I was only thinking about myself. I guess… I was running away too.”

You stared at him, the irony of tonight striking you. You were blaming him for what he’d done, when you were now doing the exact same thing.

All the fight died down in you.

“We’re more alike than I thought.” He mumbled. Maybe now you could finally understand where he came from. The urge to shut down and cut everybody out had felt far too tempting. You glanced at him, holding the phone tight in your hands. This could be the last time you saw him. He’d never come to Daejon, and you couldn’t afford to come back here. Was this really it? The last time you ever saw Hyunjin. A new emotion overwhelmed you, and you weren’t ready to say goodbye so soon. “Can you please just tell me something before I go?”

His hands rest on the steering wheel, and it seemed like he’d already given up on convincing you to stay. His question came out defeated, “What do you want to know?”

You stared at his side profile, “How did you get the pictures? The ones from the booth.”

“I…went back.” He responded, not questioning the randomness of what you’d just said. You were confused, “What? Went back here?”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel, “Later that night, I went back to the summer carnival. After you’d already left. When we were in the booth, I deleted our pictures before they could be printed, but…they were still saved to the database. The machines have a backup server, they keep the data for a few hours before it’s overwritten.”

“How was that even allowed?”

“The guy that works there, I…asked him for a favor…and he obliged because well, it’s stupid…”

“Tell me.” You breathed, itching to know the story you’d been wondering for so long. His lip curled up into a reminiscent smile, “I promised to sign this album for his little sister. She really liked our band. Anyway, the guy, he let me access the backup, and…I printed them out.”

Your heart jumped at all of this effort, “Why did you do all of that after deleting them?”

He swallowed, “I changed my mind. I told you, Y/N…I wanted to remember that moment. I needed to.”

You looked away into your lap, “Oh…well…thank you for putting them in my sketchbook, but I’m sorry… I lost the pictures.”

“You what?” He looked at you. You breathed, feeling guilty, “They got ruined…so you did all of that for nothing.”

“Oh.”

There was no way for you to get them back. The summer carnival was long over, and the pictures were erased. It was strange how you two talked about them, clinging to a memory that was long gone, and he never questioned you and why you wanted them. He didn’t question why you were so fixated on them or what they could possibly mean to you. Hyunjin nodded, eyes glazing over you as if he lost deep in thought, “How did they get ruined?”

“They got wet in the rain.” You swallowed. He still seemed shocked at your previous statement, “So…you had them with you? I thought that you would throw them away, after we stopped talking…I thought you hated me.”

“You know me. I hold on to things stupidly, even if I was mad at you. Anyway, not that it matters now…” You shrugged. He nodded, like he was still in his head, and then he reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet. He opened it, pulling out a strip. Your eyes widened.

He had them. In his wallet.

“You made a copy?” You couldn’t believe it. He let out a laugh, saying, “I went to a lot of effort for these, Y/N. Do you really think I wouldn’t have made a copy?”

“And… they’re in your wallet.” You realised. He swallowed, “Yeah”

“Have they been in your wallet this whole time?”

He blinked, “Yeah. In hindsight, it was a really stupid decision because if I ever lost it, anybody could have seen these. Guess I haven’t been thinking straight, but…you can have my copy”

You delicately grabbed it from him, and it was only worth a few coins but you handled it like it was worth millions. It was a treasured memory. A moment when you’d given in to each other completely, and you had been so happy then. You'd give anything to have those secret moments again, even if they stayed a secret forever. Nothing had felt as rewarding as his lips on yours, making you feel like he wanted you just as bad.

His copy was wrinkled, like he’d taken it in and out of his wallet a million times to look at it. Your copy used to be pristine, it stayed in your sketchbook but his…it was tattered with use. There were folds after every image, and you slowly moved your fingers over them. Your voice was soft, “Have you really changed your mind?”

“About what?” He asked, curiously. You looked at him, “You showed up at my doorstep. It must have been…for something.”

“I changed my mind about a lot of things…” He spoke, the dim streetlights reflecting in his eyes. Curiosity overwhelming you, your voice was a whisper, “You said you were running away too. What made you stop?”

In the darkness of the car, the shadows on his face were intense, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he said, “That night in the car. You said that… all this time you haven't been okay, and that you still aren’t and I couldn’t stop thinking about that. You said you didn’t know the real me, and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Who I was in Daejon, that’s…the best version of me, and it took me a really long fucking time to realize that. It was an asshole move that I did. I know I apologized to you, but I wanted to do it again tonight. I’m…really fucking sorry for pushing you away, Y/N. I should have just explained what was going on.” He paused, “But…I guess I’m too late since you’re leaving anyway, right?”

You looked away from him to the snow on his windshield, “Yeah, what will I do in Seoul anyway?”

“He should be the one that’s scared of you, not the other way around”

“Why would he be scared of me?”

“Because you can literally ruin him, and his career. Who knows if you’re the first person he did this to?”

“Well, clearly nobody spoke up against him yet. He’s a legend. Nothing I say will change that, and I…really don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this. I just…want to stay away from it and pretend it never happened.”

He sighed, “I have to tell you about Karina”

“What?” You looked at him.

“She’s…a friend, I guess. A couple of months ago, I asked her if she could get me in touch with Jieong. I wanted to talk to him for you, but she said she isn’t on good terms with him. Something about the way she said it makes me think that she’s been through something similar, like you, and that’s not fair. He doesn’t just get to do that and still have a fucking platform where people worship him.”

Frustration crawled from your chest, “What am I supposed to do about that, Hyunjin?”

He squeezed the steering wheel, “I don’t know, but I’ll help you figure it out. You’ve wanted to come to the city your entire life, you even hid it from your friends, you worked every summer for it. You can’t just give that up so easily. You have to stay.”

“Stay and do what, Hyunjin?”

He turned to face you, shifting closer in the little space, and his voice was quaking with nervousness, staring right into your eyes, “I don’t know. We’ll figure that out too, but…I know you, and this isn’t you. What you did, coming here all by yourself, getting into the program, that wasn’t easy. You did something most people can only dream of, and I know I didn’t express myself well, and that I should have told you sooner but I’m… I’m so fucking proud of you. My first few years here, the only reason I could survive was the members but you…you did that all by yourself. But… you’re not alone, not anymore. If you want to report Jieong, I’m going to help you. If you don’t want to do that, I’ll respect your choice.” He swallowed to breathe, lip trembling, “If you want to stay away from that drama, I’ll understand, but please…please don’t stay away from me.”

Your eyes widened, hearing his plea, and your heart was beating so loud you feared it’d burst out of your chest. Your gaze searched his, and all you saw was honesty and…fear.

For the first time ever, you recognized the look on his face.

He was scared of losing you.

He had flown all the way here just to say this to you, and despite how horrible everything seemed…he was here with you. Your heart was shaking, unable to comprehend this side of Hyunjin, and you found yourself saying, “Tell me about the Christmas lights.”

His eyes lit up, “They… they’re beautiful. They cover the whole city with them, it looks like a dream and…you have to see it. If not for long, at least stay till then, and…you can make your decision after that.”

Your eyes flickered over his form, and the desperation in his face that made your heart beat faster than it had in a while, “Okay.”

He let out a breath like he couldn’t believe your words, “Okay?”

“The lights better be worth it, Hyunjin.” You spoke, and he laughed, at your words in slight disbelief and relief. You felt a strange sense of relief too, as he drove you back.

»»————-

Hyunjin was in your apartment again. He helped you bring the suitcases up, and he was breathing heavy as he shut the door. The snow had stopped, but the temperatures had dropped more. He rubbed his hands together, blowing on them. Your apartment wasn’t much warmer, but it was still a relief to be indoors, after the long night you’d had. You looked at him from across the room, standing in your little kitchen, “Do you…want tea?”

He stood out so much in this little space. He looked at you, “I can make it for us.”

“No, that’s fine…” You declined his offer, turning to your cupboard to bring out the little box of specialty tea you’d procured from a nearby market. In your peripheral, he simply nodded, looking around the living room. You’d unknowingly put as much distance between the two of you. Him being in your space made you so nervous. Earlier, you were in such a rush, but now…he could actually see things for what they were. You’d ripped your art from the walls, but other traces of you were still here. Your little tray of knick-knacks on your coffee table, the fluffy pink blanket on your couch, and the little plants that decorated the space. You hadn’t bothered packing them up, and now you were glad you hadn’t because you wouldn’t want to redecorate all over again. He stood still near the door, taking everything in.

“You can take your coat off.” You realised belatedly. He seemed uncomfortable in it, and it was wet from the snow. He looked at you, “Right. Okay.”

You’d taken yours off, and you stood in your white sweater. He slipped his coat off, and he wore a black turtleneck inside. He seemed so awkward. You were too. You knew that things wouldn’t just go back to normal, you couldn’t just pick up where you’d left off. Instead you watched the water in the pot boil, bubbles coming to the surface.

“Have you been to Myeondong yet?” He suddenly asked. You looked at him, stirring the water, “Uh, not yet. What is it?”

“You haven’t? It’s a popular street here. They have a lot of shops, boutiques and food. They have really good street food. I think you’d like it.”

“Do you go often?” You asked, and stopped yourself from suggesting that perhaps he could take you. He replied, “No, it’s…too crowded. I can go but the company doesn’t recommend it.”

You nodded, turning back to the pot, glad you hadn��t asked only to be shut down by him. It was stupid to think otherwise, “Right. You need their permission. Do they know you’re here?”

You heard a soft sigh, and perhaps you’d offended him, “No… I know it doesn’t seem like that but we can still do whatever we want. It’s not like we’re under constant supervision…it just feels like that because they’re not the only ones watching us, we also have to worry about the media, about…anybody with a camera who might see me.”

“I saw Baekhyun at a club once.” You blurted. His eyebrows shot up, “You did?”

“Mmh. He was making out with two girls at the bar, and nobody really seemed to care” You elaborated. He nodded, “Yeah. He’s famous enough to get away with it.”

You bit back a scoff, “Get away with what…? Kissing? You make it sound like a crime, Hyunjin.”

You were clearly more honest with him than you had been in the past, ridiculing all the crazy stupid standards of the industry he was a part of. Since when did people like him let a commercial, capitalist corporation decide how they live their lives? It irked you that Hyunjin gave into it so easily. Why didn’t he challenge it? Why was he just settling for it?

He seemed to have no response to your accusation, and instead said, “I thought you understood why things are the way they are.”

You did understand, at a point. When he kissed you for the first time, he had very kindly explained to you that he couldn’t let this become anything more. Yet it had. The phone he’d given you lay on the countertop, and you eyed it, “It seems like you really thought things through when getting me this phone. So what exactly happened…?”

“My managers found out about you.” He stated. You glanced at him, surprised how he said it so calmly when it had been his biggest fear, “What? How?”

“Yeah, they…overheard me and the boys at a party.” He said. You blinked, “You were talking about me at a party?”

“Be careful, the water’s going to boil over.” He stepped closer. You looked back at the pot, realizing this, and turned the stove off. He continued, “And yes. It was at the album release party. I called you that night”

“Oh” You recalled, and he had been drunk on the phone that night and you had wished to be next to him, “I remember…”

“So, anyway…they found out about you that night. It was my mistake…and they gave me a bunch of documents, and I don’t know I guess I kind of freaked out.” He came to stand opposite you, crossing his arms against his chest. His sweater was so tight on him and his arms bulged when he crossed them. You couldn’t help but notice. It was tucked into his pants, a thick belt holding them up. You leaned against your kitchen counter, facing him, “What kind of documents?”

“A…press release statement, and an NDA.” He cleared his throat, “I guess they thought we were dating.”

“Oh. So is that what happened then? Why you acted the way you did?”

“Some of it. I didn’t want to involve you in any of that legal stuff, and they didn’t believe me when I said we were just friends. Things were spiraling with Chan and the others, not that it’s their fault, but I…I guess cutting you out felt like the easiest choice to make at the moment.”

You looked away from him, a pang resonating in your chest at those words, and bitterness filled you. Maybe it was a mistake calling him here. Maybe he should leave. He noticed the drop in your expression, “Did I say something wrong?”

“It was easy?” Your voice was hollow in the little apartment, heart-shattering at his admittance.

“What?”

You glanced at him, “Cutting me out was easy for you?”

He gulped, staring at you and his eyes burned through you, as his lips parted to say, “No, it was…the hardest thing I ever did.”

For some reason beyond your understanding, you believed him. Everything in you wanted to believe him. It was a genuine response.

“The tea,” You said, realizing you’d forgotten it. You wanted to ask him a lot more about how the past months had been in your absence, but you’d take it slow. This was a lot for one night.

He stood up straighter, “Yeah.”

You turned around, reaching into your cabinet to take out two little mugs. You didn’t have much crockery, you hardly had people over much, and Hyunjin stepped up to help you. “Is everything you own pink?” He asked, taking the little mug from you.

You looked at him, embarrassed, “Just the mugs…”

“And the blanket…” He pointed out, looking at you. A little, teasing smile tugged at his lips. You fought your own smile, “Just drink the tea, okay Hyunjin?”

He nodded, smiling still, and poured the water into yours and his, levelling them the same. He dropped the tea bags in it, and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him, loving the warmth on your hands, “Oh. This is hot.”

He agreed, testing out a sip, “It’s nice. It was freezing outside”

You nodded, “You can sit, if you want.”

“No, that’s okay.” He shook his head and walked over to your kitchen window, bending down to peer out, “Do you keep it open always?”

“Yeah. I…like the sounds,” You told him, taking another sip, but you ended up burning your tongue, and you sighed, putting your mug away, “I heard you were in Japan. How was it?”

He had his hand out the window now, tracing the melted snowflakes that lay on the ledge, and he spoke, “Tiring, but…beautiful.”

“Kairi told me you were there for an award show?”

He turned to you again, snowflakes disintegrating in his palm, “We were”

“Did you win?”

He laughed, smiling at you, “Yeah. We won…a few. Album of the year.”

“That’s really nice.” You said, warmth blooming in your chest, “You deserved it, I’m sure.”

He laughed again, “You don’t even know who we were up against.”

“Well…” You traced a circle on the kitchen slab, “I don’t, but I heard your album. The day it came out. It was…really nice, Hyunjin.”

“Thank you. I didn’t know you listened to it.” He had a little smile as he spoke. His hair fell into his face, but some of it was tied up behind his head. Him standing with the tea in his hands, in the dim lighting of your kitchen, made him look like a dream.

Your phone buzzed, dragging both your attention to it. Felix was calling.

“Uh, I should take this.” You told him. Hyunjin’s smile fell, giving way to another neutral expression and he just nodded, “I can head out, if you want me to.”

You looked at him. You wanted him to stay but…for what? Things were awkward, and you were so overwhelmed. Plus, it’d probably be a long call explaining to Felix that you’d actually decided to stay, and that you’d only panicked beforehand. You didn’t look forward to that conversation. Hyunjin was ready to go now though, and you wished he would stay. You wished he would once again ask you to stay. All of his passion from earlier had settled into…awkwardness, like he didn’t know what to do with himself after such a heavy confession, after begging you to stay.

You spoke, “You haven’t finished your tea.”

He looked down at his mug, and he’d been drinking extra slow or maybe he’d poured more tea for himself just so he could stay here longer and find an excuse to talk to you, “But…Yongbok…”

Your phone kept buzzing, vibrating on the counter. You didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat, “You should talk to him, he must be worried. I… think it’s best if I go, and I should be back at the dorm before morning. I don’t want to raise any suspicion. When I took the early flight here, I told the company it was because I was sick, so…they’d be expecting me to be at home.”

Your heart deflated, and you agreed, “That makes sense.”

There was such a strange bond. You could be angry at him all you wanted, but he was the only person you could be yourself around. The only one who brought you comfort, just by his mere presence, even if he said nothing. You had no idea what the two of you were right now, but you were warming up to him again, and things could almost be okay if this continued.

“But if you want me to stay here with you tonight, I can.” He added, “I don’t…want you to feel alone, not tonight.”

But what about every other night? You would always feel alone without him. Your eyebrows shot up at his suggestion, “I don’t know, Hyunjin. I…I don’t want to get you into trouble.”

He nodded, “You’re right. I should go. That’s probably the right thing to do.”

“Okay.” You swallowed. He put his mug away, unfinished tea, and then approached you, “If you…need something, my number is on that phone. You can call me, anytime. Don’t worry about disturbing me or anything.”

“Yeah. Okay”

He exhaled a breath, “I’ll see you soon, then. Goodnight.”

He was so close to you that you could smell the cologne, and you could smell him. His shampoo, or whatever it was. It smelled so good. You forced a smile at him, “Goodnight, Hyunjin.”

He walked to your living room, grabbed his coat, and slipped it on.

You stood where you were, not wanting to be that close again, not trusting yourself with what you might do and regret. He looked at you from the door, “I’m…really sorry about what happened, with…Jieong, again. You don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but…yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s…not your fault.” You told him, the constantly buzzing phone not letting you think straight.

“I know, but…I should have been there for you. I’m sorry about that too, but…call me if you need me, please.”

Your heart was crumbling, not being able to comprehend this. After all these months of sadness, was he really in your life again? None of this felt real. It was like a dream you’d conjured up to stop yourself from being so sad, but he was here, right now in your apartment. He turned the knob, and you blurted, “Wait—”

He looked back at you immediately, eyebrows raising in hope, “Yes?”

You stepped up, eliminating the distance between you, looking up at him, “Do you really mean it?”

His eyes searched yours, “Yeah.”

“You won’t get in trouble? If I contact you? What if…your managers find out about the other phone? Will you have to block me again?”

Hyunjin stared at you, and there was a determination in his eyes that you’d never seen, and a confidence, “They won’t find out.”

“If they do?”

He swallowed, gaze falling to your mouth briefly, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

“Oh.”

Your phone kept buzzing. He spoke, “You should really take that call. He would be worried.”

“You’re right.”

He glanced at you one last time, before leaving.

You picked up your phone, voice shaky. You told Yongbok you’d decided to stay and when he asked you why, you didn’t know what to say. All your reasoning had blended into a mush of emotions and longing. Hyunjin must have said something really convincing back in the car, but you couldn’t remember what any of it was. You just knew that it had worked. You talked to him for the rest of the night. It was chilly and you should have gotten into bed, but you lingered in the kitchen for hours. It still smelt like him.

»»————-

You were woken up by a ringtone you didn’t recognise. Sitting up in bed, a heavy feeling settled in your chest. This had been happening for the past week. Each morning was compounded by sadness. As soon as you were conscious, you’d remember what happened with Jieong. Today, disorientation overtook the sadness.

A phone was ringing.

The ringtone…was a stupid silly love song that you were obsessed with back in Daejon. You reached for your laptop, pausing a rerun of The Vampire Diaries. You must have fallen asleep watching it, and you couldn’t comprehend what episode you were on now, having missed most of it in your asleep. Grabbing the blanket around your shoulders, you trudged to your living room, and sure enough, your new phone was buzzing. There was only one person who had this number. It was still baffling how Hyunjin bought you a flip fucking phone just so you could talk to him.

hyunjin hey, i just wanted to make sure it was working so i guess this is a test message you yea. its working. hyunjin oh im sorry. did i wake you up? you yup hyunjin sorry…i hope you got enough rest. how did yongbok take it? you he was disappointed. he really wanted me to come home.

hyunjin i can imagine. did he ask why you changed your mind? you why? you want me to tell him that it was because of you? hyunjin it was? you i don’t know hyunjin. im still trying to figure it out. im kind of all over the place. hyunjin i understand

You stared at his texts, and this must have been the millionth time he had said sorry, but did he even know what he was sorry for? So much had happened in his absence, and it seemed like he had no idea what his loss had meant to you. Every conversation still felt like walking on eggshells, you didn’t know what he wanted from you now. Did he still have feelings for you? The night in the Atelier, he had said everything to get you to stay, yet nothing at the same time. All of his words were so carefully constructed for you, and you wish he’d been clear about what he wanted. Your heart was so fucking torn and confused. A part of you was still pushing Hyunjin away, and perhaps your anger was still lingering. But oh, you missed him so much.

He wanted you to see Christmas. You found yourself searching through search engines for pictures of Seoul during that festive time, and it sure looked beautiful and pretty, but it didn’t seem like a big enough deal. He must really love Christmas or something. You glanced over at your suitcases that lay at the edge of your bed, second-guessing everything when your phone began ringing, and you didn’t have the heart to ignore him. You crawled over to where it lay on the nightstand, and put the phone to your ear, listening quietly.

“Hey.” He spoke, a relief in his tone, “You picked up.”

You lied back down, pulling your covers over yourself, “I did.”

“What are you doing right now?” He asked. You stared at your ceiling, “I was watching a show…” You hadn’t been the most responsive tonight or this past few days. You were having trouble figuring out what this new relationship between you and Hyunjin meant. “You…haven’t unpacked?” He asked. You shrugged, “No. I’d prefer having it ready to go if I change my mind.”

There was a pause on the other end, “Right. Well, if you do plan on leaving, I hope you don’t do it in the middle of the night again. It’s not very practical.”

He was joking about it, but for some reason it made you smile, “Yup. I’ll be sure to wait until dawn next time.”

“Back when I was at the academy, I always had my suitcase packed up under my dorm bed, and I hid it there, just in case I needed to leave one night.”

“Why would you need to leave?” You frowned. He chuckled, harshly, “Um, training was hard. I almost quit…a lot of times.”

“Why was it hidden?” You sat up. It felt weird that you’d known him all this time but never known this. He laughed, “I was too nervous to admit I was scared. If I thought of quitting, it would make the other trainees think I was weak. I couldn’t let them see that. That’s the fastest way to be targeted.”

You heart hurt at the thought of a younger Hyunjin being scared, “You never told me that…”

“Yeah, it’s…something I don’t really like to talk about.”

“I’m sorry for making you think about it.” You bit your lip, feeling guilty for reminding you of a worse time. His tone was light to reassure you, “It’s not your fault. I guess seeing you the other night reminded me…of me.”

“Yeah. Why are you up at this time though?” You glanced at your bedside clock. He spoke, “I’m waiting for the guys to get home. They’re coming back from Bangkok tonight, and they have a late flight. I hope you’ve been getting enough sleep though.”

It was a strange feeling, knowing you and him were in the same city, unable to fall asleep. This was a first. You wish you could call him over, and maybe you could help each other fall asleep. Holding him would definitely help all your worries, and you could imagine how warm his body would be to cuddle. Would he even fit in your bed and on your cheap mattress, or would you have to be on top of each other? The thought made your heart squeeze. You were so tired of holding back all these thoughts, you wanted to be able to say them out loud. There was no point keeping these feelings to yourself, but for now, it didn’t seem appropriate for this new friendship you two were discovering. You swallowed your desires, saying, “I have to go to the Atelier this week to withdraw my application.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“What?” Yes. Yes. You wanted him with you all the time.

“I just thought that you might feel anxious, and…I can wait for you. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll take you home.”

It was funny how he always knew the right thing to say, pushing all the right buttons that made your dopamine go batshit insane. It was funny that he was perfect for you, yet you still weren’t together.

“But you can’t even be seen in public with me.” You responded, and you hated thinking with your head and not your heart. He was quick to offer a solution, “I’ll…be in my car. It’ll be fine. Nobody will know I’m there.”

You chewed on your lip, considering your options, “You don’t have to go through all of that effort. It just sounds like an inconvenience for you to be there.”

There was silence on the other end, and Hyunjin spoke, “I don’t want you to be around Kim Jieong by yourself.”

“I’ll be fine.” The idea of Hyunjin accompanying you sounded tempting, but you couldn’t take responsibility for something like that. You’d caused him enough trouble in his life as is.

»»————-

Later that week, the receptionist of the Atelier was staring at you, a disapproving look on her face, “Are you sure? Once you input this request, you can’t change your mind.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m…positive” You spoke, hands flat on the front desk. She frowned, “You’re… positive that you want to withdraw your admission?”

The words sent a pang through your chest, a cruel reminder to your predicament, but you nodded, “Yeah.”

A familiar, comforting voice suddenly rang through the lobby, and you turned to see Jeonghan run up to you, a huge portfolio bag in hand. He was a sight for sore eyes. He looked so relaxed in his bucket hat and an oversized mint-green cardigan, with a smile on his face, “Y/N! Are you feeling any better?” …Right. He thought you were sick. He thought that’s the reason you hadn’t shown up to any classes. You smiled up at him. You hadn’t seen him in a while, “Yeah. Can you just give me a second? I’ll finish up here.”

“Sure. I'm just waiting for my friend anyway.” He nodded, slinging an arm around you, pulling you close. The receptionist blinked at you, unfazed by Jeonghan’s affectionate arrival, “And you’ve spoke to Mr. Jieong about this?”

“Yes, I’m sure he knows” You spoke, “Spoken to him about what?” Jeonghan asked, looking at you. You bit your lip, glancing up at him, “I… it’s not important”

He frowned, a sassy look on his face, “That’s not suspicious at all.”

“I can’t withdraw your admission unless you get your professor's signature" The receptionist said, handing you back your documents.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jeonghan laughed. You sighed, stepping away from the front desk and he tagged along, “I’m fucking tripping, right? Or did she just say you’re withdrawing your admission?”

You shrugged, staring at the documents in your hand, “I don’t know, I can’t afford it anymore. I have to talk to Jieong. Do you know where he is?”

“Probably in his office.” He said, “But are you not going to explain what’s going on?”

“I can’t get into it right now. Will you please come with me? I don’t want to be by myself.” You asked. He spoke without hesitation, “Of course I’ll come with you.”

You felt a different kind of terror and disappointment when you entered Jieong’s office. Jeonghan was right next to you, holding your hand and he didn’t even know what was happening but you were glad to have his support. Kim Jieong was hunched over his desk, looking through what seemed like portfolios, until he noticed the two of you walk in. He smiled brightly at you as if nothing had ever happened, “What brings the two of you in?”

You stared at him, figuring out what you could possibly say. Jeonghan’s hand was on the small of your back, and he squeezed you lightly as if encouraging you, and he said, “Just accompanying a friend.”

You looked at Jieong, and the way he sat like a king in his chair, and spoke, “I…needed your signature on something.”

“Nate. Do you mind if I speak to Y/N alone?” He asked, sending him a sweet smile. Jeonghan nodded, “Sure, of course.”

You could say nothing as he left you two alone. Jieong took off his glasses, staring at you, “This is ridiculous, Y/N.”

“I can’t do the classes anymore” You told him. His eyebrows shot up, “After everything you did to get in, you’re giving up like that? I know it’s hard, but don’t be so temperamental.”

“I’m not giving up. I’ll…still paint” You mumbled. He tilt his head, “For yourself? Where is that going to get you? I just think you’re making a big mistake.”

You swallowed, “So what, I come just back to classes and pretend nothing happened?”

“Well, what did happen, Y/N?” He chuckled, “I came to check in on you. As a concerned adult, I am responsible for my student, and you just ran away. And then you decided to skip classes for some reason. Now you’ve lost the chance for the scholarship, but you can still continue in the program.”

You stared at him, not even realising that of course he’d deny everything. You wondered if you should address it, but maybe now was the only time you could. “You…you said I should convince you.”

He leaned forward on his desk, “By making your greatest painting yet, of course. How…else? You are an artist at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Can you please just sign my document so I can leave?” You spoke, more venom in your tone than you intended. He was pretending it didn’t happen. He frowned, clicking at his pen, “You’ve already paid for the next few months classes. You’re just going to let that go to waste?”

Were you making a big mistake? You were acting too much on emotion. Yet you couldn’t imagine being in the same room as him again, and feeling comfortable. He had ruined this for you.

“You used to be my favourite artist...” You said, almost accusatory. He stood up, the sound of his chair dragging against the wood was loud, “Used to be? Does someone else have your heart now?”

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, Hyunjin must be calling you, and Jieong stepped around his table, walking closer to you. You hated this. You hated looking at him, and feeling this fear and anxiety when you should only feel admiration. “Please. I just need your signature and I’ll be gone. I haven’t said anything to anybody and I’m probably moving back home anyway, so please just do this for me.”

He crossed his arms, talking so nonchalantly as if this were a casual conversation, “No. If I let you withdraw, that’d be wasting your talent and potential.”

“So you want me to stay in the program?”

“That’s all I’ve wanted since day one.” He laughed, “You’re one of my most talented.”

Your head was beginning to hurt, “Then why did you cancel my scholarship…and why are you being like this?”

“I’m not being like anything. I’m just asking you to consider staying in the program. I don't know why you're so insistent on running away.” He stepped closer, and a month ago, his tone would could comforted you but not anymore. You made sure you were near the door so you could leave if you needed to, and you tried to find the least offensive way to say what you felt, “What do you mean? You made me uncomfortable the other night.”

“What did I do? Am I not allowed to check up on my students anymore?” He was acting clueless, and it pissed you off.. You felt insane like you were speaking to a child who couldn’t comprehend anything, “I don’t know…you tried to grab me.”

“No offence, Y/N, but you’re not exactly my type. In case you forgot, I’m a married man.” He held up his hand, showing you his wedding band, “If anything, you’re the one who’s been coming on to me.”

“What? No, I haven’t.”

“Really?” He didn’t seem like he believed you, and you didn’t have to justify yourself anyway. You felt frustrated by the way he was addressing this situation, making you feel crazy. “I’ve …never come on to you. That’s…insane. I have a boyfriend. I would be crazy to do that, not to mention how…inappropriate that is. Do you think I’d risk my—”

“You have a boyfriend? What you told me the other night was different.” He tilt his head. You were only going in circles and not going anywhere, as you said, “I try to keep my professional and personal life separate.”

“What’s his name?” He asked, clicking the pen in his hand, the noise driving you mad. You almost ended up saying Hyunjin’s name, until you realised you obviously couldn’t fucking do that. Hyunjin couldn’t be the convenience in this case, you don’t know what Jieong could do with that information, especially if he found out who Hyunjin really was. You swallowed, “Nate. Obviously.”

Jieong’s expression shifted, “I see.”

You weren’t sure if he believed you or not, but you wouldn’t stick around to find out, “I don’t even know why I’m talking about this with you. I just need you to give me my documents, so I can leave.”

“I’ll think about it.” He spoke. Your eyes widened, “What?”

“You can come collect them later, in case I change my mind.” He said, returning to his desk and sat down nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to start an argument or make him mad. This was pointless. You left his office, feeling worse than before, informing the receptionist that you couldn’t even fucking resign right now. Everything felt harder than it should be. A hurdle for everything. Getting into this program had been impossible, and it seemed like getting out of it was just as tough.

The phone in your bag kept buzzing, and you stepped into the bathroom, picking up his call, “What?”

“Y/N…” Hyunjin seemed surprised at your tone, “I…was trying to reach you. What happened?”

Your eyes brimmed with tears of frustration, “Nothing. I’ve had a bad day. Why were you calling me so much?”

“I was going to come to the Academy. Are you still there?”

“You’re what?” Your voice shot up. His voice was calm on the other end, “I can’t let you speak to Jieong alone.”

“Where are you right now? You can’t come. They keep a record of every visitor and… you can in trouble with your company for being here. And I already talked to him so there isn’t any point.” You spoke. It was also frustrating how you wanted Hyunjin to be there for you, but you had to think of his life and his job always first, before yourself. It had always been the case though. He was quiet for a minute and then said, “You were alone with him? Where are you right now?”

“Nate was with me.” You said, staring at yourself in the mirror, and you looked like shit, in a hoodie you had worn for three days straight, “He’s…waiting for me outside.”

“I see…” Hyunjin responded, “I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you.”

You sighed, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Hyunjin. I’m fine. Jieong was absolutely useless though. He didn’t even let me withdraw! He was…being cryptic, and frustrating. I had to tell him Nate’s my boyfriend just to get him off my back.”

Hyunjin’s response was dry, “Oh. Okay.”

“I mean… I was lying.” You were stupidly justifying yourself, and he mumbled, “Yeah. Makes sense…I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but you since I woke up, so I just thought it’d be better if I came over there.”

“You don’t have to leave work for me, Hyunjin." You suddenly felt guilty, "I’m sorry we haven’t talked much. I just haven’t been in the best state of mind.”

“I just…want you to know that I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it. I’m sorry that you’re having a bad day.”

“Don’t worry about it, it's not your fault or anything.” You mumbled. He said, “I’ve been thinking and…I want to take you somewhere. I think it’ll take your mind off things.”

The request excited you, but coming from Hyunjin’s mouth, you couldn’t really believe it, “Somewhere in the city?”

“Yeah.”

“But is that allowed? For you to be seen with me in public?” It was the only question you had. You didn’t mean for it to sound so cold. It came out harsher than intended. Allowed as if Hyunjin was a child who needed permission to do anything he desired. He was quiet, and you feared you’d crossed the line, but then he suddenly said, “I…asked my manager for permission.”

At those words, your eyes widened. That was certainly something you hadn’t expected. “And what did you say?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, “I may have lied and told him my cousin was visiting from America and that it was my… responsibility to show them around the city. He obviously can’t stop me from hanging out with family, even if it’s in a crowded place.”

“So…I have to pretend to be your cousin?”

He laughed, “No. God, no. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. You can…be yourself. It’s just gonna be me and you.”

“Really?” You didn’t know what this was. Hyunjin was…definitely opening up to you in a way he hadn’t in months. You had no idea what to make of it. Perhaps this meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Maybe he was only being friendly to make up for his behavior.

“Yeah. Is that okay with you? If it’s just…us?”

Just you and him. You’d craved for him this whole time. He seemed nervous since you hadn’t answered, “Y/N?”

“I’m here,” You said. He must have expected that you hung up. “Oh,” He replied, his tone relieved at hearing your voice.

“So where did you want to take me?”

“You said that you haven’t been to Myeon-dong, and… that’s a crime. I was hoping to show you around.” He added, “But I… don’t know. I would understand if you were still pissed about… what I did, and if you don’t want to go.”

“I’m not pissed…” You thought about his words, “I’m just kind of confused, Hyunjin.”

“About me?”

“No, actually, let’s not discuss this over the phone…things get misinterpreted and… I’m really tired right now,” You mumbled. Hyunjin suddenly wanted to hang out with you again and this was a lot to unpack and shouldn’t be done now. He agreed, “You’re right. I'm sorry again that I couldn’t see you. I really didn’t want you to feel like you had to do that alone. Because I’m here, for you. I know I haven’t been but…yeah.”

When he said stuff like that, your stomach twisted. You’d been trying to maintain a line between you and him, a boundary based on all of the recent events, yet it felt futile. Your voice dropped, “Yeah, thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

You nodded, and a part of you already felt lighter at this proposition, “See you then, Hyunjin.”

You stepped out, making your way to the entrance and Nate spotted you. He ran up to you, pulling you into a half-hug, “How’d it go with Jieong? I can’t believe he kicked me out of his office.”

You shrugged, squinting under the sun, “I may have told him you were my boyfriend…”

He laughed, a smirk on his face, “What? Is that your way of asking me out?”

It was kind of nice that he had no idea what was going on. You could still pretend that things were normal. You felt embarrassed, pushing your hands in your pockets, “Jeonghan…no.”

“I know. I know. I’m kidding” He smiled, then took off his bucket hat, placing it on your head to protect you from the sun, “You need to get yourself a pair of sunglasses.”

“Thanks” You smiled. It was nice to be distracted from your disastrous exchange with Jieong. He looked around at all of the art students walking to classes, then back to you, “So are you coming back to class on Monday? You know it sucks without you, right?”

“Really? I take it you guys miss me a lot then.” You smiled. He rolled his eyes, “Of course I do. Honestly, you were my favorite thing about it, especially this last semester. Jieong’s got a stick up his ass for some reason. Anyway, me and Minnie miss you. Well, me more than her. I don’t have anybody to teach me your crazy ass techniques anymore. I mean, you’re the only one who can make me get my hands willingly dirty and paint with them.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “They weren’t crazy. I thought you enjoyed painting with your hands. You’re a dick.”

He grinned, tapping your hat, “Only for you.”

You then noticed the black and gold bags at his feet, “So, what’s in the bags?”

“Unfortunately, nothing for you.” He sighed. “I was shopping for a tuxedo. Actually, now that you're here, I did have a crazy favor to ask you.”

You looked up at him, in anticipation, “Yeah? What’s the favour?”

“My sister, she lives in Busan, I told you, right? Well anyway, she’s getting married next Saturday, which is crazy in itself but…long story short, you’re coming with me. There’s no way I’m surviving that alone.”

“You want me to be your plus-one?” You asked. He shrugged, “I mean, you already told Jieong you’re my girlfriend…so it doesn’t hurt to keep up appearances does it?”

“I mean, I have to think about it. Do I have to dress up fancy and all?” You asked. He nodded, “Yeah, a formal dress preferably, but if anyone can pull that off, it would be you. You being by my side would actually make it bearable. Will you think about it and let me know? If you absolutely can’t go, that’s okay, I’ll take Minnie along, but… I’d…really prefer if it was you. After all, I can’t make out with Minnie when I’m drunk.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s almost like you’re trying to convince me not to go.”

He smiled, “Please let me know about it. I gotta go meet my friend now. I’ll hopefully see you next Saturday?”

Maybe going to a fancy wedding would take your mind off things, and you smiled as he kissed your cheek goodbye, “No promises.”

»»————-

This was the Seoul you’d seen in the movies. It’s as if you’d stepped into a full spread of a magazine that you’d fawn over in your school library as you stared at Myeon-dong street. A seemingly endless alley of shops, food, and anything a person could want for. It was the afternoon, and it seemed to be the busiest time as throngs of people filtered in and out through the streets. Your gaze fell upon families, couples, and teenagers filling the streets still in their school uniforms.

There was a newspaper stand set up next to you, selling magazines and papers of all kinds, it even had some pop merchandise, random objects with pictures of idols on them, ranging from socks to mugs to paper fans. It was bizarre. The lady at the shop smiled at you, “Looking for something in particular?”

“Um, no, I was just looking.” You shook your head. She was dressed really well, and she smiled at you, “What’s your favorite group, sweetie?”

Your eyes meandered over the merchandise, and for a moment you considered saying the name of Hyunjin’s band but quickly decided against it, “Uh, I don’t listen to…” Just then, a teenage girl and her friend came behind you, filming a vlog of some kind, and the lady asked them the same question, her attention switching in a millisecond away from you, “Looking for something?”

To your surprise, the girl enthusiastically nodded, “Yes, please! Could we get a Hwang Hyunjin and Changbin necklace?”

Your eyes widened, and you stepped away from the stall to hide your reaction. You could see the lady reach into her supplies, pulling out several decorative items, along with t-shirts and necklaces. Hyunjin was on half of them, and a strange sense of pride and wonder filled you. That must be so fucking weird for him, but you suppose it also must be satisfying to be this famous. The teenage girl immediately reached for the Hyunjin necklace, a pendant with his name carved out in silver, and it was actually pretty, and not tacky, and a part of you wanted to get one for yourself but he’d think you were crazy if you did. She immediately put it around her neck, a big smile on her face. You stepped away, a strange jealousy building in your stomach.

It was almost the time he said he’d meet you here, so you walked to the junction, hands pushed into your deep coat pockets, looking around for the familiar face.

In the midst of the crowd, he was waiting for you.

He stood tall in a suede trench coat, a turtleneck, and a bag slung around him. He wore a black mask, obscuring his face from the onlookers, but people were still looking at him. Of course they were. He didn’t need to show his face to be the most beautiful man in the room.

He was looking around too, and you waited for him to notice you. Would you stand out to him too, like he did to you? Could he pick you out of a crowd of hundreds?

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, wondering if he would call and ask where you were. But then he noticed you. Even in this distance, you saw his eyes light up in recognition, and immediately, he stepped ahead, pushing through the moving crowd to get to you. You waited where you were, as he got closer and closer. Your heart pound to a different beat now. You had no idea what today would be about or what any of this meant to him, and one of the reasons you’d agreed to meet was to find out. He finally approached you, and his eyes crinkled as you imagined the hidden smile under his mask, “You’re here…”

You nodded, looking up at him, “Have you been waiting long?”

He shook his head, voice muffled, “No, don’t worry about it.”

You wish you could see him without the mask, but too many people here could recognise him. “There’s a couple of places I wanna show you.” He said, gesturing you to move. You walked next to him, and the tight space pushed you two together, arms brushing mistakenly. You looked around, “There’s a lot of people here”

“Mmh. It’s one of the busiest times of the day.”

“Why did you pick this time then?” You glanced up at him. He looked at you, “Well…Right now, we can just blend into the crowd. If there’s less people, we’re more likely to be noticed, and draw attention.”

So he had thought of that, and he was right. You weren’t really looking at other people because there were just far too many to keep track of, so they likely wouldn’t be looking at you too. To them, you just seemed like a normal couple on a day out. Your arms brushed against each other the whole time, and his hand hovered over your back. You kept sneaking glances at him, and it was harder because you were moving so fast, and he was taller and there was only so much of him you could see. Every time there was a change in the crowd, he’d quickly switch sides, grabbing your arm to keep you close. When you looked at him, his eyes crinkled as he tried to justify, “Just making sure I don’t lose you.”

The words sent a flutter through you, and you asked him, trying to be heard over the cacophony of sounds, “Did you know shops here sell merchandise with you?”

He looked back at you, distracted. He was seemingly too focused on finding his way through the crowd, “Um, yes, I’ve seen a few. Wait… this place has the best fried chicken, you need to try it. If we come later in the evening, there will be a really long wait for it. Changbin once made me wait two hours for it.”

“Oh, wow. Was it worth it?” You asked, stopping at what looked like an inconspicuous stall. He laughed, “I don’t know about that, but I’d do anything for Changbin, so I definitely wasn’t complaining. Anyway, the last time I was here, I could’t help but wonder what you’d think of it.” He then ordered a plate for the two of you, and you watched the vendor prepare it. It already smelled amazing, and you eagerly waited, hands in your pockets, “So do you come here with the guys often?”

He shook his head, “No, we haven’t gone out in a while. We’ve been so busy with promotions….and the album, haven’t really found time to relax.”

“I’m sorry. That sounds stressful. Do you not get any vacations?”

The vendor had finished preparing the chicken and was now seasoning it, sprinkling all kinds of spices over it. Hyunjin shrugged, “I think I used up my lifetime of vacations in Daejon.”

“Right.” You recalled all of his months there, “I hope you still got paid for it.”

He shook his head, face buried in the front of his coat, “It was still worth it though. I got to meet you.”

You blinked, wondering how and why he said such soul-changing stuff so casually. Like at a fucking chicken stall on the sidewalk. How did these things come so easily to him, but love so difficulty? You shrugged, “Right. I guess that’s why you didn’t need me anymore when you came back home.”

It was a joke, obviously, but Hyunjin’s eyebrows crinkled, “Y/N…”

“Oh, look, our food is ready.” You changed the topic, suddenly feeling guilty for bringing it up, and not wanting this to be awkward. He didn’t protest at your lack of subtlety, “Yeah. Come on, we can go into this alley so we’re not in everyone’s way.”

You followed him into a nearby alleyway. It was less crowded, so Hyunjin seemed more at ease at not being recognized yet you could see he was still a bit on edge as he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with any passerby. He leaned against a brick wall, and you stood opposite him, savoring some of the chicken. He asked you, “You like it?”

To be honest, you couldn’t even process what you were eating. It was kind of hard to focus on other things when he was here, and this could have been the best chicken in the world but your internal monologue ran on a loop of Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. It was annoying, and you wish you could focus on the environment you were in, on the other people around you, on the street food. But you nodded, your crazy urge to be a people-pleaser and said, “Yeah, this is so fucking good. Are you gonna have some?”

He shook his head, laughing, “I’m good. I’m just glad you like it.” You hummed, “Thank you for making me try it…”

You hated that the mask obscured his face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it made you anxious. He didn’t say anything for a while as you ate, like he was building up the courage to ask, until he finally did say, “So…how are you feeling, really? And please…don’t just say you’re fine. I want to know how you’re really doing. And how you’ve been the past few months. I’ve been wondering that for a while.”

Your eyes searched his, and that certainly didn’t seem like street side conversation but it was all you had, “That’s a pretty loaded question, Hyunjin, but I guess it’s good to be out of my apartment. Thanks for bringing me out here. I was kind of getting sick of my routine.”

He nodded, “I can imagine. You hate routines.”

You laughed, surprised that he knew that about you even though at this point, he probably knew you better than any human in the world, “Yeah.”

“Did you tell Nate that you’re thinking of withdrawing? I hope he convinced you to not do that.” He asked, hope in his tone. You shook your head, “No, he was in a really good mood, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“He seems like a really good friend, and I know I didn’t really have the chance to talk to him, but he seems cool.”

“Yeah. He definitely helped. Seeing him had definitely put me at ease.” You reached for another piece of fried chicken, “When I was about to go back home, he didn’t really even cross my mind…but I realized, yeah, it would have been unfair to him if I just left without a word. I would definitely miss him. He was…such a big part of my last few months. I wouldn’t have adjusted to living in the city without him.”

Hyunjin was quiet, and then he spoke, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” You laughed, feeling embarrassed at the memory, but Hyunjin was the one who wanted to know all about your life the past few months, “I was so lost when I moved here. Everything seemed so…scary, but he made it easier for me.” Hyunjin was still staring at you so you elaborated, finding the need to explain, “He…made me meet his friends, he took me out to some really cool bars, and going to class was scary but he’s probably the reason I didn’t go back home sooner… now that I think of it.”

“Oh.” He pushed off the wall, choosing to walk along the alley, and you followed him, trying to keep up with his footsteps. Little hair salons and souvenir shops surrounded you. As you walked, you observed how your feet fit in the cobblestones just so you wouldn’t feel so nervous around him as you replayed the last few months in your head, “Yeah. Wow, I didn’t realize how much he meant to me until you asked. I mean…he had no reason to be so nice to me, especially because…this is embarrassing to talk about—”

“What?” Hyunjin asked, looking at you. It felt weird to think of all those months, but you were only talking about this because he asked. You’d been crying almost every day, because of…well, him. Everything had seemed so hopeless without him in your life, and now…you had bigger problems. Such as your dreams of a lifetime being absolutely fucked and burnt into the dust. So perhaps you had made your peace with what Hyunjin had done. Nothing could have made him change his mind, and there was…no point crying about it.

You snapped back to reality, realising he was waiting for you to answer and you wonder how honest you should be. Something about how detached he’d been the past few months made it easier for you to open up, “It’s embarrassing because I was really all over the place. I was kind of…depressed? I don’t even know, but…Nate didn’t mind. He was so nice about it.” You then laughed, suddenly remembering the blind date Minnie had set you up on, “Oh, and I had this horrible fucking date, man it was so bad. Some people can be such assholes.”

“You were…depressed?”

You looked up at him, realizing how serious that could sound, “Um, I mean…that’s a big word…I guess.”

“Why…?” He looked at you, confused, eyebrows knitted together in sadness, “You weren’t happy about the apprenticeship?”

The happiness of that could never have compared to the sadness of losing him. You’d really dug yourself into a hole. You wondered how to say this without making it all about him. How could you tell him that he was your favourite thing in the world? You swallowed, “Uh…I…I was kind of lonely, I guess.”

Hyunjin stared at you, something flashing through his eyes, and it looked like…regret, or guilt. You immediately felt bad, gut sinking. He looked away from you, and cleared his throat, blinking, “So…you had a date? With Nate?”

“No, this other guy,” You explained, “A date with Nate would have been a million times better, but no, it was with this total ass. He…just wanted to get into my pants, I guess, and on top of that he also had horrible taste in beer. Nate did rescue me from it.”

“So…then what happened between you and him? At the party, you were…” He trailed off, staring at the ground as he walked, “You guys looked close.”

“I don’t know. We were just…fucking around. It doesn’t mean anything. He kissed me, and I guess that’s how it started.”

Hyunjin glanced at you, “He kissed you?”

Why did it even matter right now? You clarified, “Technically, I kissed him…after my terrible date. And he returned it. Then, I guess we just…were casual friends who kissed.”

“Oh…Okay”

“Yeah. You missed a huge chunk of my life.” You chuckled, and you’d finished all the chicken, so he threw the plate away in a trashcan. He then asked, “So…what else did you do in the city ever since you’ve been here?”

“I…uh…not much.”

“What were your favourite moments?” He asked, “You must have had some good ones, right?”

You drifted off, trying to remember the times you’d been happy, and it was weird how you couldn’t think of many, “Well, when I got accepted. I was the happiest then. Then…when Jieong told me that I was talented, and when my paintings got complimented on in class. I was happy when I discovered a thrift store near my house, and…they had the cutest skirt in my size. It looked really cute on me.”

Hyunjin must be smiling, because you could see his eyes crinkle over the mask, “And?”

“And…I was happy when I was with Kairi. We found this cute cafe we would go to. They had these really, really good sandwiches. I was happy when…” You stopped.

“When?”

You looked up at him, pushing your hands in your pockets, “When…I saw you, in the storage closet.”

He was quiet, processing your words, and then he said, “We’re almost here. Come on.”

You thought you’d just been walking aimlessly, but it seemed like Hyunjin had a destination in mind this whole time. There was a brick building hidden between K-marts and department shops. It looked abandoned. “Can we even go in?” You asked. He laughed, “Of course.” There was an incognito entrance, hidden from the public as you stepped in through the doors, “Are you sure? It feels like we’ll get murdered in there, Hyunjin.”

He glanced at you, “That’s a funny way of saying you don’t trust me.”

You shrugged, playing along because it felt nice to pretend that things were normal again, “So, if there was a serial killer in there, you would fight him for me?”

He let out another laugh, looking at you, “I obviously would, and no there isn’t anybody in there, but maybe I should be asking if you would do that for me?”

“Nah, I think I’d sacrifice you so I could get away.” You smiled at him, and he laughed as you entered a fancy corridor. There was a huge map on the wall with different levels marked on it, and far too much detail than you’d expect. You still had no idea where you were. You tried to read it but Hyunjin walked ahead, and you caught up to him asking, “So…where are we?”

“It’s this…really cool concept store, for mainly streetwear. It’s one of a kind, all their clothes are inspired from the 90s and the coolest part is nobody really knows who the designer is. People speculate and such, but it’s anonymous and because their identity is hidden from the world, they can pretty much get away with anything, controversial designs and stuff. Ever since my stylist told me about, I knew I had to bring you here. It’s like…if Banksy made fashion, you know?”

The thoughtfulness of that didn’t miss you. He’d been thinking of you for a while, it seemed, and it looked like he was right. The first room you stepped in was already breathtaking. Cool technology surrounded the open floor plan, a suspended spaceship hung from the center, and clothes of vivid colors were displayed on racks amongst art installations and paintings. It seemed more like a museum than a fashion store. “Holy shit. You weren’t kidding.” You spoke, taking in all the futuristic displays, “How much are these clothes even worth?”

Hyunjin laughed, “Just the same as any other high-fashion store.”

“So… insanely expensive,” You mumbled, running your hand through the variety of jackets hung up. They were the coolest designs you’d seen, and the precision that must have gone into designing them was obvious. Each had something that made it unique: different fabric patches, pockets of uncanny shapes, and neon colors that you couldn’t imagine pulling off. But in Seoul, there was an outfit for everybody, and these definitely weren’t for you. Each of them felt expensive to the touch, and you probably shouldn’t be touching them like so.

“I wore something like this for a stage performance last month, and I was so stressed about ruining the sequins the entire time. Do you like any?” Hyunjin asked you, browsing through them too. You laughed, “Um yes, I love them, but I shouldn’t.”

“This one is really cool,” He spoke, eyeing a purple jacket, with lavendar fur on the neckline and sleeve loops. It looked like something aristocrats or royals would wear in Buckingham palace or something, so you laughed when Hyunjin asked, “Do you want to try it on?”

“If I get a speck of dirt on it, would I have to sell my soul?” You raised an eyebrow. Hyunjin scoffed, “You’re allowed to try them on. Come on. There’s a mirror somewhere here.” He grabbed the jacket off the shelf so casually, walking through the maze of displays until you reached a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. He held the jacket up to you, and you couldn’t take this seriously, “That is so not me. It would look good on like Gigi Hadid or something.”

He rolled his eyes, “Just try it on.”

“Sure. I’ll humour you this once, but after this, I get to pick something ridiculous for you to wear.” You took off your winter coat. Hyunjin grabbed it for you, and you slipped on the purple jacket. Immediately, it felt like you were wearing millions of dollars, rich and thick fabric. It hugged your body perfectly. You turned to the mirror, running your hands over the fur, it was so soft. Wearing this would definitely make anybody feel confident.

Hyunjin hadn't said anything yet. Your eyes darted to his, and he was staring at your reflection. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide, but you couldn’t see the rest of his face and that bothered you. You held your arms up, turning to the side to observe it, “It’s like a work of art.”

“Yeah. You make it look like one.” Hyunjin spoke. You glanced at him, feeling shy suddenly. He was so observant, so fixated on you.

“Well. Anyway. It’s my turn.” You walked to another section of the store. Hyunjin followed you through all the abstract installations. There must be a narrative behind it, but you were just happy appreciating the visuals. Silver water fountains, clothing displays that moved on their own... everything about this place screamed future. It was inspiring just to be in here. Hyunjin was sifting through a rack of streetwear. A sunglasses case rest next to it, and you stared at them, grabbing a design off the rack.

“You should try this,” You told him, offering him the glasses. His eyebrows shot up and he laughed, “Really? You don’t think they’re tacky? The gold borders?”

“I think they’d look good on you” You mumbled, but kept them back based on his reaction, “But fine, you don’t have to try them if you don’t want to—”

“I’ll try them, Jesus” He interrupted you with a laugh and put them on. There were mirrors everywhere and he looked at himself. You wonder if he fell in love with himself too each time he saw his reflection. He pushed his hair back, a smirk playing at his lips, “Huh. I actually kind of like that. Makes me feel like a rockstar.”

He sparkled under the store lights. You’d only wanted him to wear it as a joke, but he actually made them look so good. He looked expensive, and... so out of your league. He was absolutely beautiful, and you mumbled, “You are kind of a rockstar. You should get them.”

He glanced at you, eyebrow raised as if it was even a question. Those glasses seemed to be made for his perfect face. He pulled them off, observing the frame, “You think?”

You just nodded, not trusting what you might blurt. Probably something embarrassing along the lines of how hot he made them look, even though they were just fucking glasses, but him in them was doing something unnatural to your body.

“I can’t remember the last time I bought something for myself” He stated, pushing the glasses up over his head. You leaned against the mirror, looking up at him, “Is it because you always have to wear sponsorships and stuff?”

He nodded, “Yeah. It’s easier in a way because I don’t have to pick out much of my clothes.”

“That’s such a first-world, rich person problem, Hyunjin. I can’t believe you just said that.” You rolled your eyes. He laughed, “Hey, I’m just being honest with you, sorry.”

“You’re pretty lucky. I wish someone would buy my clothes for me” You sighed, “Unfortunately, I don’t have a stylist, and a make-up artist, and a personal shopper and a manager—”

“Stop” Hyunjin laughed, interrupting you, “I think what you pick out for yourself is pretty fantastic.”

“Yeah, I know it is.” You smiled, “So, is there any other cool stuff in this store?”

He nodded, stepping back from the mirror, and his hand fell to your lower back again as he guided you, “Yup. There’s a cafe. That’s where I was initially going to take you until you got distracted by all the jackets.”

The cafe was a beautiful rooftop establishment, looking out at the views of Seoul. You had to hold back your gasp when you walked in. There were hardly any people in, just a few men that looked like CEOs seated at far tables. Your eyes fell to the menu that hung over the counter, where every bakery item was easily more than 30,000 won. Everything was so expensive, and probably explained why this place wasn’t buzzing with people. Not everyone could afford this taste. “You should try the Pain au Chocolat. It’s one of the best in the city.” Hyunjin nudged you. You looked at him, “That statement indicates that you’ve somehow tried all the chocolate croissants in the city.”

He laughed, “Not nearly. I come here with Changbin and Jisung often though. A few weeks ago, I tried it and I just…kept imagining how much you’d like it.”

You looked back at the menu, feeling giddy at the thought of being on his mind so often, in your absence. You stepped up to the counter, ordering two coffees and croissants. You’d come all this way after all.

“Hey, I got this.” Hyunjin said, stopping you before you could pay. But if he paid for your coffee, it would increasingly make this feel more like a date, which this wasn’t. You couldn’t make yourself feel delusional by thinking it was.

“Don’t worry about it.” You dismissed him, handing your card to the cashier. He frowned, clearly not happy with the outcome, but you wouldn’t let him buy it for you. The cashier also seemed expensively dressed, with good taste, and she input your order and then said, “Unfortunately ma’am, you can’t wear the store merchandise around.”

You realised you were still wearing the lavendar fur jacket, loving the feel of it on you just like Hyunjin had loved it on you. Gosh, you wish you could never take it off just to see the look in his eyes again. Except you weren’t just playing dress-up. This was probably worth hundreds of thousands. You felt so embarrassed, and you immediately reached to unbutton it, “Shit. I’m so sorry…I can go put it back now.”

Were they going to charge you a lot for this mistake?

“Oh. It’s not merchandise, ma’am. We’re taking it home.” Hyunjin interrupted, and then looked at you, “You can keep it on.”

The cashier just smiled, “Oh, of course. My mistake then. Your order will be out in a few minutes. Have a nice day!”

You gaped at Hyunjin, “What?”

He laughed, tugging your arm to pull you away from the counter.

“Are you insane?”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Y/N” He joked, leading you to a table in the corner. He sat down, comfortably stretching his legs. You were still processing it, “This cost a fortune, you can’t just do that on a whim. I’m not okay with that.”

He sighed, gesturing at you to sit opposite him, “Come on. It’s not a big deal”

You crossed your arms, “Is this a way to get back at me because I paid for our coffees?”

He laughed, “Only you’d think someone’s getting back at you if they buy you a gift.”

You frowned, sitting down, “Well, I don’t like feeling like I owe someone something. This is far too expensive and I did nothing to earn that”

“Hey. You don’t owe me anything” He leaned forward, “I wanted to buy that for you. You can’t stop me.”

“Why?”

“Because…you look beautiful in it. It’d be a shame for anybody else in the world to wear it, and…” He looked embarrassed, “Because I saw that a few weeks ago and imagined it on you."

His compliment made your heart jump, and you wish you weren't so weak and crumbling over a boy of all things, but you didn’t want to feel ungrateful, “Oh….Thank you…Hyun.”

“So… you’re not mad at me then? You haven't called me that in a while.” He laughed. Your voice fell, touching the expensive material of the jacket, “No…I really love it. It’s beautiful.”

His smile grew, eyes crinkling, “I know. You look great in it.”

You eyed his mask, and that certainly could't be comfortable and you felt brave enough to finally say, “Are you going to wear that thing all day? I can’t even see you...but I guess I understand if you need to.”

He looked around the cafe. He must have deemed it safe, because there weren’t many people on this floor, so he reached up, slipping his mask out finally. And god, he looked so fucking perfect under it. His nose was red from the cold. His lips were just as plush as you remembered, and they curled up into a beautiful smile for you, “Is that better for you?”

“I hate that you have to hide yourself.”

His eyes widened just a tad, and perhaps he hadn’t expected you to be so candid, but you just nodded, “Don’t make a big deal out of it or something. Everybody in this country is in love with your face.”

The waitress then brought a tray of your coffees, and croissants, placing them between you. The view of Seoul from here was beautiful. Your heart soared, watching the sun fall on him, and he slipped on his brand-new sunglasses. They really did make him look like a rockstar, with the reflection of the glass buildings in them. He pushed his hair back, but it was a useless gesture because the strands fell back into place, bangs covering his forehead, and his hair had grown out much more. You looked around at the few businessmen in the cafe and asked, “So your managers really don’t mind that you’re out with a girl…on a random weekday?”

He nodded, cutting into the croissant with his knife, “Yeah of course. They don’t have to know.”

You sipped your coffee and then realized what he’d said, “Wait, what? They don’t know you’re here?”

Hyunjin glanced up at you, mid-bite into the croissant, chocolate creaming his lips, “What?”

“You told me you asked him for permission, so you wouldn’t get into trouble.” You stated. Realization sank into his features, and he nodded, “Um, yeah. I did”

Clearly, he was lying…and the fact that Hyunjin lied to his company about today put you on edge. He clearly noticed that. A sigh left his mouth, “Please don’t worry about it, Y/N…I thought everything through. I wanted you to have a good day.”

You couldn’t understand. A few months ago, Hyunjin let go of everything just so it wouldn’t risk his job, and now he was willingly doing this? What changed? Was it that he noticed your desperation to leave and thought he was at fault? Was he doing this all out of guilt, because he asked you to stay? You wouldn’t get any answers out of him right now, so you just decided to enjoy the chocolate croissant.

“I am having a good day, don’t worry.” You remembered, “By the way I saw some shops out front. They had a lot of merchandise with familiar faces on them…”

“Oh no. What did you see?” He laughed, covering his face in his hands. He was so cute. You smiled, trying not to get distracted by how adorable he looked, “It was cool but I just… couldn’t wrap my head around it. How does it feel having your face literally everywhere?”

He took a long sip of his cappuccino, “Well…it takes some getting used to, but after a point you do.”

“I don’t think I could get used to my face being plastered everywhere, and people having it in their homes and stuff? It makes me anxious just thinking about it” You shuddered at just the thought, “You’re very brave.”

“Well, yeah you’d have your artwork in people’s homes instead.” He shrugged. You looked up at him, surprised, “That’s so far in the future, I can’t comprehend that”

“Maybe I could be your first buyer” He leaned back in his chair, “Would youu sell me one of your paintings for…a half a million won?”

“If you spend that much money on my shitty paintings, people would definitely think you’re sleeping with the artist.” You mumbled. He lift the mug to his mouth, eyes on yours over the rim, as he drank, “I suppose.”

If you could record your heartbeat in the moment, it’d cross inhumane levels surely. You stared at him, fighting the urge to smile, “Unfortunately, you’re fresh out of luck. All my paintings are in the trash as of last week…including the one I was actually proud of…the one I was working on for the prize.”

He grimaced, “Can I ask you what that painting was about?”

“Um. It was just based off this scientific theory… it’s silly.” You felt shy explaining the concept — it was completely inspired by the things Hyunjin had told you in the comfort of the night skies of Daejon. He frowned, putting away his food, “Tell me”

“I remember you telling me that there weren’t any stars in the city, and I was wondering…what would happen if there weren’t any for real. At all. In the world.”

He seemed intrigued, “And what did you find?”

“Just a bunch of theories, but… it’d make the universe a pretty bleak place. Most life would cease to exist…and I was trying to paint the ruins of the universe, or what would be left when everything was gone. I was trying out this new watercolour technique, for it to be abstract enough that it was up for interpretation but also concrete enough that…people felt despair when they looked at it.”

“That’s…depressing.” He blinked. You laughed, “I guess. You inspired me, I suppose.”

“Well, it seems like that painting would have been really beautiful. I’m sorry you lost it, but…I don’t understand why you threw the others away. I thought…you liked keeping all your old paintings, and holding onto those memories…”

For some reason you found yourself being so truthful with him, digging deep into your psyche to how you felt, “Man, I don’t know…everything in my life kind of feels stupid and meaningless right now. I wasted years of my life trying to get into that apprenticeship, only to basically be kicked out one semester in… it’s funny. And now I’m sitting in my apartment in my dream city with nothing to do. I guess holding onto things just feels stupid now. There’s no point. I don’t even feel like painting anymore.”

“You… shouldn’t feel that way, Y/N.” He suddenly sounded so sad, looking at you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be sad anymore, you’d already lost everything. You shrugged, “It’s fine honestly… I’m sure I’ll eventually find some new dream to die over. I’m obsessive like that. I know there’s something out there…that’s meant for me. Probably.” The conversation seemed to have changed the mind though so you apologised, “Sorry for killing the mood.”

“You didn’t.” He responded instantly, and there was a deep emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place. You’d seen glimpses of it before, in moments when he’d kissed you, when you’d talk to him back in Daejon, but you’d never seen it like this. It was ever-present now, and prominent, like he wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. Your eyes traveled over his face, and he was gazing at you in a way that made you want to curl up into yourself. It was too much.

You bit into the croissant, aware of the messy chocolate on your lips, and glanced in the window hoping to catch a bit of your reflection. You wanted to make sure you looked fine, especially sitting across someone who looked perfect, croissant crumbs on his lips. No wonder his face was in every shop here. You were seriously sitting across Hyunjin on a rooftop cafe in Seoul, for real. It felt like a dream. This wasn’t a date. Yet everything about it felt like one. It was hard to wrap your head around this reality. Hyunjin was draped in sunset light and casually sipped his coffee, looking at you like that — like he was simultaneously trying to figure you out, and like you also held all the answers to the universe.The sky was a beautiful hue of pink and orange, casting a bright glow over the entire top floor. He looked out the window, and you observed him, and then he swiftly reached into his little book bag, taking out a camera. He must want to capture the beauty of the sunset, but instead he surprised you, “Can I please take a picture of you?”

You stiffened up, “Right now..?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, pushing his sunglasses up so he could look through the camera viewfinder. You glanced at your reflection again, and you looked fine but your lipgloss was smudged. You felt conscious, “Do you mind if I fix my lip—”

“No” He immediately interrupted, sitting up, “I mean… Don’t fix it, please. I like it the way it is.”

You frowned, “But it’s all messy…”

“I know.”

His gaze pierced yours, sending shivers down your spine. And hell, you were supposed to be mad at him for a million things but you don’t think anybody had ever made you feel this beautiful before and he hadn’t even said anything. It was just the way he looked at you, the depth of his gaze, the intensity in his expression and his eagerness to capture you like this.

“Oh…okay” You nodded, and his lips spread into a satisfied smile. He lift the camera up, snapping a few and you didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wish you were capturing the way Hyunjin looked at you instead. You could be a hundred years old and never get tired of that expression. His smile had given way to concentration, and he continued taking pictures of you. You wonder if you would ever get used to how he made you feel.

You think all of this had to mean something. You weren’t stupid. He’d been flirting with you the entire day, and you hadn’t stopped him, or questioned it. After all, his way of talking didn’t feel like anything new. It was just how he used to be with you. Every compliment spoken so… easily and tenderly. After being away from his adoration for months, it felt like being plunged into an ice-cold bath. He had no qualms about being too direct or straightforward. He wasn’t sugarcoating anything. Had he finally given up on the charade of not wanting you in his life? Because right now, you were very much in his life. He put the camera down as if he’d heard your private thoughts, “Thank you for today. I was worried before that I had somehow ruined everything…” He paused, as if he was struggling with his thoughts, “With you. I know I dug myself into that hole…but…it feels good to be here with you. Feels like nothing changed since summer.”

Your heart constricted at those words, making you feel uneasy, but you smiled, because he seemed so happy in the moment. Except you didn’t want it to be like summer anymore though. Summer was beautiful, but it wasn’t enough. You desired and wanted more. You needed more of him with you, on you, in you, and now…after everything that had happened, after today, you somehow felt brave enough to not shy away from it.

»»————-

Your little evening with Hyunjin had already ruined you. You’d been home for just a few hours, and you’d already started reliving the events in your mind. You hadn’t even taken off the jacket he bought you, even though it would get crumpled the longer you wore it. You tried to distract yourself by cooking dinner so the scent of food could fill your apartment instead, but it still couldn’t rival the lingering fragrance of his cologne that clung to the jacket draped over your chair.

Only an hour had passed and you gave up trying to distract yourself and sat on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about him, and you should probably try to protect your heart. You knew you should probably take off this jacket that cost hundreds. You’d worked so hard to try to move on but now that he was fighting to be in your life, it was like all your efforts had been for nothing. You ended up pulling up his videos, watching all of his performances from years and years ago, seeing the way he grew over time into the performer he was. All of the comments were in love with him. Millions, just like you, watching him in their bedrooms. You knew for sure, that you couldn’t let things go back to what they were: just fleeting moments of passion, and waiting on the edge of your seat for the next kiss. You knew now, that you needed something real from him. You’d changed and pretending that your feelings hadn’t deepened in his absence would only be a useless task.

»»————-

There was a voicemail in your inbox from Kairi. It had been a few days since you’d gone out with Hyunjin, and he’d unwittingly inspired you to step the fuck out of your apartment. You’d been walking through the market, browsing the collections of knick-knacks and shops, trying to find something Felix and Minho would really like. You wanted to mail stuff home that reminded you of them. You pressed your phone to your ear, trying to hear Kairi’s voicemail over the noise of the streets. She started out saying, “Hey, Y/N. I tried calling you, but I think you were busy so I just thought I’d leave you a message, and you can get back to me whenever. I know a lot is going on with you, and I haven’t exactly been the best friend I could have. I’m sorry, I guess I was still trying to readjust to having Chris back in my life.”

The electronics store you stepped into was huge, spanning almost five different floors, featuring tech that you hadn’t even heard of. The aisles were full of inventions and gadgets that Daejon could only even dream of. Kairi’s voicemail continued, “So what I was getting at is that there’s a…dinner party at my apartment. It’s…sort of an annual thing, I do it every year. My parents used to host them, but I've been doing them ever since they moved out. It’s fancy for no reason at all, but I love doing it because it’s a tradition? It’s not a lot of people, usually just me, the boys, and some of Chan’s friends. I’m going to make a six-course meal, and that sounds crazy. I guess it is, but I like doing it. Anyway, I guess this is just a long-winded way of me saying that…I would really like if you were there.”

You stopped in the middle of the aisle, listening to her continue, “I know that probably sounds like a lot for you, and… I’ve had these parties each year and I never really invite anybody, because it’s just…a really small gathering. The boys have been overworked too, so this would be perfect for them. I completely understand if you don’t want to come, but please consider it. I really want you there, and…you can bring Nate. I know that might put you at ease. Just think about it and let me know.”

Despite how warm her invitation made you feel, it was this Saturday. The same night you were going out with Nate. You had already long promised him you’d be his plus-one to the wedding reception. He was your friend and you couldn’t bail on him, no matter how much you craved to see Hyunjin and Kairi, and the others. Meeting him would just have to wait.

»»————-

Jeonghan’s arm fit perfectly on your waist, and he was all smiles as he introduced you to the rest of his family. Surprisingly, you weren’t nervous about tonight at all. His presence brought you ease. You’d bought a new dress, the color of cherries, a bow decorating the back, hoping it would match the vibe of everybody else at the reception. It made you feel confident enough to tackle tonight. It was a cold night, and the dress fell to your thighs, but nobody else seemed to care about the weather as they danced in strappy tops, and short skirts. Jeonghan, on the other hand, made you feel confident too. He’d proudly introduced you to everyone, and for a while there, it almost felt like you were going out together. He leaned into your ear, breath warm on your neck, “So, how are we feeling?”

You spoke through a smile, watching the guests on the dance floor, “Well. I’ve certainly never been to a wedding reception this fancy…people here really spend money on everything.”

He shook his head, “Nope. They just like to show that they can.” You glanced at him, “You know you are talking about your own family, right?” You had known Jeonghan was well-off, but truthfully, you never knew he was this wealthy. The wedding reception had been grand, and ice sculptures decorated each table setting. It was all a bit much, you could appreciate the grandeur though. He rolled his eyes, “Mum and dad have been planning this day their whole lives. I’m surprised they didn’t fly us all out to an island in the Bahamas.”

“Well, I would’ve loved to be your plus-one for that.” You laughed. He shrugged, “Who knows? Maybe for my wedding."

It was a beautiful location anyway, even if it wasn’t the Bahamas. An outdoor garden setting, hundreds of twinkling lights lit up the trees, and a dance floor where all the guests were letting loose, clearly very tipsy. You looked up at the canopy of trees, which were decorated with lush wildflowers, “Those alone must have cost you millions of won.”

“Much like your company tonight” He mumbled. You laughed, looking at him, “Whatever do you mean?”

He turned to face you, both hands grabbing you by the waist, “You know I really thought you’d ditch me tonight. Don’t you have your friend’s dinner party tonight?”

“Well…you asked me first. I made you a promise. I happen to be a good friend.”

Jeonghan smiled prettily, and he looked handsome today in the tuxedo, his hair swept back. He pulled you closer, hands on your bare back, “Thank you. Tonight would have sucked without you.”

“It’s your sister’s wedding. That’s not very nice to say” You frowned, teasing him. He chuckled, “Precisely. It’s her wedding, and I had no say on the guest list. You’re the only one I picked to be here tonight.”

You smiled, uncaring of the fact that you were in a very public space with almost all his relatives watching your intimate exchange, “I’m honored to be there for you.”

His eyes drifted over you, cheeks darkening, “You really do look pretty tonight. The other guy is definitely missing out.”

You rolled your eyes, the mention of Hyunjin stinging you a little bit, but all the wine you’d consumed tonight made it more bearable.

“Nate, honey, can you come here a second?” An older woman interrupted, stepping over to you. One of the guests, who he’d introduced to you as his aunt, smiled at the two of you, “I’m sorry to interrupt. I need your help with something, sweetie.”

Unwillingly, Jeonghan let go of you, fingers brushing the bow on your back as he did. “I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” He spoke. You laughed, “Don’t worry. Take your time.”

He leaned in, pressing a cheek to your kiss before following his aunt through the crowd. You smiled as he left whilst complaining about whatever task she put him up to. Being here with Jeonghan felt intimate, but it was never uncomfortable. You felt relaxed around him and his family, and he never pushed your boundaries. The reception had also been beautiful, and even though you didn’t know the wedding couple, the hopeless romantic in you craved for the kind of love they held. They’d been high school sweethearts, and the idea of that itself felt crazy to you. How must it feel to be so sure of your choice, and to have been in love for so long? You held your purse tightly, watching the couples on the dance floor. It was sweet. It was only ten minutes until Jeonghan was running back to you, “I’m sorry that took me so long. She wanted me to take pictures of her. Again!”

You laughed, “She must think you’re a real good photographer.” He rolled his eyes, “She just wants a new Facebook profile picture. I think I need more tequila.”

“That doesn’t sound like a smart idea.” You mumbled. He tugged at your hand, pulling you to the open bar, “Just one more wouldn’t hurt.”

You gave in since this was his party after all and you were only a guest, letting him lead you as he ordered you both a round of shots. He leaned against the bar, rolling his sleeves up and admittedly that made him look hot. You glanced at your phone, noticing a few messages from Kairi. You don’t know why you expected a text from Hyunjin, but in your hurry, you’d stupidly left your other phone at home. The one he bought you, where he’d text and call you. After all, keeping track of two phones was hard.

After a quick round of shots, you settled on the bar stools, watching all his drunk relatives, laughing about the stories he told you about them. The hours passed, and you were both tipsy, sitting so close at the bar. You could have easily kissed him. But you couldn’t stop thinking about Hyunjin. It’s like Jeonghan knew that too. He was holding your face, thumb brushing against your mouth as he mumbled in a drunk-haze, “You know what I think?"

"Hmm?"

"I think you should really get to that dinner, Y/N. I’ll be fine here.”

“I can’t leave you alone. I promised you.” You spoke. He laughed, “And I’m glad you came, but…wouldn’t your friend feel bad if you don’t show up?”

“She knows I have…prior obligations. They wouldn’t miss me.” You frowned, and suddenly the anxiety was back in your stomach. You were a little tired, and the thought of showing up at the dinner, where Hyunjin would definitely be, paralyzed you. Yet you also told Kairi you’d try your best to make it, even if only for a little while to grab dessert and you had to be a good friend to her too. Jeonghan nodded, “Just show up for her. I’m sure she would want you there. Plus, you look…really hot tonight. It’d be a waste to only wear that dress in front of my traditional old relatives. I’ll call you a taxi, okay?”

He was right. The formalities of the reception was over and now it was probably just going to be a never-ending party until dawn. It would be nice to see Kairi and the others tonight, even if you weren’t mentally prepared for it at all. You hadn’t thought you’d get a chance to get there at all. You cracked a smile at his consideration, looking up at him, “I guess I should get going now, if I want to make it in time for dessert. Only because you’re forcing me.”

Jeonghan nodded, helping you jump off the bar stool, and you looked back at the reception party. Everybody was having so much fun, you wish you could stay the entire night. You let Jeonghan lead you to the street, where the taxi waited for you. He thanked you for showing up and kissed you a short goodbye. When you sat in the taxi, you sent Kairi a simple text that you were on your way, and you hope that you were still welcome there.

»»————-

Of course things weren't going to go your way. The cab driver dropped you off on the wrong street, and after a long struggle in your kitten-heels you finally made it to Kairi’s doorstep. The cold had definitely sobered you up a bit, bringing back your nervousness about being here, but Kairi had clearly felt comfortable enough to have you over so you’d suck it up. Her place was inside a lavish apartment complex, and you rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently. Your stomach was already twisting at the prospect of meeting everyone, and at seeing him again. It was Chan who answered the door, and for a second it felt like you had no idea what to say, until he grinned, “You’re here!” He stepped forward and pulled you into a half-hug, on his doorstep. You were taken aback, definitely not expecting the physical contact. After all this was only your second time meeting him, but you bought your arm up, hugging him back briefly. His hair was curly, and he smelled nice. It was all you registered before he stepped back, inviting you in.

“I’m sorry I’m so late. I was at a wedding…” You began to explain, and he shook his head, curls bouncing, “Don’t apologise! Kairi told me you had plans already so no hard feelings. We’re just glad you could make it in time…let me take your coat.”

He grabbed it from you, hooking it on a coat hanger as you looked around. It was a decently sized place, far bigger than your apartment. A set of stairs led to another floor. Dinner must have been really good, because you could still smell the aromas. Chan said, “And…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but sorry for my behaviour the last time we met, at Kairi’s birthday. I was really drunk and emotional, I’m not usually like that.”

“No, you were just really fucking desperate.” Kairi’s voice interrupted, and she ran over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Relief surged through you at seeing her here. She looked beautiful, in a midnight blue corset, and high-waisted black pants to match and you smiled at her, “You look so good. Thank you for having me over. ”

“Me?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow, “Look at you. You’re all dolled up, like a fairy.”

“I’m really sorry I missed dinner. It smells amazing.” You frowned. She sighed dramatically, “I missed you to death, but I’ll live. This just means we need to do another one of these soon. Come on, everybody’s in there!”

Before you could mentally prepare, she’d pulled you into another room, Chan following behind. You tried to register everything. It was a cosy living room, ambient purple and orange lighting cast over everything. A popular pop song was playing at a low volume in the background. There was a lot of seating, a couch, and a bunch of unique, colourful chairs surrounded the coffee table. There seemed to be a lot of people in the room, and maybe that last round of shots had been a bad idea as you tried to register all of their faces. They were all busy in conversation, wine glasses in hand, not having noticed you yet, and you hoped it stayed like so. That way, you could just slip into conversation with no embarrassing announcement of your arrival. This was the first time you’d be meeting the band. There were two other people here that you didn’t recognise. They were both dressed casually, in cargo pants and a white beanie, and you felt a bit overdressed. “They’re some of Chan’s friends, and they work with the band. That’s Hanbin and that’s Sunmi.” Kairi leaned in to whisper. Somebody in the corner was playing the piano, a beautiful low melody, and Kairi tapped him on the shoulder, saying, “Hey. She’s here.”

Immediately, he stopped playing. Jisung — the one on the piano — burst into a smile and stood up, “Shit. You’re actually like, here!” He pulled you into a hug, just like Chan had, and they must all be touchy or very drunk. As he stepped back, he continued smiling, extending a hand, “Han Jisung, by the way.”

“We’ve met before…kind of.” You said, meeting his hand with yours. Realisation sank into his face, and all his expressions were exaggerated as he nodded, “Right, right, we have. In the company building when I dropped all your coins at the vending machine…I was an idiot.”

“When are you not?” Somebody joined you, slinging a strong arm around Jisung. You recognized him from the pictures, “Hey, Y/N…You must know who I am, right?” Changbin had a coy smile on his face, dressed in a navy button-up that only he could probably make look this good. You smiled at him, “Yeah, I do. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

He smiled, gesturing to someone, “I don’t think you’ve met Hanbin.” At those words, the boy you didn’t know stood from the couch, and you regretted pulling them out of their comfortable conversation circle, “Oh, you don’t need to get up for me.”

In the midst of the chaos and onslaught of introductions, your eyes finally found Hyunjin. He was standing by the couch, a drink in his hand, at the far end of the room, laughing about something with a girl — who was probably Sunmi. Your stomach jumped, goosebumps rippling up your entire body. He looked absolutely fucking insane. In a good way, in the best way. His hair was tied up into a low ponytail, but strands of hair fell into his face, framing it perfectly. The purple light cast rhythmic shadows on his face. He stood in a black sweater, and tight denim-wash jeans, one hand tucked into his pocket. He was only standing in a living room, but he could just as easily have been posing for a Vogue photoshoot, by his perfect stance. He hadn’t realized you were here yet, or maybe he was pretending to not notice. You didn’t have time to think about it before Hanbin stepped ahead, blocking him from your view, “Kairi would not stop talking about you the past three hours.”

You flushed, “Oh… I wish I could have been here for the entire dinner. Knowing her, it must have been great.”

“We did save you some.” Chan added. You murmured a thank you, feeling dizzy from all the attention. They were almost all talking over each other, and you were already so overwhelmed. Jisung gestured to you, “Grab a drink and sit with me.”

“No, let her eat first. Baby, you mind heating up the leftovers for Y/N?” Kairi asked Chan. You shook your head, “Please, there’s no need for that. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

Kairi rolled her eyes, “Girl, you’re my guest of honor.” Chan smiled at you, “You can follow me.”

So, you went with him into the hallway, passing by a doorway. A door was left ajar, a glimpse into a room. It was only half a second, but you saw a wooden bed frame and a sliver of a wall of art, “Is that Kairi’s room?”

Chan shook his head, “It used to be, but she made it into a guest bedroom. Hyunjin mostly sleeps in there now. Come on. The kitchen’s through here.” He said, his strong voice guiding you through the corridor. “Right, sorry,” you said, turning away from the door and following him to the kitchen. The kitchen was big too, and set up beautifully, with marble countertops and a small kitchen island. Chan reached into the sink, rummaging through some dirty dishes, “Sorry. We’ve been meaning to run the dishwasher. Kairi kind of goes crazy at these dinners.”

You leaned against the counter, “That’s fine. No judgement.”

“Thank you.” He laughed, looking over his shoulder at you, “We’re usually much more organized than this, I promise.”

“You have a lot on your plate already, Chan. I completely understand.” You told him, with a smile. He laughed, “You’re sweet. I’m just heating up some of the chicken and fondant potatoes for you. That good?”

“Could I actually have some water? If… that’s okay” You asked. He smiled, “Of course it is. Make yourself at home. There are some clean mugs in the cabinet. You can just grab one and help yourself.” You walked around the island, opening up the cabinet. Mugs of different shapes and sizes were arranged precisely in there, and Kairi’s unique taste was definitely recognisable. A cerulean blue mug made of porcelain rested in the very back. You rather get a mug they sparsely used, so you reached for it, pulling it out. Pushing it under the tap, you began filling it with water. Chan glanced at you and your selection, “Oh. That’s Hyunjin’s favorite.”

You stilled, “Oh. Sorry. Should I pick another?”

Of course it fucking was. Why did you have to pick that one amongst all of them? “No, no, go ahead. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Chan smiled, pushing a button to start the dishwasher and then crossed his arms towards you, “I’ll just go see if the guys need any more drinks.”

“Sure.” You responded, taking a slow sip from the mug, and the knowledge that it was his favourite mug made you feel jittery. Doing all those shots before coming to see Hyunjin had been a terrible idea. You grabbed your water and held it tight, returning to the living room, where you could hear loud laughter from. They were all back in conversation, and Changbin was imitating a silly dance, making Hyunjin laugh. You stood under the archway, watching them. A few seconds went by, and Hyunjin was still laughing, crinkled eyes, and he reached up to tuck his hair back absentmindedly, and that’s when he saw you.

You don’t know what you were expecting. He stilled, eyes widening, trailing off in the middle of his conversation. He really hadn’t known you had arrived. His lips formed a small smile, and that was so fucking attractive, and from across the room, he mouthed, “Hey.”

The tension within you dissipated. You had to fight your smile, feeling lovestruck and lovesick by a smile word. All he said was hi. Then why did your knees already feel weak? Why did it feel like the first time you had seen him, unable to comprehend anything except his absolutely, insane beauty? You shot him a soft smile, mouthing back, “Hey.”

He sidestepped his friends, walking over to you, and you felt shy under his intense gaze. His stance was casual and so confident, and in another universe you could imagine meeting him at a college party like this. “You came.” He spoke, and you tilt your head up to look him in the eyes, “Yeah. I did.”

His eyes fell to the mug in your hands, and you realised there was a lipstick stain on it. Your lipstick stain. On his stuff. You apologised, “Um, sorry, Chan said I can—”

“Don’t worry” He interrupted too quick, eyes flickering over your form, “How are you?”

You’d already decided this was your time to be brave, and you weren’t going to hold back tonight, “I’m okay. I’ve been wanting to reach out to you and I—”

“So, what took you so long tonight?” Hanbin asked, stepping up to the two of you. You glanced at him, wishing he hadn’t interrupted you but he was being polite so you spoke, “Oh, I was at a wedding reception. I promised my friend I’d be his date.”

“Ahh. That’s why you’re dressed up so pretty. Was it a good reception?” He asked. You smiled at his compliment, “Yeah. I…had a great time actually. It was definitely a fancy event.”

“Can I see the pictures? Please tell me you took some!” Kairi asked, overhearing the conversation. She was perched on Chan’s lap, and you shot Hyunjin an apologetic smile, you’d just have to speak to him later and you handed your phone over to her, “Yeah, actually I did. Jeonghan is kind of obsessed with taking pictures, so we took a lot.”

She scrolled through your gallery, and Jisung leaned in over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pictures too, “Wow. That shit looks…expensive.Your friend’s loaded.”

You laughed, “I guess his family is pretty rich.”

“He took a lot of pictures of just you.” Kairi teased, scrolling through, “I mean, I don’t blame him. You look like you stepped out of a fairytale.”

“Um. You should have seen the bride.” You laughed. Jisung was still nosily peeking into your phone, “So, who’s Jeonghan?”

“He’s a…friend.” You explained, while Chan handed you a drink. It seemed like one of his famous cocktails Hyunjin had told you about, but nothing could beat the drink he had made you on his last night in Daejon. Despite how much you wanted to try this, you really didn’t want to be drunk tonight, “Um…I shouldn’t. I already drank more than I should have tonight.”

“I mean, objectively, the best thing about weddings is the open bars,” Changbin pointed out. You laughed, “You’re right and Jeonghan used that same excuse to force me through five rounds of tequila.”

Jisung’s eyes widened, “You’re fucking kidding me. You must have a high tolerance if you’re so sober after five shots.”

“I think the walk in the cold definitely contributed to that” You joked, and then explained due to his perplexed look, “I must have put in the wrong location because the cab driver dropped me off a few blocks away.”

“In those shoes? I would have given up.” Changbin asked.

“So you took a cab alone?” Hyunjin suddenly asked. Your gaze darted to him, surprised he’d spoken up and you hadn’t realised how much you’d insanely missed his delicate voice. You nodded, “Um, yeah.”

“Your… friend sent you here in a cab when you were drunk and by yourself?”

“I mean…yeah. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Nate couldn’t have dropped you here?” He asked. You frowned, “It’s not like I was gonna ask him to bring me here, it was his family’s party.” His eyebrows shot up, “Isn’t he rich? I’m sure he could have figured out a way.”

“These pictures are beautiful,” Kairi spoke, cutting the tension in the room as she handed you your phone back. You were staring at Hyunjin, and at his misplaced concern. Changbin had also clearly picked up on it, because he nudged him in the stomach, “If you were so worried about her, you should have offered to pick her up.”

Hyunjin took a sip of his drink, nonchalant face, “I did.”

Your eyes widened. When did he offer that? You showed your honest surprise, “I… didn’t know.”

The room was quiet, and Jisung chuckled, “Must be the first girl in history to ignore your texts, Jinnie”.

The others laughed, but Hyunjin genuinely looked hurt that you hadn’t taken him up on his offer. In all truth, you never saw that text. If you did, you would have said yes. You’d forgotten the phone he gave you at your bedside table, and you couldn’t be blamed for not being able to keep track of it when so much was going on. You shook your head, “No, I just…had a lot on my mind, I was with Jeonghan the whole day, I must have missed it.”

Your response satisfied the room, but seemed to be the wrong answer for Hyunjin by the slight hurt in his eyes that only you noticed. It sucked because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel like that tonight.

“So how do you know Kairi?” Hanbin asked, smiling attentively at you. You couldn’t focus, hoping Hyunjin wasn’t genuinely hurt and spoke, “Oh…it was just a coincidence. I met her in a bar.” Kairi nodded along, “And she offered to give me her jacket! Some fucking loser had thrown his drink on me.”

Hanbin laughed, adjusting his beanie, “I see. I see...So I take it you’re not a fan then?”

“Sorry?”

“You ain’t heard these guys’ music before?” He gestured towards the boys. You nodded, realising he was asking if you liked the band “Oh, some of it, yeah.”

“Oh, you’re hurting my feelings, Y/N.” Changbin pouted. Sunmi rolled her eyes, “No, it’s a breath of fresh air to see you not fawning over them. I like you already.”

Oh, if only she knew how much you did obsess over one of them. She would be concerned for you, if she could read your mind around him. You forced a smile, “I just honestly… hadn’t heard of it until a few months ago.”

Her eyes widened, “You’re kidding. How do you live in Seoul and not hear of them?” Then Chan leaned forward, adding to explain to you, “Sunmi’s one of our producers, by the way. She’s been with us since our second album. One of the best.”

“And Y/N isn’t a local.” Kairi added, “She moved here a while ago.”

“Yeah the music scene back home is….not the biggest.” You said briefly, not wanting to talk about yourself too much. You had been hoping to blend in, not be the centre of attention tonight and Sunmi asked, “And where is… back home?”

“Okay! A pause on the questions. I need Y/N for something.” Kairi interrupted, coming over to you and leaned in to whisper, “Wanna come with me to the kitchen? I’m getting another drink.”

You nodded, relieved she could pick up on your body language. As soon as you were out of earshot of the living room, she mumbled, “I’m sorry. They ask you a lot of questions. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”

“No, I don’t mind, I’m just kind of tired and feel like I may not be at my best social energy right now.” You apologised, leaning against the counter, as she made a cocktail for herself. Her eyes wandered over you, “You really do look beautiful. I love the glitter eyeshadow.”

“You like my bow?” You smiled, twirling to show her. She laughed, “It’s the cherry on top. So, how was it tonight with Nate? As far as I remember…. he has the biggest crush on you, or he’s just a very sincere… fuckboy.”

“Regardless…I had a really good time with him.” You said, running your finger along the marble slab. You could hear Jisung and Changbin’s loud laughter from the other room. They seemed like a lot of fun, and you definitely wanted to relax for the rest of the night. You wanted them to like you too, so perhaps you could do with a little liquid courage. As if she read your mind, Kairi finished mixing her drink then tilt her head, “You suuure you don’t want one?”

But every other time you’d gotten tipsy around Hyunjin, you’d ended up doing something stupid. “No, I…think I’ll stick with water.” You decided. She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her vodka, “Did you two kiss tonight?”

“Me and Jeonghan…?” You were surprised at the question. She hummed, “Yeah, sorry if that was weird to ask. I just know…things between you and Hyunjin…aren’t the best.”

“Did you hear us? The other night in the car?” You ended up asking, even though it was embarrassing for you to bring up that argument. She looked up at you, “Bits and pieces.”

“And what’d you think?” You bit your lip. She sighed, “I think you both…have a lot of pent-up feelings. It’s good you got them out.”

“It felt…immature to fight him. I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I’m usually not…that vocal”

“There was nothing wrong with what you said. I mean, trust me, I’ve had a hell of a lot more aggressive fights with Chris. We end up saying a lot of stuff we don’t mean.”

“Well, that’s the thing. I meant everything. I don’t really regret any of it.”

“Then he needed to hear that.” Kairi agreed, “I didn’t know he cut you off like that completely. I would have been devastated if I was you. I’d say you handled it pretty well… Hyunjin doesn’t really talk to me about you, and I wish I could be more helpful. How do you feel now?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know if I mentioned it to you, but he took me shopping last week… I don’t know how I feel about it. It felt a lot like a date, but it wasn’t. I just…wish I had some surety from him, you know?”

Her hand landed on yours comfortingly, “Well, you don’t have to decide right now. I’m just glad you chose to come tonight.”

“Are you girls gonna spend the entire night gossiping without us?” Jisung interrupted. You turned and saw him in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. You hope he didn’t overhear anything. Kairi laughed, “What do you need?”

Jisung grinned widely, “Well, actually. I was gonna go get ice from the fridge upstairs, if any of you want to accompany me for that? Make you feel helpful.”

“I could come with.” You offered, smiling at him. He did a small fist pump, “Exactly the outcome I was hoping for. No offence, Kair”

As you followed him up the stairs to the storage room, he reminded you, “Be careful, your heels. I’ve fallen face-first on these steps more times than I’d admit.”

Your heart warmed at his concern, and you grabbed the bannister to keep your balance.“Cool place though, right?” He asked, looking back at you as you observed the framed pictures on the wall and he continued, “Me and the boys used to spend a lot of our weekends here.”

“Oh? That must have been nice….” You walked into a storage room, of sorts. A mini-fridge stood in the corner and Jisung pulled it open, grabbing the ice box as he looked back at you, “Yeah. Kairi got so sick of having us over, she ended up turning her study into another guest room.”

“Of course she did.” You laughed, “Do you still come here often?”

He shook his head, reaching for more ice, “After Chan and Kairi broke up, we obviously stopped for a while, but… I’m hoping to get back to normal. Couldn’t be more thrilled that they’re back together.”

“Me too. They seem pretty…perfect for each other.” You smiled. He stood up straight, his ribbed top riding up, and you looked away. All of them were so attractive it was hard to comprehend such a pretty friend group existed. He grinned at you, “I should thank you for that.”

“Me? I… didn’t do anything”

“Do you mind holding this?” He handed you the ice box momentarily, “Well, Hyunjin told me that you helped them meet up at her birthday.”

“Oh. Right.” You nodded, gripping it within your hands and it was freezing, condensation making it slip in your palms, “I…guess I did.” You had the urge to ask him what else he talked about with him, but this was your first time meeting Jisung, and that would be weird to ask. “Sure sounded like a fun party. Hyunjin told me you organise those a lot.” Jisung continued, taking back the ice box from you, “And tell me about it downstairs. I would love to talk to you in this storage room all night, but… let’s get this ice to them before all of it melts, and before Changbin threatens to kill me again.”

Back in the living room, the music seemed louder when you returned, and Hyunjin was engaged in an intense conversation with Sunmi and Changbin. Kairi was showing Chan something on her phone. You settled on a seat, and Jisung naturally pulled up a chair to be closer to you. He clinked his drink with yours, before he took a big mouthful, cheeks full of the liquid before swallowing. “So…what was I saying?” Jisung asked, dropping his voice so only you could hear him. You took a sip of your water, already feeling more at ease around him, “About how I’m a really great party planner.”

He smiled, “Right. That. Have you ever thought of doing that professionally?”

You laughed, “Honestly, I don’t know what Hyunjin was talking about. I’ve only organised two parties in my life…my best friend's and Kairi’s…they both ended in a disaster.”

“You’re too hard on yourself, I’m sure.” Jisung rolled his eyes, “So… he also happened to mention you’re real good at art. Can I see some of it or are you going to be shrouded in mystery forever?”

You giggled, reaching for your phone, “There is absolutely nothing mysterious about that, Jisung. You can see it, but… it’s not the best.”

He peeked into your phone gallery as you showed him a few paintings you’d made over the past few years, and Jisung probably wasn’t interested in art, but he still smiled, reacting overtly to each of them and even pointing out which ones he liked. He reminded you a lot of Yeonjun in that sense, where he took interest in something just because of his friends. He was playful, and it was nice to see the physical manifestation of all the stories Hyunjin told you about. You glanced up and Hyunjin was looking at you, probably curious about why you and Jisung were peeking into your phone, so you explained, “I was just showing him some of my paintings.”

He nodded, making brief eye contact with Jisung before he said, “Ah. I’m uh…going to check on the dessert.”

“Do you want my help?” You asked, already moving to stand up. He shook his head, “No, don’t worry. I wouldn’t wanna pull you away from the conversation.”

Disappointed, you settled back down, and Jisung spoke, “Can I ask you something, honestly though?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you leave your fancy wedding date to come here?”

“I…promised Kairi I’d try to make it here.” You replied, staring at the liquid in your glass. Jisung hummed, “Right, right. I see.” You were glad he didn’t push you further, seeing as how he was Hyunjin’s best friend and any answer you could come up with would be embarrassing. Before you could say anything further anyway, Changbin started talking about an incident on their trip to Japan, and you let yourself be swept up into the conversation. He was a great storyteller, and so charismatic. It wasn’t too hard to imagine why they were so famous. You’d only been here an hour or so, and you could listen to them talk for hours. Almost mesmerised by their dynamic, you watched the boys talk, losing track of time… and of how long Hyunjin had been gone. Your mug lay empty on the coffee table, and you stood up to refill it, when Changbin asked, “Where the fuck is Jinnie?”

“Probably hyper-fixating in the kitchen. Y/N, do you think you could call him out?” Jisung replied, looking at you expectantly. You blanked, feeling taken aback by the question. Kairi noticed, moving to stand, “Um, I can get—”

“No, that’s fine.” You spoke. You were braver than that and it would finally give you the chance to talk to him by yourself, “I can just get him.”

“Okay…” She settled back down, shooting you a comforting smile. You walked over to the kitchen, and your heels were so loud on the tiled floor that he’d definitely hear you coming. The door was closed, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to interrupt him.

“Come in.” His voice carried to you. You pushed the door open, eyes falling on him. He was leaning against the counter, drinking from his glass, staring into nothing. Well. He was staring at the oven, but why was he alone in here? He looked over his shoulder, eyes flickering over your form, “Oh. Hey.”

You stood awkwardly by the door, hand holding it open, “Hi. Um. The guys were…asking for you. I thought you were getting dessert.” He looked around, at the mess of things, “I was. It’s still not ready, so I decided to wait for it. You can let them know I’ll be there soon.”

“Oh.” You spoke, wondering if you should leave… but you were curious, “You’ve been in here by yourself for really long.”

“Yeah. Just wanted to be by myself for a bit.”

A tinge of hurt hit you, “Oh…do you want me to leave?”

He let out a sigh, putting his glass on the counter, and turned to face you, “No…you don’t have to do that.”

“But…you just said you want to be by yourself.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, amused look on his face, “That…obviously doesn’t include you.”

You’d been standing on the threshold the entire time, but at those words, you stepped in, letting the door shut behind you. You looked around the little kitchen, “Sorry I used your mug.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “That’s fine. I’m surprised you ended up picking mine. Guess we like the same things.”

“You could say that.” You breathed, hands behind your back. His gaze felt so strong on you, and it was so quiet in here compared to the chaos of the outside. He smiled lightly, when you asked him, “So…what dessert are we having tonight?”

He glanced at the oven, “A…strawberry tart. You like those?”

You thought about it, “I don’t know. I haven’t had one since I was a kid anyway.”

Hyunjin put his hands on the counter, tilting his head, “Really? Felix never baked one for you?”

“He was kind of obsessed with chocolate…I had too much of that.” You recalled. Hyunjin smiled, nodding, “Right. I remember trying out the treats he made us…when we went to the Creek for the swim.”

“Wow…that feels like it was ages ago.” You remembered. Hyunjin nodded, “It was. I guess. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

“Do you miss it?” You ended up asking. His expression softened, “I…do. Your friends were fun to hang out with.”

“Aren’t they your friends too?” You laughed. He shrugged cutely, “Right, but I don’t think I would’ve talked to anybody in town if it wasn’t for you.”

You smiled, “I think you’re giving me too much credit. That was all Hana. She’s the one who…introduced you to us.”

“You miss them? Your friends?” He asked. You sighed, leaning against the door, crossing your arms to keep warm as you thought about it, “Yeah. Recently I’ve missing home so much and my friends, well at this point they’re…like my family. It sucks being separated from them. Kind of like…how you felt when you were away from the boys.”

“I’m sorry if I forced you to stay.” He suddenly said, “I realize that…it may have been my emotionally clouded judgment, and I feel like… I guilted you into staying here. Maybe it was selfish of me.”

Your eyes narrowed, a realisation sinking in as to why he seemed a little distant, “Is that why you’re in here by yourself?”

He nodded, “Yeah. Just needed to take my mind off things. I guess honestly, I just…miss spending time with you, like we did back home. The other night, I was learning a new routine and realised you’ve never even seen me dance. Not in person, at least. I mean, isn’t that crazy? We’ve known each other so long, but there’s so much of me you don’t know. The thought freaked me out, and then…”

“And then?”

“Then I started thinking that it goes the other way too. There’s so much of you I still haven’t seen.” He said, “Like the other day, when you wore the jacket, I realised…I only know you in the summer. I haven’t seen you in winter."

Your heart squeezed at his confusing but thoughtful words, and you smiled, “I’m the same in all the seasons, Hyunjin.”

He was looking at you from across the room, “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Did you know I was coming here tonight?”

He shook his head, “I didn’t think you would. Kairi told me you had a wedding date with Jeonghan…”

“Yeah, I did. He understands though…this was just as important.”

He nodded, “Right.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I would love to see you dance…if you feel comfortable.”

He looked at you at that, smiling slightly, before a short embarrassed laugh, “Yeah."

The oven let out a ding, interrupting whatever you might say. He smiled wide, and his demeanour already seemed lighter, “It’s done. Do you wanna do the honor?”

“Oh. Sure”. You stepped over to him,, and he pulled open the oven door. He was standing so close now that you could see the perspiration slide down his jaw, droplets cascading down neck, and he must have been nervous this whole time. You bent down to see into the oven, and it smelled amazing, but before you could grab the handle of the hot pan, you felt a firm grip on your arm stopping you, “Wait—”.

Startled, you looked up at Hyunjin, his hand circling your wrist tightly, “What?”

His eyes searched yours, “It’s burning hot. Y/N. You’ll hurt yourself.”

You then realised you weren’t wearing any mitts, and you were just gonna grab the baking dish like so, with bare hands. How stupid. Your hair fell into your eyes, making it harder to see Hyunjin, but you mumbled a pathetic, “Oh.”

He reached out to tuck your hair behind your ear, then let out a chuckle, voice soft, “What were you thinking?”

You swallowed, staring at his lips, “I wasn’t.”

He smiled, standing up tall, “I got this.”

Your face felt hot, and you were only a little mortified. Carefully, Hyunjin placed the baking dish on the kitchen counter, taking off his oven mitts; they were red and matched your dress. He nudged you, elbow against yours, “You wanna be the first one to try it? I’ll let you have an extra piece and if you end up liking it and want the whole thing, I can just tell the others I burnt the dish.”

You laughed, looking up at him, “You’d lie to your friends so I could have more pastry?”

A knock on the door pulled your attention to Chan. He peeked in, “Hey guys. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt…but Hanbin’s leaving, so he wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh. Of course” Hyunjin said, and you followed them out into the foyer, where Hanbin and Sumni stood in their winter coats already and everybody was gathered around them. Kairi was hugging them, when Hyunjin spoke, “You’re not staying for dessert? Come onn.”

Hanbin smiled apologetically, “Dude, it’s gonna snow again, and the traffic’s terrible. If we don’t leave now, we won’t make it home until morning.”

“Oh, you should still take some of the strawberry tart some with you” Kairi said, running back into the kitchen, “I have a few takeout containers.”

You looked at Sunmi, “You said traffic’s going to be bad?” She nodded, “Yeah, Seoul basically shuts down in bad weather. We don’t wanna risk it. It’ll only get worse, but …it was really nice meeting you tonight, Y/N.”

You glanced at Chan, realising they were probably right, and your stomach sank, “Oh. I guess I should probably get going too then.”

“What?” Jisung complained loudly, “You just got here.”

“We can drop you off.” Hanbin suggested, “Our car’s parked out front.”

Jisung let out a dramatic sigh. You didn’t really want to leave, you were just getting to warm up to Hyunjin, but you didn’t have a choice. If you didn’t leave, you could be stuck until tomorrow. You reached for your coat, “That sounds good Hanbin, as long as it’s not an inconvenience.”

Kairi walked back in with takeout boxes in hand, and her eyes narrowed, “What’s going on? Y/N’s leaving too?”

You slipped your coat on, tossing your hair out of it, “They said they could take me home. The snow’s piling up....” Kairi shook her head, “Nope. You’re not leaving.”

You laughed, stepping closer to grab her hand, “What do you mean? I don't want to leave but I I don’t exactly have a choice.”

She squeezed your hands, “Babe, you just got a few hours ago. Stay a while, and if things are still bad when you want to leave, you can just sleep in my guest bedroom. I mean, that’s what it’s for.”

You considered it, and then Changbin spoke, “See? You have no excuses. So if you still decide to leave now, that just means you hate us.”

You laughed, “Okay, I guess I can stay a little.”

Kairi squealed, pulling you into a hug. Your heart warmed at the idea that they all wanted to spend more time with you. It was only the first time you were meeting most of them, but they still reacted like that. It made you feel wanted. You’d only been craving that all this while. From the corner of your eye, you caught Hyunijn’s reaction. He wasn’t dramatically expressive, unlike Changbin or Jisung, who wore their emotions on their sleeve. Hyunjin was watching this exchange quietly from the corner, arms across his chest, leaning against a pillar. He seemed calm, like he was okay with whatever you ended up doing, but he was gazing at you so intently it made you want to stay just so he’d look at you like that the rest of the night.

»»————-

In a matter of an hour, the strawberry tart had been cut up and shared, and remnants lay on porcelain plates decorating the coffee table. Kairi had beautiful crockery. She had a beautiful home. She had beautiful friends. Changbin was funnier than you expected — Hyunjin had never talked about his humour before, and you were glad you were discovering it on your own now. He was also touchy, he’d find excuses to touch Hyunjin and Jisung every now and then, a giggle on his face when they unwittingly pushed him away. You’d only been here a few hours, but watching their dynamic unfolding was wonderful.

After Hanbin and Seonmi had left, you’d moved over to the couch, which was much more comfortable than your earlier seat, and Hyunjin had surprisingly stayed where he was…which happened to be right next to you. He was manspreading, leaning against the couch arm, a drink in his hand. The music playing was much softer now, so it was easier to have the conversations and listen to them, and Jisung was playing the piano again quietly. Kairi animatedly explained something to him, and Chan was just listening with a smile on his face, while he stroked her back. They were so cute it made you want to die. You snuck glances at Hyunjin to your right, every now and then. He was still calm as ever, but his cheeks were red from all the drinking. His hair was messier too, and it made him look hotter than you could ever imagine. It was hard to look him in the eye, when he looked this good, so you focused on everything else. You were so engaged in another one of Changbin’s crazy stories, you didn’t realize when you reached to pull your dress down, you accidentally put your hand on Hyunjin’s thigh.

You don’t know what you were thinking. You’d severely miscalculated the distance between you. It was only for a second, but he noticed. Of course he fucking noticed. Instantly, he tensed up, pausing in the middle of his sip. You wondered if he’d push it away. If he’d tell you to stop, or ask what you were doing. Instead, he lift the drink to his mouth like nothing happened. You pulled your hand back before anybody else noticed. It was only an accident after all.

Changbin’s attention was all on you; he’d been telling you about his favorite records and artists in the music industry. He was enjoying the strawberry tart Hyunjin baked, leaving crumbs behind, and paused to ask you, “So now that you’ve been here a while, what’s your favorite place in the city?” You tilt your head, mulling over it, “I’ll have to think about that…I haven’t seen all of it yet.”

“Nobody’s seen all of it, Y/N” Jisung rolled his eyes, punctuating it with a laugh, “Even though some of us have been here our whole lives.”

That was hard for you to comprehend. You knew every inch of Daejon, every rock, every tree, each house. You’d eaten at every restaurant, shopped in every boutique, and knew everybody. “This might be a stupid question but do you never feel like exploring more of it?” You asked. Changbin shrugged, “It’s not really possible. Nobody has the time or the energy, or the money.”

“Yeah.” Hyunjin spoke, surprising you. You glanced at him, and he paused from drinking to address you, “I feel that…people here get stuck in their little convenient routines and never feel a want for more.”

Your eyes searched his, “What do you mean?”

He swirled the drink in his glass, “So many people here…get so comfortable. Not that there’s anything wrong with comfort, but when you live in a city like this…I don’t understand. They only go to the same coffee shop for fifty years, the same restaurants, not really trying anything new.”

“I hate that.” You spoke up, before he’d even finished speaking. You hated the idea of that, of an endless routine, and an unchanging life. It was one of the few things in life you were sure about. Hyunjin was looking at you and only you, as he spoke, “I know. So many people here…build their life around a few places, and those places become their life. Even though the city is so much bigger than that, and I guess I hate…the idea of settling for whatever there is.”

Changbin cleared his throat, “Well. I think I’m too drunk for this conversation.”

A tissue box lay on the end table next to Hyunjin. Turning back to the room, you asked, “Is it okay if I have the last piece of the pastry?” It was a unanimous yes, and when you bit into the tart, little crumbs fell to your thighs, and between your thighs. It was a mess so naturally, you said, “Sorry, could you pass me that, Hyunjin?”

He looked around, noticing the only thing next to him, the box of tissues. He nodded, “Yeah, of course” and reached in for a few, passing them to you. You took them from him, fingers brushing against his. Your stomach flipped at the sensation. His hand was so warm, and your fingers lingered on his a while longer — as long as you could without making it weird. Then, you simply wiped away the crumbs from your thighs, drawing Hyunjin’s brief attention to them. After all, you’d only been this messy with the pastry so you’d have an excuse to talk to him.

You wonder if he picked up on that. You hadn't been too subtle about it, being as messy as you could possibly be just so he'd have an excuse to give you the tissues. Hyunjin was so close to you, after being so out of reach. Being in the same room as him wasn’t enough, sitting on the same couch as him wasn’t enough. You wanted to touch him, be on him, and for him to be on you. You did feel kind of insane, but this was so much more than how crushes or boyfriends had ever made you feel. The desire you felt...you never even knew that was humanely possible. You were so lost in him, and his warm body sitting next to yours that you wouldn’t notice even if the room around you disappeared completely. Still, you owed something to the rest so you asked, “Um, what about you Changbin? What’s your favorite place?”

He lift his glass up, a wide grin on his face, “That’s easy. The recording studio.” Chan laughed, picking up on your conversation, “I second that answer.”

They really loved what they did. You wonder why your favorite place wasn’t automatically the painting studio. Shouldn’t it be that, seeing as to how that was your biggest purpose in life? But ever since the past few weeks, you dreaded returning to a studio. The thought made your stomach sink. If you weren’t an artist, what even were you? It sent you into a spiral, and you were dissociating from this party, just thinking about it.

“You okay?”

You could drown in the softness of that voice. A gentle touch to your shoulder, and you looked at Hyunjin as he lowered his voice, asking again, “You feel fine?”

You nodded, gripping your dress tightly, “Yeah, I was just…thinking about something.”

“Good, or bad?” He whispered, not wanting to interrupt all of the conversations in the room. You stared at him, “I don’t know. Bad.”

“Do you want to step out of here?” He asked. He was so attentive. Maybe he could be the solution for your predicament too. You shook your head, “I want to ask you something but it’s kind of…random.”

“I’m listening.” He spoke, an amused smile on his features. You swallowed, fiddling with the glass in your lap, and it was easy to filter out every noise in the room when he was next to you, “We always talked about painting together. Would you still be up for something like that? Or…are you too busy with your schedule?”

“If that’s something you want to do, we can do it together.” He replied, “I have a personal studio…you could come to my place, or…I could come to yours.”

“Maybe I should come to yours. I…wanna see your room too.” You spoke. He cracked a smile, “We can make that happen.”

In the midst of all this, you shifted, absentmindedly inching closer to Hyunjin on the couch, until your leg was completely touching his. You felt like a school girl finding excuses to touch her crush, and even just this little touch sent fireworks in your belly. He didn’t move away this time either, and that was a triumph in your book. He just sent you a comforting smile. Of course, the bubble popped, and Jisung said something, pulling your attention back to him, “You should really visit our recording studio, Y/N. I think you’d appreciate the…precision and organisation of everything.”

“How do you know that’s something I like?” You laughed. He shrugged, “I’ve only known you for a few hours, but you definitely give off that vibe.”

“Well, that’s pretty accurate, I’d say,” Kairi laughed, then looked to you, “I think you’d appreciate the way Chan organized my record collection.”

“You have a record collection?” You were surprised. She rolled her eyes, “Of course I do. I’m pretentious like that.”

“I can show you. They’re right by the TV.” Chan proposed, standing up. You didn’t want to leave Hyunjin’s side and warmth, but you didn’t want to miss out on this opportunity, so you stood up, “I’d love that.” It was in the same room, so at least you wouldn’t be too far from Hyunjin, and Chan began showing you the TV cabinet and how he’d arranged all the records in order of release and by band. He was giggling, explaining something, and you told him how much this reminded you of Yeonjun - he also had a similar collection of DVDs. Chan’s eyes lit up at that. He was surprised that people still bought DVDs, and you mentioned that he should meet Yeonjun. It was a crazy thing to suggest, but you didn’t think too much of it. Your two worlds colliding. You think they’d like each other. Thinking of it, Chan would probably like Felix, too. As he sifted through the records, you glanced back over to the couch where Hyunjin and Jisung were having an animated conversation. He seemed so happy, laughing loudly, eyes crinkling. You’d missed seeing him like that. You’d been getting used to meeting the tense version of him, and this was a welcome change. Around the people he loved, he seemed like the truest version of himself.

You wanted to catch a subtle glance at him for another split-second. But you caught so much more. He was staring at you. He was speaking to someone but his gaze kept flickering back to you, and he wasn’t even subtle about it. At least you had tried to not be so obvious, but he was blatantly checking you out. His gaze would flicker from his friends, to you, to your dress, to your legs. It made you feel dizzy, and you tried to not react.

You couldn’t still be upset at him for what happened all those weeks ago. He’d apologized, and he already said it was the hardest thing he had done. He had more than made up for it, hadn’t he? He had convinced you to stay. You’d tried so hard to move on, to force feelings for others, you’d kissed another boy, but it was impossible. Ever since he left Daejon…you’d tried to not think about him, but he was everywhere and in everything you saw. In your good moments, and in your bad. Even after he broke your heart, he was all around you.

Chan started telling you about his favorite records, and you got lost in the conversation until Kairi called him back, whining cutely from the empty armchair. So with a few top-tier record recommendations by Chan, you made your way back to the couch, and Hyunjin was still laughing over a silly joke. He shifted so you could sit, and as soon as you did, he asked you, “Find anything you liked?”

“Quite a few. I’m excited to hear them.”

And just like that, with a small smile and a nod, Hyunjin’s hand moved to your bare thigh. Your dress had ridden up as soon as you’d sat back down, and he had jumped at the opportunity with no hesitation. Your heart raced at the realisation. Anybody could see this, but he didn’t seem to care. He inched upwards, settling comfortably on your upper thigh, right where the hem of your dress ended. It sent a wave of arousal though you. Jisung began speaking again. Trying to be nonchalant was hard, when your heart was jumping up and down at this little development. A part of you was so happy he’d forgotten any and all unsaid boundaries that he had set himself months ago. Things had changed with him, and you wanted to dig into his brain to find out what led to this behaviour. What happened to not wanting you, to not taking risks, to not wanting a relationship or love?

The others didn’t seem to care that Hyunjin was touching you so openly, or that he’d completely checked out of the conversation. He was too preoccupied with touching you. His thumb drew circles on your bare skin, and it was comforting, it wasn’t meant to be sexual, but how could it also not be? You’d been starved for this, so you couldn’t help the sensations through you at his simple touch. Chan spoke to you again, “You should really come to the building. We can show you around. Eunwoo would probably be okay with it.”

You guessed that Eunwoo was their manager’s name, and you supposed that Chan was directing that to Hyunjin, but Hyunjin had completely stopped participating in this discussion, forgetting that he held a purpose to this gathering other than touching you like this. But no purpose could be greater than that, could it?

Each circle he traced sent a shiver down your spine, strokes of lightning down your thigh, between your legs. Jisung started talking about something else, and you couldn’t keep track. You were lightheaded. You were dying. Each second that Hyunjin’s thumb brushed against your thigh, you screamed a bit inside. He was so nonchalant with it, holding your leg at a party like you were his. You were his. Despite everything. His metallic rings were cold on your skin, and Hyunjin's hands slipped between your thighs. All of his friends were here, but nobody was looking at that. Hyunjin was talking to Chan, smiling occasionally, and groping your thigh at the same time. You wish he'd never stop. It was so fucking hot. Your head was spinning, and your heart felt like it might collapse from beating too fast. It couldn’t be normal for it to pound so loudly in your chest. Could everyone in this room hear you? Could they hear the insanity within you for him? Why couldn’t he should just drop this charade, take you away and fuck you right now?

A drink. You needed a drink. You interrupted the conversation, perhaps speaking far too loudly, “Han, could you please pass me the bottle of wine?”

Han nodded, reaching over with the bottle clumsily, and it was fine until it wasn’t. He was too drunk and preoccupied as he handed it to you. The wine spilled over, landing right on your lap and soaking your dress. “Fuck!” Jisung exclaimed, standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

Hyunjin pulled his hand back from your thigh, at the sudden sensation. It was like a cold shower, snapping you out of your daze. The liquid ruined your dress, and it was an expensive one, but it wasn’t Jisung’s fault. You wouldn’t blame him when it was entirely your fault. You didn’t want to disrupt the party, so you quickly stood up, “Don’t worry about it.” You glanced at Kairi, who’d vaguely registered that this had happened, “Could I use your bathroom?”

“Of course. Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes?”

“No, it should be fine. Excuse me…” You made your way out of the living room. You went up the stairwell, the music fading in the background. Your heels were muffled on the carpeted staircase, and your legs felt shaky. Jisung had informed you the bathroom was to the right. You stepped in, catching a glimpse of yourself in the reflection. Your hair was messier than it should be, but it was still fine. You hadn’t drank anything in the past few hours, but you definitely felt drunk. Opening the faucet, you splashed droplets of water onto your dress. The wine had completely spread out, staining the skirt, and your only respite was that it was red wine on a red dress. You braced yourself against the countertop, letting out a sigh, wondering if this had been a stupid idea.

A soft knock pulled you out of your despair.

“Come in.” You unlocked the door to Hyunjin standing there. He was leaning against the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets, “Hey…you okay?” His concerned gaze fell to your dress, “What’s the verdict? Will the dress survive?”

“You tell me.” You laughed, lifting it up to show him the wine stain. He grimaced, “Shit. You need help?” You didn’t. After all, what could he do that you couldn’t? But you nodded, “Yeah”

He stepped in. The bathroom was tiny. It was cute, with a marble countertop and Kairi clearly had a flair for decoration. Hyunjin pushed his sleeves up, wetting his hands in the sink and grabbed the hem of your dress, fingers rubbing at the stain. He was bent over, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated. He must be trying a new cologne. His scent was so strong, infiltrating your brain, your body, your being. It was sexy, and it was so him. It didn’t help how dizzy you felt.

“I don’t think it's going to come out.” You said truthfully, so he wouldn’t engage in a losing battle. He seemed determined though, “I’m sorry. Jisung can be…such a klutz sometimes.”

“It wasn’t his fault.” You said, as Hyunjin suggested, “There must be something in the cabinet that would help, like a wine stain remover or something.”

“I doubt it.” You laughed, leaning against the counter and Hyunjin dejectedly let go of your skirt. He was frowning, a stupid pout on his pretty face, “It’s a shame… That’s a beautiful dress.”

You smiled, accepting this loss and crossed your arms, “Don’t worry too much. It’s only temporary. I’m sure it can be fixed.”

“Maybe I can step into Kairi’s closet, and grab you another dress?” He suggested. You shook your head before he could finish, “You don’t need to do that for me.”

Yet he was about to leave, determined to get you out of this sticky situation. A surge of panic rose through you. You grabbed the front of his sweater, pulling him back in, “Wait, Hyunjin.”

He stumbled back to you, confused, “Yeah?”

Your voice fell to a lower tone, a little embarrassed at your urgency, “Don’t go just yet.”

His eyes met yours, an intense look in them, “Why?”

Your eyes closed, and you were still gripping onto his sweater, “My head is spinning.”

“You drank too much?” He realised. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was much closer than you’d anticipated, “I guess I was trying to deal with being in the same room as you.” You joked, with a dry chuckle. He seemed amused, “You really can’t stand me that much?”

You bit your lip, glancing up at him, wondering if he missed all the obvious signs tonight, “You know that’s not true.”

“And I know that your head’s not really spinning.” He said without pause. You frowned, straightening up, “How could you possibly know that?”

His lips curled up, and he could probably hear your pounding heart, “You didn’t even have a single sip tonight. I was looking at you the entire night.”

So he noticed that all you drank was water tonight, but you had to keep up appearances, “You’re accusing me of lying?”

“Maybe you’re just trying to keep me in here with you.”

Your voice dropped, “Why would I do that, Hyunjin?”

His eyes crinkled, an amused expression on his face which was so cocky that it pissed you off and turned you on at the same time. He said, “I don’t claim to know your secret agenda.”

“I don’t have an agenda.”

He shrugged, a smile playing at his lips, “Spilling wine on yourself on purpose sure makes it seem like you have one.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasped, laughing in disbelief at his accusation, “Why would I do something so stupid?”

“Because you knew I’d follow you.” He gripped the marble counter behind you, caging you between his arms. You lost your words, heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly reality was settling in. He was closer to you every second, and you could see every detail on his face - you could see yourself in his eyes, and his lips were so close to to being on yours. The situation seemed all too familiar, and you had to think straight. You couldn’t let yourself be driven by lust again, you couldn’t just be conveniently kissing him, no matter how much you wanted it, without knowing what it meant to him. You mumbled, hands reaching up to his chest, like a physical barrier between your bodies, and it took you strength to do and say so, “Hyunjin…you can’t kiss me if you’re just going to leave again.”

His voice was soft, “I think for me to leave you tonight, someone would have to kill me."

Something in you shifted, and your body was buzzing and tingly all over. He never had trouble leaving you before so you couldn't understand, “What... changed?”

He paused, as if finding the right words, “Even when you were gone…you were everywhere.”

His gaze fixated on yours, like he could see right through you, into your soul, and maybe he could this entire time. Maybe that’s why everything he spoke was thoughts you’d kept hidden, and every touch felt like coming home. When he was gone, he was everywhere too. If you ever needed more of a sign...then this was it. There were so much you could say to him in that moment, but you just settled for saying, “You were right.”

He was incapable of looking in your eyes, gaze fixated on your lips, “About what—?” And in the same second, you pulled him to you, unable to keep any of this charade up longer, fists knotted in his shirt, crushing his lips to yours.

A surprised noise left his mouth at your urgency but Hyunjin was a lover before he was anything else and so he recovered within seconds, grabbing your face to kiss you back. His grip was tight, and desperate, and you pushed him until he was against the door. His lips tasted of a strange combination of red wine and of strawberry tart, and he pressed his mouth to yours so hard it could bruise, one hand around your neck, the other gripping your jaw, and it wasn't enough. He only pulled back to breathe, and let out a breathless chuckle, “I was right about what?”

“I did drop the wine on purpose.” You admitted, wondering his reaction, but he just immediately grabbed you again, crushing your mouths together again. It was stupid but you just needed to be alone with him, and it was the only way you could think of. He laughed in between the kiss, “That’s so stupid.” He pressed you to the counter, hands tight on your waist, knocking over whatever Kairi had so perfectly curated on the countertop. Your head spun with desire, and he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. He accommodated you so easily, tilting his head to kiss you better, falling back into this rhythm like it was natural to your body. You let go of his shirt, leaving it crinkled, so you could tug at his hair. His hands were everywhere. Around your neck, in your hair, at your waist. He groaned, pulling away for a second to mumble, “I missed you so much. You could have just asked me... And I thought I did stupid things to get your attention.”

“I missed you too.” You breathed, hands resting at the nape of his neck, sifting through his hair as you looked up at him, doe eyes, and since he wanted you to ask him, you would, “Please kiss me again.”

He didn’t hesitate, pressing his lips to yours and grinning into the kiss. Your hands dropped to the waistband of his jeans, and you tugged at them, trying to unbutton it. He must have sensed your urgency, a whine mixed in between your pecks, so he grabbed your thighs, lifting you onto the marble countertop. He didn’t stop kissing you for a second, fingers skimming your skin, sending a rush through your body, and his tongue slipped into your mouth again, and you wish you could swallow each other whole.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, so reminiscent of the first time you’d kissed him. It had been on a night like tonight, and the longing had built up so much it was pouring out of you. All of this pining certainly couldn’t be good for the two of you by the roughness of your touches, like you were both afraid to be pulled away from each other. You tugged at his sweater, pushing it up to his chest, so you could touch his skin. Your hands were cold, and he shivered at the touch, but he didn’t stop you, kissing your jaw at the same time you felt him up. Your head tilted to the ceiling as he trailed kisses down your neck, you let your hands explore his body, feeling the muscles in his abdomen and tightening your hold on him. He was so compliant. He was so desperate. You felt him undo your bow, unzipping the dress. A fire burned within you, and his name was a familiar moan on your lips, “Hyun…”

“Yes, baby?” His voice was hoarse, and his mouth and his face was covered in your red lipstick. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. A giggle escaped you, and you brushed your thumb against his lips, “You have some of me on you.”

He shook his head, unbothered, leaning in to kiss you again, “I have all of you in me.”

It meant something deeper than red lipstick. It meant so much that you could probably wonder about it for days, but you just grabbed his face in your hands, cupping his soft cheeks. All of him was in you too. He was a part of who you were, and you couldn’t recall a time before Hyunjin in your life. He kissed your cheek, trailing kisses down your neck. It was hard to think straight when his mouth was sucking on you, and the bulge in his pants was pressing against you. You're sure Kairi kept a condom in here somewhere. You would let him fuck you. Right here. Right now. But a familiar worry festered within you, and it was physically impossible to pull back from the kiss as you whispered, “Wait.. you’re sure about doing this?”

He opened his eyes to look at you, and he looked so lovesick, eyes-half lidded, breathing heavy, hair messy and your spit and lipstick coating his lips, “About what?”

You touched his face, tracing your fingers over his cheeks and his pretty mouth, tracing it all to memory again after it had been ripped away from you for all this time. Perhaps you were ruining the passion of the moment, but you couldn’t let yourself go through that heartbreak again, “I don't want you to regret this. You said you didn’t want to start something that could put you…or the band at risk. So are you sure about…what we’re doing?”

It seemed to be Hyunjin’s biggest fear — a relationship, falling in love, somebody finding out about you. His company. His managers. His fans. The press. The rest of the world.

“I was sure the minute I asked you to stay, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing you again, “You’re…everything to me.”

The confession seemed drastic from the Hyunjin who had pushed you away countless times, from the Hyunjin who kissed you only to tell you he could never want a relationship. Yet you still didn’t know what he actually wanted. Would he wake up and regret this? He kissed the corner of your mouth, like he couldn’t get enough of you, squeezing you in his grip, and said, “I’ve been doomed for you ever since I saw you. Nothing changed. I just…decided to stop fighting it.”

His words implied a sense of… inevitability and fate. You were doomed for him too. No matter what pulled you apart, something pushed you together always. It felt like an endless cycle…a trajectory you two were on that neither of you could control. Your eyes widened, and you'd never been this happy, “You’re…not just saying this because you’re drunk?”

He smiled at your words, cupping your face, “I’m not drunk, Y/N. If you really want to know what changed…the past month, I’ve just been feeling so fucking stupid. Seeing you with somebody else. I think I wanted to die when I saw you kiss Nate…and not being able to talk to you about everything, god, for the past few months, I couldn’t get you out of my head and I would have so much to say and no one to say it to…and then on the other hand, I see Chan the happiest he’s ever been, and I feel…so fucking stupid.”

His eyes seemed so sincere, so genuine and you whispered, “So…what are we doing to do now?”

“I guess... now we have to go back downstairs, because our friends are waiting for us…and you’re still soaked in wine.” His thumb brushed against your lower lip, and he pulled you closer, like he didn't want to let you go.

“Right…” You trailed off, tightening your grip on him, “That’s probably what we should do.”

“Yeah. That’s the right thing to do.” He mumbled, but he was already eating up his own words, swallowing your breath, and pressing you to the mirror. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer in a starved, hungry kiss and it didn’t feel humanely possible to be closer than this. He let out a moan, pressing kisses to your lips, “Fuck, I missed you so fucking much.”

You nodded, matching his every frenzied kiss, “Me too. I want you so bad.”

This rush. It seemed to always consume you, and Hyunjin squeezed your tits through your dress, pushing the skirt up and you were both losing control again. He pulled back, restraining himself, “I…we shouldn’t do this here.”

He said that, but he still kept kissing you, and this was a vicious cycle you would always find yourself in. You had wanted him for so long that you didn’t care where you were, but surely…this wasn’t the place. Your first time being that intimate with him shouldn’t be on top of a marble bathroom countertop, with so much opportunity to be interrupted by your friends. You’d just be setting yourself up for failure if you continued. You pulled back from the kiss too, “I think somebody needs to physically separate us for that to work.”

He laughed, and his voice was hoarse from all the kissing, and his lips were swollen. You were capable of waiting a while, instead of jumping each others bones right now. You were both adults, and you could restrain yourself. It was hard to take him seriously with imprints of your lipstick on his mouth. It made him look romantic. It made him look like yours. You wish you covered all of him in it, lip prints over his whole body, leaving no spot un-kissed. You’d missed him so much, it just felt dumb to stop now, but you did. He breathed in, calming himself, “You’re right. We…don’t have to rush.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “I want to rush though.”

He laughed, fingers caressing your jaw so softly, “I just…I have to ask you something, before we go back downstairs—”

“Yes?”

“I know that I’ve acted stupidly about this in the past, but when I told you all those things, when I said that it’s a risk, that’s still true, Y/N. It’s still dangerous. You don’t know how wild it can get, if…anybody finds out about you. People are just looking for an opportunity to hurt us, me, the other guys, and…if you’re around me, then that includes you too. I can’t let anything happen to you, or hurt you. I would never forgive myself.” Hearing him talk made you afraid again. This was where it had always ended. This would be the last thing Hyunjin would always say to you, after kissing you. It always ended here, like a dead-end to your perfect dream, and you dreaded his next words, heart pounding like you'd pass out. You expected it.

But instead he said, “I want you. So much. I know that now, that nothing can replace the feeling of you.”

Your eyes were wide, and this was already a different direction than it. had ever gone last time, “What are you saying, Hyunjin?”

“I’m saying that…if we…really do this, there’s going to be a lot of…discretion. It’s probably going to be difficult and frustrating as fuck, and we’re both going to have to be really careful. Is that… really okay with you?”

You understood what Hyunjin was asking you. If you and him were to be together, it could only be a thing of secrecy.

It wouldn’t be a relationship you dreamed of. Nothing about it would be normal, or usual. It would only exist behind closed doors, and in storage closets, and in the privacy of your bedrooms. If you and him were to continue this…it would always have to stay a secret.

It would be hard to restrain your love for him, but in all honesty… you had done nothing else since you were fifteen and saw him in the art shop. You had loved him since then, and you could love him in any circumstance, even if it was in secret. Going back to not having him in your life was impossible. You leaned in to kiss him, to remind yourself of how real this was, and how much he was worth to you. An excitement bloomed in your chest from what was to come as you whispered against his lips, “I guess it’s a good thing then that I’m good at keeping secrets.”

»»————-

masterlist ⇒

please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :)

#hyunjin x reader #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #skz x reader #fluff #hwang hyunjin x reader #fanfiction #skz imagines #star lost with you

508 notes · View notes

mercurygguk · 8 months

Text

head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were.

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless.

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends.

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed.

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

1K notes · View notes

ohmytyong · 8 months

Text

mark me in your heart

PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader (female!reader)

GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au, open-ended narrative

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit description of drug use (don't do drugs kids), use of pet names, trust issues, explicit language, mentions of food, smoking, emotionally unavailable characters, both mark and y/n are kind of assholes, explicit sexual content, angry make-up sex, rough-ish sex, unprotected sex (!always use protection!), heavy make out, choking, lip biting, nipple play, pussy slapping, spitting, oral (both m and f receiving), degradation, praise, spanking, crying, hair pulling, incredibly cringey dirty talking, aftercare (?), not proofread (let me know if i missed any!)

WC: 13k (12,975)

‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you’re high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic

SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren’t strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.

A/N: it's finally here! it took me too long to finish this one but here it is! i know it might seem a bit fast paced or vague in certain parts, but remember this is all about the vibes and i deeply hope that you will enjoy it and give it some love because it definitely needs it <3

read on wattpad / ao3

“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.

Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.

It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.

Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn’t keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.

Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.

This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.

Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.

You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.

“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.

“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.

Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.

Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.

Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.

You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.

Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.

“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.

The sky was painted in a deep hue of light blue, the moon and the stars still visible in the early morning sky, the sun barely seen in the horizon. You huffed in a sharp breath and put both your hands inside the pockets of your jeans as a reaction to the crispy air of the early morning, as you leaned your back on the damp wall behind you. Mark followed right after you and did the same. He shuffled into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a clear plastic bag full of crack, two crack pipes and a lighter. With almost automatic motions, he filled the pipes with crack and lit them up. He handed you one of them and kept one for himself.

You looked at the crack pipe as if it were an oasis in the middle of an infinite desert and you were so thirsty that your dried up mouth and throat were already relieved just by the sight of it. It only took you one second to react to the visual stimuli in front of you, quickly removing your right hand from your pocket and pulling the pipe straight from Mark’s hand. You brought the pipe to your lips, closed your eyes and took a long, slow drag. This was exactly what you needed.

You immediately felt your body relax and your mind clearing up. The moment you took the drag in, all your worries and problems completely vanished, even if it were only temporary. It was your brief sweet escape from the huge bitter world you were forced to live in.

A chilly breeze flew and you lifted your shoulders at the shivering sensation. Mark noticed immediately and he pulled you closer to him, removed one of the sleeves of his jacket and draped it over your shoulder, slinging his arm over it too.

"So," Mark spoke up, breaking the easing silence, "how was work today?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "Eh, like usual. Bunch of random people came in to drink their problems away and give us their money in exchange for adulterated alcohol. But Renjun had to drag some of them out of the bar, he literally grabbed them by their collar and feet and dragged them out of the store, you should have seen it. It was way too funny" you said and chuckled at the memory of the incident that happened a couple hours ago.

Mark giggled at your statement. "Damn," he dragged out the word, "too bad I missed that" he said and brought the crack pipe to his lips and squinted his eyes in pleasure and relief when he inhaled the poisonous content.

The next few minutes remained silent. There was only the sound of cars passing by being heard in the distance, it was probably people going to their early shifts at work. Normal types of work. Unlike the one you had, unlike the fate you brought upon yourself. That’s when the realization of your situation hit you like a truck. How could your family cut you off so easily when they found out that your dreams were different from what they were expecting of you? Were you just a tool for them? Another burden to take care of?

"You seem unhappy" Mark broke the silence. He was looking straight ahead in the distance, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular, probably because he was a bit too high to notice anything.

"Because I am" you responded to his comment, turning your head to look at him, searching for a sense of home into his soulless eyes.

Mark smirked and turned his attention to his heels. "You know, I wanna help. Right? You know that" he said with a raspy voice due to his sleeplessness. "But I don't think that feeding you drugs is any help" he now turned his head to look you in the eyes.

You pressed your lips into a thin line before you spoke. "I ask for the drugs Mark, you're not feeding me anything. It's my only escape, what else am I supposed to do?"

"I love you, Y/n" Mark said.

You winced at his confession and turned your head to avoid his gaze and fixating yours on the wide sky ahead of you.

"You're high, Mark. Cut the crap" you said in a bitter tone.

"Do you think I'm lying? I mean it, Y/n. I fucking love you, for whatever reason I do. And I care about you, so come with me and let's get out of this shitty town. I’m running out of time too, they’ll soon find where I live" Mark defended himself.

You turned again to meet his eyes. "And go where, Mark? Where the fuck should we go, huh? I don't have anything else to do other than this shitty job. I only keep it because I need the money to survive and it's the only way to keep myself sane. The people I used to call family kicked me out of my house and this was the easiest solution I could come up with before I would collapse entirely and before it would become too difficult to get back on my own feet. So what else is left for me to do?" you were clearly getting angrier now, but not at Mark. At yourself.

Mark's eyes darkened in sadness. "That's what I'm saying! You deserve better than this! Look, we have enough money. I do deals, but I know this is a job I can't have forever. I told you, I’m on thin ice. If I’m seen doing deals again, I’ll go to jail. You know I play the guitar, right? I can join a band or something. I know a friend downtown, he might be of help" he said.

"And you," he continued, "you're a great bartender. You could make a career out of it" he said.

You shut your eyelids and shook your head in denial. "It won't work out. I'm a mess, you're a mess. We can't make this work. It's impossible" you said, turning your head away.

Mark sat up straight and put his hand below your chin to turn your attention towards him. "Look at me, Y/n. We can make it work. Believe me. Trust me. I can't leave you living like this. And I certainly can't live a life like this myself. You're the only person I can make a change with. I need you" he said.

You gulped and stared right into his eyes, unable to form a response. "So you just need me as a means to get you out of town and help you start your magical new life. No thanks, Mark, I'll pass" you said and shoved his hand away to release his grip on you.

Mark became frustrated and moved to stand right in front of you. The half of his jacket that was wrapped around your shoulders dropped and it hung behind his back.

"Okay, look Y/n, you're tired and you're high. We'll have this conversation again in the morning" Mark said defeated.

Your energy was running low despite the boost of energy you had just inhaled, so you let yourself loose. "Let's get you back to your room. You need some rest. Come on, I'll drop you off" Mark suggested and you gave in to him completely.

You took a step towards him and stumbled a bit. Mark, with his rapid reflexes, caught you firmly by the forearm and guided you to his car. The last thing you remembered was the faint sound of the car door closing, before you were engulfed into pretty sleep.

The next day you woke up to the sound of light guitar strumming from across the dim lit motel room. It was already past noon; the curtains were still drawn closed but the midday sun rays found their way in between the curtain folds and peaked through the dirty motel room windows to light up the inside of the place.

Mark was sitting on a wooden chair across the bed with a concentrated look on his face. With his jaw clenched and his cheekbones popping, he strum his fingers through the guitar strings, playing random chords in an attempt to create a melody he liked.

You shuffled between the bedsheets and stretched your body all over the old bed. A squeaky sound echoed in the room due to your sudden movement, which caught Mark’s attention. His strumming stopped abruptly and his head jolted up in surprise, his eyes opened wide and his lips dropped to a pout.

“Did I wake you up? Shit, I’m sorry” he whispered, trying to be as quiet as possible.

You rubbed your eyes to clear your vision and looked at him. “No, you didn’t. I like what you’re playing. Sounds pretty” you reassured him. “Good morning, Mark”

His previously guilty expression was taken over by a wide grin appearing on his face, which turned into a bright smile. “Good morning, pretty,” he said.

You smiled at him and he went back on strumming random chords on his guitar. His eyebrows scrunched in concentration and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of his messy hair and wrinkly t-shirt due to the, apparently, good quality sleep he just had. Your obsessive thoughts took over once again and didn’t let you enjoy this glimpse of happiness in the abyss of misery you were engulfed in. Your lips gradually dropped to a frown and your vision became blurry again.

Mark wasn’t perfect, but neither were you. He came into your life at the perfect moment, when you needed him the most. It was your first day at the bar, your first time as a bartender. Renjun had been training you all day, teaching you the basic parts of the job and giving you tips on how to handle weird or creepy customers. You were completely drained out that day, so your co-worker and soon-to-be best friend had promised you a pleasant surprise by the end of your shift.

Renjun’s definition of a “pleasant surprise” was slightly different from yours. That night, Mark walked into the empty bar with steps full of confidence. You didn’t know him back then, but from the very first second you saw his figure enter your life, there was only one word that kept circulating your mind; trouble.

Mark was trouble. With his sharp gaze and well-defined features, captivating aura and assertive moves, it was more than obvious that this guy would mean nothing but trouble to you. For some inexplicable reason, this was exactly why you were instantly attracted to him.

Mark came in carrying all the usual stuff Renjun wanted and gave them over to him without talking much. The two guys seemed to share a lot of past memories together, and you were right. Renjun had filled you in later that night on his relationship with Mark and how they helped each other stand back up on their own feet after they were forced to leave home. A story very familiar to you.

Mark came by the bar every single night. He didn’t give Renjun drugs every time, but he sure enjoyed both your and Renjun’s company. It’s not as if he had anywhere else to go.

That’s how you grew quite fond of him very easily. You found yourself looking forward to the end of your shift just so you could see him. He once offered you drugs but immediately took back his offer when he saw your shocked expression. You were at the lowest point in your life and doing drugs wouldn’t be the wisest habit to take up, even though this was, at the same time, the exact reason why you should do drugs. Eventually, reality hit you and you caved in, waiting for Mark to come at the end of your shift for one more reason other than just seeing him. He was reluctant at first. Mark didn’t want to drag you into this lifestyle, so you annoyed him and begged for it until he finally gave you the lethal medicine.

You and Mark were surprisingly very similar. Maybe that’s why you bonded so fast with each other. And maybe that’s exactly why you were equally bad for each other. You could see so much of yourself in him, just at a more put-together version. Sure, he was a drug dealer, which was certainly not a better job than yours, but he at least seemed to have a purpose in his life. Unlike you.

As time passed, you started spending more and more time with him. You would smoke crack, get high, talk endlessly until your mouths dried up, go back to your motel room, have sex with each other, and repeat. You found comfort in his presence and became attached to him without even noticing.

But you didn’t love him. No, you couldn’t call this love. Rather, you were depending on him, no matter how much you hated that. He acted as an emotional support beacon to you, you enjoyed his company and, if you were honest, you genuinely liked him. But it was hard for you to admit to any deeper feelings, so you repeatedly tried to convince yourself that you didn’t love him, so that it wouldn’t hurt as much if he ever decided to switch on you. You hoped it wouldn’t turn out like that.

You lightly shook your head to get rid of all these thoughts and got out of bed to wash up a bit. “I’m starving, I’ll go down to the diner to grab some breakfast, do you want anything?” you asked Mark as you were heading towards the humid bathroom.

“Let’s go eat there. Together” Mark suggested and you stopped at your steps.

He always avoided going out in places that were too public because he was at risk of being outed as a dealer. Especially now that he was caught selling drugs once and the guy who saw him threatened to report Mark to the police.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re on thin ice, you said that yourself” you raised the tone of your voice and walked towards him.

Mark put down his guitar to focus on you. “You worry too much Y/n, like, what are the odds? We’re in the middle of nowhere, I doubt anyone knows this place apart from us and the customers of your bar. I think we’ll be fine,” he cleared his throat, “I mean, I’ll be fine. Relax, I wanna spend some time with you.”

You decided against protesting and trusted Mark’s certainty of his words. Besides, he was right. The diner was out of town, it wasn’t very popular among people who weren’t familiar with the bar. Most customers at the diner were either drunk people from the bar or passersby. So you simply just nodded and whispered a soft “okay” before you went inside the bathroom, the door emitting a creaking sound as you closed it shut behind you.

The screeching sound of the fork scratching the surface of the porcelain plate turned your facial expression into a wince, which went completely unnoticed by Mark whose attention was entirely devoted to the pancakes in front of him.

The old diner was relatively empty despite it being lunch time. Other than you and Mark, there was only a group of friends and a guy sitting on a barstool. You were actually very satisfied with the quietness of the place, which was only disrupted by sounds of forks scraping plates and glasses thudding on the tables.

The diner was situated right down the same road your motel was at, so anytime your stomach growled in annoyance you would stop by and fulfill its needs. You were practically a regular customer now and probably the one who kept the place from going bankrupt. It was old, cheap and dirty; the perfect place for you.

Mark gulped down the last bite of his pancakes and thirstily drank the entire glass of water. He then set the glass down and leaned back on the booth, fixating his gaze on you.

You noticed his eager eyes on you and you set down your fork, mimicking his stance and staring right back at him, waiting for him to speak.

"That was a pretty good meal" Mark sighed and you smiled a bit. This wasn't what he wanted to say.

Since Mark seemed to be unwilling to speak his mind, you decided to take matters into your own hands instead.

"Why did you want to have lunch with me?" you asked him with your voice calm and your eyes searching for an answer in his.

Mark crossed his arms and scrunched up his nose before he answered your question. "’Cause I wanted to spend time with you. Actual time. You know, like normal people?" he said.

You rolled your eyes at his response and mimicked his body language once again, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't buy it, Mark" you said.

Mark sat up straight and leaned closer to the table, resting his elbows on top of it. "Why are you always like this, Y/n? Whenever I tell you something, you never believe me! What's up with you?" Mark's frustration started building up in his attempt to defend himself.

"It's not that I don't believe you-"

"It's that you don't trust me" Mark interrupted you and you stood there with your mouth still open. You didn't know what to say.

Mark's gaze was piercing, his sharp eyes were darker than usual and his lips quivered at the blank stare you were giving him. "You don't trust me," he concluded.

The truth is that you weren't sure if you trusted him or not. You wanted to trust him and he had proved to you numerous times that he was someone who cared and didn't lie. Yet sometimes, you were afraid that if you trusted him too much, he would end up hurting you. So every time he said something you weren't expecting him to say, you immediately assumed that he was lying.

"Mark, listen to me," you started to say and Mark sat back against the booth, rolling his eyes. "I-I do trust you, it's just that-"

"What? You think I don't mean what I say? If I didn't meant what I fucking said then I wouldn't fucking say it! When I say I care about you, Y/n, I fucking mean it. When I say I fucking love y-"

"Don't get mad" you were the one that interrupted him now. Mark was clearly way too frustrated by you now, his voice was getting gradually louder, his eyes were full of fire and his nostrils were fuming.

At the sudden raise of Mark’s voice, the guy who was sitting at the barstool turned to look at your booth with a brief glance and then returned back to eating his food.

"Mark, just let it go, please" your voice came out almost like a whisper. You hated when Mark became angry at you and you hated it even more when he did it in public, even though it was practically just you and him in that diner.

Mark's jaw visibly relaxed and he lowered his eyes to his lap, nodding to himself. He lifted his head to look back at you with pleading eyes, much in contrast with his previous fiery gaze.

"Then why don't you come with me? Out of this fucking town? You deserve to live a better life than this. We deserve it. Look, I know I don't have an exact plan on how we'll do it, but I know that we can figure it out together. Please, Y/n" he said, taking your hand in his from across the table, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You lowered your eyes at the spot your hands were joined together. Did you really love Mark? No, actually, did you really trust him enough to depend your entire life on him?

You couldn't give him an answer at that moment. Not a yes, not a no. Not even I don't know. Forget that, it would complicate things even more.

Mark noticed that you weren't going to give him an answer to his question soon, so he let go of your hand and started putting on his jacket. He reached into the inside pocket and took out some cash. He slammed it on the table and got up from the booth ready to leave.

"I have to go to work now, alright? I've arranged some deals. I'll come back later at the bar tonight. If you ever decide what you want to do with me, you know where to find me" he said and without even turning to look at him, you heard the sound of his footsteps grow fainter as he walked out the diner.

The bar was relatively full tonight. From behind the counter, you could spot only two empty tables. That was the fullest the bar has been in the last month. At the far back of the bar, you spotted Renjun already counting the tips he had earned and it was still midnight.

All the customers were busy chatting and enjoying their drinks. You found yourself craving some alcohol too, the need for an intoxicant substance was growing stronger and stronger, so you decided to mix just a little bit of something to treat yourself.

As you were filling in your glass, Renjun walked behind the counter and leaned close to your ear to speak, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hear him through the loud chatting of the customers. “Man, I think we are in heaven, I lost count of my tips and I’m not even high yet” he said and you giggled at him.

He noticed the bottle of vodka you were holding and nudged you on your forearm. “Hey, pour me some of that too” he asked and your response was to grab a glass from the shelf behind the counter and fill it with the toxic liquid.

You had barely stopped filling in the glass when Renjun grabbed it and downed the liquid in an instant. He placed the glass on top of the counter with a thud and licked his lips, savoring the bitter taste. “What’s up with you and Mark?” Renjun asked you. You contemplated whether you should answer him or pretend you didn’t hear him just to buy you some time. A good couple of seconds passed so you just caved in and answered him.

“I don’t know. Go and ask him.” you said in a tone filled with nonchalance, sipping on your drink.

Renjun rested his elbows on the counter, his eyes scanning the place around him. “He said the exact same fucking thing when I asked him about you. You can’t be running in a vicious circle all the time. Just fuck it out, you’re both acting like little kids” he said and you sighed at his scolding tone.

Renjun wasn’t just your co-worker, he had also grown to become your best friend, a person you could talk to freely without fear of judgment because he always understood your intentions. Engulfed in your misery and loneliness, he was the person who helped you get back on your feet and have hope that things will somehow get slightly better. That sounds like something a friend would do.

You brought the glass to your lips to drink the last sip of vodka that was still inside, leaving it empty waiting to be filled with more of that toxic liquid. “You wanna know what, Renjun? Even though I hate the life I’ve made for myself, I enjoy having Mark in it. But I can’t do what he asks me to do. I can’t depend my entire life on him. I can count on him for some of it, yes, but starting anew with him? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m not the kind of person you want to start a life with. I will fuck everything up. And he shouldn’t count on me as much as he does. It’s for the better. For both of us.”

Renjun kept staring at you, waiting for your little rant to be over so that he could take his turn to speak. He gulped and looked at your burnt out figure. Your eyeballs were turning a bit crimson due to the line of cocaine you snorted earlier, even though you promised you’d wait until Mark came later, and the lack of sleep provided you with dark hues under your eyes and skin as pale as the moon.

“Look, Y/n,” Renjun started and came a bit closer to you so that he wouldn’t have to strain his vocal chords in order to be heard, “I see your point. And I understand exactly what you mean because I felt the same way when I came here. But in my case, I had nobody to lean on. I became an addict, left home and the rest of the story is familiar to you. But you and Mark have each other and, trust me, your future is looking way brighter than mine.”

You looked into his eyes searching for honesty. Renjun has always been honest with you and you never doubted any of his words. He really cared about you. Mark too, as it seemed. And he was right. Living in a cheap motel, starving and working long hours to barely make ends meet, depending on drugs and more specifically on an exceptionally lovely drug dealer wasn’t the life you imagined to have. But fate had different plans for you and now you ended up here, whatever this here is supposed to be.

Mark didn’t seem to be ill-intentioned. From the very first moment you met him, he was protective and caring, he had always treated you nice. He spoke to you softly and touched you in a just as smooth way. But the life he was living wasn’t that much better than yours; in fact, you could say it was even worse. He depended on you as much as you depended on him.

You didn’t know what was the thing that made you keep a sort of distance from him. Emotional distance. Part of it might be because you weren’t available to be fully devoted to him, because of fear that one day he would leave you, just like everyone else did. Part of it might be because the two of you weren’t so different and two broken souls mending together doesn’t necessarily make a fully healed one.

“I’ll talk to him when I’m ready. I could do it later but I’m afraid I’ll be too high to think rationally. Or maybe this will give me more insight, I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it. Do you think clearer when you’re high?” you asked Renjun but he was preoccupied, looking at the screen of his phone which radiated such brightness his eyes squinted as a reflex.

Scanning his features more carefully, you realized that the reason for his scrunched expression wasn’t lying solely on the brightness of the screen. You took half a step closer to him and Renjun tilted his phone away from you, hiding the screen from your eyesight.

“What’s wrong, Renjun?” you asked with worry lacing the tone of your voice. Renjun shook his head and put his phone away in his back pocket. “Mark won’t be coming by later. Something came up, I’m afraid we’re in trouble too. Listen, can you handle the bar for a couple hours by yourself? Mark needs some help” Renjun said, searching for his jacket underneath the counter.

Your eyes widened at Renjun’s words and you felt your heartbeat racing and your fingertips trembling. “Is Mark okay? Tell me, is he okay?” your rising voice quivered, betraying the nervousness you felt.

Renjun squeezed your shoulder and pressed his lips together in an attempt of a reassuring smile. “Yes, he is alright. He’s fine. He just needs some help with the cops. If you see anyone suspicious showing up, flash the stashes down the toilet, we don’t want them finding anything. I’ll be back soon.”

With swift movements, Renjun turned his heel to walk out the bar in a hurry, muttering something under his breath that, due to your shocked and nervous state, you failed to hear, “How am I gonna save your ass this time, Mark?”

As soon as you heard the bell on top of the bar’s front door tinkle, you knew that Renjun was already outside and you were left alone in the bar. You were left standing frozen behind the counter, staring into nothingness. Your vision became blurry due to the tears that threatened to spill from the corners of your eyes, your hands curled into fists and your nails were digging deep into your palms, cold sweat forming at the sides of your forehead.

You were terrified. Mark was already caught selling drugs very recently, so your mind went to the worst case scenario which made you extremely terrified; that Mark was caught selling drugs by the police.

You dreaded this moment at the exact same time your eyes met Mark’s sharp ones. You knew that, once you became thick as thieves with a drug dealer, you would be in for a lot of trouble.

But you also knew how careful Mark was and this gave you hope that, whatever the case is right now, he would find a way to get himself out of there. Mark was a smart guy. You wanted to trust him, you wanted to believe that he would be smart enough not to get himself in trouble.

Yet something didn’t add up. Mark has been doing these types of deals for a long time now, he knew all the tricks of the job and he knew very well how to protect himself. So it sounded almost impossible that he would do something so reckless and irresponsible to get him caught.

There was only one possible and logical answer to all of your questions. That somebody ratted him out.

Your train of thought was disrupted by the husky voice of a man. “Excuse me, miss, would you mind pouring me a drink?”

Your head snapped at the sudden sound of a voice other than the one inside your head. Your eyes met with a man sitting on a barstool at the other side of the counter, looking at you with wary eyes. Your gaze was roaming all over his figure when your eyes halted for a second as soon as they spotted something shiny at the right side of the man’s chest; a badge.

You cleared your throat to cover up the anxiety and fear that started to appear in your voice. “Officer! What can I get you?” you greeted him with bright eyes and a cheerful voice that masked your intense heartbeat and the trembling state of your hands behind the counter.

“Actually, I don’t want a drink,” he started and moved his hand inside his jacket to pull out a file with pictures and papers, “but I do want you to help me with something. Have you ever seen this guy?” he asked you, placing the file on the counter and turning it to your side.

You gulped at the sight in the front of you and your eyes quivered from side to side. A mugshot of the face you grew to almost love was staring back at you. Sharp gaze and popping cheekbones, defined jawline and dark eyes were presented in front of you and you knew more than well enough who the person in the picture was.

Your heart sank at the sight of Mark’s mugshot and you knew what you had to do. You drew in your eyebrows together and lifted the picture with your hand in order to bring it closer to your eyes and examine it better. “I don’t think I recognize this man, officer” you said.

You set the picture down on top of the counter and looked at the police officer, not trying to avoid eye contact. You wanted to seem as less guilty as possible.

The police officer took the picture and put it back inside the file. “Really? That’s a shame. But I’ve been informed that you do know this guy because you were seen with him this morning.”

You froze immediately. Your brain tried to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, you tried to digest and connect everything the cop just said in order to form your answer.

“Are you sure about this, officer? A lot of other girls look like me, maybe it was a mistake?” you asked with a rising intonation in an attempt to defend yourself by adding another lie to your previous one.

You tried to remember where you could be possibly seen with Mark, especially during the day. You always met with him at night and you avoided seeing each other in the morning. There was no way anyone saw you with Mark.

The moment you had this thought, the answer to your question suddenly popped up in your head as if a lit up light bulb. That morning, you and Mark had breakfast down at the diner. And you specifically remember that suspicious guy who kept staring at the two of you.

That’s when you knew you had to do something drastic to get you out of this situation, and you had to do it relatively fast.

The police officer didn’t seem to buy the lie you had just uttered and continued to pressure you more. “Is this where you keep all the drinks? Can I take a look inside your storage room?”

The rhythm of your heartbeat kept increasing more and more by each word the police officer said and you were running out of lies and excuses.

“Sure, it’s this way officer” you said with a nonchalant tone, gesturing towards the door behind the counter.

The cop stood up and turned his heel to walk behind the counter and towards the storage room door. Your trembling hands had barely managed to hide the stashes you kept behind the cash register under your oversized shirt, and you followed the cop inside the storage room with uncertain steps.

The police officer could not find the rest of the stashes. It shouldn’t happen, and you had to act smart in order to prevent it. “Can I help you with something, officer? We can’t stay in here for too long, my co-worker finished early and we’re not allowed to leave the bar without having anyone to tend to the customers” you said in an attempt to speed up the process and get rid of him before he could find anything that could put you in jail.

“You can go back to your work, miss. This is my job here, you can go and do yours” the cop said as he had already taken a bottle of vodka in his hand to examine it for anything suspicious.

“Okay, I just wanted to help. Call me if you need anything,” your answer was convincing enough for him, but it wasn’t good enough for you to buy you more time.

You left the storage room and stood right outside the door, leaving it so open as to let you peek through it so that you were able to see what the police officer was doing.

With your still trembling fingers, you took out your phone from your pocket and dialed Renjun’s number with quick movements. Without taking your eyes away from the cop, you kept tapping your foot waiting for Renjun to pick up his phone.

The constant beeping sound in your ear signaled that Renjun wasn’t going to respond soon, so you put your phone back in your pocket and tried to think of what to do.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” you muttered under your breath, running your fingers through your hair. Your eyes were wavering from the police officer to the customers in the bar and then back to the police officer. You had to do something to get everyone out of there.

Your eyes followed the cop’s figure and certainly didn’t like what you were seeing. The cop squatted down so that he could reach the boxes under the shelves and stretched his arm to pull out one of them.

“No, no, no, fuck” you whispered. Those are the boxes in which you hid the drugs.

You turned your head to look at the inside of the bar. It was fully packed. There was not any chair or barstool that was empty and, just at that moment, the door opened to reveal a group of friends who wanted to get drunk and have fun just like the rest of the people inside the bar.

The only person who wasn’t having any fun right now was you. And obviously Mark and Renjun as well, who you had no idea about their whereabouts or their well-being. On any random night, all these people in the bar would equal a pretty satisfactory amount of tips that would make your life slightly easier to get by. However, you could definitely not say that for this particular night, when your main priority was your and your friends’ safety.

Shifting your gaze from the customers to the police officer and back to your phone for any missed calls or unread messages from either Renjun or Mark, you were completely on your own on this one. Cold sweat engulfed your entire body as the seconds passed and the cop was one step closer to finding the thing that could turn your entire life upside down.

You swallowed thickly and looked at your phone one last time. No sign of anybody.

“Okay, I got this” you muttered to yourself and walked behind the counter where you usually stood. A middle-aged woman was sitting on one of the barstools, smoking and sipping lightly from the cocktail you mixed for her earlier. You picked up the first bottle of alcohol you saw on the counter - you didn’t have the time to care what it was - and walked towards her.

“Excuse me, miss, would you like a refill?” you asked politely to gain her attention. Before she even opened her mouth to speak, your actions were faster than her words. You quickly snatched the cigarette from her hand and put it out on the counter, immediately pouring some alcohol right on that spot.

Soon enough, flames started building up and the counter caught on fire. The smell of smoke became suffocating and it was hard to breathe in such a small space full of people. Your plan worked.

Muttering a string of “sorrys” to the woman, you turned around to pull the fire alarm. Every customer turned their heads to the direction of the piercing sound full of worry. “Everyone must get out, the building is on fire!” you yelled as loudly as you could, motioning everyone out the door.

Very quickly, you managed to evacuate the building by leading all the panicked customers outside the bat through the front door. In the midst of all this chaos, you noticed with the corner of your eye the police officer you rushed out of the storage room without looking any scared at all.

You ushered the last customers outside as the fire grew bigger, eventually leaving you and the cop as the only ones inside the flaming place. As he passed by you to get out the bar, he leaned closer to your face and whispered. "That was smart, young lady," he said and walked outside towards his car.

So he knew, you thought. He knew all along about the drug deals happening in this place and mainly the drug possession. He almost tricked you into thinking you tricked him. How amateurish of you.

You walked out the bar and shut the door behind you, watching the police officer drive away. A sigh of temporary relief escaped your lips and you pulled out your phone to dial a phone number you weren't particularly happy to call. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard the dreadful voice on the other line. "Hey boss, um, is it easy for you to come down to the bar? We kinda have a small problem" you said with a rapidly beating heart.

The time was already 3:16. You were pacing around your motel room, patiently waiting for any news about Mark. You had already called and texted him multiple times, but all of your efforts to reach him went in vain.

A few minutes after you called your boss, she arrived at the bar, totally shocked and deeply saddened upon seeing her not-so-small business all up in flames. You explained to her what happened, shaping the story so as not to sound guilty, and luckily she didn't blame you for anything.

After the firefighters arrived, your boss encouraged you to go home, saying that you already went through a lot for the night, so you needed to get some rest.

So now you were back to your motel room, unable to get some rest because you were still scared about yourself and your previous interaction with that police officer. But most importantly, you were anxious about Mark.

You were terrified for him. And your fear only increased because you couldn’t do anything to help him or save him. You realized that you depended on him twice as much as he depended on you and that made you feel useless in situations like this. Knowing that Renjun was - probably - with him eased your nerves a bit, but, at the same time, knowing that you didn’t do anything to help him made you feel selfish and hopeless.

Everything you did tonight was to save no one else but yourself. The entire night, you kept worrying about yourself and how you could avoid going to jail when during those very same moments in time you had no idea how Mark was or what he was going through.

Mark wasn’t the helpless one in this situation; it was you.

As you picked up your phone to call Renjun again, a loud thumping noise on the door startled you. Your body jolted up upon hearing the sudden sound and you walked nervously towards the door to look outside through the peephole.

Your eyes widened in shock and surprise at the sight of the face that was constantly on your mind. You didn’t waste any time opening the door and pulling the boy you were aching to see all night long inside the motel room, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

You rested your head in the crook of Mark’s neck and he reacted to your touch in an instant, stretching his arms to the small of your back to hug you as tightly as he physically could.

Tears fell from the corners of your eyes and you pulled back just as much as you needed in order to look into Mark’s exhausted eyes without breaking the embrace. “You can’t imagine how scared I was,” you whispered.

Mark stared deeply into your watery eyes. He moved his hands to cup both of your cheeks and nodded his head when he processed what you just said. “I know, I was terrified too. Renjun came to help me but we kinda fucked it up" he said with a stinging tone in his voice.

“What happened?” you asked and Mark let go of you and walked towards the bed in the middle of the room, sitting on the edge of it. You copied his movements and sat down right next to him, turning your head to his side as you waited for him to fill you in on what you had missed.

“That bastard ratted me out. That asshole from the diner. I had a deal with some teenagers and he called the cops on me. I don’t even know how he tracked me down.” Mark confessed looking straight, his eyes full of void, focusing on nothing in particular.

“Anyway, they took me to the police station and started questioning me about all this bullshit. There was no way I could excuse myself, they literally busted me, they saw me doing the deals. I texted Renjun and, I don’t know what he said to them but it didn't go well," he stopped to take a deep breath despite the desert that formed inside his mouth and the waterfalls that were forming in the corners of his eyes, "so we basically ran away and sooner or later the police will find me. I had nowhere else to go and I knew that your place would be relatively safe." Mark finished reciting you the events of the last few hours, tears staining his cheeks like the raindrops of a drizzle.

The dried tears that stained your cheeks became wet again when the new set of them fell down your face. You were staring at Mark through your teary gaze, trying to find any emotion in his void expression. He had never looked so soulless and it terrified you even more.

But the truth is that Mark himself was trying to mask his fear and anxiety by not showing them. The tears that traveled from his bambi eyes down to his popping cheekbones felt empty and the sight of him in such a state brought a stinging pain to your heart.

“So w-what does that mean?” your voice trembled at each word you uttered as you faced Mark with nothing but fear and another emotion that, at that moment, resembled love.

Mark made an attempt to wipe most of the tears off his face with the palms of his hands so that he could face you with clear vision. “It means I might go to jail. I will go to jail, unless I get out of here” he said. “Fuck, those bastards gave me an excuse to leave this fucking place” Mark scoffed as he sat up from the bed and started roaming around the narrow room, hands resting on his waist.

Your eyes trailed on every single one of his moves. You blinked several times to prevent any more tears from falling and cleared your throat to avoid your hoarse trembling voice. “So you’re really leaving” you said quietly, more to yourself than to Mark.

Mark turned around to look at you. “Yeah, I am. First thing in the morning. I don’t have many things to pack so it won’t take me long. And I can help you pack your things too, it will be quicker if-”

“Who said I’m coming with you?” you interrupted Mark and you immediately regretted doing so once you met his fuming gaze, which was now completely taken over by anger but was previously filled with nothing but emptiness.

“Y/n, we agreed to this. You’re coming with me and that’s it.” Mark growled as he took a step closer to you.

You stood up and started walking nervously around the place you called home, running your fingers through your hair in an attempt to ease your nerves. “We never agreed to anything. I told you I can’t-”

“Bullshit, that’s what you told me. Everything you said is bullshit. I want nothing but the best for you, we’ve been meaning to do this for such a long time and now that we have every reason to leave, you don’t want to! What’s wrong with you Y/n?” Mark clapped back at you.

A tear dropped down to your feet as you looked at Mark’s reddening face. Your lips trembled in your attempt to voice out your feelings, unfamiliar to your vulnerable state. “I’m scared, Mark,” you paused to sniff your nose, “I’m so fucking scared. For you, for me, for everything.”

Mark’s features softened at your sudden confession. He remained silent, gesturing to you to move on.

It was hard and unusual for you to open up to him like this. You hated the fact that he made you weak, that he had such a strong effect on you to make you eventually do as he says. But there was always this evil little voice in your head that told you not to trust him because, in the end, he would act just like everyone else and leave you.

“Do you know how scared I was tonight? I almost risked my fucking life for you! I had no idea where you were, I didn’t know what happened or why, and you know why? Because you never tell me anything! You only care about yourself,” all your fears and anxieties exploded and the outburst was so big you didn’t know how to stop. And you couldn’t stop even when you took a glimpse of Mark’s furrowed eyebrows and frowned lips, which you couldn’t tell if they were the result of sadness or anger.

You didn’t want to hurt him. But at this state, you couldn’t remain silent anymore. It wasn’t Mark’s fault, but you had reached a point where you couldn’t bottle up anything you felt anymore, so he just had to take everything you said.

You took a deep breath before you licked your dry lips to speak again in a calmer but still bitter tone. “If only you would disappear from my life I would-”

You never completed your sentence because Mark dashed towards you and grabbed you by the neck, squeezing the sides just so, so you could breathe a little bit, his face only a couple inches away from yours. “Shut the fuck up” Mark spat out with a growl which immediately kept you quiet.

His blackened eyes were piercing right through you, his fully black pupils bore into your wavering ones. You stood frozen there, completely locked in your place under Mark’s forceful hold on you, a position which made your lower stomach twitch.

Neither of you spoke for a few seconds. Mark’s face was painted in crimson, his eyebrows fully drawn in together and his nostrils flaring out, as he tried to keep his breathing steady. His angry state scared you even more; not because he would hurt you, but because he could hurt himself. Behind the mask of the angry man he presented himself as, you were the only one who could see the sad little boy who wanted nothing else from you but to love and trust him.

With Mark’s hand still pressing on your neck, your voice barely came out when you tried to speak. “Mark please, say someth-”

Mark interrupted you once again by smashing his lips on yours with the same force he held you under him and the same desperation he hid behind his bloody gaze. You didn’t waste a second, responding in an instant to him, moving your lips to the pace and rhythm he settled. You slightly parted your lips to allow him access to deepen it even more, as he slid his tongue in your mouth to dance with yours.

His presence and strong grip was too much to endure, so you stretched your arms to grab his hair. Mark sensed your need for more support, so he lessened the pressure on your neck and moved his free arm to the small of your back.

The previously quiet room was filled with the lewd sounds of your lips and tongues and the soft grunts and whimpers that left your lips in between each violent connection between them. You hadn’t realized how much you needed Mark, how much you had missed his touch and his burning essence on you until this very moment. Your body reacted to him almost immediately, as you felt your blood flow from your heart down to your aching core.

The heated argument from earlier was now completely forgotten and transformed into a passionate battlefield between two broken souls. Mark's crack infused breath, the bitter taste of alcohol on his dry lips and the lust overtaking his brain and controlling his actions electrified your entire body. There was not a single part of you that didn't want Mark, that didn't desire him and you couldn't help but want more of him.

Your brain, too foggy from the bold emotions and the alcohol you had consumed earlier, couldn't work properly, so your primal instincts took over you entirely. You kept kissing Mark while biting on his lower lip, which resulted in low whines coming out of him, his hardening length growing more inside the pressure of his pants.

You could sense him struggling to keep his cool and you were trying to give yourself some friction too by rubbing your thighs together. You reached your hand down to Mark's pants, cupping his dick outside the thick fabric of his jeans, the teasing action causing him to roll back his eyes.

Mark stopped kissing you abruptly and without wasting any time, he threw you on the bed with all his strength, watching you with hungry eyes. You plopped down on the bed, the sheets creasing at the sudden force and you looked at him with a lustfull gaze that invited him in.

"Wanna fuck you so dumb right now" Mark growled lowly as he took off his shirt from the back of his neck in a swift motion and continued to unbuckle his belt, his eyes never leaving your pleading ones.

You followed along, removing your own shirt and shorts, lying in bed only in your underwear. Mark had now discarded himself completely off of all his clothes except from his boxers, which had an undeniably visible precum stain on them.

Mark's body hovered above yours, connecting his lips with yours for a brief moment before he pulled back to attack your neck, biting and nipping on the spot right under your ear, which earned a loud gasp from you.

His lips kept on abusing your neck area, as you locked your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling at it with every bite on your neck and chest. The hot sensation of his lips, tongue and wet saliva all over your body made you whimper under him, a sound that made his cock twitch inside his underwear.

Mark traveled lower down to your chest. He slipped his hand behind your back to undo your bra, removing the bra straps off your shoulders eagerly and tossing the piece of clothing somewhere in the dirty motel room. He was quick to attack your hard nipples, dropping his head to suck on one of them, and reaching the other one with his hand, twisting and rubbing it between his fingers.

Your moans and whimpers echoed in the room, the sound and smell of your bodily fluids polluted the small space, everything about the inside of the place being purely filthy.

The heat in your body kept rising and you could feel the stickiness in your panties. You wanted Mark, all of him. You wanted him to treat you however he wanted to, you wanted to please him by giving him all of you and you wanted to feel desired by him.

"Please Mark," you breathed in a soft moan, "please fuck me" your face reddened in your pathetic confession, but it didn't seem to stop Mark from ripping your panties apart, leaving your dripping cunt exposed to the dirty cold air of the room.

Your drowsy eyes and rapid breathing fueled Mark and all his inner needs, as he lifted his body off yours and parted your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs apart. You were breathing heavily in anticipation of his next move, which was a sharp slap to your pussy that sent a strong bolt of pleasure through your whole body. You moaned in pleasure and surprise and Mark repeated his action at the sound of your whiny moans.

"You're a pathetic little slut after all, aren't you?" Mark lowered his head and spat on your pussy, which had you clenching around nothing. "Look at you, begging to be fucked" he brushed one finger up and down your clit, just enough to tease you and elicit a sharp intake of breath from you. "You really pissed me off, you know?" he muttered.

"Please Mark, I want you. I need you so bad, please fuck me" you whined with a high-pitched voice, the one you knew that Mark could never resist, as you pouted your lips at him.

Mark rested his hands on your knees, holding your legs as far apart as possible, so as to have full access to your glistening cunt. His dark eyes were filled with nothing but hunger and lust, unable to control himself any longer from how bad he wanted to taste you. He lowered his head even further, brushing his lips over your clit.

"As you wish, princess" he mumbled to your wet core before he attacked your swollen bud, licking and sucking on your clit with absolutely no remorse.

A loud moan escaped from your lips at the abrupt touch of Mark's wet tongue on your pussy, your hands intertwining in his hair, grabbing and pulling at every licking stripe Mark left on you.

He kept on licking and sucking on your clit, mumbling sweet nothings and small praises, which reminded you more of the Mark you knew rather than the cold and hungry man that was presented in front of you a few minutes ago.

The lewd sounds of Mark's lips and tongue on your pussy mixed with your whiny moans turned him on to the fullest, as he pulled one of his hands away from your knee and dropped it down to slowly pump his dick underneath his underwear.

The burning desire rising up in his body was becoming too much for him, so he pulled away from your clit with one last sucking pop and took off his underwear, setting free his painfully hard length.

Mark positioned himself between your legs and with a swift motion, he turned you over to your stomach, pulling you by your hips so that your ass was higher up towards him.

"Need to fuck you so bad" Mark growled as he smacked your ass cheek with a sharp slap, your pussy clenching at the burning sensation.

"Please, Mark" you whined in the pillow, a tear rolling down your face and landing on the sheets as a response to the overstimulation taking over your body.

The way you kept whining his name and the juices almost dripping down your thighs had Mark gritting his teeth. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his dick right at your entrance. Without giving you any warning, he dived into your pussy with a sharp stroke.

You shut your eyes in pleasure and gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles went white as Mark pounded into with sharp rhythmic strokes, each one pushing your head further into the pillow.

Your moans were coming out as crying mumbles as your face was buried deep in the sheets. Mark kept his pace and force, his head lolling back at the intensity of the moment. He kept his one hand on your hip in order to keep you steady while, with the other one, he reached down to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging at it and pulling it roughly, an action that triggered your hot tears to spill from your eyes at the pure sense of pleasure.

Mark's breathing was heavy and sharp at the sound of your soft growns and the sight of your ass jiggling at each stroke he left. "Is this what you wanted, pretty? Me fucking you so good you end up a crying fucking mess?" Mark provoked you in a voice as deep as the ocean, his groans low and hot like the pits of hell.

The sound of skin slapping on skin echoed inside the four walls of your motel room. Mark's hips connected with your ass in an intense force and a static speed, as he hit the spot that always brought you closer to the edge.

"I-I'm close, Mark, p-please" you whined as he gradually took you closer to your limits, your lower stomach twitching in pleasure and your jaw going slack as you felt your climax rising more and more.

"Let this pretty pussy cum on my dick, come on baby" Mark growled and with that, you let out a high-pitched groan into the pillow as your pussy clenched around Mark's dick, the forceful grip of your hands on the sheets was slowly loosened.

You felt Mark's strokes become sloppier as you coated his length with your warm fluids. He quickly pulled out and turned you over so your back was touching the soft mattress. He moved his body closer to you, pumping his dick slowly as he brought the tip to your lips, brushing softly against them as an invitation to take in his dripping cock.

"Open up for me, pretty" his fully blackened eyes bore into your teary ones. You slowly opened your mouth and Mark quickly pushed his cock into it, moving his hips as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on his veiny length.

"That's right, baby. Such a good girl" Mark whimpered as he slowly released into your mouth, his hot cum dripping down your throat. You swallowed all of it completely before he pulled out and laid down on the bed next to you, both of your heavy panting echoing in the now quiet room.

Mark took a few seconds to ease his breathing and turned to the nightstand above his head to search for the pack of cigarettes you kept hidden in the small drawer. He took one cigarette out of the box and brought it to his lips. With the lighter you kept inside that very same drawer, he lit it up, smoke immediately coming out of it. The room now smelled like a mix of sex and smoke, and you winced at the odd yet satisfying combination. Mark took a long drag out of the cigarette and then puffed the smoke into the filthy air.

As soon as you caught your breath, you turned your body towards Mark's, looping your arm around his waist and resting your head on his chest. Mark responded to your intimate touch, wrapping his free arm around your shoulders, stroking your hair lightly. He pressed a soft kiss on your forehead and then brought the cigarette again to his lips.

After the long and terrifying day you had, you finally felt at ease. Your heart was beating normally, your breathing was steady and your mind was blank. All you could do was savor this moment with Mark, wrapped around his arms and listening to his beating heart, a sound that promised you that everything would be alright.

"Please don't leave me, Mark. I wouldn't know what to do without you" you whispered to him as you slowly drifted away to deep sleep. Mark didn't say anything back. He kissed your forehead again instead and inhaled deeply, exhaling in a long sigh, as his eyes were fixed outside the window, looking over at the bright city lights.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of chirping birds outside your window. From the way the room was illuminated and from the shadows that formed behind every object, you could tell that it was only a few minutes after sunrise, and the bright orange sun confirmed your speculation.

With your eyes still half-open, you stretched your arms above your head and groaned, a soft yawn leaving your pouty lips. You then shifted between the sheets, turning your body to the other side of the bed, moving your arms around in search of the drug dealer’s toned body, the one that hugged you tight to sleep.

“Good morning, Markie” you mumbled, still half asleep. You rested your head on the pillow, still patting the mattress when you couldn’t sense the male beside you. Your eyes widened in an instant and your body quickly adjusted to the awake state. You were focused on the other side of the bed, where the boy you spent the previous night with would be lying sound asleep. Instead, you were met with nothing but tangled bedsheets.

“Mark?” you called again, in hopes that maybe he was in the bathroom and he couldn’t hear you. No response.

You yanked the sheets off you and rushed to the bathroom, opening the squeaky door with more force than you intended. “Mark?” you called, but the calling was in vain.

Maybe he went down to the diner to get us breakfast, you thought. It was still very early in the morning, but the diner never closed during the night, so there might be some leftovers or, if you were lucky, some fresh food at this hour.

So you decided to wait for him, thinking that his whereabouts were probably the old diner. Since you were now fully awake, you decided to take a shower and change into some fresh clothes. It will only be a few minutes, Mark will probably be back by the time I’m finished, you thought.

So you hopped into the shower, letting the warm water fall down your tense shoulders in order to ease your nerves and help your body physically relax. Your mind brought up the memories of the previous night you spent with Mark. You thought about the cop that came to the bar, you thought about the fact that Mark was in serious danger, you thought about your argument with him and how you made up afterwards by having steamy sex, just like every other time.

You didn’t know how to label your relationship with Mark, or whatever you had with him. He was more than a friend but less than a lover. He protected you, cared for you, helped you with any troubles you had and was always there for you, whatever it took for him. And what did you do for him in return? Nothing.

You did absolutely nothing, at least nothing that could compare to what he did for you. And you hated yourself for not being able to pull him out of his misery, even for the slightest bit, when he could even go as far as to move mountains just to see you crack a smile.

You didn’t deserve him; yet you were too selfish to let him go. He was a soul that wanted to fly and be free, but his wings were weighed down by your annoying fears and anxieties for the unknown.

The water dripping down your body suddenly turned cold and you immediately turned off the faucet and ran out of the shower, wiping your body dry with a towel. There was still no sight of Mark, so you quickly put on some fresh clothes and searched throughout the room in order to find your phone and call him.

Your eyes scanned every corner of the room where you could have possibly left your phone, when your gaze dropped to the wooden chair across the bed, the one where Mark usually sat when he played the guitar, only to find a folded piece of paper.

You stepped closer to the chair, picking up the piece of paper and turning it around. With shaky hands, you slowly unfolded it and a shiny bright red guitar pick fell on the floor. You picked it up, bringing it closer to your eye only to recognize it as one of Mark’s favorite ones.

You held the pick between your fingers and sat down at the wooden chair, looking at the wrinkly piece of paper. Written with a dark pencil, you recognized the sloppy handwriting and the small neat letters as none other than Mark’s and you couldn't help but feel your eyes sting in threatening tears as you slowly read and processed each heartfelt word he wrote:

Dear Y/n,

You’re probably reading this because you can’t see me in your room. But don’t bother look, because I have already left for a better, safer life and I won’t be coming back.

So here’s everything I couldn’t bring myself to say last night.

I love you deeply, Y/n. And I know your feelings towards me differ from my feelings towards you, but I’m not scared to hide it. You’re afraid of the power your heart holds and I understand that. For that, I will give you time, as much as you need to learn how to use this power.

I don’t know if I am a strong man or a coward for leaving; that I’m not sure of. But what I’m sure of is my life, and right now my life is in danger. I always spoke to you about how I wanted to have a normal life, to escape from this hell hole and build a different path for me.

Most importantly, I wanted to build this path with you. You’re the only thing that made this hell hole bearable, the only thing that gave me purpose, the thing that made my life have a meaning.

But I took some time to think and I realized that I can’t force you to follow the same path as me, no matter how much I need you or how much I want only what’s best for you.

So I left. I left to build this new path and I will try as hard as I can. I don’t care if I fail, because I know I can keep on trying and, no matter where you are, just the thought of you gives me strength.

I’m leaving you a piece of me behind though. My favorite guitar pick. I want you to have it. You can keep it, burn it, destroy it, I don’t care what you’ll do with it. I just want you to have something to remember me, something that means to me as much as you do.

So, for the meantime, mark me in your heart like I have marked you in mine, and think about what makes you truly happy. If you ever change your mind, you already know where to find me.

Your beloved,

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @matchahyuck @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @xxxx-23nct @uwuheeseungie @markleefuckme @kittydollzz @kkaye02 @dear-97 @mrkluvv @meloncremesoda @stargrll13 @koyrx @nuttie-nv-blog @markspetal @assholemimi @budibbly @chardonnayyyy

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thevillainswhore · 2 months

Text

New Tricks: A Pure Love

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: From first kisses to first dates, the two of you have come a long way from pining over the other in secret and innocent touches during an unplanned movie night. But now, what once was a forbidden fantasy for an unattainable crush becomes reality when you coach Bucky Barnes through losing his virginity.

Warnings: College AU, brother’s best friend!Bucky, fluff, swearing, teasing, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, nipple play, handjob, praise kink, size kink, big hints of subby Bucky, dorky Bucky, love confessions.

Author’s Note: Beta and dividers by @rookthorne, she’s been my rock through this whole AU. Words will never be enough to thank you my love ❤️ Here is part three and the final instalment to New Tricks’ main storyline 🥹

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

Your evening together has been magical, something pulled straight out of your dreams. The visuals of the bright, glowing stars and planets are nothing in comparison to the smile that pulls at Bucky’s mouth, even after the two of you left the museum.

During the walk back to your dorm with Bucky, he talks constantly and animatedly about the planetarium — recounting his joy for all the astronomical wonders he got to witness up close. And listening to your boyfriend’s contagious glee for a date you put together has you grinning from ear to ear.

In the late hour, you make a stop on your way back to the local twenty-four hour dessert parlour that is close to your dorm, opting for two single scoop ice cream cones. Bucky chose chocolate; you chose strawberry, and you stroll hand in hand down the Brooklyn cobblestones.

“I still can’t believe you don’t like chocolate ice cream, Bee,” Bucky accuses with his mouth full, shaking his head with a high sense of mock disapproval.

You roll your eyes playfully and scoff. He hasn’t stopped complaining about your dislike for chocolate flavoured treats since you revealed that snippet of information while you perused the options available to you at the parlour. “How many times are we going to go over this, Buck? Strawberry is superior,” you tell him with a proud smile.

“Absolutely not!” Bucky gasps, outraged. “I refuse to listen to this slander against chocolate.”

“Drama—” Your retort is cut short by him pressing you against the wall of the building next to you. The cone of ice cream in your hand almost topples precariously, interrupting you mid lick, and he ignores your surprised shout of, “Hey!”

“We are settling this right now, Buttercup.” He looks deep into your eyes with dire seriousness. “You’re gonna try mine and tell me that you like it.” The cone of chocolate ice cream appears in your peripheral vision.

“Bucky!” You laugh. “I haven’t tried chocolate ice cream in years!”

“All the more reason to try it now.” He holds his cone up to your mouth, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes and a pout on his plump lips. “For me?”

“Y’know, you can’t keep bribing me with those puppy eyes — No matter how handsome you are.”

With a cheeky smile, he whispers, “Is it working, though?”

Sighing in defeat, you can’t help the upturn of your lips at his charm. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Hit me with it.”

Like the cat who got the cream, Bucky closes the gap between you and the cold treat, letting it slightly touch your lips — the cold sensation makes you shiver, and you tentatively stick your tongue out, slowly laving it up the side of the scoop of ice cream.

The strong taste of cocoa and sugar doesn’t impress you, and you flick your gaze towards your boyfriend to say as such, only, he’s homed in on the motion of your tongue while you lick the last remnants of cream from your lips.

He shudders, the strong line of his shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he pants quietly. The rise and fall of his chest is uneven while his blue eyes darken to a stormy grey.

It's difficult to contain the satisfied smirk growing on your lips as you ask teasingly, “You good, baby?”

Bucky gulps, unsuspecting of such an innocent act to affect him so much. “I’m uh— I’m good.” His head bobs up and down, no real confidence in his answer, but his stare still pins you in place and he bites his bottom lip. “How’d you like it?”

“Hmm,” you hum, then you lick your lips again — just to make sure they are entirely clean, of course. Bucky’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention. “I have to say…” The urge to use pretence to answer his question makes you want to burst into laughter, but you soldier on with the truth. “I’m sorry, honey. I still stand by my initial statement.”

The erratic movements of his chest abruptly cease, and his eyes never leave yours while you lean forward, closer to his lips. “But,” you whisper, the tips of your fingers dancing up his chest. Every touch builds the deepening tension swirling in his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to try something new every so often, Puppy.”

You reach up to the corner of his mouth and swipe the smudge of chocolate ice cream left there with your thumb, then suck it into your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop — it feels like you well and truly break his resistance.

Bucky’s fingers twitch against the cone by your lips, and it crumbles. The forceful puffs of air from his parted lips blow against your mouth, the inevitability of him pouncing on you any second undeniable.

Rather than making it easier on him, you smirk and push him back by his shoulder. “Never hurts to experiment — Try new things. You never know.”

The dazed expression on his features is innocently sweet, and you try not to laugh as he reaches out for you to drag you back, but you dodge his hands and walk away, out of reach. You look at him over your shoulder and lick up the dribbling cream that almost reaches your hand.

Bucky stares after you, mouth agape. “I— What—” He shakes himself back to reality, and he licks his lips, brushing his long hair back with his fingers and he throws his crumbled ice cream cone into the nearest trash can — no longer interested in that sweet treat.

Bucky’s long strides work to catch up with you, a new kind of spark in his eyes you haven’t seen before. “Something new, huh?”

“Yeah, handsome,” you purr. The steps to your apartment come up, and you take the first few with your back to Bucky, a smirk playing on your lips. Just as you reach the entryway door, you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who returns your coy smile with a hesitant one of his own. “Sometimes you’ve got to just let go and give in.”

Bucky stands behind you while you unlock the door to your dorm. The material of his button up shirt scrapes against the bare skin of your arm, and you try to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine, but it's useless. The air is charged with a thick tension unfamiliar between the two of you, and you feel as though you're swimming in new territory, wading into the depths of the unknown.

“I had a great time tonight, Bee,” Bucky says quietly over your shoulder; the urge to kiss the skin there too tempting for him not to fall into.

A shiver ripples down your spine from the sensation of his lips tickling your skin, and you stop just as you’re about to open the door. They move carefully over the slope of your neck and up to the lobe of your ear.

Reining in your arousal, you turn around and agree with a broad smile. “Me too, handsome.”

His eyes flicker between you and the door to your dorm. You hold his hand while the other rests on the handle behind you. “Ready to go in?” you ask.

Bucky clears his throat. “Mhm,” he mumbles, and with his confirmation, you open the door. Immediately, the glow of orange lights grab his attention as they dance on the ceiling. Lit candles are placed on surfaces around the room, while your vinyl record turntable plays soft music.

The ambiance seems to both intrigue and calm Bucky, and you feel your own shoulders loosen. Thank you, Nat, you think inwardly.

“Come on,” you whisper, urging Bucky further into your dorm room. He walks forward wordlessly, and with him out of the way, you close and lock the door behind you both — it affords you a solitary second to process the secret desire that has been stored away for so long.

A guilty pleasure about your brother’s best friend that you revelled in at one point in time is becoming a reality.

There is no means to do that now, to stow it away in secrecy — he stood behind you, right there in reach of you, no longer a fantasy.

The door locks with a muffled click, and you turn around to see Bucky standing by the foot of your bed, head bowed and fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist. Slowly and steadily, you edge closer to him, careful not to make any sudden movements that will spook him. “Bucky?”

His body tenses slightly, his shoulders almost reaching his ears as you near him.

“Sweetheart?” you repeat, and you tuck back some of the hair that kept him hidden — a curtain he didn’t want to peer through. A dazzling pair of ocean blue eyes meet your own; swimming with anxiety and the desperate craving for direction.

“Hi, you.” Your voice soothes him, and he instantly melts into you — callused, trembling hands rush to seek contact, finding their home around your waist.

“Hi, Bee,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

The soft instrumental of guitar chords pacifies the ambience. “How are we doing?” you ask gently.

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat, and there’s a shaky, tremulous quality to his voice when he answers with, “Nervous.”

You place a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, hoping to calm him. “About what, baby?”

Leaning slightly backward to better look into his eyes, you notice there is a storm of emotions swirling through his irises. In an attempt to soothe the hurricane, you comfortingly rub your hands down his muscled arms.

“S— Sex.” His neck flushes with patchy red blotches; a staple of whenever he is flustered.

You hum soothingly and nod your head, acknowledging his worries. “You know, we don’t have to do it if you feel like you’ve changed your mind, sweetheart. I was nervous for my first time, too.” Your fingers wrap around his arm to squeeze gently, grounding him in the wallow of nerves. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head, gulping. “I— I want this. I really want this.” There is such conviction and assurity in his voice that you cannot help but kiss him softly. He pulls back and his breath shudders.

“You’re completely sure about this?” you ask once more, making sure to give him the space to reject your advances if he feels the need to.

“Mm.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, taking comfort in your embrace as he mumbles into your skin, “With everything I have.”

You grasp his face into your hands with the most care and love you can possibly manifest to bring him out of his safe retreat, and you connect your lips with his again.

The motion comes easy to Bucky now, natural. He has no fear and certainly no hesitation to kiss you the way he likes, with tenderness and an urge to claim you as his own — his mouth moves over yours in a synchronised dance, the steps familiar, but it still feels new, thrilling in nature.

Snaking your hands down from his cheeks, your fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake over his neck. They stop over his collar, and you look into his eyes to gain permission to undress him. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” He’s relaxed enough in your hold to not allow nerves to hinder him just yet.

You begin to make your way down his covered chest, and with the utmost care, you unfasten each button effortlessly — tan skin, smooth as silk and dotted with a pattern of sun kissed freckles, is revealed with each undone button, and you have to tamper down your impatience to rip the shirt straight off of his shoulders.

“You’re so gorgeous, Bucky,” you breathe in disbelief, and your palms slither back up his body, sneaking over the ridges of his abs. “And all mine.”

“Ah–” Bucky gasps and jolts — your nails, longer than usual, brush over a responsive area of his stomach and you grin into his neck.

You skim the tips of your fingers over the planes of his pecs, and over his shoulders to finally slide off the material veiling the godly sight of his body to you. Of course, you have already seen your boyfriend without a shirt on before, but right now, in the glow of the candlelight and the orange hues dancing over his skin, he looks like he’s been sculpted from the angels themselves.

“Bee…” A dust of pink decorates his high cheekbones, still ever so shy with your compliments.

You open your mouth to reply, but Bucky thoroughly shocks you as he begins to unbuckle his belt, the muscles in his stomach tensing as his hands work to free the leather from his slacks.

You watch, breathless, while he pulls down the slacks to reveal a pair of tight black briefs that do nothing to hide the growing bulge. Bucky is fucking huge, that much you make out from the strain of the material, and you’re almost sure he isn’t even fully hard.

“Oh my god.” The sensation of your quiet divulgence against his ear elicits a sudden moan from his lips. You will never tire of being the cause of that sound.

The rush his vocalised pleasure evokes has you beginning to reach behind your back to unzip your dress. However, Bucky hesitantly stops your hands in their haste. “C— Can I do it?” he stutters, eyes wide and glossy. “Can I undress you — Please?”

It would be a crime to not allow him after a plea so sweet.

With your nod of approval, he takes a deep breath, calming his nerves before he makes his way behind you. You feel his fingers hover over your back, tentative and unsure and it takes him a moment until he sighs in finality.

He pinches the zipper, tiny in his long fingers, and he slowly descends the barrier downwards. The spaghetti straps slip off one by one — his knuckles gently skim over your shoulders until they trail down your arms, and with a quiet flutter, the entirety of your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just your lingerie.

You wait patiently, letting Bucky take in every inch of your half naked form. Moments pass by and your combined breaths — one steady, the other erratic — ricochet through the room.

“Sweetheart?” You feel the strands of his long hair sweep across your skin as he looks up at the sound of your voice. “Would you like to get my bra?” It’s an offer, a choice for him to decide on his own terms without the pressure.

Stunning you with his growing confidence, he begins to unfasten the material — the straps fall down your arms with ease and you gently let it drop to the floor.

Bucky gulps harshly, then. The realisation that your breasts are on display for the first time to his eyes hitting him like a truck.

Stepping around your figure to come to your front, he keeps his eyes on your face, never once looking away as he kneels to the ground. His nimble fingers work to slip your heels off, taking care to help you place your bare feet down onto the carpet without letting you trip, and he kisses your lower thighs. Once he’s finished, the palms of his hands rub up the back of your calves and squeeze while he rises to stand.

His gaze still doesn’t stray.

“You can look, Bucky — It’s okay.”

Only with your go ahead do his eyes dart down, taking the entirety of your body in at once. A harsh inhale of breath catches in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest is rapid while his fingers twitch by his sides. His gaze locks onto your breasts — guilty as charged with his basic instincts.

“Puppy,” you call out to him, parsing through the growing fog of desperate need in his mind, visible by the glint of hunger across his irises. “Come here.”

His eyes shoot up, searching your expression for any sense of mocking, and he finds none. There is a desperate gleam in his cloudy, misted gaze — frantic for guidance and reassurance still. “Come here, baby,” you whisper, holding your hands out for him to grab hold of. “It’s alright.”

The steps Bucky takes are rigid, robotic — not allowing himself to lose what little control he has left. You vow to change that. He stops at a small distance in front of you, further away than you care for, and you take the bait to bring yourself closer until your nipples skim across the bare planes of his skin.

The sensation steals your breath away, and Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, clenching his fists at his sides — it takes you back to your movie night together all that time ago, when the voice in his mind told him to hold back, to not give in to the urge to reach out instead.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“None of that, sweetheart,” you coo, softly. “I’m gonna need you to open your eyes so I can see you.”

Like magic, he flickers his eyes open, and he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“There he is.” You smile reassuringly at him. “Deep breaths for me, baby. You’re doing so good.”

Bucky takes a small moment to do as you say, treating your word as gospel. His mouth works furiously over the words that won’t seem to come, until he settles on a breathless, “You’re so beautiful.”

The way he’s devouring you with his eyes says volumes of his true meaning, and you couldn’t find it in you to mind that he was speechless.

You gently tuck the hair that’s fallen into his eyes behind his ears. “Oh, baby,” you whisper back, holding his face in your hands while a torrent of emotions that vary from awe to trepidation threaten to sweep you away. “You’re something else. I’m so lucky.”

A small huff of laughter falls from his parted lips, and he begins to grin, a cheeky pull at the corner of his lips that spreads warmth from your core to the tips of your toes and fingers. “If only you knew how much the guys on the team make fun of me for saying the exact same thing.”

The two of you share a small bout of laughter — a wholesome moment to cut the charged air and be yourselves for a second.

You slide your hands down from his face down to his chest, feeling the steady pitter patter of his heart that’s calmed down from the fast thrum — the soft smile you give him forces a heavy exhale of breath from his lungs, and you revel in the one you’re given in return.

“Good to keep going?” You check in once more.

Bucky nods his head, certain. “Please.”

“Sit on the bed for me then, Puppy,” you softly direct him.

Following behind him, sure to stay close for both his benefit and yours, he climbs onto your mattress and sits against the headboard. He holds his hand out to you, routine embedded into him to guide you onto his lap.

It registers to him then, as your bare skin melts against his, that you have never been in this position with so little layers between you.

Carefully, you rest your crotch — covered by your thin layer of underwear — against his. A thrill of tension stiffens Bucky’s muscles, and you smile gently at him while you shuffle your knees comfortably on either side of his thighs — fully aware that the sensation is much more intense than usual.

“Bee…” His warm, callused hands hover over waist as you readjust yourself, and while you set yourself down on his lap, the lace of your panties swipe over his hardening cock. “Oh— Fuck.” He chokes out.

Immediately, you still. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I wanna touch you,” Bucky forces out, breathing heavily. “So bad—”

“Remember to breathe, Buck,” you remind him gently, not wanting him to overwhelm himself — not this early. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

His chest shudders with a harsh breath, and he whimpers, “I don’t know what to do.”

The lack of experience and inadequacies that stem from it run rampant through his saddening expression, from the sheen of tears that start on his lash line, to the deep frown on his pouting lips. They lock him in place and render him frozen under you — the tense line of his thigh muscles taut beneath yours.

You realise with a shock that while he is so eager to please, a mingling sense of shame screams that he won’t be able to make this good for you.

“Hmm. Baby, listen,” you soothe, gathering his attention once more. His hands intertwine easily with your own and you kiss his knuckles. “How about we start off with something you do know?”

Bucky looks at you with all the innocence of someone completely out of their depth. “O— Okay,” he stutters. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You smile, placing a single, loving kiss to his lips. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Sitting back upright, you slowly test a gentle roll of your hips over his crotch and instantly, Bucky gasps loudly. You grin salaciously as you witness his eyes flutter closed. But you still take care to stop, to wait a second and look for any signs he doesn’t like it — there are none, much to your satisfaction.

Slowly, you rock back and forth over his bulge, drinking in the slight, hitched moans and whines that fall from his lips. “You’re doing so well — Proud of you.” You bring the tips of his fingers to your lips and kiss them gently. “It’s only you and me, okay?”

Bucky’s eyes flutter; heavy breaths escaping his mouth. “You and me,” he whispers.

“That’s right. Just us.”

“You don’t have to worry your pretty little head, Puppy,” you tease gently. Bucky bites his lip. “I need you to just relax — Sit back and let me do the thinking.”

“Buttercup–”

“Here.” You guide Bucky’s hands to your sides, smoothing them down the slopes of your hips, and you repeat the motion a few more times to better allow him to feel accustomed to the feel of your naked skin. “There you go.”

His hands, rough and calloused from his football training, stain your body for an eternity — caressing you with a ceaseless love and compassion.

“Touch me,” you say, unable to simmer the blooming heat within you.

Transfixed, Bucky’s thumbs brush back and forth. There’s still a sense of hesitation in his movements — the way his fingers twitch and tickle over your skin. But it lasts only a moment; a path of his own choice decorates your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Your skin is so soft,” he sighs in awe.

He rests his head back against the headboard with a soft sigh, and he tilts his chin down to watch you grind against his bulge. Leisurely, he tenderly brushes his fingers over your stomach, the touch of his hands beginning to drift upwards under the slope of your tits.

“Please, Bucky,” you plead with him, the tease of having him so close is too much to bear. “Touch me.”

“‘Kay,” he mumbles drunkenly.

The pad of his thumb swipes over the peak of your nipple softly, a barely there sensation that makes you keen. “Yes, just like that, Pup.”

It’s all the reaction he needs.

With a surge of confidence, Bucky begins to massage your tits, continuing to use his thumbs to rub circles over your sensitive nipples while you grind against his growing cock. “I— Is this okay, Buttercup?”

You almost scoff — the thought that his experimental touches are anything less than okay absurd to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you whine, and the reassurance of your pleasure invigorates him to move faster, steadier and more firm with his touch. “Making me feel so good, baby, keep going.”

Lost in the feel of his touch and the insistent pressure of his clothed cock against your folds, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. The flutter of butterflies in your stomach crescendo into a frenzy the faster you move. All the while, you miss the way Bucky’s gaze is intently focusing on the way your breasts sway with the grind of your hips; how he licks his bottom lip with an urge to claim.

The sharp, intense sensation of his fingers pinching a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger forces a shout from your parted lips. “Fu–uck, Bucky — Ohmygod.” Your cunt pulses and aches when his fingers stay hovering, spooked at the sudden reaction. “More, more—”

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, and he bucks up into you, matching your rhythm and this time, it’s you who’s soaking the material of your panties. “Bubs, I— Holy shit — I need more.”

It’s an achievement you’re most excited for, that he’s freely telling you, unprompted, what he needs.

Though, the teasing nature you held could not be dissuaded — you meet his gaze with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Puppy?” Your hands hover over his lower stomach, the tips of your fingers dancing over the twitching muscles, and you move your index finger beneath the fabric. “Wanna get rid of these?”

The elastic waistband of his underwear snaps back against his lower stomach, making him yelp in surprise. “Ah— Mhm,” he begs deliciously, eyes wide and completely surrendering to you. “Take ‘em off, Bee, please.”

Your bare skin brushes against his while you shuffle backwards, slowly crawling down his legs all while marking his skin with kisses and teasing nibbles, until you reach his briefs.

Looking up at Bucky under your eyelashes, you blink sweetly, eyeing the sweat that begins to build on the ridges of his abs. Your breath ghosts over the material of his underwear while you ask, “Can I have your cock?”

“Oh, god,” he chokes out while his dick twitches in uncontainable excitement.

“I need your consent, Bucky.” The statement brings him back to the present, grounding him to the sight of you between his thighs and softly reminding him that everything is on his terms.

“Yeah,” he gasps. A few deep breaths cause his chest to rise and fall, steadying the rabbiting pulse in his neck. “Yes.”

With his confirmation, you slowly, gently ease your fingers underneath the fabric that hid what you truly wanted — the waistband slides easily down his tense thighs. Your eyes are focusing on the new inches of skin revealed, the sculpted line of his Adonis belt that runs down to the one part of his body you’re desperate to see.

Bucky watches you with bated breath — you’re so close to his cock, and it’s still not enough for him.

The small whine of frustration makes you flit your gaze upwards. A sheen of moisture shines over his eyes, and the pout of his lips are shining slick with spit — he looks absolutely wrecked, and you hadn’t even taken his hard cock from the confines of his briefs.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you finally pull his briefs down until his twitching length bursts free of the material, standing tall and thick, curved and almost purple from the strain of arousal. Your eyes follow the veins trailing up his length, and you lick your lips once you spot a pearl of precum already forming from the tip of his dick — a sweet temptation that’s teasingly begging you to have a taste.

You’re speechless, literally awe stricken while you salivate over the length and girth of his cock. “Oh.” The slow blinks of your eyelids leave them hooded, but you continue to stare, hypnotised at the sight of your boyfriend’s huge cock.

“B— Buttercup?” he whispers, voice tense with worry after the few seconds of silence that stretch while you stare, transfixed. “Is— Is everything okay?”

You swallow, trying to rid the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Bucky,” you say roughly, and you look up into his doe eyes. “If I weren’t a more patient woman, I’d have your cock in my mouth and down my throat already.”

He sputters, the blotchy redness beginning to creep up from his chest to his neck.

“You’re so fucking big, baby. Holy fuck— how do you have such a pretty cock?” you wonder aloud.

“Shit, you can’t say that,” Bucky groans, squeezing his eyes shut as his dick twitches. The far more rapid rise and fall of his chest makes his stomach muscles contract and flutter — the sight lends ideas for the future idea of working him over into the line that blurs pleasure and pain, all to see how he takes it.

But you lick your lips, promising yourself to revisit that thought later. Tonight was about him.

“Fine. I’ll behave,” you tell him, waiting until his eyes open and focus on you before you grin wolfishly. “For now.”

Bucky’s lips part to speak, but before he can work the words past his tongue, you sit up and grab his hands, directing them to your hips and over the fabric of your panties. The hold you have over the back of his hands leaves him unable to pull away — not that he desires to.

The fabric glides over your hips with your guidance, revealing the bare skin. “Oh— Fuck,” Bucky murmurs, watching the journey the fabric takes until it lands on the floor next to your bed.

“Buttercup,” he gasps in wonderment. “You— You’re perfect.”

It’s difficult to remain confident while your boyfriend looks at you as though you put the stars in the sky just for him — like he’s seeing an angel. “You’re a true gentleman, aren’t you?” you laugh, trying to hide the way his stare makes you flustered.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes soaking you in with such a reverence that’s dizzying. “You— Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m taking about because — Fuck. Believe me, you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

The world seems like it stops on its axis right then and there. You know Bucky’s emotions are heightened and at an all-time high, but you also know that he means every word of what he says — his sobering eyes tell you the truth alone.

You’re the one who becomes a stuttering mess for a moment, and you stumble over your words before you manage to regain your composure, and you clear your throat. “T— Thank you, baby.” The pause in heated touches gives you an opportunity to check in. “How are you feeling?”

Still trying to gain some semblance of control, he audibly gulps. “I— I’m good, yeah.”

“Yeah?” You begin to steadily shuffle forwards on your knees, further up his legs to hover over his crotch, careful to not let your body graze him just yet. “You know you can back out whenever you’d like, okay? You say the word and we stop.”

The small distance between your most intimate parts is dangerously in the balance.

“No,” Bucky says finally, shaking his head as his hair sweeps over his face. A few strands settle over his cheeks. “Wanna keep goin’.”

You bite your lip and smile wickedly. “You got it, baby.”

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth as he watches you begin to lower your body. “We’re just going to keep doing what we’ve been doing, okay, baby?” You reassure as his breathing picks up.

But his eyes stay focused and fixated on you.

When your cunt lowers against the base of his cock, the movement pushes his length down until the tip almost reaches his belly button, and even with the visual of you resting over his length as you always did in the past, Bucky isn’t prepared for the feel of his bare dick sitting snug between your folds. His eyes shoot open while he gasps loudly and balls up the bedsheets tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit — Fuck, oh my— God—”

The palms of your hands smooth over his tense stomach. “Easy there, big guy,” you coo softly. “It’s okay.”

His breathing becomes erratic as his back arches against the headboard. “Oh god, you’re— You’re fuckin’ soaked, Bee.”

You are. Nobody else ever had this kind of effect on you, and so you certainly aren’t ashamed for Bucky to know how much he turns you on. “That’s what you’re doing to me, baby — Can’t help it,” you keen.

His chest rumbles while he groans deeply, throwing his head back.

The urge to move is compelling, almost swallowing you whole — Bucky isn’t the only one struggling to keep calm, with his thick length brushing your entrance and putting constant pressure on your clit, it’s a challenge to not take him then and there.

“Do you remember when we first kissed?” you ask breathlessly before you begin to squirm. “And I asked you to think about how wet and tight I’d be for you?”

Bucky’s muscles strain as he frustratedly tangles his fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, baby.”

Your hips work a little quicker over his cock, the slide seamless from how aroused you are, and to your surprise, you feel his hips work against you, too. “How does it feel to know your inches away from slipping inside my pussy?”

The rocking movements of his hips falter as he jerks up and jostles you, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter in a crazed frenzy. “It feels— Please— You’re killin’ me—”

“My sweet boy,” you utter. “Don’t worry, you’ll have it soon.”

Each and every plea and whimper that falls from his red-bitten lips only serves to turn you on even more. He tries to flex his hips to push his cock into you, to feel the warmth of your cunt around him, but even he isn’t ready for the sensation that ripples down his spine once the tip catches on your hole.

“Fuck!” he curses.

Hurriedly, you move yourself away before he can slip in any further. “Nuh-uh, sweetheart, I need you to be calm for me, alright? You can have me when you're calm, not just yet. Breathe for me.”

“No — I, no no, Bee, please, don’t do this to me. I want—” Bucky vehemently shakes his head from side to side, the vein in his neck almost popping from his exertion to hold back. His hands grip your waist, digging into your skin as he drags you back down onto his cock desperately. “Please, I wanna feel—”

“Oh, Pup,” you sigh with an all too innocent smile. “You wanna be a good boy for me, huh?”

“I can, I can,” he whines. The feel of his hands pawing at your waist sends a thrill up your spine. “Fuck, I can!”

“Yeah,” you mumble, unsure if you can hold out much longer yourself. “You can, Pup — I know you can.”

“Bee—” Bucky is a pure wreck, his chest heaving with breath, and a film of perspiration builds on his temples. You know it’s impossible for him to garner any more control, and you grant him mercy as you slightly lift your hips up to line the hole of your pussy up with his cock.

“Bucky, baby,” you call to him, waiting patiently until his wild eyes lock onto you, and you forewarn him, “You're sure about this?”

His bright blues cloud over with a haze of lust, and you shiver when he cries, “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe. “Alright, baby — Wait, hang on, sweetheart.” The bed creaks as you shuffle backwards once more. “Let’s get you off the headboard, so you’re comfier.”

The two of you move in tandem so his head rests back against the pillows, and you settle back over his hips, reaching out to smooth your thumb over his cheek. “Better?”

Bucky smiles and nods once, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Okay.” You brace yourself with a steady breath, and finally sink down onto Bucky’s cock, the tip easing into your cunt with a pop. The stretch from his head alone has you squeezing your eyes shut, but you revel in the way he freezes under you, then the sluttiest whine you’ve ever heard falls from his slack mouth.

The effort to work past the thickness of his head causes your hands to rest on his stomach, allowing him to hold your weight, and your mouth falls open with a silent scream as you drop down further, taking more of his length.

Glancing down at your boyfriend to check on him, you find only the whites of his eyes through his hooded lids, and his fists balling so tightly in the sheets of your bed that they begin to tear.

With a whimper, your walls clench around his cock. “A— Almost in, baby.” Another inch fills your cunt. “Doing— Doing so well, Bucky,” you pant.

Your nails create indents into his skin while you internally build up the courage to take the entirety of his length. It feels an impossible task, one you desperately underestimated, but you were no quitter. Your walls rhythmically squeeze around him, and your breath hitches when you feel him twitch against the stimulation.

“God, I want you,” you moan, hanging your head. An unintelligible mumbled string of words or sounds fall from his lips in reply. “Fuck it.”

With a deep breath and a prayer for mercy, or strength, you arch your back — the wrecked moan that Bucky rasps sends a thrill of hunger up your spine. The slide of his cock against your walls makes you cry out, and you quickly drop your hips until you're fully seated against his crotch.

“Oh shit!” Instantly, Bucky shoots up from the mattress and wraps his arms firmly around your middle, crushing you against his heaving chest. “Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move — Please — Don’t fuckin’ move.”

You sling your arms around his shoulders in reply, and the two of you cling to one another with only your heavy breaths disturbing the quiet music in the background. The bare skin of your bodies sticks to each other, glistening in the candlelit room while the silent moments pass.

Hot, heavy breaths fan over the skin of your neck while Bucky nuzzles his face against the juncture of your shoulder — the movement effectively burying him entirely into your form. There is no way for him to get any closer, or any way to hide his muffled sniffles and gasps for air.

The beat of your heart steadies and thumps evenly — you pray that it is enough to calm his overwhelmed senses. “Steady, Pup — You’re alright, I’ve got you.” Gently, slowly, you comb your fingers through the damp strands of hair by his temples. “Just stop and let it happen, feel it, don’t fight it. It’s okay, baby.”

“S’too much, too much, Bee— Please, please, I don’t—” He stumbles over his words, working himself up.

“Bucky,” you say, firm but gentle, trying to reason over his rambling. “Do you need to stop?”

“No!” He holds you even tighter. “Please no, no no, don’t go, don’t move, don’t take— Please stay.”

“Hey, hey— I’m here, I’m here. I’m staying — Breathe, baby.” You rub your free hand over his back, shushing his pleas and continuing scratching your fingers over his scalp.

As you pacify Bucky, he begins to calm down — his breathing softens, the heightened intensity of emotions flowing easily into a quiet, content peace between you. Cautiously, you slightly lean yourself back and ask, “Can you look at me, please, sweetheart?”

It's a gradual process as he plucks the courage to lift his head out of your neck and surrender to your request, and your heart tightens when his teary eyes bore straight into your soul. “Oh, baby,” you sigh, bringing your hands round to hold his cheeks. “Was that a lot?”

Bucky timidly nods, his arms still caging themselves around your waist to keep you close.

“It’s okay — You’re okay, sweet boy — Doing so good.” The deep-rooted need to reassure him takes hold, an instinct that’s embedded within you to make him feel as safe as you possibly can. “Take your time.”

“Mm.” Bucky rests his forehead against your chest and listens to the steady beat of your heart, tethering himself back down to earth.

The charged air that holds the weight of tension finally breaks when he blows a long breath onto your skin. “This is— This is so much better than I imagined. Fuck, this is— Bee, I think I’m seeing stars.”

“Oh my god, you fucking dork.” Your laughter fills the room, full of pure happiness and glee to be able to find such fun in sex.

He smirks lopsidedly at you until you sigh, the amusement turning to fondness, and you kiss his forehead — almost able to forget the position you’re in.

But you’re soon reminded as Bucky quietly rasps, “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight — Can barely breathe.” Goosebumps run down the naked skin of your arms at the same time your cunt pulses. He grunts deeply with a sharp hiss. “You really were right.”

“I did warn you,” you tease, giggling when he lifts his head up and playfully glares at you. Closing the distance, you kiss him deeply, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as you whisper against his lips, “Ready for me to move now, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans.

You don’t waste any more time. Tangling your fingers around the locks at the back of Bucky’s head, you pull and begin to smother his neck with wet kisses, the taste of salt delicious on your tongue.

Raising your hips, his cock slides out of your pussy, leaving behind a hollowness you crave to fill immediately. Without forewarning, you swiftly lower yourself, sobbing with pleasure at how perfectly he fits inside you. “Bucky.”

“I know,” he moans, long and low, sounding as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, Bee — I feel it too.”

Words fail you, the delightful feeling you’ve waited so patiently for holding you hostage as you pant into his shoulder.

It becomes easier with each stroke to fuck yourself onto his cock, making sure to grind yourself deeper into his lap each time you come down.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ think straight.” Bucky’s palms slide over your ass and grip it firmly.

You laugh deliriously, high on the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and you barely notice the way you instinctively change the motion of your hips, beginning to grind into his lap in circular motions.

A strangled sounding moan causes your focus to snap towards Bucky. “Oh— Jesus fuck!” His fingernails dig into your ass as he hysterically pleads, “Like that, baby — Exactly like fuckin’ that.”

Huffing with a smirk, you breathe, “You like that, huh?”

“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. You start to speed your motion up, and the filter between his mind and lips completely crumbles. “Your— Your p—pussy feels good — So good. You have no idea — Shit — Keep goin’, please—”

The words tumbling from his lips are cut off when you push against his shoulders, sending him off balance to lay back down on the bed with a thump. Then, resting your palms on his chest, you lean forward to kiss him. You whisper against his lips, a sly smirk creeping onto your mouth, “Hold on tight, baby.”

Using Bucky as leverage to hold your weight, you begin to bounce on his cock. The position allows his length to sink all the way into you, his tip hitting your cervix at the right angle to make you whimper.

“Oh, it’s so— Fuck, I’m so deep— In you.” He struggles to breathe, the wind totally knocked out of him, but he’s mesmerised and completely drowning in the sensation.

“I know, baby — Stretching me out so much.” A fire simmers in your eyes. The muscles of your thighs burn with exertion, but you refuse to stop — especially not when your boyfriend is a fucked-out mess beneath you, trying to control the subtle flexes of his hips.

While you’re riding him, far too engrossed in making sure you keep the rhythm steady, you miss the feral glint in Bucky’s eyes. He’s possessed by the sight of your cunt sucking in his cock so deliciously; your slick dripping down onto him and coating his dick.

Licking his lips, his eyes lock onto your puffy clit, enlarged and throbbing in pleasure, and he inches his hand forward to experimentally swipe his thumb over your nub. His gaze snaps up to you with the unleashed moan you scream to the roof. “Fuck, Bucky!”

You're quickly pulled back forward as Bucky grabs you behind the neck, bringing you down to kiss him. His tongue slithers into your mouth, his muffled groans rumbling against your lips while he continues to buck up into you.

The need to catch your breath has you pulling away, gasping for air.

Bucky looks drunk — eyes hooded with a hunger blurring the blue of his irises and the black of his pupils. His pink swollen lips hang open, wet from clumsy kisses with too much tongue for his hazy mind to process.

You hang your head low between your shoulders and cry, “Why are you so damn big, baby?”

His hands slink down to your hips, and he gropes at the quivering muscles desperately. “Buttercup,” he tries to warn you — the cries over the size of his dick are sending him into a deeper pit of hunger.

Your head’s already too hazy to process anything other than the feel of his cock. “I’m aching, how the fuck am I taking you right now?”

The thrusts of Bucky’s hips speed up, and he bends his knees to plant his feet on the bed, his sole mission to fuck up into your cunt.

“Feel so fucking full, Bucky — Filling my pussy up so good.” The breathy moans fall like chants from your lips.

The steady, punishing rhythm you maintain falters, and your breath hitches when his cock slips from your cunt — the obscene, slick sound of it slapping against his stomach filling the room.

You pant and press your hands down on his chest while he groans to the ceiling. “Shit, I—” Bucky’s eyes glaze over when he looks down at his body, the twitch of his cock in time with the hammering of his heart under your palm. “I didn’t mean to—”

You can’t help but giggle, and the sound immediately calms his worries — the cinch between his brows smoothing over as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry, baby.”

The movement of your hand towards his cock has his entire focus — his tongue moves over his lips, and you watch the shine of spit; how it makes his lips an even deeper red. “Oh, fuckin’— Fuck.”

His exclamation makes you freeze. “What’s wr—”

It clicks.

Though you took him in your heat, felt the pleasure he can give you, the realisation hits you like a freight train that not once this night had you felt the weight of his fully erect cock in your palm; to wrap your fingers around the length and work him over.

“I can’t—”

“Shh, you’re alright,” you soothe, and carefully, you wrap your hand around his girth. Your eyes widen when you can only just connect your thumb and fingers together. “Fuck me—” you gasp, beginning to lift yourself up to line him up to slide back in. “God — You can barely fit in my hand, baby. Here we go.”

It’s unclear to you what exactly causes Bucky to snap.

The room whirls in your vision and you gasp with surprise as his body suddenly shoots up and with ease from the mattress, flipping you over in one smooth, fluid motion. “Oh, fuck!”

One second your back is resting against the mattress, over the rumpled covers, and the next, your boyfriend's hands are pushing your thighs as far up your chest as they can go.

“I’m so sorry, Bee,” Bucky groans, kneeling between your spread legs — one hand holds your legs in place, the other brushes featherlight over your soaked lips. The sharp gasps for air make his voice sound hoarse and raspy.

He stares down at your pussy, licking his lips. “I can’t—” The fingers that danced over your lips move to grab his cock, encircling it in his large palm before he rests the head of it against the fluttering entrance of your cunt. “I can’t hold back anymore, need this.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply — the tip of his thumb brushes against your clit and you keen upwards, just as his cockhead slips into you. The slide of him easing into you is smooth, and the drag of his length stretches you inch by pleasurable inch.

“Oh my fucking god, baby!” Bucky bites the inside of your calf while you whine loudly, your walls clenching down onto him — a tear rolls down your cheek, the size of him is almost too much. “Yes!”

“Fuck, s’deep. I gotta move, Bubs — Please, lemme move.” His weight shifts to cover you, pinning you against the bed while he leans close to pepper needy kisses and bites over the column of your neck.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Bucky, please,” you beg, “I want it all.”

Raising your arms up to hold the headboard, you steady yourself for what is to come, and offer yourself to him on a platter, free for his taking.

Immediately, his eyes dart towards the movement of your tits, the natural bounce of them with every aborted thrust he makes. “Hnng— Yes,” he rasps. The slow thrusts turn rough, his skin slapping against the back of your sweat-slick thighs.

Your nipples, hard and pebbled, become his new target. “I want every fuckin’ inch of you, Bee,” he growls, swooping down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The room spins from the dizzying pleasure; the veins on his cock scrape your walls, his wet tongue playing with you, the hairs above his cock teasing your clit. It all begins to wind the knot tighter and tighter in your stomach.

“I need more,” you gasp while Bucky drags your nipple with his teeth and releases it with a wet pop. Your arms slither around his neck and bring him into your hold. “Fuck, Bucky, please.”

Corded muscles move you up the bed, and he forces his forearms under your back to hold you close. “Whatever you want, baby.” The fast thrusts slow to a deep, dirty grind — the length of him going deeper and deeper on each circle of his hips. “Gonna— Fuck, gonna give you anythin’ you want.”

The two of you crash your lips together and whimper into the other's mouth — heavy breaths and pants mingle while your combined sweat builds between your heated bodies.

“Wanna cum, Buck,” you plead desperately. “Want you to make me cum; feel s’good in me.”

A huff of breath fans over your lips, and a sly, lopsided grin pulls at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. The covers rustle and from the corner of your eyes, you see him planting a hand beside your head, next to your ear. “Don’t you worry,” he coos shakily through his grunts and moans. “I’ve got ya, Bee.”

His free hand drifts between your breasts and over your stomach, down to where you are connected. You gasp as the pad of his thumb settles over your clit, and he rubs in tight, fast circles, keeping pace with the thrusts of his hips into your pussy.

Your thighs begin to shake as you cry into his neck, “Please, keep going — Don’t stop!”

“Come on, baby,” Bucky coaxes gently. “You can do it. You can cum for me — C’mon.”

The tension in your stomach becomes unbearable — you slap the covers of the bed and ball them into your fist for something to ground you against the onslaught. “I— Ha, fuck!” You heave for breath, panting. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Let go — Can feel you, how tight you fuckin’ are. I’ll catch you, Bee.”

Your ears ring as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure insurmountable in its height, when it finally hits you. You convulse through the waves of it, letting it consume you whole while ragged pants for air and hoarse moans fall from your parted lips. “Baby, baby — I’m cumming!”

He still continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the last tendrils of electricity run their course, leaving you a twitching mess.

An overwhelming urge to be close to Bucky forces your hands to blindly reach out to grasp a part of him. The tips of your fingers graze the warm skin of his bicep, and he suddenly pulls away entirely — your cunt gaping and weeping at the loss of him.

“Pup?” You whimper. “Come back, what are you doing?”

“I’m h— Here, Buttercup,” he manages. Unknown to you, the feel of your walls fluttering against his dick almost had him finishing inside of you. His length glistens with your cum, and Bucky has to close his eyes tight and breathe to control himself.

Stubborn as you are, you intertwine your hands with his and pull him into you, smirking lazily at his shocked gasp when his cock grazes over your cunt.

Strands of his slick hair tickle your cheeks, and his cheeks are a deep hue of red. “Why did you stop, sweetheart?” you ask. The pupils of his eyes blow impossibly further. “You made me cum so fucking hard.”

You’re delighted to hear the whine he tries so hard to hide. “I— I panicked,” he admits. “You almost made me cum.”

Looking down, you see his cock twitching viscously, like he’s about to blow any second. “Aw, baby.”

You grab his length and start stroking him in your fist — the twist and pump of your fist making him choke and sputter. “Buttercup— What are you— What are you doin’?

“Go on,” you urge him, squeezing his thick cock at the base, and twisting on the pull upwards. “Cum on me.”

“I—” Bucky shakes his head rapidly. “No— I can’t do that — Fuck this feels too good — Can’t finish on you—”

“Bucky,” you gently interrupt him. “I’m telling you that you can.”

But he shakes his head again, trying to hold out. “Fuck, fuck — Oh, fuck — Baby I can’t please, I—”

You click your tongue and tighten your hand around his cock, pumping him harder faster, a spark in your veins and mischief on your mind. “Why not, hm? I need it — Don’t you want to give me what I need?”

“Bee—” he pleads. “Don’t do this to me.”

Though his words say one thing, the way Bucky thrusts into your fist tells you another — he’s dying to cum, the throb of his cock in time with his rabbiting pulse.

You refuse to have him holding back because the voice in his head is sabotaging his pleasure.

“Please, baby,” you beg of him, blinking your eyes and reeling him in on your invisible line. “I want it. Give it to me.”

Bucky bows his head, the curtain of his hair concealing his blown-out eyes. There’s a heavy sigh of defeat from his lips. “Fuck, Bee— What the hell are you doin’ to me?”

Biting your lip, you move the fingers of your free hand up the back of his sweaty neck to thread them through the hair at the base of his neck, and you pull him down to rest his forehead against yours. A wicked grin dances on your lips. “I’m gonna make you cum for me.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you speed up the pace, taking care to focus the pressure of your grip around the head of his cock.

“Oh—” Bucky chokes on his own spit, his toes curling while his hips work in tandem with the pumps from your fist.

“That’s it, Pup,” you murmur delicately, scraping your fingers over his scalp. “There’s a good boy.”

“Feels like fuckin’ heaven,” he slurs, whining as he seeks out your lips. “S’close, baby.”

You direct him, pulling him impossibly closer to slot your lips over his; tongue and teeth caressing with little finesse. “Give me it, Bucky — Please.” The words fall against his parted mouth.

“Gonna—“ The excitement for his climax builds when you feel his cock swell in your hand, the violent twitches of his mounting release. “Gonna cum, B— Buttercup.”

Lighting a fire to the match begging to burn, you tug his hair back in your fist, the grip tight and unyielding to bare his neck in an arch. The skin of his throat is damp with sweat, and the thunder of his pulse can be seen next to the frantic bob of his Adam’s apple. “Let go — Let go for me.” You lap at the sensitive skin with your tongue. “Make a mess of me with your big cock.”

The long wait, the weeks leading up to this very moment are entirely worth it when Bucky collapses onto you, his moans unending and agonisingly pleasureful. His hips stutter and thrust with no real rhythm while his cum shoots from the swollen head of his cock, painting your bare skin all the way up to your tits.

His release seems to never end, it pools over your stomach with no signs of slowing down.

Bucky trembles with the waves of pleasure, and he buries his face into your neck, nuzzling you to try and retreat from the nonstop sensation of release. Against the sheets, you can feel the way they rustle as his toes curl — the taut line of his shoulders makes him feel bigger while he shivers and jerks over you.

“Buttercup.” His palms frantically feel over your skin. “It won’t— Fuck — It’s not s—stopping.”

“Shhh,” you instantly soothe him, running your fingers through his hair and holding him close to you while you continue to pump your fist gently, milking him for all he’s got. “Almost there, Puppy — let it all go.”

Bucky sobs into your neck as the last few drops leak from his tip, and the pretty sounds of his moans vibrate against your chest. “Oh my god.”

“So fuckin’ good for me — Did so well, my sweet boy.”

Finally, his cock stops pulsating and begins to slowly soften in your hand. As carefully as possible, you remove your hand and smooth it over the heated skin of his waist. “Take it easy for me, baby,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss against his tear-stained cheek. “Remember to breathe.”

Bucky’s limbs loosen with the lull of your voice, and he eases his body down onto yours, letting you take his weight.

The two of you lay peacefully connected together, only your shared breathing to fill the quiet of your room. The needle on your vinyl long since raised, the song finishing with a gentle lull while you were wholly focused on him — much like the simmering high that had been building since your first kiss.

You are loath to interrupt the peace, but his heavy breathing told you that you will lose him to sleep any second now. “Bucky baby?”

When the rumble of his muffled, “Mhm,” tells you he’s returned back to you, you smile contentedly. “Do you think you’re able to let me clean you up now, hm?”

It's difficult to not laugh at the way he clings to you, tightening his hold and groaning, “No leavin’ me.” You smother the growing smirk creeping up your face.

The palms of your hands rub up and down his back, and you kiss the top of his head. “I’ll be quick, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sighs, much like a tired puppy, and begrudgingly slackens his arms and carefully lifts up off of you, rolling onto the bed next to you. “Hurry back, please.” The slight whine to his voice melts your heart.

“Thank you, baby.” You quickly shuffle off the bed, placing your feet on the floor. “I’ll be right back.” The floor creaks under your feet, and you rise from the edge of the bed, only, you overcompensate your judgement to hold your own weight so soon — the tremble of your thighs and weakness of your knees almost has you toppling to the floor. “Oh, boy.”

A snort of laughter sounds from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to find a dazed, smirking Bucky. “I did that to you,” he gloats drunkenly.

Your eyes widen in shock before you giggle along with him. “The cheek of you.”

Taking slow steps, you manage to make your way into your bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. You take the time to clean yourself up while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, smiling like an idiot to yourself and rebuffing the urge to squeal.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, your keen eyes catch the subtle peek Bucky makes through the mess of his hair, the wandering of his gaze over your still naked body.

The blush that covers his cheeks and neck when he sees that you have caught him staring is endearing, when only moments ago he was inside of you, desperate and moaning for more.

To humour his shyness, you choose to pretend you didn’t see, and you make your way back to him. It is a true struggle to not give in to the twitching strain of the muscles in your thighs, or how your knees almost buckle from under you.

“Here we go, baby,” you sigh happily, both from seeing his soft smile and how you made it to the plush mattress without falling over.

The warm cloth in your hand goes ignored by Bucky in favour of wrapping his arms around your middle, and he pulls you backwards into the covers until you are propped up on one side of your bed.

You hum warmly while wiping the mess of Bucky’s lower stomach, though you pause when you hover, uncertain, over his softened cock. “Am I okay to clean you up, baby?”

Looking up at you with his puppy eyes, he nods sleepily. “You’re okay, Bee.”

Taking care to be gentle, you wipe his most sensitive area and once satisfied, you toss the cloth towards the hamper of your room in favour of sideling up to Bucky. In the process, you turn onto your side and frame his face with your hands, waiting for his eyes to focus on you before asking, “How are we doing, handsome?”

The sound of his small laugh couldn’t make you happier, and his pearly whites gleam with his bright smile. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Buttercup.”

You giggle, a little high from the comedown too. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

He groans deeply and licks his lips. “Absolutely.”

You shiver and swat his chest. “Don’t be looking at me like that, you menace.”

Bucky hums sweetly. “It was amazing— No, wait. It was better than that.” His eyebrows furrow in thought. “It was — Um— Can’t think of the word — Oh, I’ve got it! Astronomical.”

Exhaustion is beginning to kick in for him, the very last dregs of his energy is being used to be a comedic clown — you fall for him even more.

A sudden, hesitant doubt creeps into his eyes, the need for reassurance coming forth. “Was it—” He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Was it okay for you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo. The sheets underneath your body rustle as you lay down more comfortably, and you guide his head to lay on your chest, over your heart. “It was perfect — you were perfect.” Kissing the top of his head, you drive his worries away. “Trust me when I say it was fucking incredible.”

The tenseness of his muscles begins to ease away. “Thank you…” Bucky hesitates, then moves even closer to you — once he is close enough for his liking, he angles his head up to blink at you dazedly. The emotion in his voice makes it waver when he says, “Thank you for taking care a’me.”

“Always, my sweet boy.” You look down, watching his eyes droop. “It’s all I ever want to do.”

“You’re so amazing, Buttercup,” he exhales blissfully. “So lucky to have you.”

Your heart beats out of your chest. “I feel the exact same way.” Unsure you could handle any more of his sweetness, you mumble, “Now get some sleep, Puppy.”

“Hmph — Fine.” He gives in, finally closing his eyes. “G’night, my Bee.”

Resting your head on your pillow, you brush your finger over his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes while you sigh contentedly. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

Warmth floods your heart and a happiness like no other fills your bones, making you glow from the inside out. You’re not sure this night could be any better, and with that thought, you know you’ll rest easy tonight with the man of your dreams huddled in your arms.

On the verge of surrendering to sleep, the quiet of the night is disrupted by Bucky's sleepy mumble, “I loves you.”

Your eyes shoot back open, and you instantly look down, finding your boyfriend’s cheek squished against your breast with a little bit of drool gathering in the corner of his parted lips.

“Bucky?” you whisper, the quick thump of your heart stealing your breath. There isn’t a response, not even a twitch of acknowledgement. With more urgency, you whisper, “Bucky?”

This time you get a small, soft snore in reply.

You lay your head back down onto your pillow to stare up at the ceiling. The thoughts and doubts swirl viciously, the intensity of each and every one making you gulp, though one stands out among the rest: did he just confess his love for me?

There was the possibility of you hearing things — the comedown of the high you’ve been floating on messing with your head.

It’s not long before all of the day’s events catch up with you. The slowing blinks of your eyelids lasting longer and longer each time; the laxness of your muscles as they settle in for a much-needed sleep. But the question on your mind bears a heavy weight while you succumb to sleep.

Does Bucky love me?

The rays of the morning sun shining through the white drapes either side of your window are the first thing you become aware of as you wake up the next morning. With your eyes closed, you can see the yellow and amber glow of the sunrise.

A strong envelopment of warmth and comfort keeps you rooted in place, as well as the heavy weight of an arm across your middle. You don’t want to move from your spot, you don’t want to wake up yet; still basking in the afterglow of yesterday’s events.

But the second sensation, the mantra of light fingertips mapping over your face tips the balance of sleep overtaking you in favour of letting your consciousness creep to the surface.

Lastly, the final push, the soft, steady puffs of air tickling your nose persuades you to wave your white flag and flutter your eyes open.

The blurriness of sleep forces you to blink until the fog clears your vision — once you’re able to see the dancing, warm light of the sun, you’re given the gift of your handsome boyfriend, already awake, admiring you with his bright blue ocean eyes.

They’re the most clear they have ever been.

The lined skin besides his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the pull of it making his nose scrunch adorably. “Bee,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep. “Good mornin’.”

It's a damn killer, the expression of his face — full of true elation and contentment, and it has you falling in love all over again.

That’s when it hits you — the memory of last night, and what you think you heard him say when he was half asleep.

Trepidation makes your nerves impossible to conceal, especially when Bucky is noticing every minute expression on your face. It's only a matter of time before the natural courage, granted to you with the haze of the morning, fades away.

With a heavy gulp, you open your mouth and lick your lips. “Did, uh— Did you—?” The words die on your tongue.

Bucky’s thumb gently presses against your lips, his head gently shaking from side to side — a secret he wishes to keep just between the two of you, not shared with the birds that sing outside your window or the rays of the hopeful morning sun.

Your eyes are wide, beginning to water with the anxiety coiling inside your chest.

The crippling worry, however, dissolves when Bucky runs the pad of his thumb over your lips, the motion of back and forth touch grounding you. His eyes find their home deep into yours, and he finally speaks, “I love you.”

And it’s with an ease, one that has you cursing your inner voice for ever doubting yourself, you say those three words that battled to be said so, so long ago. “I love you, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #new tricks masterlist #new tricks #sebstanwhore

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celestie0 · 3 months

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together.

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made.

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now.

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him.

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance.

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you.

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction.

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.”

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene.

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt.

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow.

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear.

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either.

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say.

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed.

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease.

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again.

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible.

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve.

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again.

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe.

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then?

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further.

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips.

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses.

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,” you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like.

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.”

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood.

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired.

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity.

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills.

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read.

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?”

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says.

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match.

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it.

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball.

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by.

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion.

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you.

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus.

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder.

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM.

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds.

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words.

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised.

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks.

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy.

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again.

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.”

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.”

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away.

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you.

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still.

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.”

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you.

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes.

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes.

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.”

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift.

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.”

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly.

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?”

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.”

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head.

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code.

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again.

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t.

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand.

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it.

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over.

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod.

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts.

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three.

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly.

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively.

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar.

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru.

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

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alatusprinz · 1 year

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trivial things they do that make you fall in love all over again

genre : fluff ( modern au, committed relationships? )

characters : xiao , cyno, kaedehara kazuha , tighnari , scaramouche x f!reader

albedo takes care of you in ways you never knew you needed. your powerbank, airpods or phone is never out of battery because he charges them when you're in the shower or sleeping. he can guess what you want for dinner from the way you're texting, and often has exactly what you've been craving for before you ever told him what you wanted to eat. he restocks everything in your home before anything ever runs out. takes and edits THE BEST insta-worthy pictures of you, everyone wonders if you hired a professional now. brings you your favorite snack and/or drink every time he goes to the convenience store because he is just so smitten he can't spend a minute without thinking about you. remembers your birthday, the date of the day you two first held hands, kissed and everything, the dates are engraved into his memory and he does mini-celebrations every single year no matter how much time has passed. sometimes, he comes behind you when you're busy with work and starts brushing your hair, and maybe braid them if you'd let him. he's amazingly good at styling your hair, then when he's done, he'll kiss you on the top of your head and whisper how beautiful you are, the most breathtaking person to walk this world.

tighnari, after being with you for a while, can read you like an open book. just as you're about to leave the house, he'll remind you something you were about to forget just now. he knows when you've had a bad day from the way you close the door, so he's bringing you a cup of tea and pulling you in a gentle hug without a single word needed. he knows exactly what you're thinking, too much to the point where you two say so many words at the same time. the longer he spends time with you, the more he finds himself syncing to your mannerisms- and frankly, he loves it. when you accidentally fall asleep while waiting for him to finalize his work, he'll gently cover you with a blanket (and if you wear glasses, he'll take them off gently and put them next to you with a kiss on your forehead.) he may not verbalize it often but you have him completely wrapped around your finger, he can't go through his day without searching for your presence every corner he turns. also, he would never let you go to sleep with tears in your eyes, no. over his dead body. no matter how bad the argument would be, tighnari would make sure you two were at least on surface-level understanding before comforting and apologizing to you before going to sleep with a gentle promise of discussing it again when you're both more rational tomorrow. grows different types of flowers and names them after you. tugs them behind your ear when they grow and bloom.

kazuha spoils you without explicitly meaning it. always lets you have the aux in his car and if he's playing music, always has your new favorite songs saved in his playlist so you two can both enjoy. he carries an extra set of mittens and scarf for you in case you're cold every single time you two go out on a date in winter. brings you peeled/sliced fruit when you're working and sometimes feeds them to you if you're too busy. when he's waking you up from your nap, he kneels next to the bed and kisses your cheeks and forehead while gently whispering sweet nothings until you're awake instead of leaning over. on a snowy winter day, he'll draw a heart in front of your window by his footprints on the fresh snow and call you over to make you see the giant (kind of unshapely) heart. still opens every single door for you after years and years of being together. buys you flowers and heartfelt gifts without ever needing a reason to because you being in his life is the greatest joy he has ever experienced. and if marriage is something you want, even after marriage, kazuha will never stop calling you endearments, saying i love you every day, and take you out on a date once a week at the very least. will gladly freeze for the night if you hog the blanket accidentally, and when you fall asleep while hugging his arm, he'd adore how cute you look while sleeping and gladly ignore/forget about his arm going numb because he doesn't have the heart to move you while you're sleeping.

scaramouche's affection is so lowkey that you need to pay attention if you want to notice. he always lets you walk on the inside of the sidewalk. he covers sharp corners of the table when you lean down. he gets you that concert ticket that's sold out within seconds somehow and leaves them in one of your lecture notes for you to find out yourself ( and has one for himself too, half to annoy you and half because he secretly loves seeing how happy you look at that concert). flicks your forehead every time when you start talking bad things about yourself in attempt to soothe your insecurities. argues with you about you "stealing his hoodies/sweatshirts" all the time but it's him who leaves them in your room secretly when you aren't looking, then claim he "forgot it" just because he loves seeing you in his clothes. once fought a guy who was trying to buy the last piece of snack you liked at a convenience store and successfully brought you the snacks- you never found out what happened to the other dude. he pauses the netflix whenever you leave the room even for 2 seconds. steals your jewelry sometimes (because it reminds him of you throughout the day), and dresses so well to the point he looks better in it than you do.

xiao, if you pay enough attention, shows every second of the day how smitten he is for you already. he texts you good morning the second he wakes up, and the last one to say good night. sends you random memes and cute pictures of animals and tag you with "looks like you" or if there's a picture of a cute animal couple, sometimes with "us." if you text him "my head kinda hurts ugh", he'll leave you on read for 20 minutes and by the time you're wondering what he's doing, you'll see him knocking at your door with painkillers, homemade stew, and a slice of cake he knows you like. extremely light sleeper so when you sleep together and you can't sleep or you're having a nightmare, he wakes up immediately and comforts you, shushing your tears away and hugging you, playing with your hair until you fall asleep. every time when he's coming over to your house, he has something he knows you like (a drink from your favorite cafe, your favorite desert, book or maybe a spare hoodie of his). brings you random pretty rocks and small stuffed dolls, pretty much everything he sees and reminds him of you- he will buy and give it as a present to you. knows you have like half his closet already but doesn't have the heart to ask for his clothes back because you seem so happy wearing them. sometimes calls you at midnight and takes you for a spontaneous motorcycle ride, and take you where the night view is the prettiest. wears that promise ring you got for him 3 years ago religiously every single day. talks to you how much he loves you and how much he wishes you'll stay by his side forever when he thinks you're sleeping (ps. you're not).

cyno, while he doesn't look like it, is the biggest simp if you see through his stoic exterior. he worships the ground you walk on, is willing to do nearly anything just to see you happy and healthy. he will listen to you talk and rant about things he has no idea about for hours or days if needed- not just listen passing-by, he never takes his eyes off you, and listens to every single word with great attention. he's also a living heater so he always warms up your freezing hands and feet without a single complaint. gives the best hugs, and he smells so good too, he will always be the comfort person you needed when you had nobody else to turn to. gives you his jacket even if it's minus 30 celsius outside and INSISTS he isn't cold, even if his nose is clearly turning red. carries the shopping bags for you even if you insist he doesn't need to, he really doesn't want to make you lift anything heavy. if you two order at a restaurant and you don't like your food, he'll gladly switch with yours with no complaints. instead, he'll have a soft, adoring smile when you have another bite from his dish and your eyes sparkle in excitement when you clearly like it better than yours. if you have any scars on your body, that's where he likes to kiss you the most. and he truly thinks the scar, or your entire body and soul is the most beautiful one he's ever encountered. will watch your comfort movie/series with you thousand times over without a single complaint just to see the smile on your face. has a custom-made hoodie that has the ugliest embroidery with a print that says "i love (y/n)" unironically and wears it around the house. not afraid to kiss and cuddle you even when you're sick and try to keep him away in case he catches it but he never listens, instead cuddles in even closer. when you two share a piece of food, he'll purposefully split it in like 6.5/3.5 and give you the bigger piece. oh and he says he'll love you even if you turn into a worm so, that's that.

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zepskies · 1 year

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Series Masterlist - Break Me Down

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

AN: For those of you who enjoyed “Checkerboard,” here’s the requested prequel series! It’s gonna be a long road to get to that version of Soldier Boy. Technically this is an AU set post-season 3.

Series Tags/Warnings: **Rated M. (18+ only.) Enemies to frenemies to lovers. Angsty, messy, moral quandaries galore. This is a romance, but it’s a dark world with morally gray and dark characters, including Soldier Boy, of course. **Smut, language, misogyny, violence, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read: The BMD Playlist

Chapters:

Prologue

Part 1 - The Game Begins

Part 2 - You Move Me, Baby

Part 3 - Somewhere Down Below

Part 4 - On the Inside Out

Part 5 - Morning, Night & Day

Part 6 - A Hot Meal

Part 7 - Until Midnight

Part 8 - Something in the Way

Part 9 - Breach

Part 10 - Caught in the Balance

Part 11 - The Lion's Den

Part 12 - All Your Wicked Ways

Part 13 - A Generous Deal

Part 14 - Safe House

Part 15 - The Tower

Part 16 - Soldier Boy

Part 17 - More Than Words Can Say

Epilogue - All My Living Time

Series Complete!

Did you like this series? If you'd like to keep supporting me as I continue the BMD-verse, here's a way to keep me caffeinated:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Read More In the BMD-Verse

Not done reading this version of Soldier Boy x Reader? Well, there's more to their story.

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

One-Shots:

In the Dark You and Ben have tackled the insurmountable together, but no one said the recovery would be easy.

Checkerboard** You’re not a supe. You’re breakable. Soldier Boy sometimes forgets that.

Love Actually** Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 - Complete

Wake Me Up** [MINI SERIES] - COMING MAY 5/03! A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, he is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

Strong As Blood** After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?

(In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

Part 1 || Part 2 - Complete

Until Morning A quiet moment between you, Ben, and your newborn daughter.

Green** Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

Calculated Risks You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

Imagines:

Getting jealous.** 💚 Ben needs new clothes, but the shop girls think your boyfriend is fair game.

Ben’s reaction to his girlfriend on her period.❣️ How he takes care of you.

Ben loses you. 💔 Includes a “twist” ending…

Talk to Me 💞 In the wake of his vivid nightmare, you confront Ben about his fears and get him to open up. [Sequel to “Ben loses you.”]

Moodboard below created by @chernayawidow:

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#soldier boy #the boys #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #the boys season 3 #the boys amazon #private investigator!reader #checkerboard prequel #dark romance #break me down #break me down masterlist #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #soldier boy fanfiction #the boy au #enemies to lovers #romance #zepskies writes

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sunboki · 6 months

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KOREA'S MOST WANTED (DEAD OR ALIVE) : SUNBOKI

🎥 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader ( with hints of other attraction ((mainly 3racha cause im a whore)) no poly )

TROPE. non-idol au, criminal! au, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut

WORD COUNT. 6.8k & 33 minute read

WARNINGS. smut, blood, guns/weapons, shoot-out, murder, mentions of drugs and poison, descriptive violence, suggestiveness, manipulation, death(not major characters), cursing

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. a weird spin to a not-quite mafia au but i love the lore.. enjoy. if you decide to read, feedback is always appreciated!!

SYNOPSIS. Eight notoriously wanted criminals work solo. They always have. Except when their dark work and concealed identities are put at risk, they find themselves with no other choice but to work together—and what better place to do so than the back fields of a house in the middle of nowhere? The location was ideal, until you open the doors of your grandparents barn and accidentally meet Korea’s most wanted.

or alternatively

In which stumbling in the wrong place at the wrong time leaves you face to face with some of the most-wanted criminals in all of South Korea.

CRIMINAL #0001 — BAHNG, CHRISTOPHER.

CRIMINAL RECORD

Christopher has been convicted of illegal weapon trafficking on eighteen counts of federal offenses. He is notoriously dangerous. Please proceed with caution.

⭑ REWARD

⎯ CRIMINAL FILES (additional cases)

The only thing illuminating your walk to the barn is your phone light and the hardly helpful moon peeking between heavy clouds.

You’ve done this a billion times, but tonight there’s just something ..unsettling. You can’t put your finger on it.

Shaking the thought from mind, you fiddle with the small lock hitched onto wide, dark red barn doors, untangling rusted chains like routine. That is, until you hear a sound. An unusual sound, an unnerving sound.

By that time you’d already pushed open the doors, and the weight of what sat in front of you—the weight of what was responsible for the sound—made you feel faint.

“Who.. Who are you people?”

Every October you visit your grandparents (or whenever your schedule isn’t jam-packed, but most often in October) when the leaves are deep orange and red, dappling gravel driveways and leaving the once abundant trees bare of their spring greenery.

The weather, though overcast in the autumn season, never stays gray for too long if you wake up early enough. Your grandpa taught you that, how to witness the early morning view before being covered by clouds.

On this occasion, however, you certainly didn’t plan on waking up early, especially not while rooming in your comfortable old bedroom.

Your grandparents house, despite being in the middle of nowhere, was so homey, so familiar. You’d be sure to soak up as much of this easiness as you could before returning back to life, savor the moments the best you could.

“Have you heard?” Your grandmother utters, fingers expertly dicing fruits, gaze glued to the TV.

“Grandma, I just got here, so no I haven’t heard anything,” You laugh, dragging your luggage through the hallway while the drone of the latest news feature serves as background noise. Probably another celebrity split-up, you assume.

Surely, considering the stubborn woman’s frantic waving once you come back into the living room, beckoning you to watch with her.

“Look! They’re wrecking havoc everywhere recently. Folks are calling them ‘Korea’s most wanted.’” Shaking her head repeatedly, she points at the screen displaying a churned building left to nothing but ash.

You hum absentmindedly, listening to the reporter talk.

“Using the title the media has given, this building, once a printing firm, has been dissolved into ashes overnight. The attack is said to have been the doing of ‘The Arsonist’, a member of one of the most wanted people on the radar…”

“If you run into one of them,” Having completely forgotten about the other presence in the room, you flinch. “Call your Grandma, I’ll swat ‘em over the head with my shovel.”

Gesturing with an imaginary shovel in hand, you can’t help but laugh at her silliness, quickly shaking the lingering thought away.

Korea’s most wanted here? Here’s probably the last place they’d show up, too busy massacring the big cities to care about this old house.

Resorting to scurrying onto a kitchen stool, you fill in the nosy old lady on what life has been like, how work has been treating you, and all the other nosy questions your grandmother thinks up slicing apples.

By the time you look out the window, the sky is almost fully dark, until a sudden flash of headlights tells the household grandpa’s back from work, hopping from his rickety blue pickup truck to greet you.

There’s a smile gracing his wrinkled features, regarding you like you were still eight years old. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, everyone listens. Similarly, when he tells you he loves you—something he barely does—the moment, whatever it may be, is special.

Settling in for the night, you help wash dishes and insist the stoic woman takes a seat before she breaks her back leaning over the sink, which she rolls her eyes and ignores no less.

Not like you expected anything else, she’d wash these dishes till the end of time knowing her.

“Y/n, dear, would you mind making sure the barn lamp is shut off? I’m worried it’ll catch fire if I forget.”

Speaking of the end of time, you hadn’t stepped foot in the barn in what felt to be decades, too occupied with the house and town to remember that ramshackle building outside.

Of course you said yes, deciding this was a prime opportunity to not forget in the process of slipping on a sweater to help battle the cold, approaching the barely visible building.

You think you hear someone talking but choose to ignore it, pretending it was the wind or something along those lines. It’s autumn and you’re plenty far away from suburban areas, so most likely an animal lie responsible.

That was, until you pry open the barn doors.

Immediately, a stranger with cat-like features has a serrated dagger held to your throat.

Closing your eyes instinctively, you wait to feel the cold metal breaking skin, hesitantly cracking open an eye to meet the attacker’s chilling stare boring into the side of your face.

He takes a few seconds to exchanges glances with another in the dimly lit space then back to your stock-still frame. Briefly, you feel your phone get pulled from your pocket but don’t budge, worried one wrong movement would automatically have the cold metal slitting your throat.

“Walk. Make the slightest move and nobody finds your body, understood?”

Shakily, you nod, feebly inching forward before getting shoved onto the container your grandpa kept extra tools in, splinters piercing the back of your thighs.

Wonderingly, your eyes flicker to each stranger surrounding you. Counting eight in total, some taller, some shorter, you gulp, outnumbered by a large margin you’re sure would be nearly impossible trying to escape from.

Without exchanging a word, one of the shorter, more muscular men steps forward, seeming to inspect you. His rough grip finds your chin, jerking your head from side to side then up to meet his honeyed brown eyes. They’re surprisingly kind compared to his demeanor.

“She’s pretty. Might earn us a good penny if you want, Bahng. Ain’t that right, sweetheart?” Cocking his brows, you swiftly rip your head out of his hand, wrinkling your nose with disgust.

A frothing dread fills your gut, and you think for a moment letting that man with the dagger kill you off would’ve been a better doom.

“Hands off, Bin. If we wanted to get a price we need her to be in good condition.” A voice from behind this so-called “Bin” responds, and you feel the overwhelming urge to hurl.

They’re talking about selling you, like you’re not even human. A pretty porcelain object available at their disposal.

Good condition? You feel sick. You can’t see the man who replied, but you doubt it’d make your gut feel any more uncomfortable.

“Aw c’mon guys,” Another voice you finally spot to your right interjects, sporting chubbier cheeks and appearing quite out of place in this group. “You’re scaring her, go easy.”

Bin scoffs. “Should she be comfortable? We’re gonna kill her anyway, Jisung. Right, Bahng?”

God. Who is this Bahng guy that’s apparently in charge and why does “Bin” want you dead so badly? Didn’t he just call you pretty, or were you blacking out?

“..Right, Bahng?”

Bin falters, backing up as the face belonging to “Bahng” ushers him to the side.

Bahng, at least in the scarce lighting, is scarily handsome. Dyed hair nearly an auburn shade, a strong jaw, and calculating, dusky brown eyes that appear equally as kind as Bin’s.

You’ve learned to not trust the deceit.

Suddenly, a thought strikes.

Any minute now your grandparents will realize how long you’ve been gone and start to worry.

Your heart drops.

No. Don’t come here, stay in the house. No no no no.

Automatically, words stumble out of your mouth.

“Please- kill me, sell me, I don’t care. My grandparents- they’re gonna come here, I can’t have them here. If they find me here I... Please.” Chest rising and falling unevenly, you continuously glance at the door.

Waiting, waiting.

“Please spare them. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t make any expression apparent on that handsome face of his. Observing.

You’re a spectacle, an interesting one at that.

“And if I spare you, what do I get in return, hm?”

You’re caught off guard.

In return? What does he mean in return?

Think. Think. What the hell could someone like him want? He has enough money, you’re sure.

Fine. Make it broad.

“Anything. Anything, I promise.” Pleading, you anxiously shuffling atop the box, swearing to have heard the sound of moving outside. Somewhere behind the two of you someone chokes a laugh. You can’t find it in yourself to care.

Poking his tongue into his cheek thoughtfully, he eventually signals to the others before you’re being escorted through the back door by a not-so gentle Bin and a very much apologetic Jisung, sparing a glance back to the home you’d only seen for one day.

And if what Bin said about killing you was true, you wonder if you’ll ever see it again.

.. .

Ducking into one of the two cars parked directly behind the barn, you’re assigned the passenger seat, accompanied by Bahng who’s driving, Jisung, and a long-haired boy sitting beside him in the backseat.

They’re all strikingly beautiful opposed to the blood you’re sure has stained their hands, especially the one next to Jisung with features resembling that of a prince. Everything about him seems too elegant to do any harm. You know that’s a lie.

Mapping out your surroundings, you shuffle in the leather seat, waiting until all three men get situated to slam the door ajar and run. Second instinct, no thoughts, just survival.

You run, run and run as fast as you can while the thump of shoes echo behind you. Far away, you have to get away. Get away get away get aw— a force slams into you from behind and you go toppling down.

Gasping as the air mercilessly ripped from your lungs returns, your vision adjusts, squirming thanks to the identity keeping you still. Bahng has you trapped below him, breath labored, effortlessly intimidating.

“Let— go of me!” You yell, voice betraying the utter desperation overtaking every fiber of your being.

He holds you down, meeting your eyes without fail as you struggle and shout. Shouting and screaming so loud into the darkness in fact, that the man finally covers your mouth with a hand as you tremble, watery gaze fixated on his. Burning, venomous hatred.

“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, sweetness. So you either walk back to the car or I go through things the hard way. What will it be?”

He thumbs the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead, hand finally pulling off your mouth.

Hypocrite.

“Fuck you.” You spit, and the man’s brows lift, lips pulled into an amused smile as he wipes his cheek.

“Hard way it is.”

Instantaneously, you’re hauled over his shoulder, not straining a bit despite the incessant kicking and pounding of your fists against his shoulder.

And just to prove how much he wholeheartedly deserved that fuck you, he made sure to lock the vehicle twice right in front of your face, receiving an equally as distasteful glare through the windshield in return.

The car ride was quiet, only interrupted by him asking if the air was too cold which you responded to with the middle finger. Jisung giggled.

Wee hours of morning peer through thick clouds, the road briefly illuminated by your headlights, corn stalks for miles lining either side. A barely palpable trace of life noticeable in a church’s steeple in the distance—once stark white, now stained and evidently aged.

Looking in the mirror, you locate the other vehicle tailing, assumed to be carrying the additional boys. Considering where your lone source of communication may be hidden (a.k.a your phone), you strain trying to spot it in your peripheral.

No use. Just you and this shit-hole of a situation.

Either way, what would you even say? “Please help me I’ve been kidnapped by eight of Korea’s most wanted criminals”? Yeah, they’ll definitely believe that.

There’s a hum from the prince-like man.

“This is the perfect place for a murder,” He speaks so nonchalantly, as if he referred to the weather and not killing someone.

Chills spread along your arms.

Jisung chuckles. “You’re right, no traces at all. Either way, even if someone did find them they’d likely already be rotten.”

You’re nauseous.

“Say, do you know how long it takes for a body to rot out here?” He asks, and your dizziness keeps you from realizing he’s referring to you, stomach threatening to spill all of its contents any second now.

And they expect you to know that?

Your silence leads to Jisung earning a smack from his backseat companion, scolding him hushedly.

Bahng stays quiet, one hand holding the wheel and the other splayed on the center console. Occasionally though you’ll see his eyes flit elsewhere, or maybe it’s your imagination.

Car eventually falling mute with a few passengers sleeping, you get close to doing the same before the harsh jerk of the car stirs everyone wide awake, clutching onto their seats.

You’d swerved into a small expanse of corn, wheels crushing the crops beneath them. Instantly the three reach under their seats, instinctively grabbing out pistols and pushing open the doors slowly, bodies crouched low.

Preparing to hide to the best of your ability, a hand on your arm keeps your movement at bay, discovered to belong to Bahng.

“Just keep in mind what Jisung said, by the time anyone finds you you’ll be rotted, pretty thing.” He sends you a sickeningly sweet smile, cocking the hammer of his gun and disappearing out the door where you hear someone shout: “I fucking knew we were being followed!” Prior to the loud ricochet of bullets being fired.

You duck down in the passenger seat, attempting to be as small and forgettable as possible out of sight. That is until a gunshot strikes the side of the car, narrowly bypassing where you’re curled up on the floorboard.

An involuntary scream escapes you, and your palm clamps over your mouth, shuddering and shaking like a leaf.

It’s a natural reaction, shrinking away, too horrified to act. So when your door is violently swung open, you prepare for the worst before recognizing Bin’s face, who legitimately rips you from the seat and drags you away.

Stopping beside a minimal clearing, you observe he isn’t carrying a weapon of any kind, a factor that makes your hopes slightly plummet. Granted, it’s not that you don’t think he’d be capable of defending himself (and you), but his fists against a gun didn’t sound too promising.

Swiftly instructed to not move, he races off, effectively tackling a man to the ground and leaving a pool of blood seeping where he lay.

Except, Bin abruptly evades your vision, leaving you to notice the prince-like boy in his stead, waving his arms and yelling something you strain to recognize.

“Behind you!” He had been shouting.

Your soul fills with dread.

In an instant you brace for impact, ears picking up the whirring of an object against the wind before the crack of a bat makes contact with your attackers head. The man goes down like a sack of bricks.

Bin, holding a nail embedded baseball bat propped on his shoulder, appeared just on time.

He had a streak of blood smeared across his cheek which you guessed belonged to someone else, and his knuckles lay bruised and torn despite the massive shit-eating grin slapped on his face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough despite never looking more alive. It’s terrifying.

Shaken, you give yourself a once over, hurriedly shaking your head. He barks a laugh.

Gunshots eventually dying off, the nine of you regroup, some suffering minor injuries and others standing untouched.

Among them, the dagger-wielding criminal is one of the untouched. You’re not surprised.

Jisung is cussing wildly, leg ripped up pretty bad while leant against said dagger-wielding criminal, sending his counterpart a sour glare.

“Those motherfuckin’ assholes need ‘ta learn some fuckin’ manners..” Jisung spews curses, lips pulled up in a sneer as the others help him into the bullet-embedded car.

Reversing out of the densely packed foliage, no one dares say a word the entire rest of the drive, preoccupied with going back to their interrupted sleep or blankly gazing into the night.

The destination, appearing to be a company building by its exterior (and the lack of daylight), easily averages the size of an extreme warehouse. You curve into an enormous parking garage, every other space occupied by some multimillion dollar sports car.

Upon walking inside though, you’re left in the main entrance with Jisung while the remainder slip into a separate room.

His leg is bandaged thanks to “Jeongin”, whom, after briefly seeing them in brighter lighting, you guess is the youngest-looking one. Light hair and a smile you’re certain breaks all law-breaking guidelines.

Arrangement of chairs mimicking that of a doctor’s office, you guess the decorum is used to disguise what actually goes on here.

Clearing your throat, you debate on speaking about the question burning a hole through your skull.

“Why do you want me to live?”

Managing to haul himself backwards on a chair, Jisung shrugs.

“Why not? It’d be fun having someone other than those boneheads around.”

Typical Jisung reaction, you assume. This is the same dude bringing up murder like it’s a daily occurrence after all.

“Plus, we’re normally workin’ solo. Some circumstances forced us to work together.” He absentmindedly waved, and you bite the urge to ask about these so-called “circumstances”.

With Jisung, you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or serious. You have a feeling asking him about it though would only lead to a response along the lines of: “Hey, it adds to the fun, right?” as if murder was a leisurely hobby.

You can’t help but feel baffled with how casually he talks about the additional men. Friends, as if they’re friends. Not like they would be, Jisung said it himself, “circumstances” pulled them together.

However, the danger they’d pose working as a team would be unreal. You didn’t even want to consider the possibility.

Goosebumps crawl upon your forearms.

"Y’know, I used to protect people like you." Han Jisung, whom you now recognized as The Arsonist, tilted his head to the side when he said that.

Strikingly beautiful, just like the others. Soft, round cheeks. Dark, soulful eyes and pursed, puffy lips.

You recall your grandmother telling you some of the prettiest flowers carry the most poison. Now it makes sense.

Blinking, you choose your words rather carefully.

This man, the one who upon first glance looks like he couldn’t harm a fly, burned down a printing firm yesterday. The same man alongside seven other notorious criminals discussing your fate.

Korea’s most wanted.

“Why’d you stop? Protecting people, I mean.” Coming out mumbled, you watch him click his tongue and change posture, not phased whatsoever.

It was a genuine question, considering whatever job he had before —if it came down to protecting— seemed to be something linked to the law. Unusual, for a criminal or his level.

“I got bored,” He yawned, lower lip jutting out.

Talk about a juxtaposition to his psychotic tendencies.

Bored. Han Jisung, The Arsonist, got bored of being a good guy.

It gave you a whole new perspective to insane.

“..You ask a bunch of questions, huh. I guess that makes sense since you might die- no! Not die- well, I’m not sure but- you’ll be fine!”

Wow Jisung. You seriously suck at convincing.

Oh how you wish your grandma would appear with her shovel right about now. Scratch that, you wish she would’ve swatted them over the head much earlier than now.

“Alright, but where will we keep her while Bahng decides on the cover up?” The seven go quiet, and if it wasn’t for the whirring of a fan overhead you would’ve guessed they were telepathically communicating, few sparing hasty glances at each other, waiting for someone to speak up.

Changbin was the one who asked, but he didn’t continue, nor even meet Bahng’s eyes despite his normal, boisterous behavior.

If there was one person they all had a running respect (and fear) of, it would be Bahng. He’d brought up the idea of working together, and he’d be the one leading in result.

Freckle Boy (the name The Hitman had came up with before learning Felix’s’ name) opens his mouth.

“I can—“

“She’ll stay with me.” Bahng interjects, and no one lifts a finger.

Changbin sees the blond’s pinched expression through his peripheral.

“But I have an extra—“

“You heard me, Felix. She stays with me,” He sternly repeats, and the younger deflates, mumbling something to himself after Hyunjin sends him a reassuring nod.

The atmosphere eased up slightly opposed to how suffocating it had been earlier, enough to where the men occupying their individual chairs took deep breaths of air they hadn’t know they’d been holding.

The door opens and they disperse in different directions while Bahng lags behind, speaking to Jeongin about something hushed.

You, on the other hand, are greeted with a rather sympathetic smile from the blond, telling you whatever they talked about wasn’t good.

From your right, Bin clears his throat, effectively giving you an unprecedented heart-attack.

“For the record, we weren’t planning to sell you.”

A grin grows on your face, taking this sweeter opportunity to pick some fun. You’re stuck here anyway, right?

“We weren’t? I think you were.”

He huffs, crossing muscular arms over his chest stubbornly. Behind him, a neighboring coffee-haired man snickers, earning Bin’s slap on the shoulder and a quiet “Yah.. Seungmin..” That completely sabotage any chance of taking him seriously.

“..I wasn’t.”

Mhm, definitely. Like the tips of his ears weren’t blood red.

The whiplash you’re getting from being treated you like a rag doll earlier becomes quite ironic.

Wasting time incessantly teasing the man, it’s not until he’s lead off by Bahng that you quiet down, awkwardly shifting your weight to either heel.

“..So?” You interrupt the silence, only given a jerk of Bahng’s head as a signal to follow. Talk about vague.

Overflowing with endless questions, he finally stops and turns to you, brows furrowed.

Attractive. My god he’s attractive.

“Would you just tell me where we’re-“You’re staying in my room for the time being.”

To say you felt shocked barely brushed the surface of your internal wasp nest, endlessly buzzing and swarming. His room? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“I mean,” He notes, looking amused now. “Unless you plan on staying in the other rooms with cameras and giving security a show then—“

“Fine.”

Sending you a smug grin, it’s hard not feeling bewildered as he rounds a corner, revealing one, the fact that he has literal guards standing on either side of the double doors, and two, that his “room” is the short story of a penthouse.

Wow.

.. .

Turning off the ignition, Changbin stuffs the keys in his pocket upon slipping inside, scrunching his nose at the sight before him.

“Fuck dude, you’re a tank.” The man groans, eyeing Chris who’s currently doing handstand push-ups on wooden parallettes.

When Chris is nowhere to be found, he’s here, hidden away in this partially abandoned gymnastics studio on the outskirts of Incheon. Small, though with all materials intact.

Occasionally teenagers would come roaming around, having heard of hauntings and gruesome murders they want to stick their noses in. It’s plausible, sure, the murder part at least.

Changbin didn’t believe in hauntings, because no horrific spirit ever dared deter him from enjoying his job, over and over. He didn’t have remorse, he didn’t feel.

Life was easier that way, without emotion driving your decisions.

In fact, he can’t recall the last time being a hitman scared him. Call it crazy, but if you think about it in terms of “eliminating those that shouldn’t be there”, he’s doing the world a favor.

He wouldn’t tell Bahng that for many reasons.

“And your mouth is still as bad as usual.” The older says through gritted teeth, slowly lowering his legs, coated in a sheen of sweat that greasily muss strands of hair.

He barks a laugh. “‘Can’t fix it.”

“That’s for sure,” Chris responds, grabbing the towel The Hitman held out with a thankful pat on the back.

Arranging the equipment back into its designated places, Changbin leans against the doorframe, brows lifted curiously.

“She’s sleeping, if you’re wondering.”

Telepathically, the man answers his unspoken question, referring to you who he imagines is prettily slumped in Chris’ bed.

Prettily. Did he say prettily?

Forget it.

Unknown to both your name and whereabouts, you begrudgingly pull the comforter closer over your head, successfully blocking the sunlight for a few more minutes of sleep. Your entire body is sore, and a numbing buzz has settled in your head, drowning out any cognitive ability to think.

Well, the extra time is amazing until your bladder decides to sabotage you.

Blindly blundering off the mattress, you idly navigate around, blinking a foggy haze from your vision.

Step, step, and then thump! You slam right into something—someone.

Finally granted a clear view, you swear your brain short-circuited.

It’s Bahng, staring down at you with a towel wrapped around his neck while water droplets cling to his skin—to his chest—that you notice is quite bare at the moment.

“Christ— Jesus—“ Slapping a hand over your eyes, you take multiple strides backwards, feet stumbling prior to hands grasping your wrists.

Easing you up right, he kindly leads your sleep-consumed form into the bathroom, big hands momentarily maneuvering your hips to the side on his way out.

Effectively stalling his movements, you silently drag him back closer to you, thumbs reaching up to smoothing his deep eye-bags.

He freezes, words he planned to say cut off.

His eyelids flutter shut in contentment, and in those tender seconds, you stand there, palms delicately cupping his cheeks, relaxing the hard lines of his face whilst steam gives the mirror a bleary cast.

Any other situation and you would’ve admitted yourself into a psych ward, but the alarm clock on his nightstand reading 7:18AM told you whatever you did next was all a lucid dream.

“You don’t sleep much.. do you?” Softly mumbling, he hums against your touch, own hand holding yours against his face.

Bahng cracks a barely there smile.

“Hard sleeping when the world’s after you,” He comments, remark laced with humorless hilarity. You can’t say you disagree.

Although, most good things—all good things—end far too quickly. Because when Changbin bursts through the door, voice choked in his throat, you hesitate your movements.

“.. Just uh, wanted to say the car’s waiting- I mean, the car’s ready for you. Yeah. Bye.” Awkwardly shuffling, he made a direct beeline for the door.

Never in your life did you expect a Hitman to be so awkward. And not just a Hitman, thee Hitman, Bin. Who, although you’d never say it to his face, definitely stuttered.

Unfortunately forced to separate, you’re handed one of his jackets once you managed to convince Bahng to let you come along.

Taking the elevator to the parking garage, an assistant who (you assume) routinely fetches the keys to an otherworldly expensive Lamborghini bows low, greeting either of you with a mandatory please-don’t-hurt-me smile.

You don’t ask where you’re headed, knowing the answer would only lead to more questions instead.

Bahng’s like that, you’ve discovered. Unpredictable to everyone but himself. Private.

Alternatively, compared to what you had imagined (something like a shed or a slaughter-house), he pulled into the gravel driveway of an old home, wooden docks on the roof sticking in strange directions, evidently battered from years of storm turmoil.

Sporting a confused expression yourself, he steps from the scissor doors, ushering you to follow suit.

A bit out of place, you decided. It’s not every day you witness a Lamborghini parked in front of a house like this.

“We’re visiting my grandmother, I visit every week.” He announces, and you could’ve seriously bet money on how uncharacteristic that move was.

This man, the man who ran disappeared at ungodly hours of night with unknown intentions, the man who killed with no remorse, was visiting his grandmother.

First Bin and now Bahng. What a wild card.

Living up to the title, Bahng couldn’t have been more opposing to his usual demeanor, shrugging off his coat and shoes at the doorway and fixing Barley tea for the short woman residing in her rocking chair.

Struggling to unzip his jacket that’s massive size engulfs your frame, you curiously explore, noting the sheer normality.

No weapons, no apparent knowledge of Bahng’s illegal activity patterning the household.

In this house, it’s just a grandmother and her grandson. Not Bahng, but Chris.

The name sounds strange on your tongue.

She wholeheartedly welcomed you in, scolding him for his prominent scars and holding hands that had unforgivable violence wedged between fingernails.

Somehow, watching him felt like betrayal. And although you doubt his grandmother would love him any less despite the gruesome reality, to know so much occurred behind the scenes made things, well, uncomfortable.

You be sure to introduce yourself, spending a good hour and a half entertaining the wrinkled woman before bidding your farewells and returning to familiar stifling tension on the drive home.

Your piling conscious suggests you say something, but you second guess yourself, ultimately garnering the courage after many failed attempts of making small talk once you both returned back to his room.

He’s wearing glasses now, and you swear you’ve never seen someone so unbearably beautiful in your life. Hell, him merely breathing has any comprehensible phrase disappearing instantaneously.

“Have you told anyone about what you do?” You start, causing him to lean over from his place on the side of the mattress, fiddling with something on the nightstand.

You crane to hear his response.

“Sometimes it’s best to lie to keep both parties happy.”

…That’s a no.

“Then, Chris, would you rather be happy living a lie or sad knowing someone’s honest truth?”

Chris.

Though his real name, the words still sound foreign, especially aloud.

He seems to have felt the same, head snapping your direction.

Grinning.

“And what do you know about lying, sweetness?”

“It’s not what I know, it’s what you want to know.” You scoot closer to him, mimicking his cocky smile. “Here’s an example, would you be happy not knowing I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, or sad hearing that I didn’t plan to tell you?”

A low chuckle.

“Did you learn the manipulation part from Minho?”

“Is it working?”

Eyes flickering back and forth from his lips to his eyes, you find yourself lingering centimeters apart, both intoxicated on each bated breath.

“A little bit,” He whispers, unwavering stare flickering to your parted lips before he pulls the glasses off his face and tilts his head to capture your lips.

You hastily climb onto the bed, fingers tangled in his tousled curls that peer from straight hair.

New, but not. As if you’ve kissed him all your life.

Working down your neck, his warm grip eases your legs apart, transitioning from kneading the flesh of your inner thighs to your ass.

“Oh— fuck.” You sigh out, delicious pressure applied right where you needed him most, stirring a deep wave of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body.

The Gunsman has you wrapped around his finger. A man whose power owns guards that stand in front of his seemingly normal door, a man whose power leaves you helplessly entangled in his every move, neck accessorized in his love bites.

Its wrong. Everything is hopelessly wrong.

You can’t get enough.

.. .

Index dragging across the fabric of sheets, your attention bursts alive, body jarring in a hold, someone else’s hold.

Bahng’s hold.

His head is tucked into your neck, arms hugging your bare back against his equally bare body. Bahng feels like comfort, home.

You never thought you’d be referring to a criminal when you said that.

Adjusting, you manage to roll over, admiring his ever kissable lips puckered in a pout, bed-hair forming strange shapes in the side of his pillow before mesmerizing brown eyes begin fluttering open.

Quickly rolling back around, you attempt at pretending to be asleep to no avail, because Bahng buries his face closer to the nape of your neck, sighing a lengthy groan.

Hands exploring you absentmindedly, he ensures to squeeze your chest at least once, otherwise keeping a tender touch settled on your tummy.

“G’morning…” He grumbles hoarsely, barely awake prior to his phone buzzing on the nightstand and his hushed “fuck” earning a giggle from you.

Caller ID: Hwang Hyunjin, the screen reads.

Without even a proper warning, he’s simultaneously thrown into a shark tank the moment the call’s accepted.

So long for the morning afterglow.

“It’s ready,” The Physic utters, and the soft fizzing of chemicals in the background do nothing to cease his foaming pit of guilt.

Grateful you couldn’t see the tight-lipped expression he burns the wall with, he grimaces, sparing you a longing glance.

So peaceful, so beautiful.

This world truly is cruel.

Rising to his feet, he throws on a white button-up, adorned by one of the many black trench coats lining his closet. Discreet, convenient.

Reminding you to stay in bed till he gets back, he finds his footsteps faltering on the way down to the lab.

Bahng, Christopher Bahng, The Gunsman, is nervous.

You’ve really done something to him.

Although, before he can make a move Felix pries the door ajar, and from how he furiously chews his bottom lip immediately answers Chris’ question.

The final part of their cover-up? Getting you back.

Because everyone, including himself, knew he’d fall in love. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t, wouldn’t dare put you through that.

Wafting fumes invade his nostrils entering (essentially) Hyunjin’s lair, multiple cloths layered in a clear box.

“Chloroform, I messed with it a bit. It’s not concentrated enough to be lethal. It’ll just put her out for a little bit.” He pats the top of the box, tugging medical gloves off ringed fingers.

From across the room, Chris can feel eyes on him.

“And how do you know if it won’t kill her?” The person asks, Changbin asks, critiquing gaze fixated on Chris despite regarding Hyunjin.

“Because I tested it? Since when did you care?” Moodily, The Physic cross his arms.

“Since now.”

“Why? Weren’t you the one who wanted to sell her?”

Chris can smell the uprising tension from a mile away.

“Because I’m allowed to care about someone! Am I not, your fucking highness?” Changbin shouts, but hidden by Hyunjin’s irked facade, Chris notices the slight tug of his lips, the peeking amusement.

Turns out Chris wasn’t the only one falling.

What a twist of events.

Interrupting their face-off, he hoists the moderately heavy box up, curtly nodding to Hyunjin.

Maneuvering around the warehouse back toward your room, he fastens a mask onto his face, spreading a few separate cloths into a smaller container.

Felix and Hyunjin’s doing, Chloroform cloths.

There were a few recommendations. Minho suggested knocking you out and going about, Seungmin with the grand idea of blackmailing you into leaving, and Jisung who wanted to keep you here.

Chloroform it was.

Returning to his bedroom, he finds himself understanding Changbin’s anger the longer he watches you, drifted back asleep, angel-like.

Fuck.

This hurts.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he delicately caresses the skin of your cheek, squinting to marvel, to study. The way your eyebrows furrow, exhaling a big breath. Infatuating.

“Can I take you to my favorite place?” He inquires, and you dazedly roll around, small frown gracing oh so tempting lips, swollen from the night before.

“Your favorite place..?”

Even your voice is infatuating. Dreamy.

Chris hums his reply.

Lifting yourself up, you agree, letting him take care of you, brush your teeth for you, undress you. Things oddly mundane for a person like him to want to do, but oddly sweet all the same.

Not sexual, but intimate. Dearly, dearly intimate.

The drive winds along backroads, slowing to take a right down a barren, rocky road situated between countless trees. In the distance you make out the faint glow of light, a clearing.

Upon breaching the forest, your expectations are instantly blown away.

Sundown, evidence of how long you’d slept (and how long Chris had kept you up), gloriously paints the sky dazzling hues.

No picture could encompass this view.

Putting the car into park, you perch on the hood, legs aimlessly swinging, breeze idly passing by.

Admire.

“I asked Jisung, but now I wanna hear it from you.”

He stays quiet.

“Why did you want me to live?” You mischievously pique, fingers drumming.

Bahng approaches nearer, turning to stand between your legs where you sit.

“I like you,” He nonchalantly responds, and the overwhelming need to push him further, dance over that thin line becomes irresistible.

“Only ‘like’ me?”

Licking his lips, he unexpectedly tilts your head to meet him. Tender, gentle.

Your heart hurts. Because unlike previously, this kiss feels regretful, feels sad.

Your arms, once clutching onto that trademark trenchcoat, wrap around his neck, his finding purchase upon your hips.

Yet, you could tell it wasn’t greed driving him. Your earlier ravenous desire, your lust, was gone.

Instead, he was carving you into his memories, starting with his lips. He’d already done so with his hands, with his body the night before.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, and before you could ask any questions he forces your attention back to his eyes, swimming with an emotion you didn’t know Chris could exhibit.

Hurt.

Inexplicable hurt overwhelm that stare. Creases his always-taut brows.

“Just trust me, please.”

Please.

“Chris,” You hesitate.

There’s been that gnawing sensation ever since getting roped into this circus. Because this was only temporary, undoubtedly headed to an inexplicable conclusion.

You wonder if perhaps this is your end, your end with Bahng, with Chris.

Someone you’ve fallen in love with. So, so fucking hard.

And from the way he’s looking at you, it looks like he has too.

But you trust him. You trust him more than you had ever trusted anyone before, and so you nod.

“Chris, I love..”

Your volume dissolves upon the cloth being held to your face, eyes rolling back into your head as you fall limp into his arms, fingertips still touching his skin.

“..Love ….you.”

He kisses you once more, slower this time, cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, I love you.”

Speaking softly to avoid his pain betraying him, Bahng carefully situates you into the passenger seat, ignoring the drone of the engine from how rapidly the speedometer climbs. Numb to anything, everything.

The Aventador’s screen alights with a call.

“What,” He rasps, gleaming traffic lights casting red and green shadows across the car’s black interior.

“Is she...?” Felix asks, and Chris eases slightly. Subtle shuffling in the background reveals the others presence, awaiting the bottom line.

“Yeah.”

The freckled boy hums in response, dejection apparent.

Nevertheless, not a peep sounds, unusual for the usually rowdy crowd. Chris can tell some of them walk away, some staying.

Corn stalks ghosting past signify his location.

He hangs up.

He’ll apologize later.

.. .

Waking up inside your grandparents house feels like a fever dream, like your body isn’t your own and when you open your eyes you’ll still be snuggled into Chris’s arms.

But you aren’t, and you’re also violently kicked out of that fantastical daydream when your grandmother shows up, all smiles, no “I’m so relieved to see you’re safe” or “where did you go?” apparent on any of her features.

“Why, you never told me you had a boyfriend!” She smacks your arm and you flinch back, wearing an expression only comprehensible as puzzlement.

Perhaps Chris payed them? Bought their silence and hid from the law in return?

But that’s not your grandparents. They wouldn’t keep their mouths shut about something like this.

So what the hell did he do?

“The handsome young man who drove you here from the airport!” Waddling over to point an accusing finger at the doorway, your head frantically snaps in every direction.

Your suitcases are zipped up, and no evidence of you ever even arriving here shows around the room.

That is until you notice your phone has miraculously returned on your nightstand.

Immediately swiping to scroll through messages, your thumb stops, lingering over a message from an unknown number.

Pausing, you click.

Don’t come looking for me, but if you need me, text this number.

You would’ve found the text eerily creepy if you didn’t have an idea of who sent it.

You do.

Because there’s no one else that says ‘don’t come looking for me’ and ‘if you need me’ in the same sentence other than him.

Bahng.

FIC TAGLIST. @lizzetmv @skzhoes @fylithia @sunshineshouyo @stayconnecteed @starlost-andfound @seo--changbin @lynlyndoll @browniesandsunshine @stay278 @surefornext @pororolifeblog @httpsjuno @d7n3

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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i-am-baechu · 6 months

Text

・Title: Bad Boy

・Paring: Playboy! Yoongi x Namjoon’s little sister! Reader

・ Summary: Yoongi has been best friends with Namjoon since he was seven. He knew his little sister was always off limits but Yoongi never followed the rules.

・ Rating: Explicit (18+)

・ Genre: Playboy! Yoongi, bad boy! Yoongi, best friend's little sister! reader, college! au, music major! Yoongi, Biology major! reader, fluff, romance, smut, and angst

・Playlist - Dandelions - Ruth B. and Heart like yours - Willamette Stone

・Authors Note: I worked so late yesterday that I didn't have time to post this or even finalize it. I really like how this turned out and it's kinda different for me. I hope you guys like it : )

“I guess sometimes you have to lie to find the truth...” – Scott Westerfeld....

She gasped breathlessly and gripped the black sheets in pleasure, “Yoongi! Please-Oh!” He plunged a finger deep inside of her after teasing her clit with his tongue for what seemed like hours.

“Whiney little slut.” He spat as he smacked her thigh roughly and made his way back to her clit.

“Another one!~” Her pleading echoed through the dark room and her fingers were tangled in his long dark locks. He chuckled softly and added another finger, pulling his tongue off of her clit to replace it with his thumb. He glanced outside of his window for a quick second to see the moon shining so bright against his pale skin. He should be used to the brightness of the moon but he isn’t.

“Come for me. Hurry up, slut.”

She glanced down at Yoongi and couldn’t stop herself from moaning when she saw his smirk. She arched her back and he felt her clenching around his fingers. Yoongi kept pumping his fingers and leaned down to lick at her clit. Before they could continue, Yoongi’s phone started ringing. He rolled his eyes and got off the bed leaving his hook up in a daze. He picked up his phone in annoyance, “What?”

“Dude, where are you? We have that project due at midnight.”

Yoongi cursed under his breath and glanced at the girl on his bed. She was still in a daze and glanced back down at the floor, “Alright, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You fucking better be.”

Yoongi picked up his shirt off the floor and put it on. He picked up the girl's dress and tossed it to her causing her to snap out of her daze, “Are you leaving?”

“What does it look like?”

The girl scoffed and shook her head, “After fucking me, you're just going to leave me?”

“That was the plan. You can have water from the fridge and make sure you lock the door when you leave.”

Yoongi picked up his motorcycle keys and waved at the girl who was looking at him with a shocked expression. He was down the hallway when he heard the girl yell, “Min Yoongi! You are the worst man on this planet and I hope you get what's coming to you!”

Yoongi chuckled at that and put his boots on, “Not the first time I heard that one.”

Yoongi left his apartment, well it wasn’t really his apartment. It was his dad’s property that he used once in a while. That was the benefit of having a rich dad who felt bad for neglecting you. He always wanted to try with him and Yoongi wasn’t going to ignore the gifts or benefits. He put his helmet on and drove to Namjoon’s apartment.

Yoongi met Namjoon by accident during grade school. They were partnered up for a poetry project and since then the two have been together. Namjoon had always understood Yoongi, regardless of how rough around the edges he was. Namjoon understood him. Namjoon was the first person he came to when his parents were getting divorced and he was the first person he went to when he got accepted to his dream college. Best friends forever they said.

The drive there was quick and he was welcomed with the familiar smell of lavender when he closed the door. Namjoon always liked the smell of lavender. He said it calmed him down and it had benefits. Some shit like that. Yoongi placed his helmet on the table towards the front as he took off his jacket. He cracked his neck when he felt a presence.

He turned his head and saw Y/N standing there holding a tray of sweets. Y/N was three years younger than Namjoon and four years his junior. He saw her as a piece of glass. She was so sharp but one push and boom shattered. They didn’t really talk that much because she was always busy with her friends or school. He also didn’t know what to say to her. Like at this moment.

She gave him a small smile and glanced down at the tray, “I got some pastries for your study session. I also started the coffee machine, you should have some soon. Hopefully.”

Yoongi nodded his head and put his hair in a small ponytail, “Thanks Y/N.”

He glanced at her and saw that she was in a simple white loungewear set with matching slippers. Her hair was braided and out of her face giving him the perfect view of her eyes. When they were younger, her eyes were like a doe. So wide and filled with hope. Now that she was older they matured with the sparkle of hope that never truly left her. Hoping that life wouldn’t hurt her and everything would turn out right for her. She had all the tools to make that happen and Yoongi knew this.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder and then back at him, “Namjoon is waiting. He’s grumpy today, be patient with him.”

“Is it because of his girl?”

“Heejin-unnie? Did they get into a fight?”

Yoongi let out a small chuckle and realized that Y/N had no idea about her brother’s love life, “I guess you can say that.”

Y/N tilted her head at him, “Should I be worried? I just want to make sure he’s alright.”

Yoongi shook his head at this and put his hands in his pants pocket, “He’s alright. He’s a big boy.”

Y/N nodded her head and smiled at him, “Plus, he has you in his life. Come in before Namjoon gets angrier.”

Yoongi wanted to ask her what she meant by that but she walked away from him. There were moments where Yoongi found himself wanting to talk to her but he always stopped himself. She was always there but instead of being a wallflower, he saw her as the charming painting that could brighten up any house. Only a few can understand art and he was glad he could.

He sighed to himself and walked into the living room to see Namjoon with his papers all over the place. His laptop shines bright against his face and the multiple energy drink cans can cause any doctor to write a note. Yoongi sighed and shook his head at his friend, “Dude, are you good?”

Namjoon looked up from his laptop and glared at him, “I told you to be here an hour ago! You were just sleeping with some random chick again, right?”

“I lost track of time.” He glanced up and saw Y/N standing by the doorway with a frown on her face. A frown on her face didn’t look right, he wanted to see her smiling with her eyes sparkling. He bit his lip and looked away from her, again what would he say to her?

“Of course, you lost track...sorry, I’m just stressed with this project and-”

“Heejin.”

Namjoon sighed and nodded his head, “Yeah, let’s just focus on the project.”

Yoongi nodded his head and sat on the ground next to Namjoon. He glanced into the kitchen to see Y/N pouring coffee into a mug. He watched her push some hair back and he smiled to himself when he saw her pearl earring shining away. It matched her perfectly. She brought two mugs out and placed them on the table. She smiled at Yoongi and pushed the mug towards him, “Just like how you like it.”

“Americano?”

“Of course, well...I added something to it. It’s my favorite sweetener. I hope you like it.”

Yoongi picked up the cup and brought it up to his lips. The dark liquid went down his throat and the taste of brown sugar became the main focus. It was good, it wasn’t too sweet. It was perfect. Of course, she liked brown sugar, it made sense for her. He put the mug down and saw her looking at him in anticipation. He held back a chuckle and nodded his head, “It’s good.”

She smiled and looked at her brother, “Make sure you drink your coffee. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t Y/N. Go get some sleep, you have that test in the morning.”

She nodded her head and she looked at Yoongi, “Goodnight.”

Yoongi took another sip and nodded his head at her, “Goodnight.”

He watched her leave the living room and before she went up the stairs, she glanced at him. She waved at him but he didn’t return it. He just smiled at her and he hoped that was enough for her. He listened to her footsteps until he heard her door closed. He could easily map out her room, he's always at Namjoon’s apartment.

He turned towards Namjoon who was typing away and he sighed, “Dude, we just needed one more part. Why are you so stressed?”

“I wanted to add more things.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this and shook his head, “Professor Lee said it was perfect, what more can you do?”

“Make it more perfect, start reading.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes at this, It’s going to be a long night.

His eyes fluttered open when the smell of cinnamon hit his nose. He let out a low groan and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and realized he fell asleep on the floor. He glanced at the couch to see Namjoon snoring with the book covering his face. He took his phone off the charger and saw it was seven in the morning. He let out another groan but his eyes landed on the kitchen.

Y/N had her hair up in a ponytail pouring oatmeal into a bowl. He saw the soft cotton cream sweater dress that made her look so small. He slowly got up and walked towards the kitchen. He leaned against the door frame and saw her washing the dishes she used. He couldn’t help but look her up and down. This was different though. He wasn’t looking at her as a quick hook-up, he was admiring the beautiful person that he had known his whole life.

“Good morning Yoongi. I made you a bowl of oatmeal.”

He quickly snapped out of his stare and gave her an awkward smile, “Thanks.” He walked into the kitchen to see the bowl of oatmeal with berries and cinnamon on top. He glanced next to the bow to see a tangerine and let out a small laugh, “Is that for you?”

“No, it’s for you. I know it's your favorite.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem...I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He turned towards her to see her leaning against the sink with a frown. He shook his head as he started to peel the tangerine, “No, I woke up because my ass was hurting from the floor.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Did you guys finish the project?”

“Yeah, but Namjoon wanted to do extra credit.” This is the most I’ve spoken to her in a while...

“Of course he did.”

Yoongi took a slice of the tangerine and handed it towards her, “Here.”

She glanced at the slice and then back at him, “Thank you...I have to go to class.”

He nodded his head and placed the tangerine in her hand. He felt the softness of her palm and the faint lines. It was a feeling he wasn’t used to but he liked it. Y/N took the tangerine and placed it in her mouth. She let out a small laugh and smiled, “It’s kinda sour. Bye, Yoongi.”

She waved at Yoongi and headed towards the door with Yoongi watching her. He saw the way her hair bounced with each step she took and saw a big white scrunchie holding her hair. He continued to watch her until the wall made her disappear and he heard the door closed. He sighed and leaned against the counter staring at the ceiling, Fuck.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Happy birthday, Y/N.”

She smiled at Yoongi and accepted the present. It was Y/N’s birthday party and she invited all her friends over (which wasn’t a lot). Yoongi was kind of shocked that he was invited but then he remembered he was her brother’s best friend. It made sense for him to be there. Every year Namjoon tried making Y/N’s birthday bigger, it was the least he could do since it was just them. Ever since their parents passed away, Namjoon tried his best to make everything perfect for her.

She glanced down at the present and then back at him, “Thank you. Can I have a guess?”

“No, that’s why you open it.”

She rolled her eyes at him and set the box on the table with the other ones, “Thank you, do you want some cake or-”

“Y/N, it’s your birthday. You don’t have to serve me anything.”

“But I want to...especially if it's you.”

They stared at each other until she broke it. Glancing down at the floor and he was glad she broke it. He didn’t know what he would do if she continued to look at him like that. She looked back at him and went to say something but Namjoon entered the room.

“Neh, Y/N. Your friends want to do shots.”

Y/N nodded her head but she didn’t break her gaze. Yoongi let out a small cough and glanced down at his shoes, “Namjoon, you got beer?”

“Of course I do. Y/N likes those fruity drinks.”

Y/N scoffed and turned towards her brother, “You know, you drink them too.”

“Rarely.”

She rolled her eyes and went towards the kitchen while Namjoon laughed at her. Namjoon gave a bro hug to Yoongi and gave him a smile, “Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem. It’s wild that she’s twenty-four.”

Namjoon glanced over his shoulder and smiled seeing his sister laughing loudly with her friends, “Don’t remind me. What did you get her?”

“It’s not for you. Why would I tell you?”

“So fucking annoying. Let’s get some beer.”

They walked into the backyard and picked some beer out of the cooler. They sat in the chairs and stared at the sky together. Namjoon took a sip and sighed, “It’s been six years since our parents passed.”

Yoongi nodded his head and watched the stars twinkling, “They’re always here. They would be proud of you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, studying to become a doctor and taking care of his little sister. Who wouldn’t be proud?”

Namjoon let out a small chuckle and shrugged his shoulders. He placed the beer next to him and looked at the sky, “Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decisions…but then I see Y/N smiling..and it makes the questions fade away.”

Yoongi smiled at this and glanced at Namjoon, “She loves you. You're her everything.”

“I wouldn’t say everything…”

The back door opened and they turned around to see Y/N with a wide smile. She walked towards Yoongi and leaned down, placing a kiss on his cheek, “I love it…thank you.”

“Yeah…”

She ran back in and he watched with a smile on his face. Namjoon raised his eyebrow and glanced at Yoongi, “What did you get her?”

“A mini vinyl player with her favorite songs.”

“Damn, that's a good gift. I just got her that biology book she wanted.”

“I knew she liked music...I didn’t want to get her something that was school-related so...yeah.”

It was later that night and everyone went home while Yoongi was crashing on the couch. He went up the stairs to go to the bathroom but before he entered he heard a soft melody. He glanced at Y/N’s door to see the door cracked open. He slowly walked towards the door and smiled at the sight before him. Y/N fell asleep with the mini vinyl playing the familiar melody. He quietly walked into her room and glanced down at her face.

The moon was highlighting her features and her hair framed her face perfectly. Sure, she had drool on her chin but Yoongi didn’t care. It was Y/N, that's what matters. He pulled the blanket up to cover her but he felt a hand on his wrist. He slowly looked up to see Y/N giving him a sleepy smile, “Hey...”

He let out a small cough and nodded his head, “Hey...”

“I really liked your gift, it was my favorite...thank you.”

“I’m glad you liked it. Did you have a good birthday?”

She snuggled closer to her pillow and let out a small groan, “I did...You made it better you know.”

He raised his eyebrow and looked at her, “How?”

“Secret.”

He chuckled and carefully picked up the mini vinyl player. He placed it on her desk and turned back to see her eyes closed. He smiled to himself and pushed some hair back, “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yoongi sat in the club with all his friends around him. Namjoon just recently went on a break from his girl and Jungkook just wanted to go out. It was a great excuse to go out. It’s been a week since he spoke to Y/N. Sure he’s seen her around campus but he didn’t speak to her. He wanted to, but it was awkward for him to do so.

He smashed his cigarette in the ashtray and leaned back against the dark purple couch. He cracked his neck and watched Jungkook flirt with a senior girl and Taehyung doing shots with a group of people. This is how the night usually goes. Yoongi stood up and leaned towards Hoseok, “I’m going to the bathroom, watch Namjoon real quick.”

“He’ll be fine-”

“He’s getting drunk. Watch him.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi walked away with his hands in his pockets. He looked around and saw everyone getting drunk. He was sure someone was fucking on the dance floor. He went into the hallway to the bathroom but stopped when he heard a familiar voice. The need to go to the bathroom left him and pure anger took over.

“Jun, leave me alone.”

“I want you, Y/N. If we fucked once we can fucked again.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrowed and walked towards the exit to see Y/N hugging herself. Clearly looking uncomfortable. Yoongi glared and walked towards them with anger in each step. He pushed Jun and stood in front of Y/N, “She said leave. You better leave.”

Jun looked at Yoongi with wide eyes, “Yo-Yoongi!?”

“Yeah, you know my name. Now get the fuck out before I force you. Leave.”

Jun glanced at Y/N and then back at Yoongi, “Fine, this isn’t over yet, Y/N.”

Yoongi watched him leave and he sighed. He turned around to see Y/N avoiding his eyes, “Are you alright, Y/N?” She nodded her head and rubbed her arm in a nervous manner. Yoongi sighed and brought her into a tight hug as he rubbed her back, “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be sorry, it's his fault. What are you doing here?”

Yoongi let her go and Y/N leaned against the wall with a frown, “Isabella broke up with her boyfriend...we decided to come here to cheer her up.”

Yoongi nodded his head and looked around, “Do you want to go home or stay?”

“I would like to go home...I was going to call a-”

“I’m taking you home. I want to make sure you get home safely.”

Y/N looked up and gave him a small smile, “Thank you Yoongi...let me get my things real quick.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I’ll be fine. It’s literally right there, it won’t be long.”

“I’ll be waiting here for you.”

He watched her walk away and he noticed the simple short black dress she was in. It showed off her figure perfectly and he couldn’t help himself from biting his lip. He quickly looked away and shook his head, disappointed in himself that he looked at Y/N like that. Especially what just happened. He wasn’t better than that guy.

“Yoongi are you alright?”

He looked back to see Y/N with worry in her eyes, “I was just thinking...”

“Thinking is dangerous.”

“I should know. Are you ready?”

She nodded her head and walked towards him with this soft aura around her, “Thank you for doing this.”

“No problem.”

The two walked in the night with stars and street lights guiding their way. The leaves underneath them remember their footwear and the wind pushing them forward. He glanced to his side to see her shivering a bit. He quickly took off his jacket and tapped her arm, “Take it.”

She glanced at the leather jacket and then at his face, “You’ll get cold though.”

“I’ll be fine. You won’t though.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Very confident, Yoongi.”

“Have to be.” Especially around you.

He gently draped his jacket around her shoulders and he watched her snuggle into it, “It’s very warm. A good contrast from this cold.”

“It’s fall. What did you expect?”

“Touchee.”

The two continued to walk on the sidewalk and the winds kept pushing him towards her. He stood his ground against it but that didn’t stop him from glancing at her. They stopped when he was in front of his car and he opened the door for her, “Here.”

“Yoongi, thank you again for this.”

“Stop saying thank you, it's weird.”

She shrugged her shoulders and entered his car but Yoongi placed his hand on top of her head to make sure she didn’t hit it. She glanced at him but he ignored it. He closed the door and let out a deep sigh with his eyes closed before he headed to his side. He started the car and the drive was filled with stolen glances.

During the halfway point, curiosity killed the cat, “So...why was that Jun dude bothering you?”

She glanced away from the window to give him her full attention, “I slept with him once and I said never again.”

“Was he that bad?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “No, I just felt lonely and it wasn’t right to do that to someone. Even if they're horrible like Jun.”

“You're too nice.”

“You’re not the first person that told me that. Why were you at the club?”

He wasn’t sure if he should outed Namjoon so he just shrugged his shoulders, “It was a Saturday. Nothing else to do.”

She nodded her head and glanced back out the window, “You go to the club often?”

“Eh...it depends.”

“That doesn’t sound fun...then again that’s just me.”

It’s not fun but I do it because I’m lonely too...

He stopped the car in front of the familiar yellow paint and unlocked the doors, “There you are.”

She smiled and handed him back his jacket, “I appreciate this...don’t tell Namjoon what happened tonight?”

“Sure.”

She got out of the car and he followed. He leaned against his door and watched her go up to the door. She glanced over her shoulder and he thought it was funny to see her confused, “Why are you still here?”

“I want to make sure you get in.”

She stared at him for a second longer and it made him feel warm but he pushed it down. She unlocked the door and turned towards him. He waved at him and they didn't break eye contact until she closed the door. He ran his fingers through his hair and took out a cigarette. He watched the smoke go up into the dark sky to touch the stars. He wondered if the stars understood his feelings at this moment. He watched one of the stars twinkle and he shook his head looking down at the pavement. That would be a yes. The next step was just going home and that’s when the sky decided to cry.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Yoongi, why did you do it?”

Yoongi didn’t say anything and continued to watch Y/N patching his hands as he sat on the nurse's bed. Y/N was annoyed with Yoongi and it was clear to him. Yoongi hated that she was annoyed with him but this was different. Yoongi hissed in pain and he watched her roll her eyes, “Y/N-”

“No, Yoongi. Why do you put yourself in harm's way all the time?”

An hour ago

Yoongi and Namjoon were walking to their class. It was a simple day, art and music. Yoongi’s favorite classes. Seokjin came out of nowhere and was out of breath looking at them with wide eyes. Yoongi glanced at him and then at Namjoon with a confused face, “Dude are you good?”

“Y/N needs help.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened at this and he dropped his bag in a rush, “Where?”

“Lunch-”

Yoongi didn’t let him finish his sentence and he ran towards the lunch court. He felt eyes on him but they didn’t matter. He slammed open the door and ran towards the group of people in the middle of the room. He pushed people out of the way to see Jun yelling at Y/N who was frightened. He didn’t even know why Jun was yelling at her but he didn’t care. Y/N was scared. That’s all he saw.

He pushed Jun to the floor and he started to punch Jun with all his strength. All his anger came forward and Jun was going to regret it, “I told you to stay away from her!” He kept at it until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. He stopped and slowly turned around to see Y/N with tears going down her face. He shot up and went straight towards her, “Y/N are you okay?”

She didn’t say anything and slowly picked his hand up to analyze them. She frowned, “You’re hurt...let me fix you up.”

She grabbed his wrist and walked out of the lunch court with pure silence following them. The silence was killing Yoongi. He was so used to hearing her voice lately that the silence was hurting him now. He would do anything to hear her voice, mad or happy.

“Yoongi, why did you do it?”

“No, Yoongi. Why do you put yourself in harm's way all the time?”

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and looked away from her gaze. She shook her head at this and put the final bandage on his finger, “People care about you-”

“I don’t care about what others think.”

She looked up and stared into his eyes (it felt like he could melt from the intensity), “Fine. I care about you Yoongi. Every time I hear you got into a fight, I worry for you. You have to know I care about you.”

“Y/N-”

“Yoongi, I care about you so much...can’t you believe me? I care about you.” Yoongi had heard his father say he cared about him shit, he heard Namjoon say it to him but this right here was different. The way that she was looking at him was something he had never experienced before. She reached over to cup his face and he flinched a little at the sudden touch. He glanced at her hands and then at her face with a confused look. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. She leaned forward to take his face into her hands and she closed her eyes, gently kissing him.

His mind went blank at her lips. He stood there unresponsive staring at her face now that she was so close. It was clear that she wasn’t giving up because she stayed kissing his lips. After a moment to comprehend, he closed his eyes and started kissing back.

Her hands brushed along his biceps and she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groaned at the feeling and of having her pressed against him. He slowly brought her down on her back with the soft white cotton giving her comfort. He rolled on top of her and he didn’t want this moment to end. Without thinking he brushed his tongue against her lips and he felt her smile. She opened her mouth to let him roam around her mouth as she brought her hands against his chest and he started to kiss his neck, “Yoongi...”

He loved this feeling but deep down he knew this was wrong. This was Namjoon’s little sister. His everything and he was clear that she was off limits. He couldn’t love her. How could a heart like hers like him? This couldn’t happen...she deserved better.

“Shit.” He pulled away, getting off of her. As he sat on the edge of the bed with his jaw tense. She frowned at this and sat up with a worried expression, “Yoongi? Are you okay?”

The door opened and Y/N stood up quickly to see Namjoon coming in with a cold soda in his hand. He glanced at Yoongi and frowned, “Dude, you alright? I heard you were fighting Jun...he deserved it.”

Yoongi looked up at Namjoon and stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say to him. He was just kissing his little sister. How could he do that? He felt his hand being pried open and felt two small objects in his palm. He glanced down to see two motrin. He looked up to see Y/N giving him a small smile, “That should help. I’m going to the library, get better.”

He watches her give him a final smile and gives Namjoon a small rub of a shoulder. He looked away and listened to the door closing. Namjoon looked down at his hands and shook his head, “Did Y/N patch you up?”

“Yeah...”

“Thank you for beating the crap out of him. No one messes with my sister and gets away from it.”

“Yeah...”

That night Yoongi found himself at the club alone with a whiskey in his hand. His mind kept going back to the kiss. That kiss made his heart beat so fast and his pale skin turned red. It made him feel and he knew having feelings, especially these ones are only trouble. He chugged his whiskey and ran his fingers through his hair roughly. The dim lights of the club helped his hazed out mind but he knew it wasn’t enough.

He felt a touch on his arm and he glanced to see a girl looking at him. It was a look he was used to and he knew it would help him right now, “Hey Yoongi.”

“Hey....”

She leaned towards him and the smell of alcohol made him want to get sick. She gave him a smile with a head tilt, “I’m Sarah. We have music class together.”

“That’s cool.”

She placed her hand on top of his and winked at him, “Do you want to leave here?”

“Sure.”

She stood up from the chair and Yoongi followed her out of the club. She kept talking about something but Yoongi wasn’t really paying attention to her. His mind kept going back to how Y/N looked at him. They went inside her car and they started to kiss. The kiss couldn’t even come close to the kiss he had with Y/N. This kiss was filled with loneliness and with Y/N it was liquid fire.

He watched her take off her top and he was thankful the light from outside was covering her. The feeling of guilt was eating at him but he had to let Y/N go. This was Namjoon’s little sister. She didn’t deserve him. Why did this hurt so much?

He grabs a tit and a moan echoes through the empty car. He felt her fingers going through his hair and his mind kept flashing back to Y/N. He shook his head at this and lifted up her thigh making it easier for him to sneak between her legs. When his cock entered, she couldn’t help but moan out loud. He groaned when he felt her clenching and he felt how wet she was. She arched her back and he ran his hand against her stomach to her chest. He pinched her nipple and she couldn’t help but quiver. She felt her orgasm coming and the clenching made Yoongi ready to burst. The faster this is done, the faster he can drink away the guilt.

“Gonna cum, get off.”

She nodded her head and got off him. She leaned towards him to suck him off and Yoongi didn’t stop her. He grabbed a fist full of hair and started to push her down causing her to gag at his cock. He leaned his head back and let out a moan but his mind couldn’t stop him, “Y-Y/N.”

When she licked her lips she glanced at him, “Do you want to go back to my place?”

“No...”

He tucked himself back in his pants and got out of the car without another word. He didn’t even care if she was hurt at the moment. He didn’t care about much.

The next morning, he sat in his room as his mind nagged him. He had to talk to Y/N and he had no idea how he was going to address things. That kiss that happened was the greatest thing that happened to him but it could never be repeated. She was already changing him and he hated that.

He walked towards the library knowing she was going to be there. He walked up to the fifth floor to see Y/N studying biology with her classmate. She was dressed in a light pink cardigan and simple dark blue skinny jeans. Her pink cardigan and his leather jacket were a clear indication of how opposite they were. It was cliche but it was true. She could never love him. He wouldn’t let her.

“Can we talk?”

Y/N turned around and he watched a wide smile appear on her face, “Yeah, I’ll be right back, Joy.”

The pair walked away and he glanced over his shoulder to see her looking down at the ground with shyness. They walked until they were at the end of the room and they were hidden by the bookshelves. They were silent and she glanced at his face and then towards the ground, “Are you mad at me?”

“No...I just wanted to talk.”

“Was it about yesterday?”

He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, “What happened yesterday can’t happen again.”

“What?”

“I said it can’t happen again.”

She glared at him and she placed her hands on her hips, “What made you decide?”

Yoongi felt his jaw tense and stared at the books behind her, “This shit, it’s not going to work.”

She raised her eyebrow at this and shook her head, “You kissed back...I want you to be honest with me right now, Yoongi.”

“You think I’m lying!”

“I know you are. You’re scared-”

“I’m not scared!” He knew that was bullshit but she couldn’t know the truth. He watched her look away from him and he was nervous that she was going to cry. One tear and it was over for him. He would do anything to keep that tear away.

“Yoongi, I want you,” she whispered a shout in his face causing his face to flush. That’s what he always wanted to hear from her but he couldn’t do it. It just couldn’t happen.

“I’m Namjoon’s best friend-”

“I don’t give a damn. He can get over it...can’t you just give me a chance?”

He looked back at her and saw the determination on her face. This was the most honest he has ever seen Y/N. He couldn’t help but glance down at her lips and then back at her eyes. She shook her head and then she closed the gap between them. He was taken back but her lips against his felt right. His mind was telling him to push her off but his heart couldn’t agree with him. He started to kiss back and he ignored his thoughts for a minute.

She let out a small gasp when she felt his tongue but quickly granted access. He pulled her body closer (if that was possible). He felt her arms around his neck and he pushed her against the bookshelves. He moved down to her neck and started nipping at the soft skin. She brushed her hands through his hair and she kissed the top of his head. His hands started to travel and when he reached her ass, he couldn’t help himself to give it a squeeze. She gasped out loud and seeing this, he brought his lips back to hers. He reached underneath the back of her cardigan but quickly set her down gently when he heard voices.

“Fuck.”

She looked up at him with that same dazed expression she had yesterday, “I won’t back down.”

He looked into her eyes and realized he had matched his match with stubbornness. He looked away from her gaze, “Fine. Do what you want.” He narrowed his eyes at her while he placed his hands against the shelves, trapping her.

She bit her lower lip and wrapped her arms around his neck while they stared at each other. She kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “I will.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Yoongi, are you sure you should be doing this?”

“My dad wants it. He said it's urgent.”

Namjoon sighed and leaned against his couch, “It’s raining though-”

“I won’t take my motorcycle. I have my car.”

“What’s going on?”

Yoongi turned his head and saw Y/N looking at him with a worried look. She was in her pajamas and she was leaning against the wall staring at Yoongi. He sighed and glanced down at the floor, “Nothing-”

“His dad wants him to deliver this box to him but it's pouring rain. I told him he shouldn’t go but his dad needs it.”

She glanced at her brother and then back at Yoongi, “Are you sure it’s all right to go alone?”

“Y/N, I’ll be fine okay? Don’t worry.”

She sighed at this and looked away from him, “Just be careful...”

Namjoon sighed and stood up from the couch, “I gotta call Heejin. She keeps texting me, Yoongi, just be careful. Text me when you get there.”

Yoongi nodded his head and watched Namjoon walk away in disappointment. He knew Namjoon was angry at his decision but Namjoon knew he couldn’t control him. Yoongi was also the type of man that if he said he was going to do something, he was going to do it. Regardless of what it was.

Yoongi listened for the door to close and he turned towards Y/N looking at him with softness, “I’ll be going.”

“Come back safe. It’s raining really hard.”

He nodded his head at this and the way she cared for him was making him feel safe. His instincts were telling him to act on his feelings. He walked up towards her to see her eyes looking at him with confusion but he leaned in and kissed her. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. He wrapped his arms around her waist and let his heart do the talking. It was clear she was nervous about this trip and he hoped the kiss would make her feel better.

When they pulled away he looked into her eyes and smiled, “It will be okay.”

“Okay...make sure you text Namjoon.”

He gave her a teasing smile, “You don’t want me to text you?”

“If you want. I don’t want to force you.”

“I’ll text you too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He opened the door and turned around to give her a small wave. She returned it with a smile. He closed the door and let out a small sigh. He glanced forward and saw the rain was causing small flooding but his dad needed the package. He would help him especially since he was paying for his college.

The drive there was slow and the rain wasn’t stopping at any time. He took a sip of his coffee as he stopped at the stop light. It wasn’t busy out which makes sense because of the weather. He was thankful for that. The light turned green and he pulled up to go. Out of nowhere, a person came on the other side and with the rain, they couldn’t stop. He saw the headlights and then darkness.

“Namjoon, let me see him!”

“Y/N he’s-”

“Let me see him. Now.”

Yoongi groaned at the sound and slowly sat up. Under his palms, he felt softness and he realized he was in a bed. He turned his head to see that he was in a hospital. He was confused but he didn’t care, he heard how distressed Y/N sounded, “Y-Y/N?”

The curtains were ripped open and he saw Y/N’s eyes red, “Yoongi? Oh my god, you made me so worried.”

She walked towards his bedside table and went to pour water into a cup for him. Yoongi glanced at her and noticed that her hands were shaking. He reached over and grabbed her wrist, “I’m okay...”

He watched her stand there until tears started to fall down her cheeks. He knew had to do something. He carefully pulled her towards him on the bed as she cried into his gown. He looked up to see Namjoon talking to his dad, he had some time with her, “Don’t cry.” He started to rub her back gently.

“I can’t help it. I told you before, I care about you, Yoongi.” Y/N suddenly took his hand into hers, placing a kiss on his knuckle, “I care so much.”

The curtains opened and Y/N slowly got up from the bed to see the doctor come in. He smiled at Yoongi and glanced at his clipboard, “You were lucky Mr. Min. Your previous shoulder injury wasn’t affected by this accident. Minor bruises and soreness. You can leave in the morning.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

He gave one final smile and left the room. Yoongi turned his head towards Y/N to see her already looking at him. He gave her a smile and nodded his head, “Told you I was fine.”

She let out a laugh and shook her head, “shut up.”

Namjoon and Yoongi’s dad entered looking at him with worry. Yoongi’s dad sat down on the bed and frowned, “I’m sorry Yoongi. I made my own son risk his life for a package.”

“Dad, it’s fine. I was the one that said I would do it. It’s my fault. I ignored Namjoon and Y/N.”

Namjoon sighed and shook his head, “At least your shoulder didn’t fucked up again.”

“I know, I'm grateful. I can leave tomorrow morning.”

Y/N smiled and took a step forward, “I’ll help you around your apartment.”

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow, “What about school?”

“Most of my assignments can be sent online. It’s fine.”

He looked at Namjoon who shrugged his shoulders, “Are you okay with that Yoongi?”

“Yeah, I am.”

He watched her gather the dishes and head out of his bedroom. It’s been a couple of hours since he’s been home and Y/N didn’t want to leave his side. Yoongi’s dad drove them home with Y/N sitting in the back with Yoongi. As they drove, Y/N placed her hand on his thigh and she placed her head on his shoulder. It was very domestic and he didn’t want to fight her anymore.

He was lying down in his bed as he waited for her to come back up. He was falling asleep due to the painkillers but he wanted to stay awake for her to come back. She quietly made her way over and sat on the bed, “You can go to sleep. I’ll be downstairs.”

“No, I want you here with me.”

She carefully leaned down, giving him a gentle kiss on his lips, “Go to sleep.”

“Stay with me.”

They were staring into each other’s eyes with soft smiles on their faces. They both leaned in and closed the gap between them. He slowly brushed his hand through her hair as she glided her tongue over his bottom lip. She trailed her fingers against his chest as his free hand brushed along her knee. He leaned forward to press his lips a bit harder but had to pull back, “Damn.”

“Are you alright?”

“Wrong movement.”

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, “Go to sleep, Yoon.”

“Stay with me.”

“Okay.”

Three days of Y/N being by his side and everything has been perfect. Today, he asked Y/N to get some fast food because he wanted to talk to Namjoon. This was going to change the course of their friendship, it can go good or bad. He heard footsteps coming up and he took a deep breath. Namjoon opened the door and smiled at him, “How are you doing?”

“I’m feeling better...it’s all thanks to Y/N.”

“Yeah, she’s a good nurse.” Namjoon sat on the bed carefully and noticed Yoongi was nervous. He turned his body towards him and gave him a worried look, “Are you good?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow and nodded his head, “Sure.”

Yoongi took a deep breath and rubbed his neck nervously, “Y/N-”

“You like my sister, right?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened at this and he wanted to leave the room, “W-What?”

Namjoon let out a small laugh and looked away from Yoongi, “I saw the way she looked at you...it was clear she had a crush but I don’t think it's just a crush anymore. I didn’t know you liked her until her birthday...I heard you in her bedroom that night. I saw the way you looked at her too. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

Yoongi glanced down at his lap and sighed, “I’m sorry. I know she’s your sister and I didn’t want-”

“Yoongi, that would be lying to yourself. I wouldn’t want her with anybody else.”

“But she’s your little sister and I'm your best friend.”

Namjoon sighed and turned back to Yoongi, “I want her to be happy and I also want you to be happy. If you two want to be together, then go for it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Don’t hurt her or I will kill you.”

“I expected that.”

Yoongi entered the bedroom and she smiled when she saw Namjoon, “Oppa, why are you here?”

Namjoon smiled at her, “I was visiting Yoongi.”

“He looks better, doesn’t he?”

“He does. Are you coming back home tomorrow or the next day?”

She placed the food next to Yoongi and smiled at him, “The next day, is that okay?”

“It’s fine. I do miss you though.”

She let out a small laugh and sat on the bed next to Yoongi, “I miss you too but Yoongi needs me.”

Namjoon smirked at this and glanced at Yoongi with a teasing smile, “Yeah he does.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nighttime came by fast and Y/N was brushing her hair in Yoongi’s mirror. He watched from his bed with a smile, “You know, only Namjoon has been in my apartment.”

She raised her eyebrow and turned around in the chair to look at him, “Really? You haven’t brought your hookups here?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I would never bring them here.”

“I guess I’m special.”

“You are special, especially to me.”

Her eyes widened at this and she smiled at this, “Am I?”

He watched her put her brush back on the table and make her way to him. She climbed onto the bed with that teasing smile he loved, “You are special to me. You're my girl.”

He pulled her onto his lap and she raised her eyebrow, “I’m your girl?”

“If you want?”

She leaned down and kissed him. He deepened the kiss sliding his hands to her waist to her thighs. His fingertips were enjoying her soft skin and she gasped at the touch. He wanted her. Ever since he told her that he was not in pain anymore, his mind started to wander. She moved her hands up his pajama shirt and started to unbutton it. He pulled back a little and raised his eyebrow. She didn’t say anything but she leaned forward to meet his lips again.

After finishing his shirt, he pushed it down his shoulder letting her fingertips touch his pale skin. She moved her hands upwards and gently rubbed his shoulder. He held onto her waist and moved her shirt up to touch her skin. He moved to the hem of her top, slowly pulling the fabric upwards. Once he saw her in her bra, his heart stopped. She cupped his face and placed her lips on his. Their tongues twirling around each other.

His hands moved towards the back of her bra, unclasping the white lace. She tossed the bra to the sound and she looked at him with readiness. His hands replaced the fabric and she moaned, as she arched her back towards him. He smiled to himself when he saw that her breasts fit perfectly into his large hands. He rubbed his thumb over her right nipple, “Oh, Yoon.”

She felt his tongue on her sensitive numb while feeling his hands were feeling her up. He held back a groan hearing her say his name like that. It made him feel hard. He switched over to her other breast, giving it the same treatment. She held him close to her chest as if he was going to disappear. Their naked chests fully touched each other and they stared at each other. She smiled at him and he returned it. Kissing each other was the greatest discovery they both made.

He trailed his tongue between her breasts until he reached the top of her bottoms. His hand brushed her bare sides and he watched the bumps appear on her skin. He removed the piece of clothing and was met with her white lace. It’s amazing how white lace was the perfect thing to describe her. So innocent and gentle, that’s his Y/N.

“Yoon...”

He took off the underwear and he leaned down kissing her neck. She suddenly bucked against his hand when she felt him cupping her, “I want to take my time with you.”

She couldn’t respond when she felt his middle finger along her wet silt. She placed her hands on his shoulders, “Yoon, please.”

They slowly kissed but a gasp escaped when she felt a finger getting inserted, “Yoongi, I want you now, please.”

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes...but we need protection.”

He nodded his head and leaned forward to his nightstand to grab a condom. He took off his pants and placed the condom on as Y/N watched. She wrapped her legs around him and nodded her head at him. He looked into her eyes before entering and she gasped at the new feeling. His thrusts were slow and she noticed how tense he was. She leaned forward kissing the tip of his nose, “Don’t hold back, I want you Yoongi.”

He nodded his head and he started to quicken his pace. She had her eyes closed with her mouth parted due to the pleasure. Her moans echoed through the room and it created a song with the rain hitting the window. He moved his hand down and started to rub at her clit causing a loud moan to escape. He leaned down and kissed her lips as she moaned into his mouth. When their orgasms hit them both, time stopped. It was only them and the rain. She trailed her fingers down his back and kissed his shoulder.

“What are you smiling for?”

She smiled and cuddled into his chest, “I finally got my bad boy...”

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #Bts #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader

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amakumos · 1 year

Text

twizzle into my heart — nishimura riki

synopsis. Falling in love when your sport is your top priority is hard, and nobody knows this better than you and Nishimura Riki. You two tried to make it work, but things didn't end up like you both wanted it to. But, when you and Riki cross paths again 4 years later at 4 Continents, old feelings resurface, and you find that Nishimura Riki comes twizzling straight into your heart once again.

genre. fluff, angst, exes to friends to lovers, slowburn, figure skating au

warnings. swearing, mentions of injury, riki is 21, reader is 21. both riki and reader compete for japan, set during the 2026/2027 figure skating season

wordcount. 25.4k (whoops)

author’s note. it's finally here :) timh! rikiyn will forever hold a very very special place in my heart and i !!! hope you love them as much as i do :,) here's a playlist i made if you'd like to listen to the songs i listened to while reading !! i hope you all enjoy reading and i love getting feedback and comments so pls lmk ur thoughts on this !! ^_^ i hope you love it

ONE. harder than a quad axel

When it comes to love, Nishimura Riki is no stranger to getting hurt.

Being a competitive athlete whilst trying to find love at the same time is surprisingly hard, he’s realised over his 21 years of existence. Figure skating is his career, it’s his life – but most of the people he’s ever been with never seem to understand the dedication he has for the sport.

Riki thinks that skating is what makes him whole. If he didn’t have the ice, he’d feel like a part of him would be missing.

On his list of priorities, skating comes on top of the podium. Love is left with 2nd place, a silver medal. Nobody he’s ever liked has ever come close to understanding how Riki can’t put love above figure skating.

Nobody until he met you.

He had met you at Junior Nationals 7 years ago, when you were sitting in the stands, watching the women’s free skate. He was sitting next to you, and you had decided to start a conversation with him. He learnt that you were a pairs skater, partnered with Takahashi Keiji, one of Riki’s old friends from primary school.

You two had gotten lost in your conversation, completely forgetting about the performances in front of you. Talking to you was fun, and Riki found that he enjoyed your presence. A lot.

It wasn’t long before you and Riki got closer. Every time that you both had spare time (which, to be fair, wasn’t often), you two would hang out together, going to various cafes and talking for hours and hours on end. You and Riki would also go to arcades, where you watched as he played with multiple claw machines, and he gave you one of the Hello Kitty plushies that he won.

Everyone knew that you and Riki were bound to have developed feelings for each other. It was just a matter of time before you two realised, and when you two finally did, your friends both wasted no time on telling you both to just confess.

Even though you had a feeling that Riki liked you back, you were always too scared to tell him about your feelings. But, when Taki blurted it out in front of the both of you accidentally during a training session, it led to you both confessing your feelings to each other – after all, it was all out in the open now.

You both swear that Taki did it on purpose, but the boy still maintains his innocence.

You two had both established early on in your relationship that your careers were important, and skating was of the utmost importance to the both of you. Riki was elated to have finally found someone who understood how he felt. You two know better than anyone that finding love is hard when figure skating is the most important thing in your life – and you have never felt luckier than to find someone like Nishimura Riki.

Despite spending most of your time training, you and Riki managed to squeeze in dates whenever you both had a free spot in your packed timetable. From going to the arcade, walking around busy shopping malls or relaxing picnics in the park, every single moment you could share with Riki was special.

But then came the transition into seniors.

Competing in seniors added more pressure for the two of you. You two forced yourselves to train more, reducing the little time that you two had to spend together to practically almost none. Even phone calls and text messages between you two were rare – and when Riki had spare time, you were busy, and vice versa. It was clear to your friends that you both did not have any time for your relationship anymore, and the best decision was probably to end it before one of you got hurt.

Riki was scared. Scared of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him — he didn’t want to lose you. He wanted you in his life.

But after weeks after weeks of him bailing on you for training, and weeks after weeks of you bailing on him for training, you two know that at this point, there was no relationship between you two. It was like you two had already broken up for months. You two just had to have a conversation to make the split official.

And that conversation happened when Riki was entering the rink for training, and when you and Keiji were leaving it. You had stopped him for a few minutes, and it was like Riki already knew what was coming.

“We both know that we’re too busy and focused on skating to be together.” you said, and Riki agreed. You two had tried your best to make it work — but your dedication to skating was just more… important. You both understood that.

“Yeah. I agree. So… I guess this is it, isn’t it?” Riki bites the inside of his cheek. He knows this is right, but he can’t help but feel upset about it. You were his girlfriend for 2 years — and the relationship was really going to end with a conversation that took less than five minutes.

“I guess so… um… I’m really sorry.” you say, and Riki nods, giving you a small smile. “I get it. You get it too. We have other priorities.”

You smile, nodding at him. “We’ll still be friends, hmm?”

“Are you joking? Of course.”

“I’ll see you around.” you stand there looking at each other for a few seconds until you pull Riki into a hug — one that he knows shouldn’t feel awkward, but somehow it does.

Maybe because he knows that it’s a goodbye hug.

“Thanks. For… everything.”

“You too.” Riki says, when you two separate. “Uh… I gotta go. Coach is waiting for me.” he says, and you nod. “Of course. Have a nice practice.” you say with a smile, before turning around to catch up with Keiji.

With a conversation that lasts no less than 5 minutes, Nishimura Riki’s first and only relationship ends.

Riki is off focus for the entire training session, and even weeks after that. His jump landings are shaky, he falls more often, and even his coach mentions to him that she doesn’t feel like he’s fully… there.

He can’t stop thinking about how he could’ve lost his one and only chance at love.

He knows he’s young, and it’s a little dramatic to say — but who would fall in love with him when they know that he cares more about his sport?

It was different, because you were a skater, so you understood how he felt and agreed with him. But he knows not many people are willing to make sacrifices — and he understands.

Love is complicated.

It is even more complicated for someone like Riki.

Ever since he was young, Riki had always wanted to fall in love. His parents are still happily together, seemingly falling more in love as each day goes by. His older sister has seemed to find “the one” too, and his younger sister’s crush seems to be liking her back, from what he’s heard from her (and also from how he’s seen the boy look at his little sister when Riki goes to pick her up from school.)

But for Riki, who is the unlucky one in the family, falling in love is harder than landing a quadruple axel.

And Riki can’t even land that jump without falling yet. He’s a quarter off on rotation, so he’s getting there — but for love? Oh, Riki is way more than a quarter off.

Riki likens his love life to be a triple axel he’s going for, but then he pops it. A popped jump is a very good way to describe Riki’s love life. Going for it, realising it’s something that can’t be done without hurting himself (but in the case of love, hurting the other person), then backing away.

So, Riki decides that he’ll put love on hold for the meantime. But, it doesn’t stop him from getting a little bit jealous when he sees all his friends in happy relationships.

He wants someone who understands his dedication to the sport and encourages him too.

And that someone is you.

But, he’s very clearly lost his chance now. Your breakup was mutual — there was no animosity about it, but neither of you had taken up the offer of staying as friends.

Riki waited for you to text, and you never did. Little did Riki know that you were also waiting for him to text… and he didn’t either.

You two didn’t really talk much after that. And you didn’t end up seeing him much either, unless it was very briefly at competitions, since half a year after your breakup, you and Keiji had moved to Canada to train. But, Riki did see how you and Keiji had gotten better and better after the coaching change, and he was proud of you two for gaining such amazing scores and delivering such wonderful programs.

You could say the same about Riki too — you watched his skating online, and every single skate of his seemed to be better than the last.

Slowly but surely, you two got over each other. It wasn’t easy for you, and it wasn’t for Riki either. But you two did what you knew best to try and forget.

To skate.

The thought of love just completely slips from Riki’s mind after a few months. His whole world is skating now, and he’s quite okay with that. Love is put on pause, for Riki. And he doesn’t know if he’ll press play any time soon.

It’s just that love never seems to come at the right time for Riki. Love seems to be far away, out of reach, and something that Riki can only dream of experiencing.

Love has no time for Riki, and he does not have time for love either.

TWO. 4 continents, 4 years

“That’s a flutz. Do it again, Riki.”

Nagai Hikari, Riki’s figure skating coach, stands on the other side of the boards, eyes scrutinising Riki’s every move. Her eyes are narrowed into slits as her eyes lock in on the blades on Riki’s boots.

He takes off into a lutz, arms outstretched above his head to do a rippon. Hikari nods in satisfaction when she sees that Riki uses the correct edge on takeoff. “Better.” she says.

Riki has worked with Hikari for years — and she is not a woman who gives out too many compliments. Short and simple is the way she does it, but Riki knows that she cares.

Such as when Riki won his first senior competition. Riki had never seen her so happy. She actually had a bright smile on her face — one that Riki had never seen before.

Riki holds his hand up to tell Hikari that he’ll be taking a short break, and she nods. Riki skates up to the boards, where he sees Taki and Yuma sitting down on the bench, taking off their off-ice shoes.

“Riki with the rippons,” Taki says in his best impression of a commentator’s voice when he notices Riki. “They might as well just rename it to like… Nishimuras.”

“I would be on board with that.” Yuma pipes up.

“Stop,” Riki says.

“It’s your thing, okay?” Taki says, skating onto the rink. “That’s why they call you Riki with the rippons. You have your thing, I have mine.”

Riki skates alongside Taki, Yuma catching up with the both of them when he’s done lacing up his own skates. The three had gotten assigned the 3 spots Japan had for 4 Continents, with all three of them doing pretty well at Nationals. Riki had gotten assigned a spot at the World Championships next month as well, making the boy extra busy.

The short program was tomorrow, and Riki felt that he was quite confident in his ability to do well. If he landed all his jumps cleanly, Riki thinks that he has quite a good shot at leading in the short.

“Are you nervous?” Riki asks Yuma, whilst Taki skates away from the group to practise his jumps. From the corner of his eye, Riki sees Taki land a quad loop. Surprisingly, the loop is Taki’s favourite jump – Riki’s is the salchow, which Taki absolutely despises doing.

“Kinda. First Four Continents… I’m bound to be a little nervous.” Yuma chuckles, and Riki nods, patting the boy on his back in reassurance. “You’ll do great, don’t worry.”

“Riki, run through your short program again.” The sharp voice of Hikari catches Riki’s attention, and the tall boy nods. “Duty calls.” Riki says to Yuma, who nods.

The music to Riki’s short program plays, and as if it’s instinct, his arms move exactly the way they’re supposed to, his feet carrying him across the rink — there’s not a single thought in Riki’s mind. It’s all muscle memory now, considering the amount of times he’s done the program.

He’s got a quadruple lutz lined up first, and he steps out of the jump. Hikari presses her lips together as Riki makes a mental note to make sure to land the lutz well. He’s always been able to land this one cleanly in the free skate — but in the short program, the quad toeloop has not been his friend at all.

He takes off into a quadruple salchow-triple toeloop combination jump, landing it cleanly. He hears a few cheers from the audience, and the sound of camera shutters going off from the photographers there.

Hikari gives him a satisfactory nod from behind the boards.

The rest of Riki’s runthrough of his program is executed well enough to meet Hikari’s high standards. Soon enough, they’re all told to leave the rink since practice time is over, and the ice dancers will have to use the rink.

Riki puts his skate guards on, sitting down on the bench next to Taki. “Oh, and before I forget to ask you, do you wanna go to lunch with the rest of us? The whole 4CC team is going, with the exception of Sakura and Fuma, ‘cause they’re practising.”

Riki shrugs, taking off his skates to change into his regular sports shoes. “Sure. Where are we going?”

“Kazuha found this nice restaurant nearby the arena,” Yuma chimes in. He puts his skates into his bag, standing up to wait for the two other boys to finish putting their skates away. “Let’s leave our bags in the locker room and go. I think Kazuha, Mina and Yuta are already there.”

“I’m going to get changed.” Riki says, getting up from the bench and heading towards the changing room. He’s sweating after practice, and he’d much rather go out in fresh clothes than wear what he’s got on now. Taki and Yuma follow him not long after, and Riki changes into a black hoodie and a pair of jeans, spraying some cologne on as well.

He brushes his bangs out of his eyes as he takes his wallet and phone out of his bag, shoving them into his pockets. “You ready?” he asks Yuma and Taki, who have also changed. The two boys nod, and they all head out of the changing room.

“Where’s the restaurant again?” Taki asks Yuma, who’s got the location entered into the GPS on his phone. “A five minute walk from here.” Taki replies, and he walks in the direction of where the GPS tells him to go, and the two boys follow him.

Soon enough, the three boys arrive at the restaurant, telling the front of house staff Kazuha’s name, since she was the one who booked. The staff member takes them to their table, and Riki greets everyone before sitting down next to Taki.

But, when he turns his head, he sees Keiji sitting just one seat away from him, with the one next to Riki being empty.

“Hey, who joined us?”

Riki knows exactly who that voice belongs to, and he turns his head slowly to meet eyes with you.

Everyone at the table immediately goes silent as you and Riki stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you moving. Riki lets out a shaky breath as he looks at you — he hasn’t really seen you at all since the breakup.

“Hey.” You’re the first to speak.

Riki gulps. “Hey.”

You awkwardly slide into your seat next to Riki, and he sees Yuta wiggling his eyebrows at him, and Riki makes a mental note to send him a text message with many middle finger emojis later.

You haven’t seen Riki in a long time. He’s grown taller, way taller than you last saw him, and he’s now got dyed blonde streaks in his dark hair. It looks good on him — he looks good. As Riki talks to the others, you can’t help but stare at him. There’s a couple silver necklaces he’s wearing around his neck, and you’re sitting close enough to him to realise that he’s still wearing the cologne that you had recommended to him years ago.

“So…” Kazuha starts. “How’s Bisco?”

Riki’s eyes light up at the mention of his dog, and Hitomi notices that there’s a fond smile on your lips when you hear him talk about Bisco. After all, you did frequent Riki’s house when you two were together, and had formed a close bond with Bisco.

Riki never told you (and doesn’t plan on telling you) but after your breakup, Bisco would often sit by the door, waiting to see if you’d show up.

And you never did.

“Good,” Riki says. “I’ll go back home to see him after the competition. I try to go back as much as I can since it’s only a 4 hour train ride from Nagoya to Okayama, but — training kinda steals most of the time I have.”

“Oh, so you found out Bisco’s gender now?” you ask, absentmindedly — you don’t realise the words slip past your lips until Riki replies. “Uh, yeah. Konon told me, actually.” he chuckles awkwardly.

The tension between you and Riki is so thick that you could cut it with a knife. You didn’t think that seeing him would be this awkward, since you two had ended things amicably — but now that you’re seeing him for the first time after the breakup, you really don’t know what to say to him.

“Awks.” Taki whispers into Riki’s ear, and Riki rolls his eyes, nudging him on the arm. “Ow,” Taki says dramatically, clutching the spot where Riki had elbowed him. “That really hurt.”

“Sure it did.”

The lunch goes well for the most part, with Mina catching you and Riki sneaking glances at each other when one of you isn’t looking. There’s a sneaky grin on her lips as she watches the scene play out before her. You’re awkwardly taking a sip of your tea, whilst Riki is trying to do everything in his power to stop himself from trying to steal another glance at you. “They should talk.” Mina whispers into Kazuha’s ear.

“Keiji, practice is in an hour.” you tell your partner, and he checks the time. “Shit, right. Um, guys, we’ll have to leave soon for the official practice.” Keiji announces to the group, and Yuma nods.

“Let’s just all leave, then. We’re all done with eating.” Yuma says, and Riki nods. The boy stands up, looking at the time on his phone as you catch a glimpse of his lockscreen, and it’s of Bisco having Riki’s Worlds gold medal hung around his neck.

A smile spreads across your lips as you catch sight of the photo. “That’s cute.”

Once again, the words slip out before you realise you say them. “Sorry. Caught sight of your lock screen.” you say, and Riki shrugs.

“It’s alright.” he says, and you two just stand there awkwardly, looking at each other — you both don’t even realise that everyone’s gone to the cashier to pay (even if they all did it purposely just to get you two to talk in private.)

“So… how have you been?” you ask, attempting to start a conversation. “I’m good. Just training a lot… you know how I am,” Riki says, and you nod. “How about you? How’s Canada?”

“Oh, it’s nice there. Really cold in the winter.” you say. “Colder than Japan?” he asks, and you nod. “Sometimes. Oh, and I forgot to say — congrats on gold at Worlds last year. You did really great.”

Riki smiles at you. It’s a smile that you didn’t know you missed until you saw it again. “Thanks. I saw you there, I think — just didn’t get a chance to say hi. I’ve seen you at many competitions, briefly, actually. Just… the opportunity never came up.”

“Yeah. I saw you too. I was in the bleachers, actually. Umm… yeah, you did really great. You’ve come so far. Super proud of you.” you say, offering him a smile. “We haven’t talked in so long. How long has it been?”

“4 years, I think.” Riki replies.

“Right. 4 years… 4 Continents.” you quip, and Riki tilts his head, looking at you with an amused smile.

“Good one.”

You know it wasn’t really a good one. More of a lame joke, compared to the ones that you had told him before when you two were dating.

“Thanks.” you say, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket. “We should probably… go. They’re all gone.” you say, and Riki nods.

“Right. Yeah. Don't leave anything behind.” he says, not forgetting about your terrible habit of losing things often. He’ll never forget the day when you nearly forgot your skate bag in the bus that you two were riding on to get to the rink — thank god he was there to remind you to pick it up.

“Yeah. I won’t.” you say, checking the table once more. Riki remembering that about you makes you feel a little bit happy, somehow. To you, it shows that he didn’t really forget about you, despite not having seen or talked to you for 4 years.

You follow Riki as you two both make your way towards the cashier, Taki looking at Riki expectantly. “So… did you guys kiss?”

“What the fuck?” Riki asks his friend. “You think I’m going to see my ex girlfriend after 4 years and after maybe a… 5 minute conversation, we’re going to kiss?”

“You’re unpredictable. And you two also broke up in less than 5 minutes, so… yeah. Maybe.”

“You’re insane, Taki.”

“Are you guys going to go back to the hotel?” Sakura asks Riki, Yuma and Taki. The men’s single skating practices were officially done for the day — meaning Riki could just go back to his hotel room, flop onto the bed and sleep.

“Uh… yeah. Probably.” Yuma says. “Do you guys have any plans?”

“I’m going to watch the pairs practice.” Kazuha pipes up. “You guys are more than welcome to tag along so we can watch (Name), Keiji, Mina and Yuta if you’d like.”

“Might go take a shower before I come join you.” Taki says, and Yuma nods in agreement. “Yeah. And I’m sure Riki would love to tag along as well.” he says, and Riki knows that Yuma’s just enunciating the word ‘love’ to piss him off.

“Yeah, I’ll come.” he says.

“Nice,” Keiji says. “See you later.”

The group splits up, with Riki, Taki and Yuma walking back to the hotel, and Hitomi, Kazuha, Mina, Yuta, Keiji and you heading to the arena. But before Riki gets far away enough, you call out his name.

“Hey, Riki?”

The boy turns his head to look at you.

“It was nice seeing you again.”

You leave before he can respond.

THREE. 3LzTh

Riki heads to the arena with his hair still damp.

Not the best idea in cold weather, but he makes do. He shoves his wallet into the pockets of his jeans, Taki trailing behind him.

“How was seeing (Name) again?” Taki asks, a smirk on his lips. “I know you’re trying to piss me off, and it won’t work. She’s just a teammate now.” Riki says, shrugging.

Huh. Riki doesn’t realise that you are just a teammate now until he says those words out loud. Over the years, he’s always thought of you as something more — you mean (or rather, meant) a lot to him.

But he hasn’t talked to you in 4 years, and a lot can change in 4 years. You two might as well be strangers with a lot of history. “Ouch. Not even friends?” Taki asks.

“Things are a lot different compared to when we were 17,” Riki says. “Plus, I’ve only had one conversation with her since the breakup. Let’s take things slow, okay?”

“Just saying, I think you two might end up falling in love again.”

“You’re being ridiculous. Based on what? A 5 minute conversation?”

“Based on how I feel like you’ve never really been over her. Let's face the facts here, Riki. You haven’t even tried to find someone else after your relationship with (Name). Not even a single thought about being in a relationship with anyone else has crossed your mind.”

“Because I’m focusing on skating.” Riki replies.

“Or are you using that as a lame excuse because you know deep inside the only one who will ever be able to have your heart is (Name)?”

Riki blocks out what Taki says. He’s done with having the older boy meddle in his dating life, even if it is what got you and him together. Riki is over you. He is sure of it.

He enters the arena, sitting down next to Kazuha. “So…”

“Is this conversation going to be about (Name)?” he asks, and Kazuha shakes her head rapidly. “No, no, no.” she replies, but Riki knows that the girl is lying.

“Then what is it about?” he asks, and Kazuha doesn’t say anything.

“Uh… I forgot. Slipped my mind!” she says quickly, before reverting her focus back onto the ice. Riki sees you and Keiji prepare to do a throw jump, and he doesn’t know why Riki feels this sudden sense of dread.

It’s the same kind of dread he felt every single time when he watched you and Keiji practice in the rink when you two were together, and whenever Riki felt that terrible emotion, you would fall.

And Riki is right. You’re barely a quarter of a rotation off, and you find yourself landing harshly on the ice. On instinct, Riki stands up abruptly from his seat, his eyes wide with worry. He doesn’t notice how Taki and Kazuha share a knowing smile.

“She’ll be okay, Riki.” Kazuha tells him. Riki looks at you on the ice, still not having gotten up. He squints to try and examine your expression to see if it is one of pain — and it is then when Riki realises he can’t read you like he used to anymore.

Things have changed too much for Riki’s liking.

But this is what happens when people break up. He accepted this fact so long ago, but why has it all changed suddenly when he sees you again?

You no longer make his heart skip a beat whenever he sees you. Surely, that is the telltale sign that he is over you by now.

He sits back down with an inscrutable expression. Of course it is normal to care for you when he sees that you might be injured, is it not? But this feeling seems to be a little bit more than that — something that Riki cannot find an explanation for at this point in time.

Perhaps he should just let that thought go and watch the practice. “Don’t be worried. (Name) is strong.” Taki says.

It’s exactly the same thing he told Riki 5 years ago when he saw you and Keiji practising a triple lutz throw. Riki remembers being so scared that Keiji would throw you across the ice so carelessly — but he knows that you trust Keiji.

So in turn, he supposes that he should trust Keiji.

He watches as you and Keiji do a side by side triple loop, Riki holding his breath for the entirety of the time he sees you in the air. When you land the jump cleanly, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Riki realises that the last time he saw you skate in person was just before you two broke up. He didn’t watch your performances even when you two were at the same competitions, because he was too busy preparing for his own performances.

It’s funny, how he could’ve seen you so many times after the breakup — but there is some sort of force separating you from each other, and only bringing you two back together again now.

Taki claims that your relationship with Riki was a right person, wrong time situation. And in some ways, Riki agrees. He does know that you are the right person for him, but he doesn’t think he is the right person for you.

He watches you practice silently, thoughts of his previous relationship with you running rampant in his mind. He is over you, he reminds himself. That heart-stopping feeling he always got whenever you smiled at him, the butterflies in his stomach, and the instantaneous smile that spread across his lips at the sight of you are now all gone. Riki is just reminiscing over the happy memories he had with you, there’s nothing wrong with that.

And reminiscing over happy memories doesn’t sound like being in love at all, Riki thinks. Jokes on you, Taki.

When the official practice is over, he heads to the vending machine, wanting to buy himself some coffee. When he gets there, he sees you, standing there as well, seemingly fishing through your wallet for coins.

“Hey,” he says, and you look up, a smile gracing your lips when you realise who it is. “Hey. You came.” you breathe out.

“I did,” Riki says, rubbing the nape of his neck. “You guys did great. Did the fall hurt?” he asks, remembering the hard fall you had on the triple lutz throw. You shrug, chuckling. “Nothing I’m not used to.”

“Mmm. Make sure to ice it when you get back to the hotel.” he says, pressing the buttons on the vending machine, then slotting in the coins. He takes the coffee out of the slot, handing it to you.

He still remembers which one you like.

“Take it.”

“Riki, it’s okay — I can just pay for my own.” you say, shaking your head. Your words only prompt the boy to hold the drink out closer to you, and you take it in your hands. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t give it to you if I wasn’t, (Name).” he says, running his fingers through his hair. He presses another button on the vending machine, paying for his own drink then taking it out of the slot.

“I owe you one,” you say, and Riki shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything. Just think of it as a gift.”

“A coffee from a vending machine as a gift?” you ask, laughing. “I’ll treat you to coffee when we’re back in Japan.”

Riki tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “You and Keiji aren’t going back to Canada? Worlds is soon.”

“Worlds is in Saitama this year. Figured it’d be easier, and Hikari’s letting us train at your rink for a bit until Worlds is over.” you say.

So Riki will have plenty of chances to see you again.

“Oh, that’s really nice. Let’s try and find a time where we can both make it.”

The last sentence Riki says seems like a little bit of an insult — when he didn’t mean it in that way at all. He hopes he didn’t sound like he was blaming you for the breakup. It was a poor choice of words, given the situation that you two had been through.

“I didn’t mean it like that, by the way. I just meant in general, we should both be free for a… longer period of time when we go to the coffee shop.” Riki hurriedly tries to explain, and you shake your head, chuckling.

“Relax, I didn’t take it like that. Plus, we both know that the timing just wasn’t right.” you say, and Riki nods. “Yeah. We both know that.” he gulps.

“Right.”

The atmosphere suddenly feels very tense.

“I better uh… get going.” you say, awkwardly smiling at him. “Thank you for the coffee, Riki. Let’s talk more later?”

“Sure, of course. Um… you have my number.”

“Yeah. Unless you’ve changed it, or something.” you say, and Riki shakes his head. “Just the same. Yours?”

“Uh… same. It’s LINE, so… didn’t have to change much when I moved to Canada.” you say, and Riki nods. “Right, right. Um… I’ll see you.” he says, giving you a wave goodbye, before you two awkwardly part ways.

You turn your head to look back to see if he’s also looking back. He’s not, so you just turn back around.

As if you two are fated to just have the wrong timing, Riki looks back the exact moment you turn your head back around.

FOUR. zamboni

Today is the day of the men’s short program.

Riki doesn’t feel his best today. Something just feels off — maybe it’s because he went out with damp hair in cold weather and he’s catching a cold, but he certainly hopes that’s not the case.

He chugs some water before he goes to line up, preparing for the 6 minute warmup, unaware that you and Keiji are seated in the bleachers as spectators. You’re dressed in a black puffer jacket that you’ve had since you were 15 – really, you’re still not quite sure how you’re still able to fit in it, but it’s comfortable and keeps you warm. Keiji looks over at you, noticing your eyes scanning the arena for any sight of Riki.

“Are you looking for someone?” Keiji asks, and you cross your arms, frowning. “No,” you mumble, biting on the inside of your cheek.

Of course, Keiji doesn’t believe you. He likes to think that he knows you better than most people, considering how you two have been paired together for nearly 10 years.

“You can’t lie to me, (Name).” Keiji chuckles, and you avert your gaze from him. “You can be honest with me, you know? I mean… we live together, I throw you up into the air every single day and catch you while skating on frozen water — that at least shows that you trust me with your life, which in turn, means that you can trust me with whatever feelings you have toward your ex boyfriend, who also happens to be my friend from primary school.”

“I forgot you and Riki went to the same primary school,” you say, burying your face in your hands. “And I don’t have any… feelings towards him.”

“So you’re saying when you see Riki, your mind goes blank? Not a single thought inside of that brain of yours?”

“No, you idiot. But like… I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

Seeing Riki after 4 years has made some feelings that you had made yourself forget about long ago resurface, and now that they’re all out in the open, you don’t know what to do with them. It’s not like you’re still in love with Riki, but seeing him again makes you think of all the times when you were in love with him.

Moments like showing up late to practice due to staying a little too long at the arcade with more plushies in your arms than the amount that people throw onto the rink when you skate. Or moments like getting scolded by your coaches, who tell you that being late is not acceptable, and smiling at each other secretly, trying not to laugh while they tell you off. Moments like running to hug each other after getting your scores at the Kiss and Cry, both holding each other so tight you both feel like suffocating.

Some part of you feels like you miss those moments.

But looking at the ice, you realise that you don’t think you can have those moments anymore. They are just memories now, memories that you hold near and dear to your heart.

Because even whilst Riki is in the arena, he’s never felt further away.

Things with Riki are awkward. It’s not like he’s unwilling to become close with you again, and it’s not like you are either — but there’s just so much history between you two, things just can’t be smoothed over this easily, unlike the zambonis on the rink that smooth over the ice.

“Things are just complicated, Keiji,” you sigh, pursing your lips. “As much as I’d like things to be back to the way they were, we’ve both changed too much over the years.”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Keiji’s eyes widen in surprise, as you look at him confused. “Back to the way things were? Like… when you two were dating? Kissing? Showing so much PDA I nearly threw up on the rink?”

“No!” you say quickly, and Keiji notices the defensiveness in your voice. “Just… when we were friends. When things weren’t awkward between Riki and I. I’ll figure everything out, okay? I just don’t know when.”

“Huh.” Keiji furrows his eyebrows. “I think you’ll figure things out sooner than you think.”

“Why’d you say that?”

“No reason.” Keiji struggles to hide the smile on his lips.

“Please welcome the next group of skaters to the ice.” the commentator says, and when Riki skates out onto the ice, you immediately spot him.

But that’s not just because of your shared history together — Riki stands at 6’0, towering over all the other skaters. It’s pretty impossible to not spot him. Keiji carefully examines your expression as your eyes follow Riki’s figure as he skates across the ice.

Riki’s skating second in his group, and you watch as he takes off into a triple axel. The landing is a little shaky, and you notice him coughing slightly after he lands the jump.

“Is Riki sick?” you ask Keiji, who shrugs. “Not sure. Why’d you ask?”

“He’s coughing.”

“Could have choked on air. I do that all the time.”

Soon enough, the 6 minute warmup is over, and Riki leaves the rink. “Are you worried about him or something?” Keiji asks, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

The music for the first skater in the group starts. “If he’s sick, it’ll be hard for him to compete.” you mumble.

The first skater lands a triple axel, the crowd clapping as you and Keiji join in as well. “Riki’s strong. He can take care of himself.” Keiji says.

“I know.” you say, and then you wince when the skater falls pretty hard on a quadruple flip. “Ouch.”

The skater’s program goes relatively well for the most part, except for the hard fall on the flip. You tap your foot rhythmically on the floor, nervously waiting for Riki to skate onto the rink.

That skater is placed 8th after the short program, it’s announced. Then, Riki skates onto the ice.

There’s a strange twinge in your heart when you see Riki skate out onto the ice. His costume is gorgeous — the shirt is flowy, with sequin details on it. He brushes his bangs out of his eyes before skating to the centre of the rink, getting into his starting position.

“Try not to fall in love.” Keiji whispers in your ear.

You glare at him, elbowing him. “Shut up.”

The music starts, Riki skating across the rink elegantly. You just realised that you haven’t seen Riki skate in person in 4 years, since you never really got the chance to watch him skate even when you two were at the same competition.

The timing was never right. It never seems to be when it comes to you and Riki.

And at that thought, Riki takes off into the quadruple lutz, and he steps out of the jump. You see the disappointment in his face as he continues skating, and you frown.

“You’ve got this,” you mumble. Stepping out is better than a fall, at least — but you can tell something is stopping Riki from skating at his best. He doesn’t seem to be in the best condition today.

Then, he takes off into the triple axel. He lands it, and you clap loudly — Keiji looks at you, amused, but you’re too focused on Riki to care.

Riki’s spins are always gorgeous. They always have been. It takes you back to the times when you two would practise on the same rink, you watching Riki spin from behind the boards, completely mesmerised.

The last jumping pass is a quadruple salchow-triple toeloop, and Riki barely hangs onto the toeloop. You’re glad that he didn’t fall, and all the jumps are done now — so now all he has to do is skate the rest of the elements well.

Riki has always delivered in terms of artistry and expression. Today is obviously no exception, despite him being a little off today.

When he finishes his program, the crowd cheers, and you and Keiji clap loudly. “Let’s go, Riki!” Keiji says, even though he knows that Riki can’t hear him. Riki bows to the audience, picking up a couple of stuffed toys that some audience members had thrown to him.

“He did good.” you say, and Keiji nods.

“I think that’ll put him in 1st for now. The step out and barely hanging on for the toe loop will cost him, but… there’s 4 more to go, so.” Keiji replies, and you press your lips together in a thin line as you wait for Riki’s score to be called out.

Seated in the Kiss and Cry, Riki sighs. He’s not happy with his performance today. He thinks he’s getting sick, and that definitely affected his performance. “You seem off today.” Hikari tells him.

“Think I’m catching a cold.” he replies, and his coach looks at him with concern. “Go back to the hotel immediately after. Take some Vitamin C supplements, then go get some sleep. I’ll get someone to take some medicine to your room.”

“Thanks, Hikari.” Riki says, a grateful smile gracing his lips. The woman just nods, and Riki turns to grab one of the plushies that he had placed next to him on the bench.

Like Keiji predicted, Riki does go into the lead after that skate. But he knows it won’t last for long after the next 4 skates if they all skate clean. Riki knows that he’ll just have to make it up in the free program, but first, he’s got to focus on getting rid of this cold before it can properly hit him.

Riki leaves the Kiss and Cry, going to the locker room to get changed.

He’s unaware about Hikari messaging Keiji about getting some medicine for Riki, and as Keiji replies back, a small smirk makes its way onto his lips. When he sends the message back, Keiji turns to look at you.

“Hikari wants you to help her do something.”

FIVE. rushed entries

You find yourself with a shopping bag, being told to head up to Riki’s hotel room. He’s sick, Keiji tells you.

Exactly like you thought.

You buy more than you think he needs. There’s 2 packs of lozenges, a few cans of the corn soup that you remember that he likes, some instant noodles, a few boxes of tissues and some cold medicine. You also put in a warm blanket that you had brought with you from Canada — you figure that he needs it more than you do.

You knock on the door, and you hear Riki’s footsteps approach. He swings open the door, and he looks tired. His nose is a little bit red, probably from blowing his nose.

“(Name)?” he asks, surprised that you’re here. His voice is a little croaky, and you frown.

“Hikari says you’re sick,” you mumble. “I came by to give this to you.”

“Oh,” Riki says. “Thank you.”

“Um… you did well today.” you say. It’s still awkward between you and Riki, and you’re trying to fill the terrible silence with some sort of conversation. “Nice triple axel.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles, but then he covers his mouth with his hand to cough. “Sorry. I think I’ve got a cold.”

“It’s okay. Um…” you don’t know whether you should stay or leave.

You and Riki stand there, looking at each other awkwardly. Riki thinks he should ask you to come in — but he’s sick, and your free skate is tomorrow. He can’t get you sick.

But you’re also looking expectantly at him, as if you want to come in. Riki can’t read you anymore, so he figures that maybe he should just take a leap of faith and ask.

“Do you wanna… come in?”

It takes you a few seconds to register what Riki had just asked you. “Oh! Um, yeah. Of course.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sick, and you’ve got a performance tomorrow.” he says, shrugging. You shake your head. “No, no. I want to.”

Riki opens the door a little wider for you to enter, and you walk inside his hotel room. The boy closes the door, setting the bag that you had brought him on the table. He takes the boxes of tissues out, and then he takes out a can of the soup that you had brought him.

“You remembered.” he says, turning around with a small smile on his lips.

“Yeah.” you breathe out, sitting down on the couch. “I remember we’d always go get that from the vending machine in winter. Warmed us up after practice.”

Riki nods. “Yeah. Thank you, by the way. This is really sweet of you.”

“It’s no problem,” you say. You get up from the couch, helping him take out some of the stuff in the bag. You place the box of tissues on his bedside counter, and you place the blanket on the edge of the bed. “I brought this blanket if you need it. It’s kinda cold, so.”

“Thanks,” Riki replies. He opens the can of soup, bringing it to his lips. The soup warms him up immediately, but also brings him back to the exact memory that you’d talked about a few minutes ago. You two would head to the vending machine, buying this small can of corn soup. It warms his heart that you still remember. “Still as good as it was before.”

“I’m glad.” you reply, and Riki takes the cold medicine before he heads over to his bed, draping the blanket over himself. You sit on the couch awkwardly, just looking at Riki.

“You wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Come here,” he pats the empty spot on the bed next to him. “Or you don’t have to. It’s just… the TV isn’t exactly visible from the couch.”

“lt’s okay. I’ll come.” you say, and you walk towards Riki’s bed, climbing in next to him. You haven’t been this close with him since you two were together. It’s foreign yet familiar, and that confuses you.

“What’d you wanna watch?” he asks. You turn your head to look at him, and you realise that he’s much closer to you than you actually thought he was.

“Um…” you say, flustered. “You pick.”

“Your Name?” Riki suggests. “We always liked to watch that when we… um… yeah.”

Your Name was yours and Riki’s movie. Every single time you two had a movie night, you two would watch Your Name, huddled up on Riki’s couch, and Bisco would watch it with you both too. You’d think that after watching a movie so many times you’d get tired of it, but Your Name never got old for you and Riki.

It brings back a lot of memories. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Riki presses play. Gosh, he doesn’t know why he suggested Your Name. To be fair, it was the movie that you two always watched when you two were together — but bringing back old memories would make things awkward, and when Riki wants to become friends with you again, the worst thing to do is to bring back old memories.

But he can’t help it. You’re a familiar stranger to him now, and he doesn’t know what to do in situations like these. You’re so close, yet so far — Riki knows you, but he knows the you from 4 years ago. Who knows how much you’ve changed? Riki certainly doesn’t.

“Hah, his name’s Taki.” you pipe up, thinking of your friend Taki.

“I’ve never thought about it like that.” Riki chuckles. “Hopefully Taki meets his Mitsuha. Gosh, maybe then he’ll be less interested in my love life since he’s got his own.”

You laugh. Taki was the whole reason why you and Riki were able to confess your feelings to each other, so you do suppose that you should thank him.

You and Riki mostly watch the movie in silence. There’s occasional commentary from both of you, but you two are focused on the movie. It’s how it’s always been. You and Riki didn’t really like talking much when watching a movie — when you two were dating, he would just have his arms wrapped around you. He’d play with your hands, sometimes drawing little doodles on the inside of your palm with his finger.

The one part that has always gotten you and Riki emotional is when Taki writes ‘I love you’ instead of his own name. You remember both bawling your eyes out the first time you had watched the movie, finishing a whole box’s worth of tissues due to that one part.

“I’m going to cry,” you say. “We’ve watched this so many times, and I’ve never been able to control my emotions when it comes to this scene.”

“Don’t cry,” Riki says, looking at you. On instinct, he takes a hold of your hand to comfort you, and your eyes widen slightly. Fucking hell, Riki doesn’t know why he just did that.

But you’re now looking at him with an unreadable expression. You’ve never been this close to Riki ever since your breakup — your faces are mere inches apart. If you just leaned in a little… you shake your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the thought, but it stays ingrained into your mind. He lets go of your hand, and you don’t know if it’s the music in the background, the memories that the movie reminds you of, or what — but you feel the urge to just pull Riki close and kiss him.

Maybe your feelings aren’t completely gone.

Your eyes flicker to his lips, and Riki notices the look – it’s not very subtle at all. The boy doesn’t know what’s going to happen after this. Seeing you after 4 years has gone from awkward, to even more awkward, and now this. He doesn’t exactly know what this is, but he knows that something is going to change the entire trajectory of your relationship from here on out.

Riki is so beautiful. He’s always been beautiful.

“You got rid of your moles.” you hum.

“Yeah. I did.” he gulps.

“They were pretty.” you whisper.

You’re just saying whatever your mind’s thinking now. Nishimura Riki does tend to have that effect on you – blurting out whatever thought your mind has when it comes to him.

Riki’s cheeks flush a bright pink as you continue to admire his features. Riki is sick, and his main priority is getting better before tomorrow — but with the way that you’re looking at him right now, that priority has flown straight out the window.

Riki glances at the lanyard around your neck. It’s the one with your athlete details on it, telling everyone that you’re competing at 4 Continents. He supposes that you didn’t take it off before going to buy all that stuff for him. Then his eyes glance to your lips, and you know that Riki’s not trying to make it subtle.

You nod at him.

So he pulls you in by your lanyard, connecting your lips with his. It’s a terrible idea, in hindsight — considering he’s sick, and you’ve got a competition tomorrow, but neither of you seem to care. You can taste the minty flavour of the lozenge in Riki’s mouth from his lips, and his hand moves to cup your cheek.

It’s only when you’re kissing him do you realise how much you’ve missed Riki. Riki kisses you with such longing, and it makes you think that he’s missed you too. When you two pull apart for air, all you can do is look at him with an expression that Riki once again can't read. He simply stares at you, not knowing what to say. He doesn’t know if there is anything to say.

You don’t know if you want to say anything. You just want to kiss him again.

So you do.

You connect your lips with his once more, wrapping your arms around his neck. The movie is completely neglected now, the characters speaking just providing some background noise.

Riki was right. Something has changed the trajectory of your relationship completely — and it was a kiss. He’s very well aware that you two aren’t dating, and you two only saw each other again after 4 years three days ago. He should pull away, because he doesn’t know what this all is supposed to mean, but as your lips are on his, he realises that he doesn’t think he really cares.

Funnily enough, Riki doesn’t even think that he’s sick anymore.

SIX. 3A (fall, ur)

You wake up next to Riki.

You guess that you were just too tired to have returned to your own room last night. Riki looks so peaceful next to you, sleeping with a blanket draped over his body.

As you try to get up, Riki stirs, peeking one eye open. You just remembered that Riki was a light sleeper. “Hey…” you say, and he blinks to adjust to the light.

“Oh, morning.”

“Do you feel better?” you ask him, and he nods. “Cold medicine was good. So was the soup. And… oh.”

It seems like he just remembered the kiss. Or rather, kisses. It was a spur of the moment thing, and it’s not something that Riki regrets at all, but now it leaves a whole awkward conversation to be had with you about what it means for you and him now.

“So… about that. You know… kiss.” you awkwardly say.

“Yeah.”

“It was a… spur of the moment thing. We got caught up in our feelings.” you say, and Riki nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what happened. I couldn’t have said it better.” he chokes out.

He’s over you.

You’re over him.

You’ll blame Your Name for making you think of all those memories of you and Riki when you two were a couple. That’s what led you two to end up kissing. You know that Riki will blame the movie too. It’s not that you two have any feelings left for each other – it’s been four years! Four years is definitely enough for both of you to move on.

“Did it mean anything?’ Riki asks.

“No,” you gulp. “Nothing at all.”

“Great. Glad we’re on the same page.” Riki grabs ahold of the water bottle placed on his bedside table. You nod at his words, eyes darting around to look at anywhere else but him. “Yeah. Let’s just… forget about this, okay? We’ll just put this all behind, it never happened, and… we’ll just be friends. We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah. Of course, we’re friends.” Riki breathes out shakily, and you give him a small, awkward smile. You and Riki are friends. You guys can go back to the way things were – before the relationship, and before that… kiss last night, provided that you both don’t continue to think about past memories.

“Let’s start over?”

“Yeah.” Riki replies. “Let’s start over.”

It’s fine. You’ll just forget about the kiss – it’s not going to be that hard to forget, right? You and Riki kissed when you two were together, it’s not like it’s any different. Except that it was 4 years after your breakup, and also a spur of the moment thing. You should stop thinking about it before it completely consumes your mind and knocks you off focus before your competition, so… you just lock that memory in a little box in your brain and throw away the key.

“Oh! My competition.” you say, suddenly being reminded. You have official practice in around an hour, leaving you with extremely limited time to get dressed. “You should go. Um… thank you for all the stuff, by the way.” Riki says, and you nod.

“No problem! I’ll see you later?” you ask, heading towards the door.

“Yeah!” Riki calls out after you, and you give him a quick wave before leaving the room.

Another five minute conversation leaves your dynamic with Riki changed once more. It seems like five minutes is the perfect amount of time for you both to make drastic, huge changes in terms of your relationship.

But Riki is so incredibly fucked.

Because one, he doesn’t think he can just forget what happened last night so easily. His worst trait is that he dwells on things a little too much – and oh, boy, Riki is going to dwell on this a lot. He’s never going to tell you this because you seem to feel regret about the whole kiss, but some words that he said in that 5 minute conversation he had with you are words that he doesn’t think he really means.

Yes, it was a spur of the moment thing. Yes, Riki got caught up in his feelings. But, that kiss did mean something to Riki. Taki was right. Riki’s not over you yet, and the fact that he realises this after only 3 days of seeing you again worries him a little.

Because how long has he been suppressing these feelings for? Or how long has he been neglecting how he feels, too busy focused on skating to even pay attention to the fact that he’s missed you? These feelings arising once more so quickly and so suddenly makes Riki scared.

Scared because Riki knows that you don’t feel the same way. You’re so quick to tell him that it meant nothing to you, so quick to leave, even if you did have a reason. So quick to tell him that you’d like to start over, and so quick to be able to get over him when his mind’s stuck on you.

Riki’s falling. And it’s not one of those falls where he thinks he can get up really fast from, like an underrotated triple axel that leads him to falling right on his ass.

He hurriedly runs to unplug his phone from the charging port, pressing on the call button on his cousin Rei’s contact. She picks up, incredibly quickly – no surprise there, since Rei’s eyes are always glued to her phone whenever he sees her.

“I’m so fucked, Rei.”

“I saw the tweets. Why didn’t you tell me you and your ex started talking again?” she says, and Riki furrows his eyebrows at her words. “What? How’d you know?”

“You really think none of your fans would take photos of you two talking at the vending machine inside the arena?” Rei chuckles. Riki sighs – Rei’s right. Rei was the one Riki always went to when he needed to ask for relationship advice, instead of Taki, who’s answer was always these two words: just kiss.

“So what problem do you have now? Did you guys kiss, and then one of you regretted it or something?”

Rei must be a psychic.

Riki’s silence gives Rei the answer she’s looking for, and Riki just hears her slam her hand on the table. “No fucking way, you guys kissed? Who, when, what, where, why, how?” she yells into the phone, and Riki brings his phone away from his ear due to how loud the girl’s voice is.

“Quiet down, will you?” he says, frowning. “Yes, we… kissed. And she said that it didn’t mean anything, and that it was just a spur of the moment thing where we got caught up in our feelings.”

“Then what did you say back?”

“I agreed?”

“Did you mean it when you agreed?”

“No?”

“You fucking idiot!” Rei yells, and Riki notices that he hasn’t even put her on speaker, but his ears already hurt from how loud she is. “Why didn’t you tell her that it meant something to you?”

“Because it’s weird! I see her for the first time in 4 years after our breakup, then I kiss her 3 days later and I’m supposed to tell her how I feel when I don’t even know what I feel?”

“Yes!” Rei replies, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Riki, everyone in the world could tell that you were never really over her. You just used skating to distract yourself, but the way you two ended things was bound to leave some sort of lingering feelings. For fuck’s sake, your breakup took less than 5 minutes. I’m sure that there were words that you meant to say and words that she meant to say.”

“So what do I do now?” Riki asks, anxiously biting his bottom lip.

“You’re the one who knows her. What do you think you should do?”

Riki doesn’t know, but he doesn’t plan on involving another kiss anytime soon, despite how much he wants it to happen again.

SEVEN. figure it out

Keiji surprises you at the door of your hotel room.

“Seems like you spent the night somewhere.” he says, a sly smile on his lips. “Maybe a 6’0 male singles skater who you have some history with?”

“Shut up, Keiji.” you swipe your key card to unlock the door. “I just went to his room to pick up the jacket I left behind last night.” you lie, and Keiji raises an eyebrow.

You know he probably doesn’t believe you, but he also doesn’t pry further.

“How is he?” Keiji asks, and you shrug. “Seems to be doing fine. Bought him some soup, he took some medicine, we watched a little bit of a movie, then I left.” You obviously leave out the part where you two had kissed, because god forbid if Keiji found out, he’d tell everyone.

Then, it would make everything between you and Riki awkward again. But after your little conversation with him this morning, you think that maybe you and Riki can get past that initial awkward stage.

You just have to get rid of the thought of that kiss from your mind.

“Did he cough much this morning when you saw him? Or sniffle?”

“No, he seems to be alright.” you reply, taking a new change of training clothes from your suitcase and heading to the bathroom, locking the door. “What movie did you guys watch?” Keiji asks.

“Your Name,” you say, without giving much thought to it.

“Are you kidding me?” Keiji asks, in disbelief. “Your Name is literally yours and Riki’s movie. I can’t even watch it without thinking of you two. Are you sure nothing happened?”

Keiji knows you a little too well. You suppose that’s what happens when you’re pairs partners for nearly 10 years but gosh, sometimes you wish that he didn’t know you this well so you could get away with lying to him sometimes.

“I’m sure, Keiji,” you say, pulling your shirt over your head. You turn to look in the mirror, fixing your hair into a neat ponytail before unlocking the door and leaving the room. “Look, Riki and I are just friends now, okay? We talked last night and we’ll put everything behind us.”

“Everything? How are you supposed to forget hundreds of makeout sessions? A shit ton of hugs? Date nights that involved you two watching the same movie over and over again?”

Terrific. Keiji’s words bring you back to last night. And to be fair, he is somewhat correct — how are you supposed to forget? But you’ll find a way, right? It’s not like the thought of Riki has consumed your mind for the past 4 years when you two have been separated.

You’ll see him more often now that you and Keiji will be training in Nagoya for a bit, so you figure that it’ll be best to just pretend nothing ever happened to ease the tension between you two.

“Riki and I were friends first before we dated. I can handle this, Keiji.” you say, and you grab your skate bag. “Come on, we should head to the rink.”

When walking to the arena, flashbacks to last night keep replaying in your mind. You’re reminded of your face being inches away from Riki’s, him pulling the lanyard around your neck to connect your lips together, and the cool, minty flavour of the lozenge on his lips.

You don’t realise that you’re unconsciously bringing your fingers up to your lips. The feeling of Riki’s lips on yours still linger, for some reason, and you don’t notice how Keiji’s looking at you strangely.

“What’s up with you?” Keiji asks.

“Nothing.” you reply quickly.

You enter the arena, and you head towards the vending machine to buy a coffee. “I’ll head down soon,” you tell Keiji, who nods.

“(Name).”

You look up, and you’re greeted with the sight of Riki. “Riki! Hey,” you reply, flashing him a smile. “Didn’t know that you were going to come watch our practice today.”

“Oh, I’m not watching practice today, sorry. I’ve got a clash, since the men’s official practice is today and at another rink – I just stopped by to hand this to you.” he says, handing you your blanket. He’s folded it neatly, and you thank him gratefully before taking it into your hands.

“Thank you, Riki,” you say. “Um, you’re feeling better today, right?”

“Yeah. You asked me that this morning,” he chuckles. “Cold medicine and lozenge really did its wonders.”

You’ll never be able to think of lozenges the same way again.

The word alone brings you back to the kiss from last night, and maybe you shouldn’t have proposed the idea of putting everything all behind when you can’t even forget about that one kiss.

“Hello? (Name)?”

Riki’s voice snaps you out of your daze. “Oh! Sorry. Just competition nerves have gotten me feeling a little out of it,” you lie, chuckling.

“Hey, you’ll do great.” Riki says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You tense up slightly when Riki’s hand makes contact with your shoulder, and that’s enough for Riki to pull his hand away. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Um, I’m just really nervous. Thank you, by the way.” you say, giving the boy a grateful smile.

“You’re welcome,” Riki says, returning the gesture by smiling at you too. “I’ll head off now, but have a great practice!”

“You too, Riki.” you beam at him, and you watch as his figure disappears past the doors of the arena.

Maybe now you realise it’s a little hard to forget about your shared history with Nishimura Riki. But both of you had agreed to put everything behind you two, so that’s exactly what you’ll do, no matter how hard it is to forget some certain events (to name one of them, that kiss from last night.)

You want to have a relationship with Riki again. Not a romantic one — even though you don’t think you’d mind that if it did happen — but you want to be friends with him again. You’ve missed having Riki around.

And as you lace up your skates before heading onto the rink, you tell yourself to forget about the minty flavour on Riki’s lips for just a little while.

EIGHT. strawberry cakes and skates

You don’t spot Riki anywhere when you skate onto the ice for your free skate.

Admittedly, you are a little disappointed – but that doesn’t stop you from focusing all your attention on making sure you and Keiji have a clean skate. You forget about minty lozenges, Your Name and Riki’s lips on yours.

Forgetting about those events proves to be helpful, as you and Keiji end up on the podium. Second place isn’t bad at all, and you’re glad that you and Keiji get to add another medal to your collection. Mina and Yuta place first, and even though you and Keiji weren’t the ones to bring home gold, you’re glad that your teammates were able to.

You rush to the locker room to change out of your costume after the victory ceremony, changing into a cropped cardigan that you had thrifted from somewhere and a pair of jeans. You redo your makeup as well, since the competition makeup is a little too dramatic and over the top after you’ve changed.

When you leave the locker room, you see Keiji and Riki talking, with Riki holding a Hello Kitty plushie in his hands. You walk up to the two boys, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hey,” you say, and they both turn their attention to you.

“Hey,” Riki says, and he holds out the plushie to you. “It’s for you. Sorry I couldn’t make it to watch your performance.”

You smile at Riki as you gratefully accept it with both hands. “Thank you, Riki. And it’s no problem – I know you’re busy preparing for your own performance later today.”

“Hey, where’s my plushie?” Keiji asks, looking at Riki. “(Name) steals all of yours anyways,” Riki points out. “Unless you don’t anymore…?”

Keiji crosses his arms, feigning anger. “She still does. But I would’ve guarded the one you gave me with my life, okay? Unless you’re only giving one to her because you–!”

Riki claps a hand over Keiji’s mouth before he can finish his sentence. You watch the scene in front of you in amusement, chuckling as Keiji gives Riki a death glare. “Good job, Riki.” you say, giving him a thumbs up.

“You two are ganging up on me again… just like old times.” Keiji says, and this time it’s yours and Riki’s turn to give Keiji a death glare. Keiji bringing up your past relationship with Riki is really not helping either of you in your quest to put everything all behind, and gosh, you love Keiji to death, but you wished that he would just shut up about all this to make things less awkward between you and Riki.

“Anyways… do you wanna go grab lunch?” you ask, and Riki nods, his hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie. “I should probably go eat before my performance later,” Riki says. “Keiji, are you gonna come along?”

Keiji struggles to hide the small smirk that makes its way onto his lips. He’s got a plan, and that plan is to get you and Riki to spend time alone as much as possible. So he pulls out his phone, pretending that Taki had just texted him. “Oh, Taki and I already planned on going to eat. You guys go alone.”

“Oh, perfect – just invite Taki along.” you say, and Keiji shakes his head. “No, it’s all good! See you!”

Your partner then runs off, as you and Riki watch in confusion. “Well… that was really strange.” you say, and Riki nods in agreement. “He told me he had absolutely no plans.” Riki replies.

“Maybe Taki had just texted him.”

That’s a lie, and you both know it. It’s incredibly obvious that Keiji just wants you and Riki to spend time together, in hopes that you two will reconcile and start dating again. Little does he know that you both have decided to put everything behind – even though that has proven to be a little bit of a struggle, considering how you both can’t stop thinking of the kiss.

But, you’re not too mad at Keiji running off and leaving you and Riki alone. It provides more opportunities for you and Riki to get used to having each other around again. Since you and Keiji will be training at the same rink as him before Worlds, you’ll see Riki often anyways, and the more you see Riki, the more chances you have to get that whole awkwardness stage over.

You think it’s going pretty well.

“Where’d you wanna go eat?” you ask him, and Riki shrugs. “You pick. If you didn’t ask, I was just going to go to a coffee shop, maybe eat something light and get a coffee.”

“We can do that. I can treat you to coffee now, then.” you beam.

“You really don’t have to.” Riki says. “Let me help you get that, by the way.” he says, taking your skate bag and slinging it over his own shoulder. “It looks heavy.”

God damn it, Nishimura Riki. You can’t do these heart fluttering gestures when I’m trying to get over you, you think.

“Oh, thanks.” you manage to choke out, and Riki just nods. “Come on, let’s go.” he says, and you follow him, trying to calm the erratic beating of your heart. Riki knows exactly what to do to make your heart do flips, and he’s certainly making it hard for you to forget about everything.

“Are you nervous for your free skate later?” you ask him, walking next to him side by side. Riki shrugs, pursing his lips. “I mean… yes? I’m trying not to think about it though… that’ll make me more nervous, and I don’t wanna mess up.”

“Understandable. I’m sure you’ll do great, though. I saw pictures of your costume — it looks really nice.”

“Are you stalking me?” Riki jokes, and you shake your head no, laughing. Riki’s comfortable enough to start cracking jokes with you again. You guess he’s handling the whole “putting it all behind us” situation better than you are.

Little do you know, you are very wrong.

The sound of your laughter makes warmth bloom across Riki’s chest. He tells himself to ignore that feeling.

You two walk to a nearby coffee shop, pushing open the door as you hear the bells hung to the handle jingle. The atmosphere is cozy and warm, and there don’t seem to be a lot of people in the cafe at the moment.

“What do you wanna get?” you ask Riki, and his eyes scan the menu written on the blackboard hung to the wall. “Just an iced americano would be great. I’ll pay for my food.” he says, pulling his wallet out of his pocket.

“Nope,” you say, slapping his hand away gently. “My treat.”

“(Name), you said you were only going to treat me to coffee. Plus, you bought me all that medicine and soup — come on, let me pay for my food.”

“Just go sit down, Riki.” you say. “I’ll go pay.”

Riki opens his mouth to protest, but you just shoo him away, and he sighs reluctantly. You turn to the boy at the counter with a bright smile. His name is Jake, according to the name tag clipped to his shirt.

“Hey, what can I get for you today?”

“Two iced americanos, one slice of the strawberry cake over there and… the banana chocolate muffin.” you tell Jake, who types it into the register. “Cool. Cash or card?”

“Cash,” you reply, handing Jake the money. “Thanks so much.”

“No problem,” Jake says, handing you the change. “I’ll bring you guys your order soon.”

You thank him once again before you head over to where Riki’s sitting. He’s typing on his phone, and he looks up when you sit down in the chair opposite to him.

“What’d you get for me?”

“Strawberry cake. We’d always go get some after competitions, remember?” you smile softly, and Riki nods. “Of course I do. The shop near the rink had the best ones, remember? The lady there still knows who I am — she’s been asking about you.”

“Mrs Kimura? Oh my gosh, how is she doing?”

“Really good, actually.” Riki says. “She’s gotten her grandson to help out with the shop, and the cake’s still just as good. We should go there again when we’re back in Nagoya.”

“Definitely,” you beam. “Gosh, I miss Japan. I’m going to stop by Okayama to visit family first, though. That’s Keiji and I’s plan before going to Nagoya to prepare for Worlds.”

“Oh, that’s what I’m doing as well,” Riki says. “Konon says Bisco misses me.”

“Bisco, oh my gosh. I miss Bisco.”

Riki smiles. “Yeah, well… Bisco misses you too. You know, according to my sister, Bisco’s in love with the neighbour’s dog?”

You gasp. “No way. Fudge? That one? Or is it another dog?”

“No, no, it is Fudge!” Riki says, and your jaw drops. “Bisco would always bark at her, but we found out it was because he actually just liked her?”

Riki only found out about Bisco being in love because his sister was trying to tease him about how he “hasn’t pulled anyone since his breakup with you.” Sad, but laughable. And she isn’t wrong, either.

Jake walks up to your table with a tray in his hands, placing one iced americano each in front of the both of you. “Strawberry cake is for…?”

You gesture to Riki, and Jake sets down the plate in front of him, placing down a fork next to the plate as well as a napkin. “Muffin must be for you, then. Enjoy.” Jake says, and you two thank him before the boy leaves.

“Strawberries. I love strawberries.” Riki hums.

“Yeah, you microwave them too, like a lunatic.”

“They taste better microwaved, (Name)! You told me you understood when I made you try it before.” Riki protests, as he watches you take a bite out of your muffin.

“Well, that was because I was… you know.”

You were going to say that it was because you were in love with him. But saying that would make things awkward, and right now, you’re having a lot of fun talking to Riki. Plus, you haven’t thought about the kiss once. You’re taking this as a win.

“Is the cake good?” you ask Riki, changing the topic, and he nods, taking another bite. “Really good,” he says between mouthfuls. “I wanna buy another one after the competition.”

“I want to try it. Maybe I’ll order one for myself.” you hum.

“Just have some of mine.” Riki says, pushing his plate towards you. “Really?” you ask.

“It’s not like we haven’t shared food before.”

Right. You try a bit of the cake, and Riki’s right — it is really good. It brings you back to when you and Riki would share the strawberry cake at Mrs Kimura’s shop. Of course, it doesn’t taste exactly the same, since the frosting at Mrs Kimura’s is a little lighter.

“That’s so good.” you say, and Riki nods with a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh, you’ve got frosting there.” Riki says, noticing the smudge of frosting on the side of your lips. “Where?” you ask, and Riki leans in a little closer to wipe the frosting off with the pad of his thumb.

Unconsciously, as he does the motion — your eyes flicker to his lips once again. Riki notices, but he decides not to say anything.

Your face feels hot. Very, very hot. Riki’s does as well.

“Ahem. So…” Riki starts. “We should definitely get more of the cake again.”

“Oh, one hundred percent. It’s really good.” you say, attempting to rid the awkwardness between you two. It’s working, you think.

The rest of your lunch goes pretty well. You two talk a lot, catching up on what the other has missed through those four years of no contact, and it reminds Riki of your first conversation ever, at Junior Nationals 7 years ago.

But Riki will keep quiet about how he thought of kissing the frosting off your lips.

You also won’t tell him that you were secretly hoping that he did that instead.

NINE. slipping up

Like you and Keiji, Riki places 2nd overall.

Obviously, he would’ve liked to have taken home the gold, but he’ll just make sure to perform better at Worlds. And second place isn’t the worst. At least he got to go home with a medal, and had gotten some strawberry cake with you after the event was over.

The time on the plane ride back to Nagoya flies faster than ever, with you and Riki chatting nonstop for the whole duration of the flight. Everyone else on the team watches you both with knowing smiles, giggling to themselves as they whisper to each other about what they think is going to happen between you two.

“Something definitely happened when I sent (Name) to bring Riki medicine. Their dynamic shifted.” Keiji hums, his eyes fixated on you walking next to Riki.

“They got out of the awkward stage pretty fast, hmm?” Taki tilts his head. “They’re already acting like how they did before they started dating. Maybe it’ll take a bit of meddling to get them together.”

“You do it.”

“Why do I always have to be the matchmaker?”

“You… did it last time? Because you said you couldn’t stand seeing them acting like a couple but not actually dating?” Keiji blinks, and Taki lets out an ‘ah’ when he’s reminded of his own words from years ago.

“Ah, right. I’m a genius.”

“Quit flattering yourself,” Kazuha says, walking up to the two boys. “I think they’ll get together on their own this time.” she looks at you two with a smile on her lips.

Taki hopes that Kazuha’s right. Admittedly, he does like meddling in Riki’s love life — only because he wants to see him happy — but he kind of hopes that Riki can just gather up the courage and confess without Taki needing to “accidentally” slip up.

“Wait, where are you going to stay in Nagoya?” Riki asks you, suddenly remembering that you had sold the apartment where you used to live in before you went to Canada. “Oh, I’m staying with Hinata and I believe Keiji’s going to stay with Fuma.” you reply, mentioning an old friend of yours.

“Ah, Hinata. I haven’t seen her in a really long time,” Riki hums. Hinata was your friend who Riki only happened to meet because you two were dating at the time, and he remembers asking her for ideas on what to get you as a gift for your 6 month anniversary. He eventually settled on a set of headphones that Hinata said that you had been eyeing for a couple of months.

You still use those headphones.

“I haven’t seen her in like… 6 months? But yeah, you haven’t seen Hinata in a while. I’m just going to drop off all this stuff at her place, then I’ll pack another bag and head back to Okayama.” you say, patting the giant luggage that you’re wheeling around.

“That’s my plan as well,” Riki says, checking the time on his phone. “There’s a train in 4 hours, I’ll probably go catch that one. Do you wanna go together?”

You beam at him. “Of course. I was hoping you’d ask — a 4 hour train ride can be so boring.”

“You could sleep. You didn’t get any sleep on the plane, and you usually doze off the minute you sit down.” Riki points out, and you nod. “Well, I was busy talking to you. Plus, I’m not that tired.”

“That’s good,” Riki says. “If you wanna sleep on the train, just let me know — I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

Your heart beats a little faster than normal at his words. Mainly because when you and Riki were together, you’d often find yourselves going on the same trains back to Okayama — you would be sleeping, while Riki listened to music and drew in his sketchbook.

Riki’s sketchbook was filled with drawings of you, with some that he showed you, and some that he hid. Not because he thought they weren’t good, but because he was embarrassed at how often he’d draw you. There were just pages after pages of his doodles of you — he swears there’s one sketchbook that consists only of his drawings of you.

“Okay,” you hum.

You and Riki part ways soon after that, with you taking the train to Hinata’s apartment. You struggle a bit with walking around with 2 suitcases, but you manage to make it work. You meet Hinata at the station, and she immediately rushes to help you with your bags — but not before she wraps you in a huge hug.

“(Name)!” she says, hugging you so tight you’re gasping for air. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you say, smiling at her. “Congrats on the medal, by the way.” she looks at the medal draped around your neck — you had forgotten to take it off after the pictures at the airport.

“Thanks, Hinata.”

“So… I see from the news that you’ve been reconnecting with a special someone?” she asks, wiggling your eyebrows at you. She’s no doubt referring to Riki, of course. “Sure, I suppose you could say that. We’re going to take the train back to Okayama later today.”

“What? Riki’s stealing you from me again? Man, don’t tell me I only get to see you for a few hours today before you disappear for a week.” she pouts.

“I’m sorry!” you reply. “I’ll be back super soon, and we can go hang out as much as you want. We have lots to catch up on anyways. Well, by as much as you want, it depends on when I’m not training, because I can’t skip — Seungmin is going to kill me, but yeah. As much as you want.”

“That’s not very ‘as much as you want’, (Name).” Hinata jokes, and you sigh. “I know, I’m just so busy. Making plans is much easier during the off-season, which is soon, so don’t worry.”

“I get it. So,” Hinata starts. “What happened between you and Riki?”

You can tell her, right? Hinata’s been your closest friend since you were little — she won’t tell anyone. Most importantly, she won’t tell Keiji or Taki. So you think you’ve got the green light to tell her absolutely everything.

The apartment complex Hinata lives in is pretty close to the train station, so you two get there in no time. As Hinata unlocks the door, you figure that you should tell her now — you didn’t want to tell her now, because you were worried that she might get so shocked to the point where she shouted in the streets.

“So, umm… we had lunch together.” you start, and Hinata nods. “Then, he bought me coffee, so I said I’d treat him. But after that, he got sick, so Keiji told me to grab some medicine for him and bring it up to his hotel room — which I did, and then… we, uh…”

“You guys what?”

“Kissed.” you murmur, but Hinata can still hear it.

“You guys kissed?” she practically shrieks, and oh, you’re so grateful you decided to tell her when you two came into the apartment. She looks at you with wide eyes, as you sit on the couch, tapping your foot on the ground awkwardly.

“How did you go from buying him medicine then to kissing?”

“It just happened! It was a spur of the moment thing — but, we had a conversation, and we’ve decided to put everything behind us.” you say, and Hinata looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“And how is that working out?”

“Great! We’re good friends now. Seriously, there’s no awkwardness between us, and I’m over the relationship. Riki and I are just friends now.”

Hinata nearly bursts into laughter at your words. She just finds it so unbelievable that you and Riki can “put it all behind you two” because from what she knows about you, you’re probably overthinking every single little action from Riki.

“What? Is it so hard to believe?”

“Yes!” Hinata says, and you frown. “I’m sorry, (Name) — but is it bad to say that I see you two getting back together?”

No, not at all, you think. You think you’d love that, actually. But you would never admit it out loud, so you lie to her. “Yes.”

Hinata doesn’t believe you. Gosh, maybe you are a terrible liar. Either that, or Keiji and Hinata know you too well.

You unpack some of the items in your suitcases, placing them in drawers in Hinata’s spare room that she had so kindly allowed you to stay in for the time being. You leave only the essentials in your suitcase that you’re taking with you to Okayama, and you place your skate bag on the floor. You won’t need them for the time you’re there anyways.

You wheel the suitcase you’ll be bringing with you to Okayama out into the living room, where Hinata’s watching television. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving this soon,” she says, looking over at you.

“No, not yet. The train’s in 2 hours, so I’ll probably go in an hour and a half so I can meet up with Riki.”

“Ooh, Riki.” Hinata says, wiggling her eyebrows at you as you groan. “I regret telling you everything. Oh, and whatever you do, do not tell Keiji or Taki. Those little shits will hold it against me until I tell Riki about any possible feelings I may have for him.”

“I won’t tell them. But what do you mean about any possible feelings you might have for Riki? Are you saying you feel something for him again?” she asks, as you brush your hair out of your eyes.

“No? Yes? Ugh, I don’t know. I’ll figure it out, okay? Everything’s happening all too fast, and I… need time to figure out how I feel.”

“Well,” Hinata starts. “Take your time. Nobody said you had to rush into things. Eh, wait — you two kinda did, with that spur of the moment kiss — but hey! Whatever works for you two. Riki and (Name)… just friends!”

Yes. Whatever works for you two. Right now, you and Riki staying as just friends is working out pretty great, so you think that you two will stick to it.

“Just friends. You know it.” you chuckle.

Just friends, huh?

Those two words leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

TEN. side by side (jump)

You meet Riki at the entrance of the train station with a bright smile on your lips.

He seems just as happy to see you as well, despite only seeing you a few hours ago at the airport after your flight. “Good to see you again,” he says. “Even though I saw you a little while ago.”

“Good to see you too, Riki.” you reply, and you two walk into the train station together. Just like old times.

Riki waits for you to be able to tap your card on the reader — the train station is quite busy today, even busier than usual. You pass through the gate, dragging your suitcase behind you. “Should we grab some food or snacks? I ate a little bit at Hinata’s, but it’s a 4 hour train ride. We might get hungry.”

“Sure.” Riki replies. He points out a FamilyMart located inside the station, and you two walk there side by side. “Are you going to get onigiri?” you ask him, and he nods.

“You’re so predictable, Riki.”

“You just know me well.”

Silence. But it’s a comfortable silence. You and Riki have gotten past that awkward stage faster than you two had anticipated. Just friends, now.

Even if you two wish that you could be more. Like old times. When everything between you and Riki seemed right.

When he’d softly nudge your hands with his head when you stopped playing with his hair for a bit. When he’d hug you randomly in the middle of the ice rink, the both of you hearing Keiji’s frustrated sighs in the background. When he’d kiss you underneath the cherry blossom trees every spring.

With Riki, everything always seems right.

Even the days leading up to the breakup, you enjoyed his presence in your life, even if he could barely spend time with you, and vice versa.

You two were 17. The stress of transitioning into seniors got to you both, and it wasn’t like you two didn’t hold any more love for each other — it was just skating that had taken the little time you had away from each other.

But you two are older now. 21 years of age, no longer new to seniors, with a collection of medals stored in boxes in your rooms. So maybe, you two could make things work.

Riki lets you walk into the FamilyMart first, following you to the section that has ready made meals. Riki takes one of the salmon onigiris, while you take a ham and cheese sandwich. You check the expiry date as you follow Riki to the drinks section, the boy picking out 2 bottles of coffee.

“One for you, one for me.” he says, holding one of the bottles out for you. He knows which one you like. He always did, and it doesn’t seem to have changed throughout the years.

“Thanks,” you say, grinning at him.

You both head to the cashier to pay, the kind lady giving you a smile as you hand her the money. She bids you both goodbye before you two leave the store with 1 white plastic bag, storing the food and drinks that you two had both bought.

“The train is arriving soon. We should head to the platform,” Riki says, checking his phone. “That’s perfect. We got everything we needed in time!” you say, and he nods.

“Doing anything special for your return?” Riki asks as you both step into the escalator, and you shrug. “I’m not sure. Mom will probably surprise me, if there’s anything planned.”

“That would be cute,” Riki says. “l don’t think my parents have anything planned. Bisco’s probably just going to look at me then turn away.”

You let out a loud laugh at Riki’s words. “Wow, Bisco’s cruel.”

The train arrives not long after, and Riki helps you put your suitcase in the overhead luggage rack. Riki shuffles into the window seat first — he knows you don’t like sitting there, but you’ve still yet to explain to him why that is the case.

You sit down next to him, taking out the headphones that Riki had gotten you for your 6 month anniversary. “You still use them?” Riki asks, glancing at the headphones.

“Of course. They’re good headphones.”

He turns towards the window, a soft smile on his lips.

You tell Riki you’re going to sleep, and he nods. The boy pulls out his sketchbook and a pencil, flicking through its contents. There’s some drawings of the food he’s eaten. There’s one of Taki pulling a goofy face, and there’s one that he drew of his old broken skates.

A stark contrast to the sketchbook he owned when you two were together. Where all the drawings were ones of you.

He turns to look at you, who’s sleeping peacefully.

You’re so pretty. You make Riki’s heart skip a beat. He takes off the coat he’s wearing, draping it over your body. The aircon in the train is cold — he doesn’t want you to shiver in your sleep.

Unconsciously, a small smile spreads across his lips as he looks at you. If anyone was watching the scene, they would all say that Riki was looking at you with the softest look in his eyes, with nothing but adoration and love for you.

His feelings have never left. Riki has grown to accept that — but he doesn’t know if you feel the same. He’ll keep it quiet for now, or as long as it takes. Riki can’t lose you again.

He would rather be just friends than not having you in his life at all.

Life is more vibrant with you in it. To Riki, you are the sun. You always have been. You light up every room you enter. Your smile is infectious — just the sight of it makes the corners of Riki’s lips quirk up. You brighten up his day every time he sees you, without fail.

He gently brushes your hair out of your eyes.

Something about that simple action is filled with so much love. Riki supposes he can’t tell you about how he feels at the moment, in fear of making things awkward again, so he will settle for this.

He’ll tell you that he loves you quietly. So quietly that you might not even notice.

Riki helps you fix the ponytail in your hair the best he can without waking you up, and he hums as he ties the elastic band around your hair.

He then returns to his sketchbook, drawing things like the medal that he had just earned, the view from outside the window, and the onigiri that he had bought with you at FamilyMart.

And one sketch of you that he hides in the back of his book.

You’re asleep for the majority of the train ride. Riki taps you on the shoulder when you two have arrived at Okayama, and you crack one eye open at him when you’re awake. Riki smiles — something about your expression when you wake up is just so endearing to him.

“We’re here?”

“Yeah.” Riki says, taking his coat that’s been draped on top of your body. “You looked cold, so.”

“Thanks.” you say, smiling gratefully at him.

You grab your bag, getting up from your seat so Riki can leave as well. He helps you get your suitcase as well, and you two leave the train together, and he waits for you to tap your card on the reader once again.

“Are your parents picking you up?” you ask him, and he nods. “They should be here.” he says, looking around the train station.

“That’s nice.” you say. “I think my mom’s coming too.”

“Tell her I said hi,” Riki tells you, and you nod. “Of course I will. I think she still has lunch with your mom once a week, or something.” you chuckle.

“Ah, right. Mom has mentioned that a couple of times.” Riki laughs. He then seems to spot his family, and a bright smile spreads across his lips. “They’re here. I gotta go… I’ll see you soon?”

“Of course.”

You don’t seem to notice how Riki fixed your hair a little bit for you while you were sleeping on the train. He smiles at you before bidding you goodbye.

You turn to watch him run to his family, a small smile on your lips at the sight. Riki doesn’t leave the station before turning back to look at you.

And with that, the moon waves goodbye to his sun.

ELEVEN. rinkside

Like Riki had anticipated, Bisco simply looks at him before turning away when Riki walks in through the door.

“Well.” Konon says, as Riki looks at his dog with a pout on his lips. “Bisco doesn’t even care about me!” Riki says, placing his bag on the couch.

“He’s side-eyeing you.”

“He’s always side-eyeing everyone.”

Konon nods, agreeing with her younger brother’s words. Bisco does have what one might call a permanent judgemental stare.

Riki flops down onto the couch, Konon sitting down next to him as Bisco wanders off to… wherever he’s going. Probably to stare out the window to get a glimpse of the neighbour’s dog.

“So… you and (Name) came back together?” Konon asks, and Riki nods, grabbing the remote control for the television from the coffee table.

“We were at 4 Continents together. Plus, she’s staying in Nagoya for a bit to train before Worlds — it’s easier than going back to Canada. Their coach Seungmin’s staying with a friend, and Keiji’s staying with his friend too.” Riki explains, clicking onto Netflix.

“I see,” she hums. “I didn’t know you guys started talking again.”

“It’s recent.”

“What’s recent?” Riki’s mom asks, exiting the kitchen. She looks at her son with a curious look on her face, even though Riki’s pretty sure his mom heard small pieces of his conversation with Konon, and there’s no doubt in his mind that she saw Riki with you at the train station.

“Riki and (Name) are talking again.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Riki says, lightly elbowing his sister. Pink tints his cheeks, and Konon immediately notices.

“What do you mean to not say it like that? You two are talking, am I wrong?” she laughs, and Riki groans.

“The way you worded it is…” Riki trails off, embarrassed. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.”

“That’s nice. I liked (Name),” Riki’s mom says, a knowing smile on her lips. No matter how badly Riki’s trying to hide it, she knows about her son’s lingering feelings for you, and so does everyone else.

At the sound of your name, Bisco barks.

He really does play favourites, Riki thinks.

“I know you did, Mom,” Riki chuckles. “She told me to tell you that she said hi.”

“That’s kind of her. Tell her I said hi too.”

“So, what’d you guys do?” Konon asks, and Riki shrugs. “We didn’t have much time to… you know… hang out between the events. We had lunch first, with everyone on the team. That’s how I saw her after 4 years of no contact.”

“Oh, and then I went to watch her practice with Taki and everyone else. She did really well. Then, I kinda got a little sick, so she brought me tissues, cold medicine, soup — the ones that she knows I like — and lozenges.” Riki purposely leaves out the part where you two kissed. His family doesn’t need to know about that. In fact, he thinks that his sister would rather not know, even if he was willing to share. Konon would probably pretend to throw up, and his mom would definitely tease him about it for the rest of his life. His dad would laugh for hours, and Bisco would just stare at him with that judgemental look of his.

Riki continues rambling about spending time with you at 4 Continents while his mother and sister share a knowing look. “Oh, then we went to grab something to eat, and I got this strawberry cake, like old times, when we used to go to Mrs Kimura’s shop after practice. We have plans to do that again when we return to Nagoya. We had a lot to catch up on, so… yeah. Seeing her again was really fun.”

Konon chuckles. “Sounds like you had a really nice time at 4 Continents with (Name). You even forgot to tell us about that medal of yours.”

Konon has always liked you and Riki together. You both were incredibly similar, both loud and mischievous. You and Riki could talk about anything and everything for hours and hours and not get bored, and Konon would simply just watch in awe — she didn’t understand how two people could talk this much and not even feel tired. In fact, before you two started dating, Riki had complained multiple times when he had to leave the rink, because he wanted to talk to you more than he already had.

Konon remembers how Riki would call you his sun. And how you’d call him your moon.

She also remembers when you and Riki would have movie nights in this exact house, on this exact couch. She’d walk into the living room to get a late night snack, and see Riki’s arms wrapped around you, your bodies covered by a warm blanket.

You made Riki happy.

As a good sibling, that is all she wants for Riki in his life. Happiness.

Konon can see how happy Riki is when he skates a completely clean program. She can see how happy Riki is when he gains a new personal best score. She can see how happy Riki is when he earns a medal.

But the happiest she’s ever seen Riki is when he’s with you.

So with the way Riki’s talking about the short amounts of time he was able to spend with you at that competition makes Konon feel like yours and Riki’s story isn’t over yet. The glimmer in his eye returning, the way he’s smiling the entire time when he’s talking about the moments he shared with you, and the excitement in his voice as he details every moment tells her that her brother is still incredibly in love with you.

She hopes that he realises it. Or has already realised it.

But she knows Riki is too cautious, too worried that he’ll make a mistake when it comes to you. She doesn’t want him to just stand on the rinkside, constantly overthinking every move he makes when it’s related to you. So she figures that someone will have to give him a little push.

Before 4 Continents, Konon has heard her brother’s constant complaints about how he’s the only one in the family who hasn’t found love yet. But it’s clearer to her now than ever that Riki has always been the first one to find his person.

Words like how the universe might just simply not want him to fall in love, words like how maybe he’s not made for the thing called love.

But, the universe decides that it is the right thing to do to bring you and Riki back together. It has been too cruel to you both over the past couple of years — pushing the idea of knowing that you might’ve just lost your chance with the one and being left to wonder if you’ll find someone that can make you feel love the same way that person did.

But, the universe now decides to bring the sun and the moon back together.

One of them just has to take the first step.

TWELVE. on ice / off ice matchmakers

Riki doesn’t see you at all during his time in Okayama.

You two both don’t take the same train back as well, since Riki left for Nagoya a little earlier than you’re planning to. He texted you, asking if you were going to be on the train that day, and you replied with a ‘no’ and a sad face emoji.

You told him that you’d be staying a bit longer to spend more time with family, considering you hadn’t seen them in months. He tells you to have fun, and that he’ll see you back in Nagoya. You reply with a thumbs up and a heart emoji.

He can’t believe that his face heats up because of a stupid heart emoji. Riki thinks that he’s even more in love now than he was then, and maybe it’s because of a mix of those old, lingering feelings with the addition of the new ones that he’s developed over 4 Continents — the point is, Riki is crazily in love with you.

Riki returns to the rink with the thought of you on his mind. He sees Keiji there as well, alongside his coach Seungmin. Hikari doesn’t seem to be here yet, and neither does Taki.

“Hey, Riki!” Keiji says, skating up to the boards. “How was Okayama?”

“It was good. Spent some time with my family, chilled at home, witnessed my dog try to court the neighbour’s dog, you know, normal stuff.”

“Your dog is trying to court another dog? Also, what’s with the sudden use of formal language?” Keiji asks, laughing loudly at the fact that Bisco is trying to romance another dog.

“I didn’t know how else to word it? Is saying that my dog is trying to date another dog a better way of putting it?”

“I can’t believe Bisco’s pulling before me,” Keiji says, sighing. “Oh, and I almost forgot to ask. Did you spend any time with (Name)?”

Keiji wiggles his eyebrows at him, and Riki just looks at him, unamused. “No. I didn’t.” he replies, and Keiji gasps dramatically. “No way. Riki, what?”

“(Name) was spending time with her family. I’m seeing her here anyways — I don’t want to take away time that she could’ve spent with them while she’s there.” he explains, sitting down on the bench to put on his skates.

“Okay, that makes sense, I guess.”

“You seem very hellbent on trying to get me and (Name) back together.” Riki hums as he finishes lacing up his skates. “Look, she’s great. And I… hmm. The thing is, if she doesn’t feel the same way anymore, then it’s not going to happen.”

“Are you indirectly saying that you’re still in love with her?”

Riki doesn’t say anything as he takes off his skate guards and skates out onto the ice.

“Riki! Riki!” Keiji calls out after him, trying to catch up to him. “It’s a yes or no question, it’s just one word, come on, man!”

“You’ll figure that out.”

“That’s a yes?”

Riki doesn’t say anything once more, and Keiji takes his silence as an answer.

Oh, Keiji is so incredibly excited. Knowing that Riki still likes you and also knowing that your feelings for Riki have never left (despite you denying it constantly) has opened up so many new doors for him to come up with a scheme to get you and Riki back together.

Keiji usually wouldn’t meddle in his friends’ relationships – that’s more of Taki’s thing, but like Konon, he knows that without a little push, you two would never do anything about it. Keiji would hate to see you both just deciding to let your feelings for each other slowly melt away when he knows that you two are practically perfect for each other.

Keiji’s coach, Seungmin, looks at him with a curious expression, wondering why his student looks so excited suddenly.

Seungmin had started coaching you and Keiji when you both moved to Canada. He and his pairs partner Yeji had recently retired, with Yeji wanting to pursue a different path away from the ice, and Seungmin wanting to transition to coaching.

“What are you so excited about?” Seungmin asks when Keiji skates back to the boards. “You know how Riki and (Name) used to date, right?”

Seungmin nods. Keiji has been talking about it constantly after 4 Continents, and since he wasn’t coaching you and Keiji yet at the time when you and Riki were together, he is quite intrigued about why the whole team wants you both back together.

“Riki still likes her. Maybe even loves her? Not sure. But I swear (Name)‘s been secretly hung up on her relationship ever since they broke up — she’s just made herself so busy to the point where she could forget about it. Plus, they didn’t break up because they didn’t love each other anymore, they did it because skating got in the way!”

“And you think skating won’t get in the way for them now?”

“No? They’ve both matured. They can find that healthy work-life balance.” Keiji says, and Seungmin tilts his head. “You do know that Riki lives here, in Nagoya, and we train in Montreal, all the way over in Canada.”

“Long-distance!”

“What are you guys talking about?” Taki asks, walking up to them, and a wide grin immediately spreads across Keiji’s lips.

Taki is quite literally known as the matchmaker in the group. It’s incredible how he can pick up on people’s feelings for one another even with just one interaction with the smallest hint of interest. Riki jokingly says that it’s because he has nothing to do better with his life, but Keiji thinks that it’s a gift from whoever’s above.

“Your friend and his ex.” Seungmin tells him.

“What about Riki and (Name)?” he asks, a mischievous smile on his lips. He looks at Riki, practising his twizzles on the rink. “Is he finally not in denial about liking (Name)?”

Keiji adds mind reader to Taki’s list of gifts.

“Yes. You must know him very well.” Seungmin says, and Taki nods. “I’ve witnessed every single part of their relationship. The beginning, the end, and now, finally, the return.” he says, feeling very proud.

“We should try and get them back together.”

“But Kazuha said that they’ll probably get back together on their own. I feel like my magical matchmaking services aren’t needed in this case,” Taki says, sitting down on the bench. “What a rare thing to say, I know. I think we just have to get (Name) out of her denial phase, and they’ll both just tell each other. They love each other too much to keep that a secret.”

Taki not meddling in a relationship for once? Keiji is surprised.

“You’re right.” Seungmin says. “Just sit back and watch for a bit, maybe. Then we can see how to go from there, right?”

“We? Coach, do you wanna be part of the plan?” Keiji asks, shocked at his coach’s response. He didn’t expect Seungmin to even agree with him meddling in your love life, much less wanting to get involved with getting you and Riki back together.

“(Name) deserves to be happy,” Seungmin shrugs. “You guys seem to think that he makes her very happy. Plus, I used to be quite the matchmaker a long time ago, back when I was in college.”

“That was like 5 years ago. Why are you talking like you’re 45?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Shush, Keiji. When (Name) gets back, they’ll probably spend more time together. When we’re not training for Worlds, at least.”

“You’re right.”

“Hey Riki?” Taki calls out. “Yeah?” Riki replies, skating closer towards the three near the boards. “Are you planning to see (Name) anytime soon? Like after she comes back?”

“Yeah, why? She’s going to be training here anyways. She wants to go get strawberry cake at Mrs Kimura’s after practices.” Riki replies, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Riki smiles at the thought of seeing you again. The three matchmakers standing near the boards, however, are smiling for a different reason.

THIRTEEN. skate guards

You arrive in Nagoya 2 days later.

Riki’s eyes light up when he sees you enter the rink, and it does not go unnoticed by Taki and Hikari. Taki silently giggles to himself, and Hikari just looks at you, before looking at Riki again.

Hikari has never said anything about your relationship with Riki, not even when you two were dating. The woman is also impossible to read, so Riki never knew if she approved of his relationship with you. She’d only scold him for being late, and saying that dates weren’t excuses to skip out on practice.

But he knew that Hikari didn’t dislike you.

“Hey!” you say, skating up to Riki. “Hey, how was your trip back?” he asks, giving you a side hug. Taki and Keiji give each other one of those looks, whispering amongst themselves, as Seungmin just watches your interaction from afar.

“It was nice! I actually bumped into your sister yesterday,” you chuckle, and Riki widens his eyes. Oh gosh, he really hopes Konon didn’t tell you about how he was basically rambling on and on about spending time with you at 4 Continents. “Don’t worry! She didn’t say anything bad. She just said congrats on the medal, and that the next time we’re both back our families should go and grab dinner together.” you say, noticing Riki’s alarmed expression.

Riki lets out a sigh of relief, and you look at him with an amused expression. “What, you thought she’d say something else?”

“No, no. I was worried she’d say something strange.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing.”

Riki says the word with such quickness that it makes you a little suspicious, but you brush it off. “So… how was your trip? I didn’t get to spend time with you then, so I figured you must be busy with family.”

“It was good. Bisco has been trying to romance Fudge. I’m unsure if it’s working,” Riki chews on his bottom lip as you laugh. “And I thought you were busy with family, so…”

“It’s okay. At least we get to see each other now,” you say, beaming.

His heart just does a strange flip, and his cheeks feel hot, face tinting pink all the way up to the tip of his ears. He blames the cold instead of your words.

“Yeah. We can go get strawberry cake after this?” he asks you, and you nod. “Of course. I’ll go get practicing now, since Keiji just seems to be… staring at us. Then we can maybe go get strawberry cake around… 3?”

“Of course. It’s a date.”

Riki then skates off, leaving you with your face feeling hot this time. It’s a date? You know he means that he agrees to the time that you’ve set for going to Mrs Kimura’s shop to get cake, but you know that it can also mean something very different.

You wish that he meant it in a different way.

You have been in denial about your feelings for Riki for a while now. The signs are all there — from thinking nonstop about the kiss, to his words and his actions making your heart flutter like it used to.

Oh, you realise. You still love Riki.

You don’t want to leave everything in the past. You want to continue where you two had left off 4 years ago. You want to hold Riki like you used to, hug him like you used to, kiss him like you used to.

You want things to go back to the way they were before.

You stand there in the middle of the rink, eyes following Riki’s figure as he skates across the rink, doing a gorgeous layback Ina Bauer as your heart thumps faster and faster.

Maybe things could all work out now. Just maybe.

You gulp, hand touching to feel your cheeks — they’re warm, and you tell yourself to snap out of it. You should hurry up with skating so you can go and spend more time with Riki.

You skate up to the boards, and Seungmin looks at you with a small smile on his lips. “So… Riki, huh?”

“Coach, come on. I wanna focus.”

“I was just asking! And yes, let’s focus.” he says, and you nod. “Keiji, get over here! Stop whispering to Taki.”

Keiji sighs, telling Taki that he’ll talk to him later. He skates up to you both, hands on his hips. “What are we doing today?”

“Everything, Keiji. It’s Worlds in less than a month, and we want that medal.” you tell him, and Keiji nods. “Come on, let’s go.”

You and Keiji skate away from the boards, and as you fiddle with the hair tie on your wrist, Keiji asks you about what you and Riki were talking about.

You immediately shake your head, saying that it’s nothing important with a soft smile on your lips. “Let’s focus now.” you say. You want to keep your conversations with Riki a little more private now, considering how you know that Keiji is prone to telling everything related about you and Riki to Taki.

During the practice, you don’t miss Riki’s occasional glances at you. When you catch him looking, he simply gives you a thumbs up, telling you that you’re doing great.

You thank him quietly, as Keiji struggles to hide the cheeky grin on his lips.

You also don’t miss Hikari telling Riki to focus on his own practice instead of yours as you and Keiji twizzle across the ice. There’s a soft smile on your lips at her words, for some reason.

Practice goes smoothly for Riki, for the most part. He does fall a couple times on a few quads, but during the final runthrough of his program for the day, he lands them all cleanly. Hikari gives him a nod in satisfaction, telling him that he did well. Riki thanks her, and she gives him a close-lipped smile.

He exits the rink, putting his skate guards back on. He spots your purple ones placed on the bench. You still use the same ones as 4 years ago.

“Um, Seungmin? Could you tell (Name) I’ll be waiting for her? I’m just going to get changed.” he tells your coach, who nods. “Of course. Have fun.”

Have fun getting changed?

It doesn’t register in Riki’s mind until he’s in the dressing room a few minutes later that Seungmin means that Riki should have fun spending time with you.

Riki exits the changing room after spraying some cologne on, changed into a hoodie and a pair of jeans. You’re the one putting on your skate guards now, and you tell him that you won’t be long.

He nods, waiting patiently next to the vending machine as he sees you disappear into the women’s changing room. You appear a few minutes later in a fresh change of clothes, smiling at him.

The sight of you makes his heart skip a beat.

“So… should we go?”

“Of course. Let’s go.” he says. He bids goodbye to Seungmin, Hikari, and Keiji — Taki is nowhere to be seen, for some reason.

You and Riki leave the rink together, leaving your bags at the rink since you two would come back later anyways. The walk to Mrs Kimura’s shop doesn’t take too long, since it’s just across the street. You haven’t seen the kind lady in years.

Riki pushes open the door, letting you enter first.

“Welcome!” the voice of Mrs Kimura makes you smile, and as you approach the counter, the old lady seems to recognise you. “Oh my. Is that (Name)?”

“Long time no see, Mrs Kimura!” you say, smiling brightly at her. Mrs Kimura walks around the counter, approaching you to give you a warm hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages! Oh, and Riki’s here as well! I didn’t know that you two got back together. That’s so sweet.”

“Oh, we’re not together, Mrs Kimura.” you say, chuckling awkwardly. Riki nods, and Mrs Kimura lets out a small ‘oh’.

“Well, sorry for misunderstanding.” she laughs, and you shrug. “It’s quite alright. You did see us come here often when we were together.”

“Yes, I did. You two were adorable together.” she beams. “So, the usual for you both? Strawberry cake?”

“Of course. That’s very kind of you for still remembering.” you say. “Riki still comes here often, after practice. Just you know, without you around.” Mrs Kimura says, looking at Riki, who’s gone to sit at the table closest to the window. That table was where you two would always sit whenever you came here.

“Oh, I see.” you say.

“He seems to have missed you quite a bit, over the years. I would ask about you, and he’d just tell me he didn’t know with this sort of… sad look on his face.”

You didn’t know Riki felt that way.

“But I’m glad you and Riki are talking again.” she says, as she cuts two slices of the strawberry cake. She places them on small plates, pushing them towards you. “Free of charge today.”

“Oh, Mrs Kimura, no. I’ll pay.” you say, and the lady shakes her head. “No, no, no. Just seeing you again after a long time is enough. I have missed seeing you almost every day, you know.” she replies.

“I’ve missed seeing you every day as well. And thank you so much, Mrs Kimura.” you say.

“He’s looking at you.” she whispers to you.

“Hmm?”

“I think he really likes you.”

You smile, looking back at Riki. “I think I really like him too.”

FOURTEEN. when the ice melts

As the World Championships inches closer, you and Riki find yourselves training more intensely each day.

The only time that you two can spend together without being stressed about preparations for Worlds is at Mrs Kimura’s shop, ordering 2 slices of strawberry cake like usual. You and Riki talk about everything but skating, such as Riki giving you updates on how Bisco’s mission on trying to romance Fudge is going.

According to his mother, it seems to be going well.

“Bisco is going to get a girlfriend before you do.” Taki says, taking a sip out of his water bottle.

Riki glares at your pairs partner. “Actually, I have exes.”

“Correction, you have one ex. Who just so happens to be standing next to you.” Taki gestures to you, who’s awkwardly standing there. You opt to give a thumbs up with an uncomfortable smile, making Taki burst out in laughter. “Yes… us… exes!” you say, and Riki copies your action, awkwardly giving Taki a thumbs up as well.

Taki laughs even louder.

“You guys are funny,” Seungmin says, placing his bags down. “Where’s Keiji?”

“Not here yet,” you say. “I’ll just practice some solo jumps?”

Seungmin nods, telling you that it’s a good idea. You tell Taki and Keiji you’ll get practicing before skating off, leaving the two boys and Hikari standing near the boards. “So… are you going to tell her?” Taki asks Riki, and the younger boy looks at him, feigning confusion.

“Tell her what?”

“That you like her.” Taki says, as the two boys watch you skate around the rink, before taking off into a triple loop. “What do you mean?” Riki asks.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Riki. I’ve been stuck with you since we were both 3 years old.” Taki nudges the younger boy, who doesn’t say anything. “I’m really not going to meddle with your love life this time. I swear. I know you and (Name) will get together on your own, so… I’m stepping away.”

“You’re acting as if being a matchmaker is your job, Taki.” Riki chuckles, and Taki shrugs. “It’s my part time job. I’m a full time figure skater, mind reader, and a part-time matchmaker.”

“Mind reader?” Riki questions.

“Yeah. I’m reading your mind right now, and your mind is telling me that you like (Name), but you’re too scared to tell her because you don’t want to screw things up all over again.”

Riki flips Taki off, who gasps, feigning offence. Riki despises how Taki knows him so well. Or maybe that Riki just isn’t doing the best job at hiding it.

“I don’t… what?”

“Riki, it’s just me. You can be honest with me.”

“You’re probably going to tell (Name) like you did all those years ago. Look, Taki — I don’t think it’s a good idea this time.” Riki sighs.

“Explain what you mean, Riki.”

“I… don’t think I should tell her how I feel,” Riki confesses. “Not only is it too early, but also, there’s a multitude of other factors that just tells me that if I confess, things might not turn out the way we want them to again. She lives all the way in Canada, I live here — our lives revolve around skating all day, and with the 13 hour time difference too, I don’t think a romantic relationship can survive all that, even if she likes me back. Plus, we’ve just started being friends again. Look… I would rather have her as a friend, than lose her completely.”

“Riki, but you really like her.”

“I know.” Riki sighs. “I always will.”

“But relationships are complicated. Love is complicated, even more so for people like us who dedicate our lives to our sport. I just don’t want to lose (Name) once again. Because at 4 Continents, I finally realised how empty life seemed without her in it. Those 4 years separated her were, no offence to you, and everyone else around, but less… vibrant, in a way. And now that we’re back in each other's lives… I don’t want to go back to how uninteresting and boring life was before.” he muses. Taki listens to him intently, his lips slightly downturned into a frown.

“Plus,” Riki chuckles. “I don’t even know if she likes me back.”

“Of course she does, Riki. What are you even saying? She looks at you as if you’re her entire world.” Taki says, and Riki smiles slightly. “That is a nice thing to say. I would like to get back together with her, if she did like me back.”

“But if not, I would rather things between (Name) and I to stay like this instead of… you know.”

Riki doesn’t know that you hear him say those exact words as you skate by the two boys. You didn’t hear the parts they said before, but you sure did hear what Riki said about wanting things to stay the same.

“What do you mean by you know?” Taki asks.

“Seriously, man? I would rather things stay like this rather than having no relationship at all. I thought it was clear, considering everything else I had said earlier.”

But to you, it is not clear at all. Without context of Taki and Riki’s previous conversation, you’re left thinking that you were wrong.

Riki really doesn’t like you back.

You feel your heart shatter a little at his words. You held up the tiniest bit of hope, and all this came crashing down with just one sentence from the boy’s lips.

But really, what did you expect? He told you that he agreed that it was a spur of the moment kiss at the hotel. He agreed to leave it all behind, and it seems like he held up on his part of the deal.

However, you didn’t.

Nishimura Riki twizzles right into your heart once again and ends up breaking it.

You should’ve expected this to happen. Falling for your ex boyfriend after only a couple of weeks of talking again? Sounds like a recipe for disaster. You were just stupid and foolish enough to think that maybe you and Riki could be a thing again, and look where it got you.

You try to rid your mind of the thought. It doesn’t hurt this bad. The breakup didn’t hurt like this. I should be fine.

To forget about the words that Riki had said, you decide to just focus on practicing your solo jumps. Keiji still hasn’t gotten here, and for once, you actually want to confide in him.

You then take off into a triple flip.

His words must’ve messed with your mind a little. You’re not as focused as you usually are, which is to be expected — so your body makes an impact with the cold, hard, ice.

Every fall hurts a little bit.

This one hurts a little more than usual.

When Riki sees you fall, he immediately skates over to you. “(Name), you okay?” he asks, worry laced in his tone. Somehow, him skating over to help you back up makes your heart twinge a little.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” you murmur, and Riki holds out his hand for you to take so he can pull you back up. You take his hand, and butterflies erupt in your stomach — even if you tell them to stop.

Riki doesn’t like you back, you tell yourself. He’s just really nice. He’s always been really nice. That’s why you fell for him in the first place.

“Careful,” he says, as you give him a smile that doesn’t really quite reach your eyes. Riki’s able to read you like he used to now, and he can tell that you’re not quite happy with something. “Yeah. I will. Thanks.” you say, before skating off, leaving Riki confused.

You were okay before. Did he do something wrong? Were you upset because you fell on the flip?

He skates back to Taki with a confused expression on his face. “(Name) seems upset.” he frowns, biting on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe it’s because she fell on the flip.”

“Maybe…” Riki trails off. But he knows you well enough to know it’s not that. Sure, you’d be a little disappointed, but you wouldn’t usually let it show on your face.

“Boys. Let’s get practicing.” Hikari says, and the two nod. Keiji just so happens to arrive, and you sigh in relief. “You’re here!” Riki hears you say as he pulls his black gloves onto his hands.

As Riki practices, he tries to not think about your upset expression. But, Riki is an overthinker — he just can’t help it. He hopes that maybe he’ll be able to lift your mood a little bit later, but the thought of you being upset distracts him a little, and Hikari notices.

Of course she would. She notices everything.

And when Riki lands a quadruple salchow shakily, Hikari decides to call him over.

“Is something distracting you? What’s on your mind today?” she asks him.

Riki looks at his coach, a little shocked. She never usually asks him about personal stuff. “No, it’s just… forget it. I’m sorry.” Riki says, and Hikari shakes her head. “Don’t lie to me, Riki. Worlds is in a few weeks, and I don’t want anything stressing you out because it’ll hinder your performance. Just tell me.”

Riki turns his head to look at you and Keiji, and Hikari understands immediately.

“Are you still in love with your ex girlfriend?”

“Coach, I…”

“It’s very obvious, Riki. Why is that bothering you then?” she asks. Riki sighs, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Because she seems upset. And I can’t help but wonder if I did something that made her feel that way.”

“Did you say anything?”

“I don’t think so. I wouldn’t want to say anything that would hurt her feelings, considering that I do like her.”

“Then you’re fine. Focus on skating. I can help you handle this.” Hikari says, and Riki looks at his coach, shocked. “What?” she asks.

“You’ve never talked to me about anything regarding my personal life. I’m just not used to this at all.” he confesses, and Hikari shrugs. “I’ve been your coach for the majority of your life. I pick up things that you don’t notice until later. Such as how when I knew immediately that you and (Name) would be together after you two started talking at Junior Nationals that year.”

“Oh,” Riki says. “I just… I don’t know. I like her a lot, but skating seems to get in the way.”

“You both need to find that work-life balance. As a coach, I should be telling you that skating is the most important. But, your relationships with others are just as important, and if you love her as much as you do, you should keep your relationship with her as a priority as well.”

“Okay.” Riki breathes out.

“Now get back to practice. I’ll talk to (Name) later.”

FIFTEEN. compulsory figures

Nagai Hikari has always intimidated you.

Riki’s coach stands at 5’1, but she is incredibly scary for some reason. The lady has a straight face almost 90% of the time, and you remember the times where she’d scold you and Riki for being late to practice with pure anger on her face. Of course, you understood why she was so angry, but that didn’t take away how frightening she was to you.

So when she asks you to talk after your practice is over, you’re a little bit scared.

Riki is somehow nowhere to be seen. He left the rink a little while ago, disappearing into the changing rooms — and you don’t think you’ve seen him leave, but you also don’t know where he is.

You know Riki isn’t that cruel to go to Mrs Kimura’s shop without you, so maybe he’s still in the changing rooms, or he’s gone off to somewhere else when you were too busy practising to notice.

“Um, what’s this about, Ms Nagai?” you ask her, as she pats the seat next to her, motioning for you to sit down. “Riki tells me you’re upset.”

You don’t know why his coach is telling you this, but you stay and listen.

“Um… I suppose so. Why’d he tell you?”

“He was distracted during practice today,” Hikari hums. “I figured it might be because he’s thinking about you.”

Your face heats up a little after hearing Hikari’s words. “And… why would he be thinking about me?”

“Because he loves you.”

Hikari gets straight to the point.

“That can’t be right,” you chuckle awkwardly. “I just overheard him saying to Taki that he likes how things are between me and him, and… he’d rather it stay like that then… you know.”

“Did he say what the ‘you know’ was?” the lady asks you.

“No?”

“The ‘you know’ is not even being in contact with you at all. Riki is scared of losing you completely if he tells you how he feels.” Hikari tells you. “You should go tell him how you feel, because after hearing what Taki and Riki were talking about, I don’t believe he will be the one to make the first move.”

“But how do you know that I still like Riki?”

The lady looks at you as if the answer is obvious, because Hikari really can’t believe you had just asked her that — you and Riki have never been able to hide any sort of feelings that you had for each other. “You look at him the same way you did when you two were younger. Like he is everything to you. He looks at you the same way. Don’t lose him again. And don’t hurt him.”

“He looks at me like that?” you ask her, and she nods.

“All the time. You just must have not noticed,” she says. You sigh, and Hikari frowns. “Why are you sighing? I just told you the words that you wanted to hear.”

“No, I know, Mrs Nagai — it’s just hit me right now that even if Riki and I continue our relationship from 4 years ago, things will be even more complicated and hard. The time difference, the flights, everything will be harder than before, and we couldn’t even survive that.”

“You two will make things work. You both love each other too much to not even give your relationship a second chance.”

The lady gets up out of her seat before walking away, leaving you to register everything she’s told you in your short conversation with her. So you had just misunderstood. Nagai Hikari knows Riki very well, arguably better than some of Riki’s friends, considering how she’s literally watched him grow up.

She has watched you grow up too, with you and Keiji training at this exact rink just with a different coach. She had been there when your relationship with Riki had sprouted, blossomed, then wilted.

Hikari’s silent observations prove to be useful to you. Riki loves you, she had said. Your heart fills with joy at the sound of that.

But now you know that you’re the one who needs to make the first move, and nervousness courses through your veins. The last and first time you’ve ever confessed to someone is after Taki had left it all out in the open. You two just whispered a meek ‘I like you a lot’, and then Riki asked you if you’d like to be his girlfriend.

You had said yes.

You don’t think the confession should go like that this time around. Your first confession lasted no longer than 5 minutes. Your first breakup lasted no longer than 5 minutes.

Love is special. It should be treated as such.

6 years ago, as a teenager and after Taki exposed your feelings for each other, you should have told Riki how crazily, stupidly in love he made you feel. You should’ve told him that every second, every moment you shared with him sparked this feeling of joy that you couldn’t possibly ever describe in any shape of form. You should’ve told him that there is nobody else in the world that you could ever imagine feeling this way for.

And 4 years ago, after you both came to the realisation that things weren’t working out, you should’ve told Riki that you wanted to try and fix things. You should’ve told him that even though everything was going south, those short moments with him that you managed to squeeze into your busy schedule was the only time you felt like you were at peace.

You should’ve told him that despite everything, you still loved him.

So this time around, you’ll tell Riki all the words you never got to say during your first confession, and during your breakup.

The words “I like you a lot” are not remotely enough to describe your feelings for Riki. You could write entire paragraphs about your feelings, and 5 words, 12 letters is nowhere near the length of a paragraph.

You get up from your seat, looking around to try and find Taki. When you do, you immediately run up to him, startling him a little bit. “Do you know where Riki is?” you ask him, and a sly smile spreads across his lips.

“You look like you’re in a hurry.”

“I’m not.”

“Okay. Well, he’s gone to see Rei. He says that she’s not feeling well.”

“Ah,” you say, pulling out your phone. Sure enough, there are a couple messages from Riki.

Rei’s throwing up, I think she ate something bad. Had to leave early to drive her to the doctor’s. I won’t be able to get strawberry cake with you at Mrs Kimura’s today, but I bought you a slice and dropped it off at Hinata’s apartment on my way to Rei’s. Hoping it lifts your mood a bit. See you tomorrow!

Knowing that Riki had even gone out of his way to buy you a slice of the strawberry cake and drop it off at Hinata’s apartment himself when he couldn’t go to the shop with you today makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

You can’t believe you’ve found someone like Nishimura Riki.

“What are you smiling at?” Taki asks you, even though he already knows the answer. Don’t worry about it, and thank you for the cake! Hope Rei feels better soon, you write, before tapping send.

“You know the answer without asking, Taki.” you say, before grabbing your bags and leaving the arena.

You return to Hinata’s with a bright smile, strawberry cake waiting for you and your feelings for Riki stronger than ever.

SIXTEEN. in every universe, 1Lo<.

Riki heads to the rink much earlier than he usually does on a Wednesday morning.

He’s hoping to get in more practice time today, since his practice was abruptly cut by Rei getting food poisoning, leading to Riki needing to drive his cousin to the hospital.

The streets of Nagoya are awfully quiet this early in the morning, and as Riki walks by empty streets with his headphones on, he quietly admires the city that he calls his home away from home.

The boy pushes past the doors of the arena, the cold air from the rink brushing against his face. It’s not possible for someone to be here this early in the morning — hell, he knows that even Hikari isn’t awake right now.

The boy quietly places down his bags, pulling his skates out. He puts his skates on, placing his regular sneakers into a shoe bag that he stuffs into his skate bag. Riki finishes lacing up his skates, and he walks over to his locker, shoving his bags in there.

Riki removes his skate guards before skating out onto the ice.

The ice has never felt so comforting to Riki, especially during preparations for Worlds. Perhaps he should start practising much earlier than he usually does.

But then he hears the doors of the arena open, and he curiously looks towards the entrance to see who would possibly come here this early, other than him.

It’s you.

He doesn’t know why something so simple, such as you walking through the doors makes his breath hitch. Butterflies flutter in his stomach, and despite how cold the rink is, Riki has never felt so warm.

You seem to spot him, and you hurriedly lace up your skates before skating onto the ice — seemingly not even bothering to put your skate bag away into your own locker.

“Morning,” you breathe out.

Riki doesn’t know how nervous you are.

“Morning.” Riki smiles at you, and just at the sight of his smile, you swear you fall in love with him all over again.

“How’s Rei?” you skate beside him, and Riki shrugs at your words. “She’s doing okay, I think. Her friend Gaeul’s taking care of her, since she knows I’m busy preparing for Worlds. I should go and see her sometime soon though, just to check up.”

Riki seems to suddenly remember something. “Oh, did you get the cake?”

“Yes, I did!” you say with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eye. Warmth blooms across Riki’s chest at the sight of your joyful smile. He’s glad he’s the one who was able to make you smile like that. “I’m glad Hinata didn’t eat the cake.”

“Me too.”

Then there’s just silence between you and Riki. It’s not a comfortable silence, but it’s not awkward, either. It’s just you, trying to get yourself to muster up the courage to tell him what you’ve wanted to say to him, and Riki, sensing that you’re about to tell him something, but nothing seems to slip past your lips.

Riki decides that he doesn’t quite like the silence. “Are you okay from yesterday?”

“Hmm?”

“You seemed upset. I got worried.” he confesses, looking down at his skates. A tiny smile appears on your lips.

“I’m okay. It was just me overthinking.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Is this the right time? you ask yourself. You don’t know what exactly to say. All you know is your feelings towards Riki are so strong that you just can’t keep it a secret anymore. You don’t have a clearly thought out paragraph to tell him how you feel, you don’t have anything rehearsed — all you have are your feelings.

“I love you,” you blurt out.

You just hope that your feelings are enough.

Riki stops in his tracks.

“I have never stopped loving you, and it’s killing me that I only realised a couple weeks ago. Less than 5 minutes seems like all the time we need to make major decisions regarding our relationship — but I don’t want 5 minutes. 5 minutes is too little for me to tell you how much I like you. It’s too little for me to tell you that even when we were 14 years old, with our eyes set on nothing but flashy titles and gold medals, I knew that you would be the only one that I could ever find myself having these types of feelings for. It’s too little for me to tell you that during those 5 minutes of our breakup, I should’ve gathered the courage to tell you to stay.”

You take a step closer to him. “And I know that with my confession, I’ve opened up hundreds, even thousands of doors of problems that could happen in our relationship. Staying as just friends would and could have avoided all that — but I don’t want to be just friends. Hikari is right. I love you too much to not even try and give our relationship a second chance, and I… I don’t know. I suppose that I should tell you that I wish that I didn’t propose the idea to leave our relationship all behind when you kissed me at 4 Continents. I wish that I didn’t tell you that it was all just a spur of the moment thing — I wanted it to happen. And after it did happen, I wanted it to happen over, and over, and over again.”

“I don’t know. Perfection is everything that we have strived for,” you mumble. “Every day, we are told to execute certain things to perfection. And I know that we’ll never be as perfect as we are on the ice. But I don’t need perfection when I have you.”

You pour your entire heart out. You’ve said every single possible thing that comes to mind, and your mind is now just blank. You don’t know what Riki’s going to say, what he’s going to do — all you know is that you could feel nothing but overwhelming joy in the next second, or overwhelming, crushing, heartbreak.

You can’t read Riki’s expression. He seems like he’s still trying to register all the words you had just said.

But then he tugs on the sleeve of your jacket. You look at him, confused — until you see the widest smile you’ve ever seen on Riki’s face.

“I love you too.” he beams, and you feel that overwhelming feeling of joy. You wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his chest to hide the stupid, lovestruck grin on your lips.

You look at him, and Mrs Kimura is right. He does look at you as if you’ve got stars in your eyes. “I was scared to tell you how I felt. Because I was worried that you wouldn’t feel the same way — and I couldn’t lose you all over again,” he mumbles.

“You’ll never lose me.”

Riki’s lips quirk up into a smile. “I didn’t want to forget about our shared history after the kiss. I guess that I’m just always too fearful to tell you how crazily in love I am with you.”

“I guess that makes us crazily in love with each other.” you whisper to him.

He nods, a breathy laugh escaping past his lips. Riki then leans in to connect your lips with his, and everything feels right. Everything has always felt right with you. The flavour of the minty lozenge from the kiss at 4 Continents is instead replaced with your strawberry flavoured chapstick, and Riki brings his hand up to slowly cup your cheek.

Your first confession was at this rink. Your breakup was at this rink. And now your second first confession and second first kiss is also at this rink.

This time, everything is exactly the way you had imagined it. Nobody is there to interfere. No words have been left unsaid. This time, it is just you and Riki, and you know that perfect is not an ideal word to describe things, given how much pressure the word alone in a different context holds — but everything is perfect.

Riki doesn’t know if soulmates exist or not. But if he did have one, he knew it would be you. You both are like two missing puzzle pieces that match perfectly together — as if he was made for you, and you were made for him.

When you both pull away, Riki rests his forehead against yours. “I watched a movie a few days ago,” he whispers.

“What was it about?”

“The multiverse,” he replies, lacing his hands with yours. “Hundreds and hundreds of different universes. And I thought to myself: in each and every universe, I would still want to find my way back to you.”

Your heart swells to the point where you think it’s about to burst at the seams. “And I would always want to find my way back to you, too.”

Nishimura Riki is yours, as much as you are his. He has never left your heart the second he twizzled his way into it, and you truly are surprised how it took you this long to accept it when everybody else (but Riki, too) had known that you two would eventually find your way back to each other.

Wherever you are in the world, I will search for you.

And as Riki presses another kiss to your lips, he knows that love is no longer some sort of mystery he cannot figure out anymore.

Riki realises that love isn’t as complicated as he thought. Love, to Riki, is you. It is the most simplest of definitions, and Riki knows the meaning will never change for him.

Riki may be still a quarter of a rotation off on that quadruple axel, but for love? Riki isn’t a quarter off at all anymore.

He puts love on pause, because he will only ever press play when he finds his way back to you. Love is no longer far away, out of reach, and only something Riki can dream of experiencing anymore. He is with you, your hand in his — and everything is right.

You twizzle your way right into Nishimura Riki’s heart all over again, and he knows you’ll stay there for a very, very long time.

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