Finding Atlantis (part 18)

Finding Atlantis (part 18)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: WE DID IT! I bet you all thought i wouldn't follow through on my promise hehe. Well guys...this is it. The final chapter. I have no idea what to say because this story has so much of me in it and i'm just...at a loss for words after all the ones ive put in it. I'm considering an epilogue with anything extra you all may want to see (unanswered questions, deleted scenes, life after the story, etc.) So let me stop talking and lets get into it! WARNING: depression mention alongside pretty severe symptoms

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Death is easy.

It’s dying that hurts.

Only those from Atlantis can survive under water. You know that. Baekhyun knows that. It’s an ability that, as regular humans, you will never have.

Death by drowning. Death by blood loss. Death by blade or gunshot. These are all things you’d long predicted would inevitably take your last breath from you. Old age, illness, or natural causes never seemed like probable deaths. A peaceful death isn’t one your lifestyle affords. You’d leave this world the way you’d entered it, no holds barred, all or nothing.

You’ve never feared death.

No.

You’ve only ever feared dying.

You’ve found fear in the pain, in the ugliness of it –never of actually being dead. You’ve only ever worried about the thoughts you would have as you came to the realization that you’d never live another day in this life. You imagined feeling scared, of gasping out agonized breaths.

You never imagined that dying could feel like melting in the embrace from someone close to your heart. Like a suffocating darkness that is eased away by warmth and light. A feeling that carries a gentleness that can only be given through a touch imbued with love.

You never imagined that dying at the bottom of the ocean would lead to you washing up on a regular old beach in the afterlife.

When you open your eyes, you see an early morning sky above you. You can hear the wind whistling through the trees and waves crashing against the land. You can feel the wet sand beneath your palms and the salty water droplets rolling off your face. The afterlife feels all too similar to home.

Sitting up, you can see that you’re still in the outfit you died in. You’re in the outfit you died in, the sun is rising on the horizon, and a copy of your ship is bobbing calmly on the water not far ahead.

All your limbs are intact. You muscles ache but that’s nothing new to you. Water droplets bead on your forearms as the morning sun begins to evaporate it. An anxiety settles in your stomach and you follow the urge to look around for any other signs of life.

Of souls?

Of the gate, or passage to wherever the hell you are supposed to go now that your own fleeting life has ended.

Throat tight, you look around the mostly empty beach.

And you find Baekhyun seemingly not breathing not far behind you.

You scramble on to your knees and lean down to see if you can feel his breath.

Not again…

Maybe this is secretly hell. A replica of one of your happier moments, but you’re forced to spend eternity waking up and finding Baekhyun dead or dying in a new way at your side.

When you lean down again to find he is still unmoving, you attempt to breathe life into his lungs. It feels ironic given your situation.

He finally livens up. Water and acid come out of his mouth as soon as he opens his eyes.

Relief overcomes you at the sight of him and as soon as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, you press your lips to his –desperate for touch to prove to you he’s there.

“You taste like vomit,” you sob happily.

He grimaces and leans up on his elbows. “You’re the one shoving your tongue down my throat after I threw up, you nutcase.” He groans and looks around. “Where the hell are we?”

“Didn’t we die? Aren’t we in some kind of limbo? Davy Jones’s locker.”

He laughs, wet with the water still in his lungs. “I don’t think this is quite what the afterlife looks like. Your ship is right there, there are still signs of life around us, and besides; we’d have ended up in different places. Different lockers, right?” he rationalizes.

It takes you a moment to consider his words –to really feel the sand on your palms, the heat on your skin, the beating of your heart in your chest. You’re still alive somehow, after all of that. You were so far below the surface, there’s no way the two of you should have survived that.

“But…how?” you whisper to your shaking hands.

“I think…” Baekhyun coughs, looks out at the water. “I think Junmyeon guided us to safety somehow.”

You think back on the feeling you felt just after the initial suffocation and you turn to face the water as well. You recall the warmth and safety that came with what you thought was death. “…I…Yeah. I guess he did…”

The water laps lazily against the sand. Calmly.

At peace.

You close your eyes and let the full weight of your reality set in. You’re alive. Junmyeon is gone. He saved you somehow.

Junmyeon is gone.

The tears spill before you can even try and verbalize the realization. You curl into yourself and let the hard sobs shake you to the very core. Baekhyun doesn't say a word.

What couldhe say? Nothing would change what’s been done.

Instead of speaking, he wraps his arms around you to let you weep until you no longer can.

~~~

When your crew realizes that it’s you and Baekhyun who have washed up on the island, they send out a dinghy immediately. By then, your tears have gone, but the lump in your throat won’t go away no matter how many times you swallow around it.

“I miss him,” you mutter as you watch the dinghy get closer to the beach.

“I know,” Baekhyun replies.

“But, he’s happy now.”

He hesitates as he looks out at the water. “…I know.”

Questions are thrown at you as soon as Yixing and Chanyeol make it on land. Baekhyun just shakes his head at your side and they quiet. You’re thankful for the silence.

Your body shakes violently, but your mind is numb.

The joy of your crew as you climb on deck is overwhelming. You look at all the faces emotionlessly. When people begin to sense that something is wrong you lower your gaze to the floor and walk towards your quarters. You can’t speak, not right now. Not when you aren’t even sure what they expect you to say. And you surely can’t plaster on a grin.

The door closes behind you, and the shaking only worsens in your solitude. You let the wet clothing, the only physical reminder of your time in Atlantis left, carelessly fall from your body. More out of habit than by conscious thought, you pull on something dry.

When you bury yourself under your covers, you can’t stop the tremors no matter how hard you try.

~~~

Hours pass. Or maybe it’s a few minutes. It could have been half a day, you can’t be sure. All you know, is that in the time between you closing yourself off in the room and the first person coming in to check on you, is that you haven’t been able to go to sleep.

Every time you close your eyes for more than a few seconds you’re haunted with the sight of Junmyeon’s smile as he thanked you. That and then his still form in the sphere of water. Every time you tried to sleep, you just ended up crying.

Yeri is the first person to knock. She peaks her head in and says words that hold no meaning to you. When you show no sign of responding, she retreats.

Yixing comes in next. He tries to make conversation. Checks you for any obvious injury or illness. Frowns despite seeing nothing physically wrong. You think he tells you that you need to eat.

Jongin and Kyungsoo come in together. Kyungsoo with a tray of food, and Jongin seemingly just there to see you with his own eyes.

When they give up trying to coax words out of you they leave the food too.

You push it to the floor just to hear it clatter. To hear something.

The door opens for a fourth time and you want to exhale in frustration. Why does no one understand that you want to be left alone?

A cup of tea is set on the table where the food once sat. You tiredly raise your eyes to the face of the newest intruder. Baekhyun looks down at the mess on the floor with pursed lips. You decide then to avoid his eyes.

He rounds the bed and sits on the other side. You can feel his weight against your back. A dry sob finds its way out of your mouth. You would feel embarrassed if you had the energy to.

A sigh is all you get from him. You can feel him shifting and the sound of his boots hitting the floor before the covers lift and he crawls under. He doesn’t say anything. You turn to face him. His eyes catch yours before you can even think to look away.

When he opens up his arms, your lip trembles and you hide yourself against his chest without second thought. He holds you tightly, as if his arms are the only thing keeping you from breaking apart.

You let your eyes fall closed. Thanks to the warmth of his body and the thumping of his heart, you’re finally, finally, able to fall into a dreamless sleep.

~~~

You wake up alone. The tea on your bedside table has long gone cold. You don’t need to touch it to know. The lethargy in your bones lets you know that you got at least a few hours rest –plenty of time for a hot cup of tea to go stale. You frown and fight the urge to throw the cold glass across the room.

Sitting up, you dig the palms of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Stars and non-shapes flash across your vision when you reopen them.

Frustrated, you notice that nothing has changed when you open your eyes. The room is the same. The tea is still cold.

And you’re still alone.

What now?

You never thought about what you would do after Junmyeon was gone. Hell, you hadn’t thought that Junmyeon would die.

Where do you go from here? Are you just supposed to get up and sail on? Find a new mission? Make someone else your new first mate?

The thought of that alone makes you feel sick. You aren’t ready to think about that.

What do you do now? You don’t want to think, you don’t want to feel, you just want to lie in bed and pretend this never happened. Maybe have a dream where thisis all just a dream.

Should you eat? Should you go talk to someone? Should you throw yourself over the side of the ship? If you’re lucky, maybe you’d hit a rock and die from head trauma. You’ve drowned enough in this lifetime, you think. You couldn’t handle drowning being the last thing you ever felt.

The compass catches your eye, flipped open and on its side on the bedside table. That probably happened when you flipped over the food.

Automatically you reach out for it and cradle it in both of your hands. There’s no way you can make a decision for yourself right now. Maybe the compass will help lead you to what you should focus on doing next.

A breath in. Closed eyes. Cleared mind. A heavy breath out.

You open your eyes and see the needle of the compass slowing moving from the left towards your door.

Baekhyun must be about to walk in, you think bitterly.

And he does.

There’s a fresh tray of food in his hands. He falters in the doorway when he sees you sitting up with the compass in your hands. He doesn’t say anything as he walks to the side of the bed –where he’d slept- and places the food there.

He reaches over and closes the compass in your hands. “Don’t look at that thing right now. You’re in the middle of mourning.”

Mourning. That sounds right. You couldn’t place the feeling until you heard it.

“You should eat something,” he says softly. He settles on the bed at your side. “I cleaned up the food on the floor earlier, and we all figured you would feel somewhat better with fresh food.”

You don’t reply.

“Eat something. You can’t starve yourself.”

You clench your fingers around the closed compass.

Baekhyun groans exasperatedly. “You haven’t eaten or had any water in nearly 48 hours. Do you not care? I don’t expect you to say anything, but the least you can do is not sit here on your ass trying to kill yourself by refusing to eat.”

There’s nothing for you to say to that. You hadn’t realized how long it had been, but even then you don’t want any food. The thought of eating makes you feel nauseous.

The compass is snatched from your hands. “Okay fine. You don’t want to eat? Then decide on the next plan of action. Where do you want to go huh? You want revenge? Wanna go kick Poseidon’s ass? Let’s do it. Just get up and do something, you can’t waste away like this. Not after everything you’ve been through.” He opens the compass up and immediately puts it back in your hands.

As always, it turns towards him.

He looks at it in confusion. You exhale and let it fall from your hands. Baekhyun looks from you to the compass with furrowed brows before he picks it up himself. After only a second he holds it in your line of vision.

The needle unwaveringly points towards you.

So, what?

You sluggishly drag your gaze back up. His jaw is set in determination.

“It points towards you too. It won’t stop pointing towards you. From the start of this, it’s only been you. I’m here…I’m trying to be here with you.” He sounds as exhausted as you feel.

You bite your lip to hold back a fresh set of tears.

He rakes a hand roughly through his hair.

“I-I love you.” He pauses and you see the shock in his eyes as he realizes what he’s said. You clench your fists at your side. “I…love you, and I’m sorry it took you losing Junmyeon, us nearly dying 10 times, and your confession for me to finally say it. I don’t think I could tell you when it started even if I wanted to, but that doesn’t matter.” His face burns red with embarrassment but he pushes on. “What matters right now, is that I’m here, you’re here, and you’re killingyourself. Do you hear me?

“Junmyeon wouldn’t want to see you like this. I don’t want to fucking see you like this.” He licks his lips and exhales shakily. “We still have so much to fight over. Don’t you still wanna kick my ass? You can stab me again if you want, I don’t care, just…please,” he begs. He lowers his head into your lap and his hands clench around the sheets. His face is hidden from view but you can see the shake in his shoulders as he tries not to cry.

Silently, you reach over the grab the cup of water in your trembling hands. You drink a few mouthfuls but it doesn’t feel as though it really helps. Baekhyun looks up with red rimmed eyesat your movement.

You grab a piece of soft bread and break off a piece and hand it to him. He opens his mouth to eat it. You break another piece off and feed it to yourself.

Until the food is gone, neither of you say a word to each other. It’s only when he sits up to clear away the tray that you find the energy to speak. “Stay with me, please.” Your fingers curl around his wrist to keep him from leaving. You silently notice that he’s paler than usual, and his wrist is thinner.

As if he’s been in a similar state of distress.

If he wanted to, you still think he could escape your hold without even trying –given the comparatively worse state you’re in. “You help keep the nightmares away. You…you being here helps me sleep.”

He blinks at your admission and then nods. “Of course. I’m here. You couldn’t make me leave even if you wanted to.”

You lower yourself back down to your side, nearly chin deep under the covers as he settles in next to you. This time when he opens his arms, he doesn’t wait for you to close the distance. He pulls you closer on his own.

After a few minutes of quiet, “I don’t know what to do now,” you admit softly. He hums in question. “I never thought this far ahead…I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“Just take it day by day. You don’t have a plan in place now. It’s okay to take some time to just feel, to do nothing. That might be what’s best for you until you get back on your feet. It doesn’t matter what you do. Just take it day by day.”

~~~

The days get easier, or maybe you become more accustomed to feeling like shit.

Who knows?

It’s decided that everyone will head back to Arae and take a well deserved break. After all that has occurred, some time on land to recuperate is the least the crew could use.

It takes a week before you’re able to finally call a meeting with all the crew to discuss what happened while you, Junmyeon and Baekhyun were in Atlantis.

You give your retelling and Baekhyun chimes in to fill in blanks where needed. Once you describe the last moments with your former first mate, you actively see people’s eyes glassing over.

Even as you try to convince everyone that he is content with his decision, you hear the uncertainty in your own voice.

“So…that’s just it? Mission accomplished, I guess.” Yixing runs a hand through his hair. “This is a lot to hear.”

“I understand that there may still be confusion and that emotions are high after all of our recent events. I’m still trying to come to terms with it all myself. Let’s just get to port and then everyone can rest and take the time they need,” you say to the crowd. “We can figure everything else out later. Junmyeon was treasured, and was proud of each and every one of you. Never forget that…”

You end your address with a nod to your men. The weight of a hand on your shoulder gives you just enough strength to summon the authority of a captain in your voice. “Anchors aweigh! Man your stations! We’ll be heading northwest until we’ve set our course for Arae!”

Your words snap everyone to attention, and the deck bursts with movement.

“I want a record of how our food rations are looking! I need a headcount of our men! Sehun, you’re on the helm until I get back!”

For the first time in a while, you feel the rush of being in charge. Of being in control of the things occurring around you. You would puff up with pride if the thought hadn’t reminded you of all that you’ve recently had no control over. Of the things…the people…you’ve lost.

The hand on your shoulder squeezes. “You’re doing a great job. You don’t have to push yourself any further than you can handle.”

You turn to look at Baekhyun head on. “I’m fine. Let’s go chart our course to port before I get the urge to vomit in the middle of the deck.” You grimace.

His hand drifts to your nape. The smile on his face is affectionate, warm, loving. “C’mon then.”

~~~

You wake up in the middle of the night feeling like all of the air has been stolen from your lungs. Sitting up with a start, you clutch your throat to check if anything was physically choking you. The candle you’d put out before going to bed burns brightly on your bedside table, but your throat is no longer constricted.

Baekhyun, who has unofficially moved into your quarters (not completely unwanted), is dead asleep at your side. You look around the room slowly, hand itching to grab a weapon in case you’re being ambushed. Being woken with such abruptness has your guard raised.

A glint of gold catches your eye as the candle flickers in the darkness.

A golden seal. Wax with an unfamiliar emblem pressed into it holding closed a note by the flame.

Confusion causes your eyebrows to furrow, but curiosity has you reaching out to grab it. The paper feels strange in your hands. Smooth and glossy, but wet. The water droplets don’t soak into the note; you’re able to wipe them off easily without disturbing the integrity of the odd parchment.

As you open it, you recognize the handwriting immediately.

Dear Captain,

I’m writing this hurriedly in my bedroom, so I apologize if it doesn't read as easily as it should.

I decided that you deserve a proper explanation. After the experience with the guardians earlier, I knew that I needed to tell you what things will happen next. What my purpose of being here is for. I fear there’s not much more time before I will lose my chance to talk to you.

The guardians of the ocean were never meant to last for all of time. They lose power just as all things do, and certain events can trigger a power outage faster than others.

Events like my leaving home.

You might have been able to put together the pieces from what Jongdae was saying, but my reason for leaving was quite simple.

I knew that I would have to die to restore power to our guardians.

I knew that I would have to die, so I wanted to live before I had to give up my life for the kingdom. I didn’t think much of it when I left. I didn’t have any plans or any idea of where I would go. I just needed to leave. I needed time to enjoy my life while I could.

But every action has a consequence. By leaving, I unintentionally caused not one, not two, but three of our sacred guardians to lose power. If I don’t step in, then we may very well lose a fourth and I can’t let that happen. I refuse to let that happen.

All this is to say, that this note is my goodbye to you. It is my goodbye to the crew. If things go as I expect, then the fourth guardian will lose power soon and I’ll have to give up all that I am in order to restore at least the guardians that we lost in my absence.

This is a goodbye, and I know you must be thinking, ‘there must be another way’, but there isn’t. This is the only way, and I’ve long accepted that.

However, I’ve gotten to live a full life thanks to you taking me in that one rainy night. Thanks to the crew for being a family for me and dedicating so much time and spilling s much blood just to get me home. Being able to sail with you all, experiencing the good and the bad of being human, has steeled my resolve. I will do this to protect humanity. To protect the seas. To protect my family, both in Atlantis and aboard my real home on the Storm Chaser.

I never planned on leaving any trace of my existence on land. I thought I could exist and vanish without a trace, but in a way I’m grateful that I will be able to complete the prophecy with people who will remember me as me.

Not as a prince.

Not as a cursed child of Posiedon.

Not as Suho the Guardian of the Ocean.

But as a man. As Junmyeon. As first mate of the Storm Chaser.

Thank you for everything, Captain. Continue to sail the seas happily and healthily. I know that you’ll continue to be a protector and a home to many more lost souls like mine. Live a long life. For me.

Yours truly,

Kim Junmyeon

P.S. you should give Byun a chance to get his thoughts together. From what I’ve gathered, you stunned him and he is just as much in love with you as you are him. We’ve all be telling you this for so long

P.P.S please clean up your quarters. I won’t be around to help you keep things in order, so for me, clear away all those damn posters.

Your eyes flit over to the messy pile of wanted posters that have spilled onto the floor and you feel a smile stretching across your lips. You run your thumbs across the paper a few times to keep your mind distracted as you scan over the note again.

Having this final piece of him here in your hands fills your chest with emotion. An ache, a fullness, a kind of pain and a kind of happiness. It’s a lot to process so soon after waking.

“Euurggh,” you hear him rising before you feel him shifting beside you. “What are you doing awake so soon?”

“A letter.”

“I’ve got a letter for you, it’s ‘Z’ and it means lay back down and get some.”

You can’t help how your eyes roll. He’s as annoying as ever, but he’s right. You only get a few hours of rest before you have to take over from Yixing for the night. The letter, figuring out where it came from and what to do with it, can wait a few hours more.

You fold it back neatly and set it next to the candle before blowing out the flame. It’s presence in the room is heavy, but you are determined not to deal with it until you wake again.

Burying yourself under the blanket, Baekhyun attaches himself to you immediately to sap you of your body heat. “Baekhyun…”

“Mm.” You contemplate briefly bringing up the note, but think better of it. Instead you focus on the heat he radiates against you. You feel warm all over.

“You know…you’re the only one who’s said it so far.”

“Mm?”

You shuffle up and cup one of his cheeks in your hand. He opens his sleepy eyes to gaze at you in confusion. You take the moment to really accept this moment. You can’t lie to yourself and say that you’re happy, but you can see yourself being happy in the future. In this moment, it’s clearer now than before. You may no longer have Junmyeon at your side, but Baekhyun is here. He’s here, he genuinely seems to care about you, and he said he loves you.

You hadn’t even had the courage to say those words when you’d been sharing your own feelings in that hallway. The words felt too real. Too permanent. But now, in the darkness of your room, everything feels…right.

“I love you.” You press a poorly aimed kiss to the corner of his lips. “I love you…a lot.” A giddy feeling bubbles up in your stomach. “It kinda makes me disgusted.”

“You just had to ruin the moment at the end there didn't you?”

“I can’t have you thinking I no longer think that you’re a bastard.”

“But I’m your bastard.”

You snort. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

He presses a messy kiss to your mouth. You laugh at first, taken off guard by the suddenness of the action. He pulls you closer to his body, and the kiss develops into something more purposeful.

Your hands on each other hold so much more meaning now. There’s no hidden feelings here. No rush of any kind. No need to hide tenderness for fear of being to vulnerable. Just two lovers who want to cherish the person in their arms. You brush your lips against his temple. “Baekhyunie…I really do love you,” you whisper before placing a peck against his earlobe.

He groans deep in his throat, hides his face in your neck. “You’ve gotta stop using that nickname when we’re fucking. I’m never gonna be able to hear it again without my dick getting hard,” he breathes hotly against your skin. A laugh escapes you without warning.

He breathes out a laugh of his own before pulling away and kissing up your neck to your forehead. His lips linger there. “God, I love you.”

You hum happily. “I could get use to hearing that.”

“Oh, shut up.” He says softly. “Go back to sleep. I’m too tired to do anything else. We can continue after a few more hours of rest.” You wrap your arms around him and place your head on his chest. “We can deal with whatever is in that letter tomorrow too, get some rest for now,” he yawns out.

You’d almost forgotten about the letter, but you don’t feel any desperation to address it. You’ll sleep for now. Punctuated by a light kiss to his skin, you murmur quietly, sincerely, “I love you.”

His arms tighten around you in acknowledgement and you fall asleep at peace.

~~~*Three months later*~~~

“Are we ready to leave port?”

“Yes Captain. All members are present and accounted for.”

“Good. Our heading is southeast, let’s make haste. I want to get this bounty quickly. We’re rusty, we need to start with something easy.”

“Ay, Captain.”

Leaving port is always as gratifying as it is stress inducing. There’s nothing that can quite match the rush you feel when you see your fellow crewman rushing around your ship, bringing her to life again, after months at rest. Raising the sails and cleaning down her surfaces before taking her back out home on the open sea, that rush is what excites you most in this world. The entire vessel buzzes with energy as your men call out to each other across the ship ensuring that she’s prepped and safe to take out on the water.

“Uh…Captain? We’ve got an extra in our headcount.”

You whip around at Yixing’s voice.

“Long time no see,” the new face says, smile as bright as you remember.

“Jongdae?” you can’t believe your eyes. It’s been months since you saw the younger prince last. The last place you expected to see him again was on land, in Arae no less.

“I figured you might be needing an extra hand here and there. Although I don’t know much about working on a ship, I know plenty about how the currents and how the ocean works.”

Yixing looks from you to Jongdae in confusion. “So…you know this guy?”

“Yeah...yeah. He’s Junmyeon’s younger brother.” Your words stun your quartermaster so much so that his mouth drops open.

“Speaking of my brother, did you get the letter I delivered?”

Letter?

The note!

“You put that letter there? We couldn’t figure out how it could have possibly ended up there.” You’d all spent hours thinking of ways that the letter could have been snuck aboard, and even longer trying to make sense of the paper itself. After reading its contents, everyone aboard the ship felt as though they’d finally gotten the proper send off deserved of your first mate. Most questions had been answered, and everyone felt content in the way things had played out, even if it meant Junmyeon was no longer with you all.

“Well yeah. Junmyeon wanted it to go to you after he took over as guardian. I had to do my part to fulfill that wish. That, and getting you all the treasure you were promised.” Its then that you notice the enormous cases being loaded on the ship –cases you know the crew hadn’t packed themselves.

“Treasure?”

“Gold, jewels, shiny stuff you humans like.”

Yixing rushes over to a case to open it. “Are these all full of treasures?”

Jongdae nods easily, as if the fortune he’s brought has little meaning to him. “Of course.”

“This would set the entire crew for generations Captain…” Yixing says in awe.

You blink at Jongdae dumbly.

“There’s just one favor I have to ask in return for delivering all of this,” he starts. “I need you and your crew to help me with my destiny.”

“Of fucking course there’s a catch. What? We gotta help you on a suicide mission next?” Baekhyun’s voice shakes you out of your stupor. He tosses an arm over your shoulder. He’s gained more weight in the months at rest. The weight on your shoulders is welcomed.

“It’s nothing like that trust me,” Jongdae says with raised hands. He focuses his attention back to you. “Junmyeon trusts you all, so I do too. It’s nothing quite as final as Junmyeon’s, but it’s still quite a feat to complete on my own.”

“Did you run away too?” You ask in worry.

“No, no! I was given permission. This has to do with my destiny so it’s completely fine. Besides, Junmyeon’s able to help guide me home if I need to go back.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You ask incredulously.

He blinks innocently. “Junmyeon can help me find my way home when I’m ready. Whenever I talk to him he seems pretty sure that he can.”

“You still talk to him!?”

“Duh, he’s a part of the ocean now. He’s not gone. I’m sure even you guys could get some kind of response from him if you tried to talk to him. It might not be words, but he’s pretty good at communicating.” He waves away his words as if it was a passing thought. “He told me to come to you guys for help, and said I might be able to help in return. If you all help me destroy the monsters that inhabit the more dangerous parts of the ocean, then I can offer my knowledge in exchange.”

Baekhyun is able to jump back into the conversation first. You’re still stupefied at the idea that you could have talked to Junmyeon all this time. That he isn’t fucking dead, just…part of the ocean now?

Whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean.

“So…you want us to help you fight sea monsters? Like sirens and krakens and shit?”

Jongdae gives an eager nod.

Baekhyun looks at you and raises an eyebrow. Do you really want to take this on? You purse your lips and turn back to Jongdae. You’ve spent over 3 months not taking on any missions. Your crew is as rusty as they can get. Fresh out of mourning and getting back on their feet. You have enough gold and jewels to never have to work again.

Even if you declined, you doubt Jongdae would take the treasures back. This was your payment for Junmyeon’s return. Nothing more than that. If anything, this would be a favor to the other prince.

But, Junmyeon thinks you’d be of help to each other. Besides, you don’t know what you would do with your time if you stopped sailing as a pirate. You belong on the sea. You’ve know that for nearly all your life. You want to live adventurously. The Storm Chaser can’t be reduced to some shitty cargo ship. Your men came to you to escape their lives on land. They wouldn’t want to return even if they had the money to live happily. You can tell by how eager everyone is today just coming back aboard the ship.

You jut your hand out. Your decision is made; although, it might have been made up from the moment he even asked. “You’ve got a deal.” Jongdae beams and reaches out to grab your hand, but you suddenly pull back. “Ah…well as long as my first mate agrees?”

You catch Baekhyun’s eyes again and he smiles. “If you want to do this, I’m behind you 100% Captain.” The eye patch he was using to keep his bangs out of his face is slid back over his eye.

“Let’s go kill some fucking sea monsters.”

~~~

20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean.

The heart of the ocean.

These days, her heart is at ease. These days, the ocean is calm.

The tale of the lost child of Atlantis have become nothing but an old wives tale. A thrilling bedtime story told to children to amaze them with the wonders of the sea.

A story of family, of fear, and of loss.

A story about mermaids, and storms –of ships that nearly faced destruction in attempt to return that lost child.

To return that lost man. A prince.

A tale that dazzles with promises of riches, and happiness. Of adventure and hate. A tale of love.

There’s no way to determine the truth of the story, for no written record of Atlantis exists. Only the oral retellings by those who claim to have seen it.

Many secrets lie beneath the ocean’s surface –wonders and horrors alike. The tale of finding Atlantis will stay as secret as the ocean herself.

Thus, her story continues on.

Calm. At peace.

-Anonymous

Exo Recs

A- Angst, S-Smut F-Fluff

Kim Junmyeon

Kim Minseok

Zhang Yixing

Byun Baekhyun

Finding Atlantis by Guardianofjunmyeon AS

Kim Jongdae

Park Chanyeol

Do Kyungsoo

Kim Jongin

Oh Sehun

---

The Cowboy - Part 15 (Final)

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol) 

Word count: 2160

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Life in Blayne was ever-changing, and yet there were some constants that remained. You still woke up to the owl in the middle of the night at least once a week, and whenever it rained, you seemed to find yourself under the sheets moaning out Jaehyun’s name.

May was always the first person you turned for any news about anything regarding the people in Blayne and equally the one person you avoided the longest when you wanted to keep something to yourself.

Because Jaehyun wasn’t back yet from his second rodeo circuit, and you didn’t want anyone to know the news you had to share before telling him in person.

Keep reading

---

summer of love (ljn)

original gif

↳ pairing: lee jeno x reader

↳ word count: 15.2k

↳ genre: ‘90’s!au, brother’s best friend!au, summer!au, neighbor!au, slice of life(ish)!au, fluff, slowburn

↳ summary: The summer of 1997 was a weird time. As a person living in the modern era, you’d completely forgotten what it was like to live in the ‘90’s. In May 1997, you listened to the Backstreet Boys, flipped through TV Guide, and had an answering machine which seems so archaic now. But that isn’t the only reason why the summer of 1997 was weird. That summer was the time you fell for your brother’s best friend.

↳ warnings: minor cursing, making out

SUMMER 1997

Your second year of college is over. You’ve taken your last exam, and it’s finally time to ditch your dorm and lousy roommate to go back to your childhood home for the summer. It’s a three-hour drive with no rest stops from college to your home, but it took longer due to the gas station stops to get junky, sugary snacks and coffee. But eventually, you made it back home in one piece. 

Your childhood home looks almost exactly the same as you left it: The old, green, flowery wallpaper that your parents keep forgetting the change still hangs in the kitchen, the brown carpet in the entry hallway with the weird stain is still there, and the pantry still has an endless supply of potato chips. The only thing missing are your parents. 

“Y/N!” Renjun exclaims, coming to hug you. As your older brother's arms lock around you, you notice how different he feels despite last seeing him only two months ago; prickly stubble pokes at your skin, and he definitely has been working out.

He parts from you, moving to the answering machine sitting on the kitchen counter. “Where are mom and dad?” You ask. 

“Out,” he says abruptly, playing the messages in the machine before clearing them out. “They’re shopping to make dinner. They thought you would come back later. And by the way,” he continues, “Jeno’s coming over.” 

“Okay,” you respond back simply. At this point, you’re used to Lee Jeno; he’s practically your family, in that the Lees live only a few houses from yours. It is honestly a wonder how Renjun and Jeno have remained friends since they were five-year-olds running around the neighborhood grafitti-ing the sidewalks with colorful chalk designs without growing apart or finding people more apt to suit their developing selves as time passes. It seems that instead of growing apart because of the new scenes and sounds in their adult lives, they were growing together like two parallel vines despite the distance they had to combat in college. When you hear the doorbell a few moments later, you know it’s Lee Jeno. 

He certainly looks different than what you remember with dark hair this time and a slight tan. You haven’t seen Lee Jeno since winter break when he was staying with his parents across the street. Just like you and Renjun, he’s back home from college after the school year, and you’ve seen him around a couple of times a year with all the school breaks. 

“Y/N!” Jeno smiles in that very Jeno way that makes everyone’s heart melt. He leans down a bit to meet your eyes, taking his thumb and forefinger of his hand and squishing your cheek. You playfully bat his hand away. 

“Quit doing that!” You giggle with a pout on your face. “I’m not a baby anymore! I go to college!” You say incredulously, a little bit of a whine in your tone. 

“You’re always a baby to me,” he teases. You roll your eyes at this, moving over to let him in. 

“Jeno!” Renjun yells, ditching the answering machine. He rushes over to hug the other boy. “It’s good to see you.” 

“You too Jun,” Jeno replies. You smile at the sight.

“Let’s play pool,” Renjun says. Jeno agrees, nodding. Both boys go to the basement where your family’s famous pool table resides (your father having gotten it for free from some bar closing in the ‘70’s), and Jeno shuts the door loudly on his way out. You’re about to rain on Renjun’s parade and tell him to come back and clear the answering machine he left behind, but you think against it. You didn’t feel like interrupting a friendship that is so beautiful. So you sit on the chair that Renjun recently left, pressing the ‘listen’ button on the answering machine.

As you listen to the promotional spam calls from companies trying to sell you things that you didn’t need or couldn’t afford, you purse your lips. Seeing Renjun and Jeno together almost made you jealous; none of your high school friends were back from college, and through the few calls you all would have during the school year, they’re off doing bigger and better things than this sleepy town that you call home. 

That night you were going to sleep in your bedroom filled with cassette tapes, posters and pink and yellow wallpaper that you picked out when you were seven. After satisfactorily wrapping yourself in your comfortable blankets that smelled of lavender detergent (your favorite scent), you stare at the ceiling. You couldn’t imagine not visiting this place. 

-

So you have a secret. No, not of the deep dark kind, but something that would definitely earn you a lot of teasing if your friends and family found out about it. One of your biggest guilty pleasures is the movie series The Zygon Kingdom, a science fiction franchise about alien invasions. Stereotypically, people think this series is for losers, gamers, and nerds who live in their mom’s basement. When you’re in public, you try your best to refrain from comment or make fun of the series alongside others, but in private, you secretly anticipate the new movies, going to see it immediately when it comes to theaters.

And that’s what you’re planning on doing today. Today is the release of the fifth movie of the franchise, The Zygon Kingdom: A New World. Finally, you actually had plans; you were starting to look pathetic with how much TV you were watching; your parents were even joking that the most recent book that you’ve read is the TV Guide that was mailed a few days ago. On top of not having friends to hang out with this summer, Renjun, a fresh graduate from a pre-law program, has been running around town trying to find positions to start paying off his degree debts and to gain experience while also trying to study for the LEET exam to qualify for law school. All your friends and family being busy would be depressing to you on any normal day, this comes to your advantage today, for you don’t want to be seen. 

“I’m going to see a friend. Love you.” You say quickly to your parents. With how immersed they are in Full House, their marked TV Guide beside them, you could have said that you wanted to get a tattoo, and your parents would probably not bat an eye.  

“Okay, be safe honey,” your mother says dismissively.

Leaving through the basement, you go to your car outside, unlocking the door. Obviously, you’re carrying your big tote bag so you could sneak in snacks; you even went shopping at the convenience store to prepare. Once you’re finished with the ten minute drive from your home to the movie theater, you look in both directions before entering the line in the lobby of the theater to get a ticket. You’re going to pay in cash, not credit to make sure that this can’t be traced back to you, and you pull out a large flopping hat that you have saved in your car, placing it on your head the second you step out of the car. Yes, you were being completely paranoid, but the last thing you want is someone recognizing you as you go into the movie theater or your parents looking at your credit card statement to see that you went to the movie theaters to view The Zygon Kingdom. 

The time you spent waiting in line is filled with you looking around in all directions, making sure to avoid gazes of anyone that went to high school with or parents whose kids you babysat. Gossip travels fast, and you didn’t feel like finding out how fast. This is a whole covert operation – you get in and you get out, hopefully with your reputation still intact. 

“One ticket to the new Zygon movie,” you say quietly. The woman sitting at the counter almost doesn’t hear you because of how quiet you are or how loud the chatters are of high schoolers and adults coming to the movie theaters after a long week, but either way, she gives you your ticket. 

“It’s in room B,” You’ve gone to this movie theater enough to know where everything is without needing a map or extra time to find your way around. Since you took into account Friday night traffic and the length of the line, you have about five minutes before the movie starts. 

“Thank you,” you say, smiling quickly. Keeping your head low, you move your neck around as if your head is a moving surveillance camera, still trying to make sure that no one you know is seeing you walk into room B, which has a huge blue and yellow poster of The Zygon Kingdom: A New World right next to the door. Once the coast is clear, you head into the dark movie room, finding row sixteen, in the middle.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” you whisper to people who you had to cross to get to your seat. The room is at half capacity; a few advertisements are playing on the screen, for now you have three minutes before the movie starts (but it will probably be longer since ads play for at least ten minutes after the movie is supposed to start to give people extra time). You find a spot in the middle row, which is where the majority of those few people are because you can get a good view of the screen and the audio would be loud but not too loud. 

Pushing down the foldable seat, you sit down. Bringing your purse to your lap, you pull out a bag of chips from your bag, opening it before the movie so that no one gets annoyed at you for opening it so loud. You adjust your sitting position, letting your left leg cross over your right one, and in the dark room, you accidentally kick the seat in front of you. It’s a loud sound, and you slightly grimace at the pain in your foot now. The person in front of you turns around, and you feel like you lost the air in your lungs. 

“Jeno?” 

“Y/N?” 

-

After the movie incident, you and Jeno realize that you actually have more in common than you thought. Apparently, Jeno is in the same position as you when it comes to high school or local friends. Just graduated from college, his friends have found well-paying starting positions and internships, and except for a few people, he’s also been bored at home. Instead of finding a job immediately or stretching himself thin like Renjun, Jeno decided that it was best for him to take a break mentally after college, and then he would be on the job hunt. So now you two have been much more inclined to meet up. 

This would have never happened a year ago. Sure, you would hang out with Jeno when Renjun invited you to hang out with them, and you would even have a good time, but by yourselves, you were a bit more than strangers. Now that doesn’t seem so. 

“I still can’t believe that you like the Zygon Kingdom. Liking the Zygon Kingdom is so not you.” You say, grinning at Jeno. “I would never have pegged you as a fan,” You and Jeno are at an ice cream parlor, enjoying the shelter of this building better than the merciless afternoon sun outside. Lee Jeno, a college soccer star who gets all the girls liking a cheesy science fiction movie? That’s not something you learn every day. Picking at his chocolate ice cream, Jeno smiles at you too. 

“I could say the same for you.” Taking a bite of your ice cream, you cross your legs under the table, a slightly pensive look on your face. Leaning forward, you put your elbows on the white table. “So what else do I not know about you?” You ask. 

“Well,” Jeno tilts his head. “I like to dip my pizza in honey.” 

“I know that,” you say. “Back when you and Renjun used to order pizza at the house, you would always ask me where the honey is.” 

“You remember that?” Jeno asks, surprised. You shake your head, a disapproving frown on your face. “I only remember because you’re the only person in the history of humankind to dip your pizza in honey. Honestly, how do you even stomach that?” 

“The same way you can eat that mint chocolate chip ice cream you have here,” he says, pointing to your cup. You gasp in mock offense, and he only continues. “That stuff tastes like toothpaste.” 

“To make up for what you just said, you have to tell me something that I actually don’t know about you.” Jeno grunts and this, and you wait, tapping your foot against the tiles annoyingly. 

“When I was a sophomore in high school, I went to one of Ten’s house parties,” he stops for a few seconds, and you look at him, your gaze willing for him to continue. “He brought in eight kegs of beer from God knows where, and I had a few drinks.” 

“Shut up!” You say, pushing Jeno’s shoulder from across the table. You’re absolutely astonished. “You, Lee Jeno, student council representative for your entire high school career, got drunk while going to Ten’s parties?” You only know Ten through his reputation, specifically his outrageous house parties that he throws whenever his parents are out of town that almost always end with the cops coming to shut it down. They’re always the highlight of your high school class’s weekend in your sleepy little town, where the mall or the park are the most interesting places to go. You’ve never been to one of Ten’s parties yourself since in high school, you were never much of a partier (and you didn’t have the ‘contacts’ to get invited anyway), but you’ve heard that he’s the definition of a privileged rich kid with money to burn. 

“Yes, that was me.” he laughs. “And, it gets better.” You lean farther forward, your cheek propped up by your fist. “I was so drunk that I couldn’t drive home, so I called Renjun at like midnight to pick me up. When I came into his car, it smelled like perfume, and he had lipstick all over his face. Yeri Kim was in the back of his car.” 

Your eyes widened. “No way! Renjun told me he was studying for a history test!” You remember this day in-depth because it was the night of the freshman dance that you went to with your friends. 

Jeno smiles at your astonished look before clearing his throat. “I told you something you didn’t know about me and something you didn’t know about Renjun, so you better tell me something good that I didn’t know about you.” 

You sigh, tilting your head upwards. Pushing your tongue against your cheek, you’re deep in thought before you spring up in your chair again.

“Remember when you, me, and Mark would all volunteer at Taeyong’s animal shelter?” You ask. During your high school years, you were in desperate need of Honors Society hours to make you look better on your college applications, so you ended up signing up to take care of unadopted pets, either rescue or lost. Jeno, Renjun, and a few of his other friends had the same idea since it would be easy to carpool. 

“Yeah?” Jeno responds. Bringing your palm against your mouth, you shelter some giggles before Jeno has a curious look on his face. 

“Y/N? What is it?” You lick your lips before inhaling sharply.

“While getting in the parking lot with Renjun to get something from your car, do you remember getting hit by a bunch of water balloons?” Jeno squints for a few seconds as if trying to connect some invisible dots, and after a few moments, his eyes widen, his mouth in an “o” shape. 

“That was you?” He says, astonished. “I blamed Chenle for that for an entire year!” 

“Yup, it was me,” you say, giggling in between words.

“Why did you do it?” He asks. 

“It was supposed to be for Renjun, but then you got in the way, and by that time, I already dropped the water balloons.” Jeno purses his lips, as if trying to picture you in the situation you described. This only leads you into another laughing fit. 

“You should have seen your face, I will never forget how hilarious you looked and how you were like ‘Chenle if you’re working the dog walking on the ceiling, then I’m gonna kill you!’” You snicker, imitating Jeno’s voice by making it abnormally deep. 

“I do not sound like that.” 

“I do not sound like that,” you imitate again. Jeno crosses his arms, a brow quirked. 

“Okay, I’ll actually stop this time,” you say, giggling. 

After a few moments, Jeno laughs with you. The prospect of no friends in town seemed unfounded today, for there is a friend for you that has been sitting under your nose this whole time. 

-

You’re sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor as you organize your colorful array of CDs, different albums you’ve collected through various birthday monies and Christmas gifts. Not only are there CDs, but your shelf is loaded with cassettes. By this point, no one used cassettes anymore, but it was the easiest way to record songs from the tape radio and have to listen. You would simply put the cassette in your tape radio and press the ‘record’ button when radio stations would have their two hours ad free music. A mini cassette of free music was perfect to put in Renjun’s old walkman as you took a jog around the neighborhood. You learned this method two years ago from your father, who used this way to get free music in the ‘80’s, but now, you have a huge collection of songs that have become a pain to oragnize. You’re not exactly good at putting things back in their place, tending to grab your CDs and cassettes, use them, and then discard them on top of the little shelf you have. 

Point is, this is an arduous task. This is why when you hear the phone ring in the living room, you run out to get it. Plus, if you didn’t answer it now, it would be your task to clear out the answering machine at the end of the day. So, now you had one less message to listen and clear out.

When you hold the house phone to your ear, you only hear a monotonous dial tone, signalling that the person hung up. You feel a little suspicious, but think nothing of it; sometimes, neighborhood kids find it funny to dial random numbers and not answering when the person picks up – like virtual ding-dong-ditching. 

But your suspicion proves right when you feel wetness on your head. On the floor of your living room is a deflated balloon, and in your hair, you’re pretty sure it’s water. There’s only one person you think could be behind this, and he slowly comes out from the space he’s hiding in your kitchen. He smirks as he shows you a small corded phone connected to the wall, shaped like a lip (probably Jeno’s sister’s that he stole from her room). Before you can grab him in your kitchen, Jeno is running out onto the street.

“Lee Jeno what the hell?” You screech to the boy running down the street. You don’t bother to take your shoes, only closing the front door to prevent any animals coming into your house to take shelter from this hot weather. The heated pavement sings the soles of your feet as you run, but the feeling doesn’t bother you: you’re on a hot (literally hot) pursuit of Lee Jeno, and in the distance, you can see him. 

“Damn these short legs,” you mutter. You run and you run through the neighborhood. Lee Jeno has you taking sudden turns, trying to get you to break your tail on him, but it’s unsuccessful. Finally when you’re close enough, you spring forward onto Jeno’s back. He sways at the sudden weight, falling to the ground. Thankfully, you’re on grass, which is cooler to the pads of your feet and breaks Jeno’s fall. 

“What was the meaning of this?” You ask, pointing to your dripping head.

“It’s a little something called payback.” He smirks. 

“Hey, there’s a difference,” you start off, “Mine was on accident. It was supposed to hit Renjun. Your’s was on purpose.” You cross your arms, pouting. 

“Well, then this was supposed to teach you not to be mean to your brother.” 

“Siblings in the same age group act like this all the time,” you say. You then put your index to your chin. “At least if you’re like me and Renjun.” If Jeno pulled something like this on his older sister Jihyeon, who is six years older than him, he wouldn’t survive to tell the tale. 

The boy in front of you sucks in a big breath. “Let’s settle this once and for all then,” Jeno says. He comes closer, his body only a few inches from yours. “A game.” He smiles. “I have some water balloons at home. If you win–” 

“You have to give me 20,000 won.” You finish. Jeno raises his eyebrow. “There’s a new Backstreet Boys album I want,” you say. 

“Alright, fine,” Jeno says. “But if you lose,” Jeno stops midway, trying to bite his lower lip in a way to shelter the huge smirk on his face. “You have to clean my car.” 

“Too easy, all I’ll need is a hose,” you wave your hand. 

“Not the outside.” Your eyes widen at this new development. 

“You mean…” 

“Yup. The inside.” You’ve never been in Jeno’s car yourself since mostly when you would hang out with Jeno, it would be with Renjun, which means that you’re using Renjun’s car. But Renjun has told you, pretty infamously, that his car is messy and smells like a giant foot.

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment!” You say. Let’s just say if Renjun thinks it’s smelly, it’s probably smelly. Renjun has been a teenage boy before, and many teenage boys are a species that usually cannot detect the lack of hygiene.  

“Those are the parameters of the game,” Jeno says. “If you resign now, that’s considered a loss, which means you have to clean my car anyway.” 

You flatten your lips. Damn, you’re in a deadlock now. 

“Fine. Game on.” 

-

Lee Jeno destroyed you. But honestly, what else did you expect? Lee Jeno, who has played soccer his whole life and has had plenty of experience with strategy and planning, completely and utterly destroyed you. It wasn’t the smartest idea to go guns-blazing with water balloons at Jeno, but you didn’t have many other choices. Your long-distance aim and contact skills weren’t that good, for you never played “sports,” sports as in competitive sports since you only danced for a couple of years. You did use your surroundings well, hiding behind trees and bushes so you can stalk your way to Jeno, but that only did so much.

So now you are wearing an old T-Shirt and some jeans shorts, opening the front door and performing the ‘walk of shame’ as you walk to Jeno’s house, where boxes of unopened trash bags, air freshener, sponges, and soapy water sit. 

Jeno is only a few feet away from the cleaning materials he left out, sitting on a beach chair.

“Y/N,” Jeno says, waving to you in a friendly way. “Thank God you’re here. I was worried you might happen to forget about the deal. I really need you right now,” Jeno chuckles, “because my mom wanted me to clean my car last week. She said that if I don’t clean my car by tonight, then she’s really gonna give it to me.” 

“Good,” you say, laughing a bit to yourself. “Somebody’s gotta tell you. Back in high school, I was afraid to get in this car, or else I would never be the same again.” 

Scrunching your nose, you peek your head inside Jeno’s car. It’s an old 1984 Nissan 300zx, most likely used because if his parents are anything like your parents (which not so surprisingly, growing up around each other, they are), they would never give their teenage sons brand new cars. The people in your neighborhood certainly aren’t tearing at the seams with money. 

Gulping harshly, you decide to throw whatever junk you find in the car away. You pulled out wrappers, chip bags, old water bottles, and random coins that you pocketed (Jeno let you since even he knows how bad cleaning his car is – which is why he held off on it for so long). Jeno kept you good company, and you found yourself chitchatting with him as you organized every piece of junk in his car in a trash bag.

“Are you liking college so far?” Jeno asks broadly when chatter between you both slowly dies. No response.

“What’s wrong?” Jeno asks. He knows he’s right to think that when it takes you a few minutes to respond, a few moments for your gaze to focus on him.

“College hasn’t been that fun,” you confess to Jeno, the words falling out of your mouth faster than it should. “I haven’t made a lot of friends despite finishing my sophomore year, and my roommate is a pain. Her entire side of the room is so messy and acts like I’m unreasonable. It’s a small space anyway, she should keep it clean!” You huff, scrubbing the cloth seats in Jeno’s car harder. It felt as though a huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

You were surprised that you confessed this to Jeno of all people. When you told Renjun this freshman year, he advised that it would get better after the first semester, and your parents said the same thing, but nothing really changed. You’re going to university on a significant scholarship, and you didn’t want to give that up if you decided to transfer somewhere closer to home, closer to your support network of familiar places and people. Ever since then, you didn’t tell anyone how miserable you were in college.

“Can I make a confession?” Jeno asks suddenly. You were worried that you were being way too personal after Jeno didn’t say anything for a while; after all, Jeno is your brother’s friend and not yours.  

“Shoot,” you say. 

“I didn’t have many friends in college either. Why do you think I always hang out with Renjun every summer?” You’re piling all the trashbags together near the edge of the Lee property for the trash truck to come later today, but hearing this is enough for you to turn around and look at the raven-haired boy quizically. 

“I don’t believe that,” you scoff. “You have teammates and a hundred girls who would tattoo your name on their chests immediately.” 

“They’re just teammates and girls. I got along with my teammates, but I don’t talk to them on a regular basis after graduating college.” Jeno sighs. “And the girls who liked me in college liked me because I was ripped. None of them really wanted to know me personally.”

The silence between you both is deafening. You purse your lips, sympathy in your voice. “I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t,” Jeno says. “I try not to tell everyone this,” he says, a slight humorous lilt in his voice. 

“Those girls missed out,” you say, a soft smile on your face. “You’re hilarious and great to be around.” 

“It seems like I have that effect on the members of the Huang family,” Jeno smiles, any sign of melancholy gone from his face. 

“Say,” you start off, bending down to reach the mat on the car floor. “if I find something I think is of value in this car, then can I keep it?” 

Jeno nods. “Sure, I guess. I can’t imagine what could be of value.” 

“Now I’m 20,000 won richer,” 

Jeno’s back instantly becomes more rigid as he sees you wave a few crumpled bills in the air, almost unrecognizable due to the amount of dust and grime accumulated on it. A couple of coins here and there were tolerable for him to let you keep, but 20,000 won is a lot for loose change in the car. “I tend to find 20,000 won very valuable,” you smile. 

Jeno curses under his breath.  “Touche.” 

“I guess we both won.” You shrug your shoulders, “You’re gonna have a clean car for your mom, and I have enough money to buy that Backstreet Boys album.” 

-

Just the other day, you ran into Taeyong, the owner of the pet shelter you used to volunteer at. You were at the supermarket, picking up some groceries for your parents when you saw the man carefully weighing a bag of Roma tomatoes. Although he is almost five years older than you, it certainly doesn’t seem that way with how youthful his face looked, and when he noticed you putting bananas in your shopping cart, he was glad to see you. You both engaged in pleasant conversation about your lives since you volunteered at his pet shelter, and he mentioned to you that he was short of hands. Recently, a full-time employee quit, and he needed people more than ever. He offered you a job on the spot, and you gladly took it – you needed something to do this summer anyway, and your parents were starting to get a little restless with how much you were at home, revolving your life around TV Guide. 

You had been working for a few days at the store and got to know the two other employees, one of which is Doyoung, who you already knew from your time volunteering at this shelter, and Sungchan, a boy around Jeno’s age who had been working for a year. Compared to the last time you saw this shelter as a senior in high school, not much has changed. The only thing that was different was that the walls were recently wallpapered. 

Taeyong greeted you when you walked in, and you already started following a routine you set up for yourself; the good thing about hiring you was that he didn’t have to teach you much since as a volunteer, you would feed and wash animals a couple of hours a week, which as an employee, that was the same thing on a fuller time basis. In the mornings, you liked to start off walking dogs in the dog walking area on the roof before the sun would shine mercilessly in the afternoon. Carrying a light brown golden retriever puppy named Dasom, you head down the roof stairs back to the lobby, where Jeno is sitting on a hard, metal chair. 

“Jeno?” You ask. “What are you doing here?” You don’t ever remember telling him that you would be here. 

Jeno smiles at you. “Your mom told me I could find you here. And some other guy said you were walking a dog, so he told me to wait here.”

You nod. He must not have meant Doyoung since he would already know him from his time at the pet shelter in high school. “So you must have met Sungchan.”

Jeno shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess. He said he was going to wash some of the new arrivals.” While speaking, Jeno’s lips curled into a small smile. “Remember when we used to do that?”

“God,” you say, shaking your head. “That was one of the worst jobs.” You said. If there was anything that dogs and cats hated was being in water. New arrivals, especially strays, haven’t been introduced to clean water in a long time and can get especially rowdy since they are also untrained. 

“There was one dog that me, Renjun, and Chenle had to wash, and let’s just say that it looked like we took a bath too!” At this, you both laugh.

You lick your lips, looking at Jeno, good humor in your eyes. “I almost feel bad leaving Sungchan all by himself.” Crossing your arms and leaning your back against the wall, you look at Jeno, your head cocked.

“So what are you really doing here?” 

Jeno looks fondly in the distance. “I think Bongshik needs a new playmate,” you smile at Jeno. For as long as you can remember, Jeno has always been a cat person, and after much convincing, his parents agreed to get him a cat seven years ago. They initially were only getting Jeno the cat to help teach him responsibility, because as a teenage boy, he had none, but slowly, Bongshik grew on them too. Ever since, the Lee family’s soft spot has been Bongshik.

“Do your parents know?” You ask. 

Jeno smiles. “They were the ones who suggested the idea.” As Bongshik grew older, his energy hasn’t quelled, and for the lack of neighborhood cats, he follows the Lee family around everywhere in the house. 

“What breed?” you ask. 

“Maybe a Bengal. I’ve heard that they are energetic.” 

“I think there are some Bengals. Let’s check the back.” You both go into the room adjoining the lobby, where the rescue and stray animals were stored. After a long night with Doyoung yesterday, the cages were cleaned, and all the animals looked happy that it was clean. You both are greeted with excited barks from the dog section of the room, and finally, you approach the cats in another room. Cats of various breeds occupied the segregated space, from Shorthairs to Bobtailed cats. Black, white, gray, and tabbies are all present, and they look at you and Jeno quizically. 

Jeno also observes the felines intently. “Actually, Bongshik is full of energy, so maybe a bit of a quieter playmate to contrast,” Jeno taps his chin, thinking to himself. Some cats wave their tails at Jeno as if wanting his attention while some other cat mothers wrap their tails around their young, protecting them. There are two cats that seem to take his attention, two cats that are sitting together. They don’t appear to have any sort of genetic or familial relationship, for one cat is white with a few specks of black around the ears while the other is a gray tabby with a white chest; they both appear to be Shorthair crossbreeds, though. 

“Can I hold that one?” Jeno says, pointing to the white one with the few black specks. You open the cage with the master key that you have in your pocket, and carefully, you take the cat out of the cage. Jeno has his arms open, so when you place the cat in his arms, he cradles the animal, the most adoring look on his face. The other cat seems to be annoyed and meows a lot, its gaze on the white cat, and the white cat starts meowing back. 

You and Jeno both melt on sight. 

“So cute,” Jeno murmurs, putting the tip of his nose on the crown of the white cat’s head. This cat does not seem to be bothered that it’s being held by Jeno (when most cats take some time getting used to a new human). It is as if they were both destined to meet. This cat does turn to face his companion still in the cage once in a while, still meowing.

“I think this one’s more concerned that its friend is not being held,” you jest. You stand on your tiptoes to grab the other, carefully cradling the tabby in your arms. It starts meowing for its companion, and you face Jeno. 

“This one’s also so cute,” Jeno says longingly. He comes closer to you, bending a little, his face close to the tabby that you’re holding. His smile is wide, his eyes shaped like crescents. Carefully, he holds the white cat with one cradled arm, and with the other, he uses his index and middle finger to pet the other cat. The tabby meows happily. 

As Jeno tries to stand upright again, his head almost bumps your face, but he stops before that, carefully meeting your gaze. For what feels like an eternity, you both stare. Jeno’s eyes are like brown pools, and you notice every detail on his face; how dark and pronounced his eyebrows are compared to his suntanned skin, how pretty his nose looks against his face, the fringe on his forehead that is so close to giving a lovetap to his eyes, how shapely his chin is, a small, stray mustache hair kissing his upper lip… 

His lips. Pursed slightly as he drinks in the sight of the little details of your face as well. They look a little chapped – 

“There you are Y/N! Is that you Jeno?” A familiar voice rings across the large room, and you notice it to be Doyoung. His gaze is focused on you both. You and Jeno immediately stop gazing at each other, as if Doyoung flipped a switch, and you both focus your attention on the raven-haired employee, his hair wet from a fresh shower. He usually comes to work at eleven or noon since he is not a morning person. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Jeno says, waving before repositioning his other hand to hold the white cat in his arms.

“Long time no see,” Doyoung remarks. “How’s college?” He asks. 

“Graduated in the spring,” Jeno says. “I’m back with my parents now.” He says.

“Oh,” Doyoung says, nodding awkwardly. “Well, if you want a job, the door is always open here. Trust me, we need the help,” Doyoung says. 

“Thanks,” Jeno says, smiling courteously at Doyoung. “I’m actually here to look for another cat. Maybe two,” Jeno looks at you, an eyebrow raised in anticipation. Suddenly, he sneezes. 

“Jeno,” you chastise. “What about your cat allergy?” You suddenly remember. Jeno learned affirmatively after adopting Bongshik that he had a cat allergy, and his sister and parents tried to convince him to give Bongshik back to the shelter, but Jeno vehemently refused. After almost a month of bonding with the feline, he didn’t have the heart to give Bongshik back. Instead, he went to the drug store and got some anti-histamines to suppress his allergies and eventually got more personalized medicine from his doctor. At first, his doctor said the best (and cheapest) course of action would be to return Bongshik, but Jeno just took the prescription and has since then been refilling his prescription on a regular basis. 

“What cat allergy?” Jeno asks, but he sneezes a few times. Cocking your head at the raven-haired boy, you snort.

“That cat allergy?” You say, leaning all your weight on one leg.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says dismissively. “I’ll ask my doctor. I’ll probably just have to up my dose.”

It was Doyoung’s turn to snort. “Can you really be around three cats every day?” He asks. “The only reason your allergy didn’t get out of control while you were volunteering here was because I kept you with the reptiles.” You nod in agreement. The reptiles were kept in another room on the far side of this shelter, far away from all the cat hair floating around in this room. Jeno, though, still used to sneak a few minutes with the cats. 

“I can be around three cats!” Jeno says defensively. By this time, the white cat is rubbing itself against Jeno’s T-shirt. 

Feeling this, Jeno’s gaze softens, and he smiles at the kitten, whose brown eyes Jeno looks in to. “I am going to name you Seoli,” Jeno says in a soft tone and gazes at the cat in your arms. “And I’m going to name you Nali.”  

“Did your parents agree to two new cats?”

“Well,” Jeno trails off, shrugging his shoulders.

“Lee Jeno!” You say. 

“My parents grew to like Bongshik. They’ll grow to like Seoli and Nali.” Jeno reasons. 

You roll your eyes. Lee Jeno is the only person in the whole world you know who has a cat allergy and still wants three cats. “Lee Jeno, you’re crazy, you know that?” 

-

Seoli and Nali instantly got along with Bongshik. The three of them would sleep together, eat together, and roam the house together, only being apart momentarily. Like Jeno predicted, his parents grew to like the addition of Seoli and Nali to the family. 

Hearing about the new cats from you, Renjun would visit Jeno, and you would come along with them and play with all three cats. Renjun started joking that you two started being best friends without him and that you were leaving him in the dust. 

Renjun started a new job as a paralegal and became busier than ever; he was working to save enough money to live in an apartment closer to the law firm he worked at, which is forty-five minutes away from your house. The commute itself was tiring and he was working extra hard to get along with his coworkers, going to events, and establishing contacts.

Like many weekends, this weekend Renjun was hanging out with a few coworkers at a party at one of their houses, and normally, you didn’t mind this, only joking to him that he only came home to eat and sleep. 

In mid-July, without fail, you and Renjun would always go to the beach, ever since he was old enough to drive; it was valuable “sibling time” that your parents supported and even suggested; as teenagers, you didn’t always get along, and your parents wanted you both to establish a close relationship because sibling relationships were the only life-long relationships.

This weekend, Renjun was busy, and for the next few weekends, he would be catching up with old friends and would even go on a few dates, for his dating life was pretty sparse with how busy college was. You were hoping that Renjun could blow someone off and come with you and not break the tradition, but your hopes did nothing to change reality after Renjun told you about his plans and apologized that he wouldn’t be able to come to the beach with you.

So you decided, if you can’t bring your brother to the beach, bring your brother’s best friend. 

At 7 AM on a Saturday, you knock on Jeno’s door, a few doors from your house, dressed in a casual T-Shirt and jeans shorts. You’re ready to go, without a doubt in your mind that Jeno won’t come. 

Jeno answers the door, rubbing his eyes. From the looks of the dark house, Jeno’s parents aren’t awake. As a means to hold himself up, Jeno leans against the door. He’s dressed in long pajama bottoms and a black T-shirt (that is littered with Seoli’s white cat hair). The white, spotted cat follows Jeno to the door, sitting a few feet away from the living room couch. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asks, his voice heavy with drowsiness. 

“We’re going to the beach, obviously,” you say matter-of-fact, in a voice that Jeno didn’t look like he wanted to argue with. He knew that you were hurting because Renjun couldn’t come with you to the beach any time soon, so he was ready to be called to go to the beach. 

“Right now?” 

“Yes right now. Don’t you remember that Renjun and I would leave early in the morning to get a head start to the beach?” The closest beach to your house is two hours away, and being landlocked during the college semester makes you restless for the yearly summer beach trip as well. 

“Yeah I know but–” 

“No ‘buts,’” you interrupt. “If we leave now, then we get the whole day at the beach. Be ready in thirty minutes.” 

Jeno acknowledges with a sleepy grunt before closing the door, and you head back to your house to eat breakfast. If you left hungry, then you would be tempted to stop along the way for snacks, making the drive longer. So you ate a hearty bowl of oatmeal, a banana, and drank a glass of water before seeing Jeno standing at your door twenty-five minutes later with one of his sister’s peach-colored tote bags hanging on his shoulder, in casual shorts and a T-shirt, and a navy colored cap covering his black hair. You already had your things ready in a bag next to the dining room table, and you carry your bag and exit out the front door, saying a quick goodbye to your parents. 

Out on the porch, you jog across the driveway to Jeno, and your parents wave to him. “Have fun guys,” they chorus, smiling. You roll your eyes. 

“It’s like they’re leaving us on a playdate,” you say, and Jeno smiles, the tiredness in his eyes long gone. 

“Want to ride in my car? After all, it’s clean now,” Jeno says. You sigh, but it’s not exasperated or tired. 

“I should know,” you say. 

Jeno’s Nissan sits in its usual place on the driveway, and Jeno takes his keys from his pocket, unlocking the car. As you both load your bags onto the back seat, you breathe in the air. “Minty fresh,” you smile, looking at the tree-shaped car freshener hanging on the rearview mirror. “You better keep this car clean because I am not cleaning it again,” you threaten, pointing your finger accusingly. 

“I pinky promise,” Jeno says, he extends his hand, his pinky out, and you grasp it with your pinky, pinkies locking as well as your gazes.  

Jeno’s hands are way softer than you expected.

The pinky promise lasts way longer than you expected, with you quickly pulling away and getting into the front passenger seat of the car. Jeno hops in the driver’s seat, and the car starts. 

Jeno’s driving is smooth, and through the window, you admire the scenery. You pull out of your neighborhood, driving on local roads for a good few minutes, and you admire the beautiful scenery of houses, shrubs, and picket fences before getting on the highway. Now, cars are zooming past you both, of all sorts of shapes and colors, minivans to sport cars, black, white, gray, and silver. 

“Turn on some music,” Jeno prompts. It’s easy to get distracted on the road, not by external forces such as a random bird flying by, but from the lull of the car when driving on the highway – when driving on the highway, the roads look the same, a cause for boredom and tiredness. The steady humming of Jeno’s car is particularly relaxing on this early morning. 

“I thought you would never ask,” you say, in a voice that sounds mischievous. You twist your body to reach the back of the car, and you reach into your bag, fishing for something. When you pull it out, Jeno rolls his eyes. 

“Seriously?” Jeno groans. 

“What? You said you wanted music,” you say defensively. 

“I didn’t mean the Backstreet Boys.”

You don’t listen to him and instead press the ‘CD media’ button on the front dashboard and insert your CD. The music is catchy, and you hum along to the songs that you’ve loved, namely ‘I’ll never break your heart’ and ‘Everybody.’

“I’ll never understand girls. I mean, what’s the appeal of boybands anyway?” Jeno says after some time. 

“It’s the group dynamic, the interactions, the teamwork, and the songs are catchy as –” you stop yourself, cocking your head at Jeno. “Are you nodding along?” 

“N-No,” Jeno stutters, purposely keeping his gaze fixed on the road so he doesn’t have to face you. 

“Admit it,” you say, a smug look on your face. “You like it.” 

“No, I don’t” Jeno argues. 

“Yes, you do,” you argue back. 

“No I don’t,” Jeno repeats. 

You snort at this. “Look at us, we sound like two five-year-olds.” 

“I think,” Jeno says with a joking lilt, “that we sound like an old married couple.” 

“That too.” You look at the boy, an eyebrow arched.

After a few moments of silence, Jeno changes the topic. “I’m hungry,” he says. “Let’s get some instant ramen.” 

“Where’s the microwave, genius?”

Jeno pouts. “Fast food?” 

“We’re gonna be there in like fifteen minutes. I have some snacks in my bag.” Once again, you reach for the back of the car, fishing inside the tote bag for a bag of Cheetos.

“Here,” you say, holding the bag towards him.

“I’m driving, genius,” he says, emphasizing the last part in a mocking tone. You roll your eyes. 

“I guess you’re gonna have to feed me,” Jeno says.

“Seriously?” You groan. 

“Yes. If I could open the bag with my eyes and feed the Cheetos with some mad telekinesis, then I would.” 

“Well, you would have to keep your eyes on the road, so you still couldn’t do that either.” Jeno grunts at your response, and you silently feel a small victory winning this conversation.

You open the bag and take a Cheeto in your left hand. Jeno opens his mouth, and you place the piece in his mouth. He crunches on it, and when you see his Adam’s apple move as he swallows the snack, you reach in and grab another piece. On and on this pattern goes until there are no Cheetos left in the bag, and at the final time you drop a piece of the snack in his mouth, he playfully clamps down on your fingers. 

“Jeno!” You exclaim. 

Jeno has a youthful, playful look on his face. “That’s what you get for forcing me to listen to this crap.” 

“You like it too!” 

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Here we go again.” 

-

The rest of the car ride is filled with laughs, as though you were supposed to bring Jeno along to the beach this year instead of Renjun. The beach is filled with people wanting to soak up some sun, children playing games, and surfers swimming in the water. Luckily, there’s enough beach for everyone; the sands on this beach are well-maintained, and they go on for miles.

Suddenly, you grab the boy’s wrist, and Jeno looks surprised, a cute doe-like expression on his face (Jeno has the most beautiful, expressive eyes). 

“Come on,” you say, a wide smile on your face. “I’ll show you a nice spot.” 

Together, the two of you are lugging your tote bags across the beach, careful not to step on anyone being buried in sand or children playing games or other people sunbathing. It’s like the sand wants to absorb your feet, which is why your steps are labored, along with the load you are carrying.

The spot you take Jeno is more secluded, with sparse surfers coming about here and there. It’s next to a jagged, gray peak, perfect for divers. The small pieces of eroding rocks falling to the water make it less kid-friendly, but it’s still a good spot if you want to relax and get away from the noise. Right here is where you decide to set up, a few yards from the shore where the cold seawater can’t touch you. 

Carefully, you unpack your tote bag, set up your beach towel, and place a book on the sand. The beach was always a way for you and Renjun to relax together, talk about updates in your lives, and strengthen your relationship. But sometimes you both liked to sit in silence, enjoying each other’s company while enjoying the words of an author, the introverts you both are.

Before sitting down, you also take off your T-shirt and shorts, revealing a navy, strappy bikini underneath. Picking up your book, you open it to the first page and sit down. Next to you, Jeno takes off his shirt, revealing toned abs. (What did you expect? He plays soccer). You don’t want to admit that your attention on your book is long gone. 

When Jeno catches you staring, an immediate flare of heat hits your face, and you quickly try to bring your attention back to your book, starting at the first sentence. You’re unable to keep focus anymore, just re-reading the same sentence at least five times because your brain is too distracted to understand the sentence. 

“You don’t have to look away,” Jeno teases. “Every girl wants a look at Jenabs.” 

“That’s what you’re calling it? Jenabs?” 

“Yes. Is there a problem?” Jeno asks. 

“Obviously. It sounds so self-centered,” you huff. 

“You’re just lashing out because I caught you red-handed.” 

“Maybe you’ll get a red hand to your pretty face,” you challenge, a humorous look in your eyes. 

“Ah,” Jeno says thoughtfully. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Another hot flare hits your cheeks, with the heat of a thousand suns. “No,” you say. 

“Yes,” Jeno counters. 

“No,” you repeat, this time more confident. By this time, you both are gazing at each other intently in silence, until suddenly, you start laughing. Jeno does too. It was one of those times when the moment seemed so serious, but the argument was just so silly.

“Just admit that you think I’m attractive,” Jeno says simply. 

“Every girl with a pulse thinks you’re hotter than a sidewalk in August.” You deadpan. 

“I don’t care what they think,” Jeno says suddenly. You quirk an eyebrow at this statement. Quickly, Jeno recovers himself. “I care about what you think.” He smiles. “You’re the only person I’ve known that hasn’t ever brought up my looks.” 

“Why should I?” You shrug your shoulders. “You know you’re hot.” At this you and Jeno laugh again together, but after a few moments, Jeno stops laughing. 

“So you admit it?” Jeno asks curiously. 

“Yes, I do.” You say sighing, hating that you’re giving him this victory. “Lee Jeno, you’re one of the most attractive men I’ve seen in my whole life,” you vow. “Now, can I get back to my book?” You ask. 

“Fine.” Jeno obliges. He sits down on his towel laid out beside yours, lying down on his back as you read your book. His gaze changes from the ocean’s waves licking the sandy shores to the side of your face. You’re maybe a chapter in when Jeno interrupts your train of thought. 

“Are you really gonna be reading the whole time?” Jeno whines. “I didn’t bring anything to do because I thought we were gonna go in the water.” 

“Th-The water?” You ask. You look at Jeno as if he grew a second head. 

“Yes, water. We’re at the beach per your request. Remember?” Jeno says slowly. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think–” 

“You didn’t think about swimming at the beach?” Jeno asks incredulously. 

“No,” you respond, your voice small. 

“You’re literally wearing a swimsuit,” Jeno points out. 

“Yeah, but that’s just to get a good tan,” you say. Now that you say it out loud, it does sound kind of ridiculous that you didn’t even make plans about getting in the water today. “And plus,” you say a bit awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to swim.” 

It seems as though Jeno’s eyes are about to bulge out of his face. “You’ve been coming to this beach for years, and you don’t know how to swim?”

“I never really learned how. I mean, I did, but I wasn’t very good, and I’m super out of practice. I usually just come here to read or admire the scenery – Jeno!” You exclaim. Jeno snatches the book out of your hand and places it on the towel. He’s strong enough to hoist you up, and you’re left with no choice but to jog along with him to the edge of the shore, kicking up mounds of sand; you have a stinking suspicion about what he’s going to do. 

“Today’s the day I’m gonna teach you how to swim.” He says.

“B-But,” you stutter, struggling for words. Jeno doesn’t look like he’ll take no for an answer. 

“I promise I won’t let go of you, and we won’t go far from the shore.” He says, his gaze sincere. “Let’s start off with floating. Spread your arms out and kick your feet up. Act as though you want to lie down on the water like it’s sand. Like this.” Jeno demonstrates, going slightly away from the shore and deeper in the water, leaving you knee-deep, standing on the wet sand underfoot. Once Jeno has floated for a few seconds, he positions himself upright, everything except his neck and face submerged in water as he swims towards you, walking the last few steps to you. 

“Now you try.” You look a little nervous but follow what Jeno says. You kick your feet up and try to treat the water like it’s the sand you rest your towel against; Jeno’s hand is on the small of your back as he holds you up. You’re not used to the feeling of water in your ears, and you’re struggling to stay afloat as you accidentally breathe in water. Hearing you cough, Jeno sets you upright, and you cough up the salty water. 

“I don’t like,” you say between coughs. “The water in my ears. It keeps going in.”

“Trust me when I say that when you don’t want water to go in your ears and nose, it doesn’t. When you are thinking about water going into your ears and nose, it does. Now, let’s try again.” 

“No,” you whine. “I don’t like swimming.” 

“Please?” Jeno asks. “For me? After all, you did drag me out here so early.”

“Fine.” You relent. 

“Like I said,” Jeno chides, “Kick up your feet and lie on the water like it’s sand. Don’t struggle too much right now. Unless you don’t think about the water around your ears and nose, it won’t go in.”

You repeat what you did earlier, kicking up your feet and lying on the water like it’s sand. This time you don’t move a muscle. You let the gentle low-tide waves of the water kiss your skin and wash over you again before it’s exposed to the refreshingly cool ocean breeze again. Jeno’s hand is against the small of your back as he leads you to deeper waters. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Floating is all the same. If you can float in knee-deep water, you can float in deeper water.” Jeno looks into your eyes. “Don’t worry, I still won’t let go.” 

You don’t struggle against the water, and when you’re in the deeper water, Jeno helps bring you upright on the water. This time, your feet are unable to touch the ocean floor, and before the panic can settle in your eyes, Jeno is holding your waist. 

“Upright floating works the same way. Don’t struggle. Hold your head up high.” You follow as Jeno says and observes how he does it. Jeno slowly takes his hands away from your waist and holds your arm instead. Slowly, he lets go, and here you are in front of him, swimming; you’re pretty amazed too. 

“Oh my God, I’m doing it!” You say excitedly. Jeno shares your excitement. 

“I know. To think you wanted to give up,” Jeno shakes his head. 

Your bodies are close, so close that you can feel Jeno’s breath on your nose. Jeno looks almost angelic with the way the salty water glistens against his face as if his skin is made of diamonds. His jet-black hair is stuck to his forehead, and your hair is in thick, salty strands, but the moment still feels perfect; the shouting of children in the distance doesn’t bother either of you.

You almost want to ki– 

Suddenly, you’re taken out of your thoughts when a splash of cold water hits your face. Jeno has already swum a few feet away, the culprit of the cold splash on your face. 

“Tag! You’re it!” He says in between giggles.

“Jeno!” You exclaim, trying your best to swim and splash him. 

He’s the most handsome, adorable dork you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. 

-

Every summer, city council organized a summer concert series held at the local park. They mostly featured student bands, cover bands, and lots of vendors. But most importantly: they were free. 

The one happening tonight was the last one of this year’s series, and there would be fireworks. You hadn’t been able to attend the last few summer concerts because of your growing responsibilities at the pet shelter; you were becoming pet manager, a position where you would inventory what animals were available to adopt, and the numbers were changing every day. Also, Doyoung had gone on vacation along with many of the volunteers, so you, Taeyong, and Sungchan were left to cover for them. 

Tonight though, you were given the day off, so you decided to see if Jeno was free to go to the concert with you.

You tell your mother your intentions, and when you’re done talking, she gives you a sly look. 

“You’ve been hanging out with Jeno a lot recently. Is there something I should know about?” She asked. She doesn’t ask this in a condescending, strict-parent tone, but of one as a friend. For the most part, your mother was always the woman you came clean to and got advice from; there were truely only minal secrets you kept from her. 

“Yeah Y/N, is there something we should know about?” Renjun asks. 

Renjun. For a while, you had completely forgotten about him. He had started getting suspicious recently that you were harboring feelings for his long-time best friend. After the beach trip, he started getting suspicious, but he had been too busy to do anything about it, only sulking in the corner thinking about it.

You had to admit that you had a little crush on Jeno, in that every time you thought about him, your heart started racing in an exhilarating way. Maybe when Renjun was around, you weren’t as slick as you thought you were. “No,” you say, a little quieter than you meant for it to be. You clear your throat, making your voice louder. “Nothing’s going on. Jeno’s always available to hang out, which is why I’m hanging out with him.” 

Your mother doesn’t say anything, knowing Renjun is in the room. Most likely, Renjun was worried that if you and Jeno got into a relationship, it would mess up the long-time friendship they had, and if you broke up, it would be even worse. You understood his sentiment, but it’s not like Jeno likes you back… 

Right?

The way he looked at you, the way that when you talked, he was fully attentive, his soft, expressive eyes reacting, listening to every word you say.

That’s just because you guys have become good friends, right? 

(A part of you wishes that it isn’t). 

You’re wearing your standard summer uniform of daisy dukes and a T-shirt when you walk up to Jeno’s house and the door opens before you knock. Jeno is standing at the entrance of his house, already dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, showing off his strong arms. 

“Jeno,” you say. “Do you want to go to the summer concert together?” You ask. 

“Actually,” Jeno says shyly. “I was gonna ask you the same thing.” 

“Great.” Jeno invites you in and asks if you want anything. You said you would just have some water. He pours you a glass before heading to his room to grab a towel and some bug spray. Stepping outside, you both spray yourselves, and when he goes back inside to put the bug spray away, he tells his parents that he’s going to be out and will be back before ten. 

The park is a short drive from your neighborhood, and it is just as scenic as you remembered it to be. It’s about sixty-something acres filled with walking trails that loop around your city, which city council has tried hard to have more “green” city planning, rather than letting this place become a concrete jungle. 

In this park, there is lots of green space for people to lay their towels across the grass and enjoy the music. Most of the people here are young parents with budding families, in which a family-friendly free concert with a packed picnic and fireworks is the perfect summer activity. There are also older people like you and Jeno, showing up to the concert today because they were bored. The beginning of August signaled to high schoolers the start of school, and to college people that they would be moving back to their dorms soon. Either way, the park is packed. Tonight isn’t as hot and stuffy as most nights, which also accounts for why there are so many people here tonight. 

“What’s the theme for this concert?” You ask Jeno when you hop out of his car. 

“‘70’s American rock,” he says.

“Fun,” you say. You weren’t an avid rocker, but you turn on the oldies radio station, you didn’t mind listening to a few rock songs. “It’s better than working at the pet shelter every single night.” Jeno laughs. You loved your job more than anything, but you wanted a semblance of work-life balance. 

“Now I’m glad I didn’t take up Doyoung’s offer immediately,” Jeno says. 

“It isn’t usually this bad,” you say. “It’s just that Taeyong and many volunteers are on vacation, and I’m being given more responsibilities.” 

“Maybe I could come in and volunteer just to help you out,” Jeno says wistfully. “I’ll have to find time in my schedule,” he jokes. 

You raise a brow at the boy. “In your schedule of doing nothing?” You snort. 

“It’s not nothing,” Jeno counters. “I’m just relaxing before finding a job. Jobs are going to be there after I take a little break from college,” he says. Renjun wouldn’t ever be caught saying something like this. For him, it’s always one thing onto the next. Renjun is a restless man, and taking a break without a job would drive him crazy. 

While Renjun is ridiculously Type A, Jeno is the opposite. He’s used to opportunities coming to him, believing that everything has a way of working out in the end. It’s crazy how the two have managed to be friends with such vastly different outlooks on life. 

You drop the topic, opting to lay out the towel that Jeno brought. There’s enough space for both of you to fit… but tightly. Even though you’re wearing bug spray, the sharp, freshly cut grass makes your skin feel itchy. 

“I guess we’re gonna have to sit like this,” you say a little awkwardly. Jeno turns to face you, his face only inches from yours; your arms brush Jeno’s biceps, and you feel your throat become dry. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. No witty reply. 

The silence between you is broken by the cheers of the audience. The performers are here. 

“What’s up Neo City?” The head performer asks the audience. He’s a man in his mid to late twenties, wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. Cheers are the response, filling the air. 

“We’re Neo Culture Tech, and today we’re going to be performing some covers to end Neo City’s 1997 Summer Concert Series! We hope you enjoy the performance!” The man stops talking, and the park erupts with cheers.

The first note is played on the piano, followed by the addition of drums and electric guitar. The songs go on one by one, and Neo Culture Tech plays popular songs by the Eagles, ACDC, Fleetwood Mac, and Def Leopard. Parents are dancing with smaller children, singing along to the songs they listened to in grade school, while younger people sit on their towel and jam out to the songs less physically. 

You and Jeno are bobbing your heads together to the music, stealing glances at one another. Jeno was able to sing along a little to ‘Shoot to Thrill’ and ‘Gold Dust Woman,’ while you were able to sing along to ‘Witchy Woman’ and ‘Hotel California’ after memorizing the lyrics so long ago. As the guy who was playing the guitar played the guitar solos for ‘Hotel California,’ people cheered. 

“Before we start the fireworks show, I’d like to end off with a banger. Everyone stand up and find a partner to dance with!” the lead singer said. With that, the band started the chords for ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’ by Def Leopard.

Jeno looks at you, a wry smile on his face. “Would you care to dance with me, partner?” He asks, holding out his elbow. You loop your arm in his. 

“Of course.” 

By this time, more of the younger people were standing up, dancing with their friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, or wives. You and Jeno were dancing, not caring how you looked, your hands clasping and unclasping as Jeno twirled you around to the rock song. You both sing along to the song, knowing the famous song. 

When the song ends, you’re out of breath, your chest against Jeno’s, but Jeno doesn’t look very tired; there’s only a small drop of sweat pooling at his forehead, and he’s able to control his breathing. While the crowd screams, cheering for the band that just performed, you and Jeno are in your own world. 

You feel like you know what Jeno’s thinking. 

Slowly, you start leaning in, and Jeno follows your example. Before long, your lips land on his. You only want it to be a peck, but your body refuses to listen to your brain, so here you were, for what feels like centuries kissing Jeno. You weren’t going to struggle against your feelings anymore, you were going to float like you were at the beach.

Kissing your brother’s best friend. 

Kissing the guy that all the girls in high school drooled over, the guy that got so many sports scholarship offers, the guy that many thought was infallible. 

But he’s just Jeno, the adorable dork who’s stuck with your brother for almost their whole lives through thick and thin. 

The adorable dork that you’ve helplessly fallen in love with.

Reluctantly, you both pull away, your breaths hitting each others’ noses. You’re almost to scared to look Jeno in the eye.

You just changed everything. 

While you’re too busy not looking at Jeno, he takes your chin with his thumb and forefinger and tilts your gaze upward, to look at him. 

When you look into his beautiful brown eyes, you realize that you didn’t change everything with one kiss. The feelings were always there. While you were slowly falling for Jeno, Jeno started slowly falling for you.

“I-I think I’m in love with you,” Jeno says, his voice unsure, lacking that cocky athlete tone that’s synonymous with Lee Jeno. While one hand remained holding your chin up to face him, the other hand was on your waist.

You didn’t think you ever wanted him to stop touching you. 

“No,” he corrects himself, clearing his thoat. Seconds felt like hours, and your heart is racing like crazy.

“I know I’m in love with you.” 

You think the loud beating sound is just your heart, but when you look up, the black sky is filled with color, expressive fireworks shining before dissipating. Red, orange, blue, and purple fill the sky before gray smoke settles and floats away. The park is oddly quiet while at least two hundred people enjoy the fireworks and are held by their boyfriends or girlfriends. You look up with Jeno in the same position you were, his arm still on your faces close. Your jaw is close to touching his collar bone, your nose almost touching his neck. 

“I love you too.” 

-

It’s probably one in the morning right now. 

Ever since you and Jeno confessed your feelings, all you were doing was hiding your feelings around your family. You didn’t want Renjun finding out about your relationship just yet, and Jeno had the same idea. You and Jeno wouldn’t advertise to your families that you were hanging out, and most of the time, you met up at the pet shelter, where Doyoung was the only one who knew about the true nature of your relationship (after the unfortunate man walked in on you two making out in the janitor’s closet). You and Jeno forced him to promise that he wouldn’t tell anyone or even give any hints if he ran into your families; in small towns like yours, word travels fast.

Other than seeing Jeno at the animal shelter, you would sneak Jeno into your bedroom at night. A little part of you thrived from the danger you felt, doing something secret and slightly forebidden (nothing this exhilarating ever happened to you in high school or in college). You live in a one-story bungalow (like all the houses in your neighborhood), and your parents’ room is on the other side of your room, with the kitchen separating your rooms. 

However, only a wall was separating you from Renjun’s room. You think you’re safe right now since through the paper-thin walls, you can hear Renjun soundly snoring to himself. The iceing on the cake was that Renjun is a light sleeper. 

You hear a knock on your window, and you look to see that it’s Jeno. You’re in your pajamas, just a shirt with some pajama shorts, and you get off your bed, systematically opening the latch to your window. Pushing the window, it opens now, and Jeno opens it a little wider, enough for you to let him in. 

He’s dressed in a T-shirt, sweatpants, and red, drugstore flipflops. He rubs his arm a little bit, a small scowl on his face. 

“You should really trim that rose bush,” Jeno says softly, his gaze following to the rosebush that is near your window. Outside your window, you had a good view of the garden, and your mother took great pain to maintain that garden; your father often joked that it was her third child. For Jeno to get access to your window, he would have to wade through all the plants and flowers, careful not to step on anything because your mom would notice the next day. “I think it roughed me up pretty good.” 

“Let me see,” you whisper, pulling his arm. In the minimal light that came from the almost full moon outside, you’re able to see clearly. It’s just a little scratch, that was slowly turning into a red line. No blood. 

“You’ll live,” you say rolling you eyes. Sometimes Lee Jeno was the most dramatic guy that you’ve ever met.

Jeno pouts. “I think I would feel better if you kissed it,” he suggests.

You heave a sigh. “I swear to God,” you mutter. You lean foreward, pressing your lips against his arm. “That better?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning your weight to one leg. 

“How about one here?” He asks, pointing to his lips. 

You laugh a little to yourself. “Greedy little–” 

Jeno interrupts you. “Don’t act like you don’t want to.” 

Standing on your toes, you lean in, your nose touching Jeno’s for a brief moment before your lips collide. Jeno’s hands gravitate towards your waist as he tries to push you against the nearest wall. He pushes you to the wall with the window he climbed into your room with. There’s only a narrow gap of space between the edge of the window and the bookshelf that houses all of your albums. He pushes you there, his knee finding its place between you legs. He grunts a little as his lips trail from your mouth to your chin to your neck. He slides you against the wall, your elbow hitting the edge of your bookshelf, and something goes flying off of the top of your bookshelf.

Immediately, you and Jeno jump apart at the noise when the object hits the floor. You’re thankful that the carpet muffles the sound, but it’s still audible since it hit the edge of the wooden door. You bend down to examine the fallen object, realizing that it’s just a snowglobe. You pick it up, putting it on your desk instead. No one stirs. Renjun is still in his room snoring. 

“We’re supposed to be quiet!” You whisper loudly, putting your index finger to your lips. 

“I’m sorry!” Jeno apologises. 

“God, you lumber around my room like you haven’t been here before,” you joke. “How about let’s go into the bed where there’s less chance of making a noise.”

Jeno quickly agrees, and you both go into your bed, under the covers. Jeno’s arms find their place around you once more, and you put your head on Jeno’s chest, feeling his heartbeat. Jeno kisses the top of your head. After a few moments of lying like this in silence, your lips find Jeno’s again. You’re on top of him, him straddling your hips, but quickly, it turns into him on top of you. You both kiss each other with a new kind of fervor, but Jeno pulls away. “How long are we going to be doing this?” He asks. “I don’t know about you, but this whole sneaking around thing is getting kind of old. I just want to call you my girlfriend in front of people.”

You kiss him. “Just until I get the chance to tell Renjun.” You say. “I have a speech prepared.” You clear you throat, shifting your position in bed so you can face your boyfriend. In the dim light in which you can barely see Jeno, you can imagine his beautiful features, barely believing that you are his girlfriend. “I love Jeno, Jeno loves me, we want to be together, and you can’t do anything about it.” Jeno waits for more. 

“That’s it?” He asks.  

You shrug your shoulders. “What else am I supposed to say?” 

Jeno smiles. He finds directness to be one of your most endearing qualities. You aren’t scared to say what’s on your mind, even if it’s controversial. He puts a hand on your cheek and brings you closer to him, kissing you again. His lips smack against your’s and you’re pretty sure you can hear audible popping sounds every time you both mutually pull away for air, only meaning to come back. 

When he pulls away, Jeno says. “Y/N, you should at least be a bit more considerate to his feelings. This is going to be a big change for him.” Jeno reasons. 

You seemed to like the exact opposite of what Jeno sees in you. You liked the way he considered everyone, and although it sometimes makes it seems like he is a people-pleaser, people who are the most considerate to others’ feelings when it doesn’t align with their own are the people who are the peacemakers, the role models, the people who rule the world. 

While you were the fire, Jeno was the water, who made you see reason. And your directness teaches Jeno to stand up for himself. 

“I know, but if Renjun can’t accept it, then he needs to grow up.” 

“I don’t think Renjun wants to grow up.” 

After you hear the new voice, the lights turn on, and you and Jeno immediately jump apart to opposite sides of your twin bed (but it’s not possible without your bodies still touching). This only gives the onlooker a better view of the two parties involved. When you and Jeno finally decide to face the onlooker, you realize that it’s Renjun in his pajamas. He wasn’t wearing his contacts, but he doesn’t need them to recognize the two most important people in his life. His arms are crossed as he examines both you and Jeno, and together, you both struggle for an explanation.

“Surprise?” You and Jeno chorus together. 

-

PRESENT DAY

Eventually, Renjun got over it. Or else, he wouldn’t have been able to give such a wonderful best man speech. 

That’s right. After years of dating which helped you realize that no one was more perfect for you than Jeno, you and Jeno decided to get married in 2003 after you both were settled in your careers. Jeno, after a few months of relaxation, got a job at a marketing firm, and he worked his way up to become a lead account manager. You, after earning your degree in accounting, worked at a firm for a few years before quitting and becoming the book keeper at Taeyong’s pet shelter, which now you owned. Taeyong moved to his mother’s paid-off house in Seoul to take care of his aging mother, so he stepped down and gave you ownership of his beloved pet shelter. He now worked at his mother’s supermarket and visited you often.

Sometimes, it amazed you how far society has gone since your childhood. You would never have dreamed of touch-screen cell phones with the power of a full-sized computer or your fridge making grocery lists for you. It was convenient and fascinating, but at other times, this new world scared you; only recently has it been confirmed that your phone is listening to you and people are selling your online data.

“Kids, dinner!” You shouted up the stairs. Just after you were married, you became pregnant with your daughter, and five years later, your son came along. 

“Coming,” your daughter Yoona said. 

“Yeah!” Your son Hyuckjae yelled from his room. That wasn’t really an answer, leaving you signing by the kitchen. 

Jeno is already sitting at the table, eating the meal that you prepared. It wasn’t that complicated, just some fried rice with some vegetables and meat, as well as potato soup since you were tired after your long day at work. You sat at the table next to your husband, and you know you don’t have to call for your children again when you hear thundering down the stairs. Yoona’s phone is glued to her hands, while Hyunjae finds his position next to Jeno. The food is on the table, but only three of you are eating; Yoona’s food remains untouched as she sits down and keeps her attention only on her phone, not acknowledging the presence of her family.

“Yoona!” You say, snapping in front of her face. Only when you put your hand between her phone did she actually look at you. 

“What do you want mom?” She says, exasperated. 

“Aren’t you going to eat your food?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, “In a little bit,” Almost immediately, she only looks back at your phone. 

“Yoona, put the phone away.” 

“That’s right honey,” a new voice interjects, and it’s Jeno. “Put your phone away. We want to have a conversation.” Jeno adds. 

“About what?” Yoona asks. She finally puts her phone down and looks at you both. “Are you guys having a midlife crisis?”

“Midlife –” Jeno stops. 

“We’re not even that old yet!” You exclaim.

“Yeah Yoona,” Hyuckjae adds. 

“Shut up Hyuckjae,” Yoona says, her voice snarky. “Buttering up to Mom and Dad isn’t going to get you a phone.” 

“Says who?” Hyuckjae argues back. “Mom and Dad didn’t say anything.” 

“Hyuckjae, you’re not getting a phone,” you say stubbornly. 

“Oh come on, Mom!” Hyunjae whines. “I’m the only eighth grader without a phone!” Hyuckjae counters. 

“Me and your father didn’t have a phone at your age. You’ll live.” 

“That’s because you guys lived in the stone ages.” 

Jeno scoffs. “The ‘90’s weren’t even that long ago.” 

Yoona cocks her head. “The ‘90’s are in history books now.” 

You and Jeno both look at each other, but Yoona continues. “The ‘90’s were like thirty years ago.” 

You knew that time had passed, but it never really occurred to you the quantifiable number of years; someone born in 1990 is in their thirties now. You vividly remember 1990, being a thirteen year old. Jeno was fifteen. You wonder how he’s feeling. 

“That doesn’t change why you should have a phone, Hyuckjae,” you say. 

“What about schoolwork? I’ll be in high school in the fall.” 

“You can use the family computer.” Hyuckjae groans; the desktop in the computer room right off the entrance of your’s and Jeno’s suburban home (originally the formal dining room) is a Windows 8.1, and somewhat slow. 

“Hyuckjae, we’ll get you a phone your first month of freshman year, just like your mom and I agreed on.” Jeno says cooly. “That’s when Yoona got her first phone.” 

Hyunjae grunts. “But that’s so long from now.” 

Noticing how the conversation mainly was between you, Jeno, and Hyunjae, Yoona gestures to pick up her phone when you point at her. 

“Don’t even think about picking up that phone right now, young lady,” you say pointedly, and Yoona’s hands immediately back away. 

“Right that conversation we’re going to have,” Jeno says, redirecting the topic. “How was everyone’s day?” 

“That’s the conversation you want to have?” Yoona says. 

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” You ask, defending Jeno. 

“Nothing…” Yoona trails away. 

“I’ll start,” you say. “I had an overall good day. Taeyong gave me an extra 15% off groceries instead of 10%.” It was incredibly convenient that Taeyong’s mother’s supermarket was only eight miles from the pet shelter. 

“Nice,” Jeno says, smiling in that same boyish eyesmile that you fell in love with all those years ago. “I had an average day. It would have been good, but the coffee machine in the cafeteria broke,” Jeno sighs.

You and Jeno both turn to look at Yoona. “I had a good day, I guess. I got a 100 on my calculus test.” 

“Great job!” Jeno says. You reach over to rub Yoona’s shoulders. 

“You see? I told you it would benefit to go to calculus tutoring,” you say. 

“Hyuckjae? How was your day?” Jeno asks. 

“Not good. You guys aren’t getting me a phone.” 

“We just said we would!” You exclaim. “When you’re a freshman.” 

Hyuckjae grunts at this and stands up, heading towards the sink to clear the remnants on his plate. You didn’t realize that Yoona and Hyukcjae had been eating particularly fast tonight, evident by their nearly empty dishes.

“I’m going to the computer room,” he says, not waiting for a response when he leaves. Shortly after, Yoona is done with her food. After rinsing her plate, she leaves it in the sink and snatches her phone off of the dining room table (as if you were going to take it and look at the texts on the notification bar). 

“I’m going to my room,” she says. She waits for you to say a resigned ‘okay,’ and she heads up the stairs, sparing no time to look at her phone.

“What could be so important that she can barely stay a free moment without her phone?” You voice to your husband. You and Jeno are taking your time eating your meal at the table, now by yourselves. 

“What isn’t so important at that age?” Jeno says before slurping the soup collected in his spoon. “When you’re a teenager, you see things with a different perspective than you would see if you were a mom, for example.” 

You sigh at these words, the fresh perspective that your husband is giving you that you failed to see initially. Jeno is good at seeing all sides of the situation; that’s why Renjun always goes to him for advice.

“I guess,” you say, crossing your arms. “I can’t imagine being a kid right now.”

“I bet Yoona and Hyuckjae can’t imagine being a kid in the ‘90’s.” 

You sigh. “Things really have changed, haven’t they?” When you and Jeno were younger, you weren’t trying to get the best gadgets to impress your friends, you didn’t have advanced TV’s and vacuum cleaners that were listening to you, you weren’t always on Instagram and Twitter, and the concept of a ‘social media influencer’ didn’t exist at all.

When you and Jeno were younger, you thought the future would resemble Back to the Future. Although there weren’t any hoverboards that actually hovered the ground in 2016, the actual future paralleled the movie in surprising ways with the fact that people were always so distracted with the screens in their hands. 

“Don’t you ever just feel…” you start off. Jeno’s attention is on you while he eats. 

“Don’t you ever feel that people are always in their own worlds?” You ask. “Always on their phones looking at the latest posts, listening to music, downloading photos? No one ever runs around the neighborhood and draws chalk or play with the neighborhood kids,” you sigh. It was like people preferred to type than to talk. 

“Yeah. It wasn’t like that when we were kids,” Jeno says. You eat a couple of spoons of friend rice, the silence between you both evident. 

“In a way,” Jeno says, “Things are still the same.” 

“How?” You ask.

“Well, people still have the need to be social, whether it’s on social media or in person. And we are still trying to keep up with our friends,” he says. Without words, you know he’s talking about your son and how obsessed he was about getting a phone since his friends started to flash their iPhones and Samsungs. 

“I still think life was simpler back in the ‘90’s,” you say stubbornly. “Even though we had to use TV Guide to find out what was on TV, it was still easier. I’m always looking over my shoulder these days,” you confess. “Every single second, so much data is being collected and sold, it makes me worried. On top of all that, social media isn’t good for young kids,” you say, redirecting the conversation back to Hyuckjae. You feel a little guilty seeing Hyuckjae so upset that he doesn’t have a phone, but it was the principle that mattered. You didn’t think phones were good for young kids, to be hooked up to the internet 24/7. Being fifteen and having a phone isn’t much better than being fourteen and having a phone, but you drew the line at high school. You couldn’t protect your son forever, no matter how much you desperately wanted to. 

“There’s still something that remains simple, though,” Jeno says. When he gently squeezes your thigh, you think you have an idea. 

“This,” he says. He leans over and kisses your lips, cupping your cheek. His lips are soft as they rub rhythmically against your lips. He pulls away, his voice soft. “I love you. We can be in 2092, teleporting to see our great-grandchildren, and I’ll be in love with you,” Jeno says. 

You giggle. Nineteen years of marriage, and he still makes you feel like a young bride. 

“We can be in 3092 with our brains connected to robots, and I’ll still be in love with you,” you counter, turning this into a competition.

“How about let’s think about right now,” Jeno says. He cups your cheeks in his hands and admires your eyes before he kisses you deeply, as if he isn’t going to kiss you ever again. 

The world can change as much as it wants, as long as you have Lee Jeno by your side. 

a/n: if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading :) since this is my first slowburn, let me know what you thought in the comments or by sending me an ask! thanks again!

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get f*cked  — lee hyunjae

member: hyunjae — tbz

tags: enemies to lovers <3, no actual smut (idk is a makeout scene smut?) but Very Suggestive™, various references to sex and Certain Kinks LMAOO bye

word count: 9.2k

a/n: i’ve been reading a lot of erotic novels lately LOL and well. i got inspired so <3 !! also a VERY special thanks to @cloudykyu​ who helped so so so much <3333 as well as @yeoldotcom​ @brururun​ @seoulbinz​ for encouraging me throughout <333 love u mamas <3

taglist: @stopitvpls​ @hyuckslytherin​ @vitaminhyunjin @kitymetal @notbeforelong @mavericsohn

playlist: kiss with a fist florence + the machine • choke i dont know how but they found me • boys like you tanerélle • two more minutes jaymes young • hurts like hell sølv • give up at 2 sofi de la torre • need you like that ezi • tempt my trouble bishop briggs • crave tove lo • loveyou dxvn. • bedroom eyes sølv • afraid of the dark ezi (full playlist here)

rage. there it was again. it always seemed to make an appearance when lee hyunjae was around.

your fists are balled up so tight that the skin stretched across your knuckles begins to turn white.

if looks could kill, hyunjae would’ve been dead a long time ago.

and there was his stupid fucking grin again. always playing on his lips, like he was having the time of his life pushing your buttons.

Keep reading

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I am a simp

here comes the prettyboymobile (230513)

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