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HIDDEN LOVE ⋆𐙚 lhs

꒰ SUMMARY ! ꒱ to others, he was lee heeseung: musical prodigy, star of the basketball team, and golden boy of his college. to you, he was hee: your brother’s best friend, your safe place, and your first and final love.

pairing brother’s bsf!heeseung x fem!reader (ft. brother!jay) warning mention of violence, assault, profanity, blood and injury, not proofread word count 9.2k notes happy bday @bluriki! love u rora bb & hope you like my gift! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

THE FIRST TIME YOU MET LEE HEESEUNG, he was nineteen and you were seventeen.

School bag in hand and sweat on your forehead, you sighed in content as the coolness of the air conditioned home kissed your flushed skin. The summer heat was unforgiving, so no one could blame you when you rushed towards the freezer, throwing the door open in search of the precious stash of mango popsicles you saved for yourself as treats for enduring another tedious day at school. The last thing you expected was to find that there was none left.

In disbelief, you rummaged through the drawers, wondering if you misplaced them. But it soon came clear to you that this wasn’t an error on your part. There was no one else in this household who had the same appetite for ice cream as you did — and this time, you just knew he was to blame.

You slammed the door of the freezer shut, your mind made up as you stomped over to your brother’s room. Since he came home from college for summer break, he had been invading every bit of territory that you claimed as your own upon his departure from home. You didn’t even need to question when he had the opportunity to steal your precious ice cream. The evidence was all against him. So you didn’t hesitate to enact justice when you saw him.

“Hey!” you yelled at the top of your lungs. You twisted open his bedroom door, throwing it open with all the annoyance you could summon. “Park Jeongseong, you—!”

You froze mid sentence, eyes comically wide as they stared at the sight before you — one that wasn’t your brother. A person who could only be a character of a manhwa who had come to life. Had you been idealised without even realising? Because the stranger in front of you was far too pretty to be real.

Sitting in the halo of the sunlight that filtered through your brother’s window, the person before you cradled a guitar over his lap, slender fingers pausing in the middle of a gentle strum. Doe-like eyes met yours, giving him the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights. Still, with the framing of his soft hair against his forehead and the soft angles around his face, he didn’t look any less handsome in his surprised state. With his casual baggy t-shirt and jeans, he looked like the typical flower male leads of high school romance dramas.

“…Bastard…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes blinking rapidly at the unwilling words which left your mouth. The handsome stranger raised a perfect brow at the sudden name-call, and you felt your face flush. Somehow, even such a simple action seemed attractive when he did it.

“Sorry, not you!” you amended immediately. “I was just—!” You were about to explain yourself like a burglar who was caught in the middle of a heist, only to realise that wasn’t right at all: pretty or not, the person in front of you was a total stranger inside your home, in your brother’s room. You crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground against the curious gaze of the intruder. “Wait a second— who are you? And why are you in my house?”

The intruder looked at you. You looked back. Then after a few seconds, he laughed. In your confusion, you failed to notice your older brother creep up behind you with an unimpressed look. “What are you doing in my room? I told you not to go in without knocking.”

You turned around to meet your older brother’s questioning gaze. By now, you had completely forgotten about the ice cream, instead focusing on the new mystery in front of you. “But!” You pointed to the stranger on your brother’s bed like a child pointing out a stray puppy to their mother. “There’s a random guy in your room!”

Jeongseong — or rather, “Jay,” as he liked to be called — followed the direction of your pointed finger, his gaze landed on the boy on his bed. Your brother let out a sigh. Like an adult dealing with a troublesome child, he looked down at you with a flat look. “That ‘random guy’,” Jay said, “is my best friend from college.”

Your eyes widened comically, a small ‘o’ forming on your lips. “You have friends?”

There was silence. Then, the emptiness was filled with the sound of rich laughter, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the warmth of the sound, your head turning to look at the source. Your brother’s so-called ‘best friend’ was smiling at you, his eyes dancing with mirth. Your brother rolled his eyes from behind you, unaware of the infatuated look in your eyes as you took in the sight before you.

“Heeseung, meet my little sister, [_____].” Jeongseong’s rough palm landed on the top of your head, forcing it down into a polite nod, and breaking your trance with the older male in front of you. You furrowed your brows and shook off the weight of his heavy hand, lifting your head to meet the eyes of this ‘Heeseung.’ “[_____], say hi.”

You timidly bowed your head, fidgeting slight under the amused gaze of the handsome boy in front of you.

He nodded at you, a soft smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Little Park,” he said, his voice full of the gentleness one might have when speaking to a baby kitten. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging out in your home.”

You blinked, too startstruck to do anything else. And from that moment on, your world was never the same.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED YOU MIGHT HAVE A LITTLE CRUSH ON LEE HEESEUNG, it was only a few days after meeting him.

Ever since you met Heeseung, he had been around the house more often, seeing as he had won over your parents as easily as he seemingly won over you — with his charms and smile, the couple instantly invited Heeseung to hang over at your home more often. And surprisingly enough, the boy instantly agreed.

You had always been shy around strangers. But at your age, within the walls of your school, someone as handsome as Lee Heeseung was rarer than a Shiny Pokémon. And while your own brother was considered good-looking by many people, including your friends, you had grown immune to his face from years of exposure to it and because of many embarrassing childhood memories of him attached to it. To you, Lee Heeseung was from a whole different world from your own. And that was why you couldn’t help but treat him differently than you did other boys you met.

You were skittish around him, avoiding him like a cat would water. You made sure you weren’t alone with him for too long out of fear that you might embarrass yourself with your awkwardness. On the other hand, he had always been the one to give you warm smiles out of kindness, greeting you whenever you somehow crossed paths. And you had to admit that it made you feel warm inside. But at the same time, having him around your house constantly was a little unnerving. Especially when he witnessed all the little moments that happened in your own home — even those you wished he wouldn’t have witnessed at all.

You had a test coming up for one of your classes which you had been struggling with, and in a last ditch effort to save your failing grade, you enlisted the help of your much more academically gifted older brother. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, your books and stationary scattered across the small coffee table, while your brother sat on the couch behind you, arms crossed over his chest and a ruler in his left hand, painting the image of an old-school teacher with Spartan teaching methods.

“Okay, so which formula do you use to solve this?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at the paper in front of you, trying to mentally flip through all the pages of formulas you had tried to cram in your head under your brother’s expectant gaze. You frowned when you could only remember the first few parts, completely unable to decipher the rest from the random jumble of letters and numbers that your brain came up with to fill your gaps in knowledge.

“Ouch!” You yelped when you suddenly felt the familiar feeling of the end of Jeongseong’s ruler lightly knocking your skull. You raised your hands defensively to plant on top of your head. Pouting, you turned around to glare at your brother. “What was that for?”

“I was giving your braincells a manual reboot,” he said plainly. “How hard is this? I already told you so many times how to do it.”

You huffed, your pride wounded as Jeongseong chided you. It would be fine if it was only you and your parents in the home to witness your lack of mental capacity for math. But as it happened, your brother’s best friend was pouring himself a drink in the kitchen, and happened to witness everything with front row seats.

“Seriously, how are you this dumb?” Jeongseong asked.

You drowned in embarrassment as you felt Heeseung’s eyes on the two of you. Even if he was your brother’s best friend, he was still essentially a stranger to you, and it was always more humiliating to be humbled in front of people you didn’t know. So for your brother to call you ‘dumb’ in front of him, you couldn’t help but feel wronged.

You glared at your bother. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it,” you hissed under your breath, your hands balling into fists at your side. “I’m trying my best.”

Before Jay could ask what was wrong with you, you quickly stood from your seat, your hair falling over your eyes as they remained glued to the floor. And without another word, you stormed to your room. You slammed the door shut, ignoring the protests from your older brother. Flopping onto your bed, you buried your face into one of the plushies, your limbs laying limp by your side.

You thought about the way you left the scene and groaned. Now you probably looked weird and stupid at the same time. You reached over to your bedside subconsciously, and groaned again when you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. Your laptop was still in the living room, as well, so you couldn’t carry out your plans to waste the day away in your room like you had planned.

Great. Just great.

Seems like you would just have to force yourself to take a nap instead. Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall asleep. But a knock at your door had them snapping open once more. Was it Jeongseong? What did he want right now?

Groaning, you dragged yourself off the bed. At the door, you readied yourself to give the meanest glare that you could possibly give, in case he tried to give you a hard time because of your attitude. But when you opened the door, you were surprised to find someone who wasn’t your brother.

“Hey, Little Park,” Heeseung greeted. Your eyes widened, and you felt your breath be caught inside your chest. Because why was Lee Heeseung currently in front of your room? “Sorry to bother you, I just came to bring these for you.”

Your eyes flitted down to the tray inside Heeseung’s hands that you didn’t notice upon seeing his face. It had a glass of juice on it, as well as a plate of fruit that he had cut. “This is for me?” you asked in surprise. “What’s it for?”

Heeseung chuckled warmly at your reaction. “Your brother asked me to bring it for you, since he knew you probably didn’t want to come out into the kitchen after…”

You lowered your head in shame at the reminder of how you suddenly stormed out the living room. “Please forget that happened… It’s embarassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Heeseung said gently. “Your brother did a lot more embarassing things in front of me. His mood swings were the worst during puberty.”

You laughed as you recalled memories of your older brother when he was fourteen. He had a bit of a temper, and got angered at the slightest inconveniences. One of his infamous grievances — or so you heard from your parents, when they came back from a parent-teacher interview for your brother — was when he gathered all the members of his football team in the locker rooms and gave them all a dressing-down for leaving their dirty towels scattered across the changing rooms.

Seeing your smile, Heeseung returned it with one of his own. He held out the tray in his hands, and you took it gratefully into your smaller ones, your fingers brushing slightly from the contact. You expected him to let go straight away, but to your surprise, he kept his hands there. You looked up at him questioningly.

“I know you probably wouldn’t want to hear this right now,” he said, “but your brother really cares for you.” He gestured to the fruit on the plate. “I know for a fact that whenever me and my older brother argued, he would never think to feed me afterwards.”

You lowered your head at Heeseung’s words. You knew this very well, in fact. Your brother was the person who cared about your most on this world, aside from your parents. Your mother often told the tales of how your brother had refused to leave your side when you were younger, insisting on sleeping in your room with you in case you got lonely. And then when your parents woke up to check on you when you started crying in the middle of the night, by the time they made it to the room, your brother was already by your side, gently patting you back to sleep.

Even when the two of you bickered, you knew you were fortunate to have a brother like Jeongseong.

“I know,” you told Heeseung, your head lowered.

Heeseung chuckled. And a second later, you found yourself freezing when you felt his palm on the top of your head. “Hey,” he said, meeting your surprised gaze with a smile. “Don’t feel bad.” He gave your head a gentle pat, chuckling awkwardly when you seemed even more confused. “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

The two of you laughed together, and the earlier gloom above your head was chased away by the brightness of his smile.

“I should probably go back to study,” you said, suddenly feeling invigorated.

Heeseung hummed. “How about I help you?” Upon seeing your surprised expression, he smiled warmly. “I have the free time, and your brother is still moping in his room. So we can go over some of the things you’re struggling with.”

You eagerly accepted the older boy’s offer, and the two of you sat down at the coffee table, knees brushing against each other, and your heads bumping slightly as you hunched over your school work.

You looked up at one point, after a particularly problematic equation, discretely watching Heeseung as he scanned your working. At this angle, you could admire the length of his eyelashes and the perfect outline of his side profile, and the way his chocolate brown irises appeared like caramel in the lighting. You almost flinched when those eyes of his met yours. And then he smiled at you, his hand reaching up to the top of your head once more.

“Good job, Little Park,” he said warmly. And you couldn’t help but beam under his praise. “You should take a break, though. It’s been a while.”

You didn’t refuse. After all, you would much rather not do any more equations. You worried it may be awkward between you and Heeseung, though, seeing as you’ve never had a proper conversation before today. But soon, the living room was filled with your voices as you discussed topic after topic.

“So you have an older brother, right?” you asked, remembering how he mentioned it earlier. “Do you get along?”

Heeseung hummed, and you couldn’t help but note the smooth but low register of his voice when he was relaxed. “We get along like all brothers do — but I’d say you and Jay seem to be closer than we are.” Heeseung smiled as he observed your facial features. “You’re really similar, too. Me and my brother never had a lot of shared interests.”

You tilted your head curiously. “How so?”

Heeseung leaned back onto the sofa behind the two of you, looking up at the ceiling, and giving you a nice view of his Adam’s Apple. “He was always more studious. Top student and everything. I liked music and basketball better — and apparently I’m pretty good at it.”

“Really? That’s cool!” Music and basketball was an interesting combination. But It made sense, too, considering Heeseung’s physique: Heeseung was much taller than average, and even your brother was quite a bit shorter than him; his fingers were long and slender as well, and probably skilful with the piano — though you, of course, wouldn’t say that out loud. “So you’re good at basketball? I can see it,” you said, nodding sagely. “You have the height for it.”

Heeseung chuckled. “I think I’ve heard that one before.”

The more you spoke to Heeseung, the easier for you to let down your guard. While your first impression was someone out of reach, you realised he was actually very comfortable to be around. “By the way,” you said, looking up at Heeseung, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Heeseung blinked, obviously surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“I mean…” You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You couldn’t let him know you wanted to see if he was available — especially since you only just met. “Most guys your age have girlfriends, right?”

“Your brother doesn’t, though,” Heeseung pointed out.

You nodded. “Well, that’s because my brother is terrible at flirting with girls. So it makes sense.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So what about me, then?” The corner of his lips tugged into a smirk. “If you think I have a girlfriend, are you saying I’m good at flirting?”

You blinked, not expecting that sort of question to come from him. You awkwardly avoided his eyes, humming uncertainty. “Well… I mean— you probably wouldn’t be bad at it… Right?”

Heeseung paused. Then, he laughed, the sound so full and resonant it caused your heart to beat wildly in return. “Well, I’m flattered,” he said while looking at you with amusement. He leaned towards you, his voice and smirk holding a teasing lilt. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

You didn’t realise it then, but that fluttering feeling inside your chest when you made eye contact was the beginning of your first and only love.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED THAT LEE HEESEUNG REALLY CARED ABOUT YOU, he was twenty and you were eighteen.

A year had passed since you met Lee Heeseung in your brother’s room, and since then, you could say that — whenever he was on break from college — the older boy had become something of a constant in your life from there on. Every day, when you came home from school, he would be there with a cup of juice for you to fend off the heat. And when winter came, the juice would be replaced with hot chocolate. And one the first day you saw each other during his seasonal breaks, he would have a gift for you.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t been suspecting it. But as soon as Heeseung laid eyes on you when he walked through the front door of your house, he had immediately gestured you over to him. You, being the lovesick puppy you were, immediately bounded up to him. And your eyes lit up when he held out his hand with a keychain of your favourite Sanrio character.

“Here,” he said to you, in that same gentle tone he always did. “I got this for you. I saw it at a gift store and thought you would like it.”

Jeongseong gave him an ugly look. “Where’s my present?”

Heeseung walked past him. “It’s me.”

Your brother, having his delicate feelings offended, immediately pounced on his friend in retaliation. Their laughter bounced off the walls of your home. And as the two tall males brawled playfully in front of the entrance to your home, you simply stared at the keychain in your hand with a smile, before clutching it close to your heart.

It had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where you had been used to his presence. So, whenever your brother was home, but you didn’t see Heeseung’s face, you pestered Jeongseong about it.

“Where’s Hee?” you asked one day, as you returned home from school, only to find the familiar head of ashy silver hair was no where to be seen.

Your brother gave you a narrow stare, and you briefly wondered if he had caught onto your little puppy crush on his best friend, and had consequently chased Heeseung out of his home in his typical overprotective fashion. But instead, he turned back to his show on the television, brushing your question off with a dismissive explanation.

“He’s busy,” Jeongseong said.

You frowned at the news.

“Did you ask about if he was coming to my graduation?” you asked your brother. It was your final year in high school, and in a week’s time, you would be graduating. Since Heeseung had grown close to your family, you thought that perhaps he might come. But your brother nipped that thought in the bud.

Jeongseong turned around and gave you a strange look. “Why would he?”

You paused. That was a good question: why would Lee Heeseung attend your graduation? Even if it was a milestone in your life, were the two of you really close enough that he needed to be there to share it?

“Ah,” you said, disappointed. “Never mind…”

You knew it was foolish of you to be upset about this. After all, he didn’t have an obligation to be there. The two of you wouldn’t even know each other if it weren’t for your older brother. It was childish of you to assume he would be there, as if you really meant anything to him — as if you weren’t just someone he treated well for the sake of being related to a good friend of his.

Besides, he was busy. What right did you have to demand his time?

You dragged your feet as you went towards you room, phantom puppy ears flattening against your head. As if sensing the sulking aura from you, Jeongseong let out a heavy sigh and said, “Bring your phone.”

Your head whipped towards your brother in shock. “What?”

“If you want to ask him to go to your graduation, then you ask him yourself.” Jeongseong looked at over form over the couch, holding his hand out to you. “I’ll give you his number.”

You rushed to hand your phone over to your brother like he had offered you a pot of gold. You weren’t sure why your brother was offering you his best friend’s number, but you didn’t question it. Heeseung was the only friend of his he ever allowed near his home — so it went to show that your brother didn’t mind if he was around you. You just had to make sure you weren’t obvious. So after Jeongseong had typed Heeseung’s number, you feigned calmness as you thanked him and went to your room.

But the second you closed the door behind you, you jumped onto your bed while kicking your feet giddily. After saving his contact under your nickname for me — accompanied by a hamster emoji — you quickly sent a text his way, letting him know that your brother gave him your number. It didn’t take long before you received a reply.

Hee 🐹: thanks for letting me know

Hee 🐹: i’ll save your number

You smiled as you sent another text.

You: sorry to bother you btw

You: i just wanted to ask if you were free next friday

Hee 🐹: next friday??

Hee 🐹: sorry little park but i’m busy on that day

Hee 🐹: why do you ask?

You frowned at the reply. Of course. Your brother had told you he was busy, so you shouldn’t have been disappointed. But a small part of you — the naive part — was hoping that, by some twist of fate, he would be free to celebrate what was a special day in your life. Biting your lip, you sent back a solemn reply.

You: no, it’s nothing

You: just asking

You quickly changed the topic, not wanting to alarm the boy. Knowing him, he would feel guilty if he knew he was missing out on your graduation: he was just kind like that. Always wanting to be there for everyone, always wanting to make everyone happy. You supposed it was selfish to want to keep him to yourself.

You: are you okay?

You genuinely didn’t want him to be overworking himself, so you had to make sure.

Hee 🐹: i’m fine don’t worry about me

Hee 🐹: i’ve been working at a music store lately to earn some money

You tilted your head. You knew Heeseung was talented when it came to music, but you didn’t know he worked at a music store. His parents were well off much like yours and Jeongseong’s, so he didn’t need to worry about funds — just like you and Jeongseong were told by your parents to simply focus on studying rather than getting jobs before you graduated. But it was admirable seeing Heeseung be independent, regardless.

Smiling, you sent back a text of your own.

You: oooh i didn’t know that you had a job!

You: congrats! 🥳

You: hope i’m not bothering you

Your heart skipped a beat at the next text.

Hee 🐹: you could never be a bother to me

You didn’t realise how much Heeseung meant that until a week later, after you had walked off the stage with your graduation certificate.

Your cheeks had hurt from smiling so much, your graduation certificate held carefully in your arms. Being able to celebrate it with your family and school friends you spent years with made the lack of Heeseung’s presence feel a little less empty. So you, were content with what you had, and didn’t dare ask for more.

After taking photos with your friends, you stuck by your family the entire time, until your brother had excused himself for a second to answer a call.

“Hey, are you here yet?” Jeongseong asked on the phone, making his way away from you and your parents. You didn’t pay attention to what he might be saying, too focused on posing for more pictures as a photographer your parents hired snapped away on their camera.

Time passed since your brother had left, and you didn’t know when he came back, but when he ran back towards you and your parents, he promptly apologised by saying, “I had to go pick something up.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Pick up what?”

A tap on your shoulder caught you off guard, and you whipped your head around to face the perpetrator. You hadn’t expected to come face to face with the person you had been missing tonight. You gasped and broke away from Heeseung in shock, a hand flying to your mouth. He simply chuckled at your expression, eyes crinkling and sparkling with mirth. “Happy graduation, Little Park.”

“Hee!” you exclaimed excitedly, and you jumped on him, almost tackling him to the ground. You giggled with glee as he returned your embrace, his arms wrapping around you gently, and a hand coming up to the back of your head, cradling it to his chest. Your parents chuckled on the background, and your brother sighed. You pulled back, eyes full of wonder as you looked up at your crush. “But didn’t you say you were busy? I mean, you had work, right?”

Heeseung smiled. “I couldn’t miss your graduation, could I?” He then pouted at you. “I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t mention it, though.” You sheepishly lowered your head, and he chuckled before patting your head. “Don’t worry. That’s what your brother is for. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s telling people all about your business.”

“Hey!” Jeongseong protested at having been exposed for his habit of bringing you up any chance he got. You blinked in surprise, not expecting that side of him. But as if he didn’t like the way your attention drifted from him, Heeseung cleared his throat.

You immediately looked at him. And then, as if he didn’t surprise you enough already, he suddenly pulled a bouquet out from behind his back — one that had to be bigger than the size of your head, but which happened to have all your favourite flowers.

All of a sudden, you remembered a conversation the two of you had, a few days ago on the phone.

“Can you help me with something?” Heeseung asked on the phone. You, of course, eagerly agreed, and he explained his situation. “I want to buy my brother’s girlfriend some flowers to welcome her into the family, but I don’t know which ones a girl would like. Can you give me some ideas?”

You “ooh”ed in understanding, racking your brain for some common flowers. Secretly, your heart fluttered at the thought that — of all people, and of all the girls he most likely knew — you were the first person Heeseung came to for help. You definitely didn’t want to mess this up.

“It depends, though. Everyone is different,” you replied.

There was a slight pause on the other side of the line, and you were scared that you had disappointed Heeseung. But instead, he simply hummed, and made an ‘ah’ sound out of realisation. “Then why don’t you tell me what flowers you like?” he suggested. “If I got you a bouquet, what would you want in it?”

You scolded yourself for immediately picturing Heeseung in a suit, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers as he gave you that same warm smile that he always did. Shaking your head, you immediately started to name the ones that you preferred.

You didn’t think the information you gave him would end up being used like this. With a wide grin, you accepted the flowers, your eyes sparkling like the night sky as you looked at the boy in front of you — not in a suit, like you had imagined, but handsome all the same. He always was, after all.

“Thank you, Hee,” you said, full of genuine gratitude.

He smiled at you. “Anything for you,” he said.

And now, you knew he meant it.

THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW LEE HEESEUNG ANGRY, you didn’t even know he was capable of it.

You had always been used to a warm Heeseung. The Heeseung who teased you with smirks, and simultaneously doted on you with kind smiles. But you didn’t realise that he had a side to him that was fierce, just as he was gentle. That even his blood was capable of boiling if someone pushed him far enough.

Having graduated from high school, and awaiting news from college applications, you spent your free time working part-time at a local convenience store, which happened to be fairly close to the music store Heeseung worked at. You worked day shifts, so you never worried for your safety. But one particular day, you got unlucky.

“How’s work going?” Heeseung had asked through your AirPods. He was on break, while you were simply waiting for customers to show up. At this time, you guys usually had phone calls to pass the time, and you would stack shelves with your earphones in, listening to Heeseung’s voice as he talked about his day and you told him about yours. It was one of the things you liked most about working at the convenience store — apart from the endless supply of nearly expired snacks you were allowed to eat for free.

“It’s going okay,” you replied. “Really empty, though.”

You weren’t surprised. Since it was winter, most people opted to stay inside to keep away from the cold. At most, you would have the nine-to-five workers who popped in from the office buildings across the convenience store during lunch hours. But it was already going on to four in the afternoon, so the buzz had already long died down by now.

At that moment, the door opened to signal the arrival of another customer. “Welcome,” you greeted politely, going over to the counter to get out of the way and wait for the customer to make a purchase. Heeseung didn’t say anything, allowing you to focus on your job. And it was then that you realised something was wrong.

The customer who had just walked in was stumbling over their own feet, an empty soju bottle in one hand, the other wiping his mouth after taking a swig. He was an average-looking man, middle-aged, with beady eyes and a strong stench of alcohol surrounding him. You subconsciously moved closer to the emergency button when he stumbled into one of the shelves, cursing loudly when a bunch of items fell to the floor with a clatter.

Heeseung, of course, had heard this, and instantly questioned you.

“Little Park,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tense. “What was that?”

You blinked, watching as the customer aggressively ripped a few soju bottles from the fridge, causing others to fall on the floor. The sound of shattering glass immediately followed, and you flinched. “Sir,” you called out shakily, scared that you might set him off. “If you break items, you have to pay for it.”

“Fucking hell, just shut up already!” You flinched at the customer’s raised voice. You thought you were overreacting, so you didn’t alarm Heeseung when his voice once again rang in your ear.

“I’m being serious right now,” Heeseung said. “Are you okay?”No, went unsaid. But you didn’t need to say it, because there was already a loud shuffling on the other side of the line, followed by the sound of a door being swung open. Heeseung didn’t even let you protest as you heard the sound of him running down the concrete pathway. “I’m on my way, just stay on call.”

“Huh?” You glanced at the time on your watch. His break would finish in five minutes, he really didn’t have time to be running out on your account. “But your break—!”

“Hey.” You froze upon being addressed by the man, who had suddenly appeared in front of you. And even if there was a protective screen in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel threatening as he glared at you, aggressively placing his bottles on the counter. “Who are you talking to?”

You furrowed your brows. Why was it any of his business? “Are these all you’re buying?” You asked, ignoring his question and gesturing the the alcohol bottle. You then looked at the mess he made near the fridge. Since you weren’t going to risk stepping outside the booth, where he would be able to reach you, you did your best to assess the damage from where you stood. “I see three broken bottles, so that will be added to your total.”

You reached out cautiously to grab the bottles on the counter for scanning, wanting him out of the store as soon as possible. But just as you tried to grab them, you let out a scream when the man suddenly grabbed your arm, holding your wrist like a viper trying to cut off circulation.

“You little bitch!” he cursed. “You tried calling the police, didn’t you? Just like that woman!”

“Help!” You ignored the man’s rambling. But that seemed to only make things worse. He lunged at the screen between the two of you, nails reaching for your face. You let out another scream, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried in vain to free your hand. You somehow had the sense to press the merges services button under the counter, but who knew when they would get here. “Help! Is anyone there?!”

At that moment, as if the world had answered your prayers, the door to the convince store opened. And there stood Heeseung, chest heaving, his phone clutched in his hand. Upon seeing the sight in front of him, his eyes flashed with rage beyond words, his phone falling to the floor as he marched up to the man holding your wrist captive.

He grabbed the back of his collar before ripping his form away from the counter with strength you didn’t he possessed. You watched with wide eyes as Heeseung threw him to the ground, straddling him before throwing an unforgiving fist to the man’s face. The sound of flesh and cracking bones rang out as Heeseung levelled the man relentlessly in silent rampage, not once letting a single curse slip.

You watched as Heeseung’s knuckles became bloodied, busted and bruised. And seeing him like that, you finally snapped out of your frightened daze.

“Hee!” You yelled, scrambling from behind the counter. As if you placed a spell on him, Heeseung immediately stopped, his fist pausing mid-punch. You immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, tears flooding your vision as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. “Hee, stop!”

You didn’t care for the man who tried to attack you. But you could never forgive yourself if Heeseung got into trouble because of you.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m okay…”

Heeseung let his fist fall to his side, and he sighed as he looked at the unconscious man beneath him, whose face was beaten beyond recognition. By the time the police arrived at the scene, the only thing they found was the man on the floor of the convenience store, while you and Heeseung stood to the side, the latter hold you in his arms as he stroked your head and whispered gentle words into your ears.

“It’s okay,” he said, his lips against the shell of your ear as your body trembled from the shock of the events that just unfolded. He closed his eyes, burying his nose into your hair while you sobbed into his shoulder. “I won’t let anyone hurt you…”

That day, you realised just how unforgiving Heesung was. And yet, as he held you in his arms, you felt nothing but comfort. Even then — especially then — he was warm, gentle. He was safe.

“That bastard got lucky,” Jeongseong said as he picked you and Heeseung up front the police station, where you were required to give your own statements of what happened. Your older brother gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. As soon as he heard the news of what happened, he was ready to send the person responsible for the bruise on your wrist to an early grave. And if it weren’t for the police present, holding him back when he stormed into the station, you were sure he would have. “If Heeseung hadn’t gotten to him first… I would have seriously killed him.”

Heeseung reached over from the backseat to pat your head as you zoned out in the passenger seat. You rubbed your arms for warmth, and the scent of Heeseung’s hoodie on your figure caused you to drift off to sleep while your brother ranted his frustration in the driver’s seat beside you.

And you just prayed for anyone else who ever raised a hand against you in the future. Because you knew you weren’t leaving Heeseung’s side any time soon.

THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED LEE HEESEUNG, it was just a few months later.

It was your first day of college, and you had been nervous as you moved into your new accommodation on campus. Your parents were even more so, and you had a tearful goodbye. But as soon as they left, your brother and Heeseung — who coincidentally went to the same institution that you would now attend — stayed behind to help you move your furniture in.

“That’s all of it,” Heeseung said as he dusted off his hands. He smiled at you, before wiping sweat from his forehead. And you shamelessly watched the way his skin shone under the sunlight filtering through your window. “You’re good to go, Little Park.”

You smiled. Although he didn’t seem too different, you could tell you had somehow gotten closer to him after the convenience store incident. And ever since then, his presence had always been a source of security for you. You didn’t worry when he was around.

“Remember what I said, okay?” Jay asked. He was in typical overprotective brother mode as he lectured you on what you could or couldn’t do, and it gave you flashbacks to your first day of middle schools, where he had threatened off a little boy for gifting you a flower. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be getting into any fights this time around — but who knew? He had an unpredictable temper at times. “Be careful of boys!” Jeongseong warned passionately. “You can’t trust any of them, no matter how nice they look?”

You raised a brow. “But what about you and Hee?”

Jeongseong waved a dismissive hand. “Obviously, I’m your brother, so I don’t count. And Hee basically sees you as his little sister with how long he’s known you, so he doesn’t count, either.”

You froze. And all of a sudden, it was like a cloud of doom gathered over your head, threatening to drench you in your own self-pity. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest crush on him — and you had been trying to delude yourself into thinking he might feel the same one day.

But when Jeongseong raised a point, it was often a very good one. Heeseung had essentially spent two years in and out of your home, making it a second home of his own, and was as close as brothers with Jeongseong. He was a ‘safe’ man in Jeongseong’s eyes — because the way your brother saw it, there was no way Heeseung could hold any romantic feelings for you.

And you hated to admit that he might be right.

You glanced hesitantly over at Heeseung to find that he had a clenched jaw, his posture tense as he stared straight forward. You bit your lip, lowering your head. Now that you thought about it… Everything he did for you— was that just an act of brotherly affection? Did he really not see you as anything else?

“Anyway, we should head off,” Jeongseong said. “Have fun, and don’t forget to call if you need anything!”

With that, Jeongseong turned and opened your door, ready to leave. But at that moment, he noticed Heeseung was still standing where he was — unmoving. “Hey, man,” Jeongseong called out to him, “you okay there?”

You looked at him curiously, wondering the same thing. As if snapping out of a trance, Heeseung shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He turned to follow Jeongseong out the door, but paused for a moment to look at you. You spared a small smile, hoping to give off some semblance of normalcy. But to your disappointment, he simply averted your gaze and turned away.

He left without looking back, leaving you wondering what you had done wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You looked at your friend, who you had met on Orientation Day, and who you hit it off with immediately. Kim Sunoo was the same age as you and coincidentally from the same degree. So, the two of you quickly stuck together like glue. “You seemed out of it since we met up.”

You quickly shook your head, not wanting to bring down the mood. Even though Sunoo knew about your feelings for Heeseung (you couldn’t resist telling him, when he seemed invested in your story), you didn’t really want to think about his strange behaviour. This was a day out for the two of you to enjoy. Remembering this, you smiled. “It’s nothing!” you assured. “Just missing home.”

Sunoo, thankfully, bought the lie (mostly because it was actually true), nodding sympathetically. “I get it. I miss my family a lot, even if it’s only been a day.” After a moment, he then made a noise like he remembered something. “By the way— if you’re not too tired, there’s a party at the dorms tonight. Some seniors that I know are holding it for us first years. Wanna come?”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” You hadn’t been invited to parties much in high school, because everyone knew you were related to Park “Overprotective” Jeongseong. Besides, your parents would have never allowed it. But now, you were slowly realising how much freedom you had as an adult. Just once, you felt like experiencing this part of your youth you never got to taste. “Sure.”

Hopefully, if nothing else, the party would be a nice distraction…

“You know Lee Heeseung?”

Or not.

Upon arriving at the venue where the supposed party was being held (which happened to be in the common rooms, meaning a relatively short walk), Sunoo had immediately dragged you over to a group of older girls, who were all either second or third years. You chatted with them awkwardly until they brought up the name all too familiar with you, fawning over his good looks. And Sunoo, who sensed the sudden spark of jealousy in your eyes, had been quick to subtly stake your claim on him.

Not that he needed to, considering Heeseung wasn’t yours…

“He’s my brother’s best friend,” you explained. Though you wished you kept your mouth shut, after seeing the glint of excitement in the senior’s eye. “Why?”

One of the other seniors grasped your hands. “Then do you think you can introduce me to him? He’s totally my type!”

You frowned.

“Oh, I forgot I was supposed to meet with some other friends,” Sunoo suddenly said. He then turned to you, grabbing your wrist out of the senior’s hands. “Come on, [_____]. They said they wanted to meet you, too.” With one last half-assed apology, Sunoo dragged you away from the seniors. He glanced at you, frowning at your vacant expression. “Sorry about them.”

You shook your head. “No. It’s okay…”

You supposed you should have seen this coming. Who wouldn’t want to be close to Lee Heeseung? It was only natural. But deep inside, you couldn’t help but wonder, if there was someone — someone like those pretty seniors you were with — who Heeseung wanted to be close to. After all, you knew he was single, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t taken. So who? Who was it?

“Little Park?”

You immediately froze in your tracks, causing Sunoo to pause right beside you. That nickname… Only one person ever used it. And there was no mistaking that voice. You immediately turned around, as your body was driven by some subconscious reaction to respond to him. Your eyes widened when you met gazes with Heeseung.

And he did not seem happy.

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes landed on Sunoo’s hand on your wrist. His hand clenched in a fist by his side, and his jaw was clenched. He was as gorgeous as always, with his silver hair shining under the dim lighting of the common room, creating a nice contrast with the black shirt that clung to his form, moulding itself perfectly over his muscles. But the thing you noticed first was not the glare in his eyes, or his beauty.

It was the busted lip he was sporting, and the purple bruise on his cheek.

Your eyes widened, a gasp slipping past your lips. You didn’t know when Sunoo had dropped your wrist, but you didn’t care in that moment. You immediately ran to Heeseung, eyes trained on the injuries on his face. “Hee!” you gasped out, raising your hand to his face, your fingers hovering over his injury. “What happened to you? Your face…”

Heeseung looked down at you, sparing a weak smile, all his precious displeasure fading from his face. “Don’t worry.” He lifted his hand to grab your own, eyes holding the same light it always did when he spoke to you. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” You said. And it was probably the first time you ever raised your voice against him. But he simply grinned even wider, despite the pain he must feel from the cut on his lip. “Come on, we’re going to get your wound treated!” You turned around, facing Sunoo who was watching the two of you with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, but we have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Sunoo barely got to say goodbye before you were bounding up the stairs. You pulled Heeseung behind you and he followed you like a lost puppy as you navigated your way up the stairs, towards your room at the end of the hallways. You threw the door open, making Heeseung sit on the bed as you looked around at your unpacked boxes.

“Where did I put my First Aid Kit?”

You went to reach for one of the boxes, only to be stopped by Heeseung’s hands on your own. “Hold up, Hee,” you said absently, not looking at his face. “Let me just—”

“[____].”

You froze at the sound of Heeseung’s voice calling you by name — your actual name. Not ‘Little Park’, the name that ensured he only looked at you as an extension of his friendship with your brother, but your name. Just you. You slowly turned around, wonderstruck at how the sound of your name on his tongue was both unfamiliar but right.

Heeseung smiled at you, and you thought at that moment that the look in his eyes tonight were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. “Just stop for a moment, okay?”

Before you could say another word, Heeseung was pulling you towards him, so that you were standing between his legs. Your eyes widened, and your breath hitched in your throat. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you, eyelids hooded as his chocolate orbs stared into yours, looking as if he was trapped in some daze. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at the bruise on your cheek.

“But your wounds,” you whispered, worry causing your lips to tug downwards in a frown, despite the way your soul sang at your proximity.

“I deserve them,” Heeseung whispered in return. “If I were Jay, I would beat me up, too.”

You froze, your blood going ice cold. “My brother did this to you?”

Your brother — Heeseung’s best friend — Jeongseong was the one responsible for the injuries on Heeseung’s face? Just what had happened in the few hours that you didn’t see the two of them? What was severe enough to warrant punches between all-but-blood brothers?

“I let him,” Heeseung said. “I said something I knew would piss him off, and gave him a free shot at me.” Heeseung laughed, as if recalling some fond memory. “He always did like bargain deals…”

You stared at Heeseung, dumbfounded. “What did you say to my brother that was bad enough to earn you this?”

Heeseung stared at you in silence. You stared back. The room was filled with a heavy tension as Heeseung’s eyes flickered down to your parted lips, his fingers curling into your waist. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes wandered up to yours.

“I told him that I liked his sister.”

You gasped silently, your eyes widening comically at Heeseung’s words. What did you even say to them? It was funny how you had been chasing after him for so long, and yet never imagined what might happen given the possibility that Lee Heeseung would feel the same way for you. And now that it was happening, you were helpless to react, your throat closing up and swallowing your words.

Then you remembered his strange reaction to Jeongseong’s words this morning, and if all made sense. “So this morning… You weren’t mad at me?

Heeseung smiled seeing your reaction. “I could never be mad at you,” he said, thumbs caressing your sides. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way… I was more frustrated with myself.” You gave him a questioning look. “I just knew I couldn’t keep hiding from the truth any longer: Your brother is smart, but he was wrong this time. He said I didn’t like you — but I do. I have for a while now.”

You didn’t even know what to say. If this was even real, or if you would wake up in your bed any second now with a hangover and the taste of vomit on your tongue. But all you knew right then and there was that you didn’t care if this was a dream or not. All you could think about was the you from two years ago, who had fallen for this man for the first time because she had looked into his eyes just like you were doing now.

“And what did my brother say after he punched you?” you asked breathlessly, your heart wrenching now that you knew just exactly why Heeseung was in the state he was.

Heeseung gave you that smile of his. The same one from when you meet. The same one you fell for. The same one you dreamt about every day since.

“He made me promise to love you like my life depended on it,” Heeseung replied. “And that’s exactly what I did.”

You don’t know who moved first. But within a split second, your lips met Heeseung, and a sharp hiss was ripped from his throat from the pressure on the cut on his lips. But before you could even think about pulling away, his hand found the nape of your neck, melding your lips further into his own.

Heeseung stole your kisses like it was breathing in air. You let him take them the same way he took your heart.

“I like you,” you whispered as you pulled away from him. “I like you so much.”

When the two of you fully parted form each other, you looked into Heeseung’s eyes to see an unfamiliar fire in them. “Before I ask you to be mine, I just have one question.” Heeseung smirked coolly as you swallowed nervously under his gaze. “About the guy you were with earlier…”

You blinked, surprised. “Sunoo? What about him?”

“You’re not a thing, are you?”

You raised your eyebrows, taking in Heeseung’s expression. The green in his eyes, and the distaste in his tone. You burst out into laughter upon seeing his jealousy shine through for the first time since meeting him, a warm feeling settling over your chest.

“I’m flattered you think every man I come across is interested in me…” you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

Heeseung smiled softly, a distant memory of the past flashing through his mind. “Not anymore,” he claimed, before his lips found yours again.

You smiled into the kiss, too starstruck to do anything else.

All of a sudden, it was like you were seventeen again, and he was nineteen, playing guitar in your brother’s room. And just like then, you knew, your world was never going to be the same. With Lee Heeseung by your side, it could only be better.

✉️ PS 노트 ! this fic inspired by the drama ‘hidden love’ and the novel ‘secretly, secretly, but unable to hide it’. the pretty dividers with the bows are by @/v6que, but the header was made by me!

LOVE THIS SONMUCH

MY (ACCIDENTAL) DEMON ROOMMATE

PAIRING: demon!Sunghoon x human!fem!reader

SUNMARY: Sunghoon wasn’t expecting to be sent to the mortal world by his “father”, much less being forced into attending college (he’s a demon! why would he need to?!) and being accidentally summoned by a clueless human almost had him marching straight into Hell to have a word with its ruler. Only he couldn’t, because he was already bound to you by a fucking paper-cut sealing your contract which means he can’t just leave the mortal world without taking something of yours in return.

IMPORTANT NOTE: please do read everything on here thoroughly!

GENRE: college au, social media au with occasional written parts, modern supernatural (?) au, “and they were roommates”, horror themes (but not really?), slice of life, mystery, thriller, light angst, fluff, humor and crack (you know the drill 🤣)

WARNINGS: y/n has little to no verbal filter (she’s kinda crazy... and dumb), Sunghoon is tired despite not needing sleep, swearing, dirty/inappropriate jokes (you have y/n to blame mostly), light sacrilege, light blasphemy (idk what to say except this is a smau abt demons) if you wish to proceed, read at your own discretion. I’ve laid out what you’re going to expect already.

FEATURING: ENHYPEN, Aespa's Karina, IVE's Wonyoung, TXT's Yeonjun and Soobin and brief appearances of other idols.

STATUS: completed

START: JAN 02, 2022

END: APRIL 11, 2022

TAGS USED: #asks.demon.roomie👹 #demon.roomie.things👹 (in case you want to filter them so I wont clog your dashes <3)

A/N:this is for all the monster fuckers out there!! /hj there will be some world-building in this and i hope there is as just as much plot like before 🤩 keep in mind this is all fictional and none of this represents the idols in real life. Also any info about the occult/supernatural may not be accurate and some elements here are my own interpretations and/or twists hehe.

PROFILES 1 | PROFILES 2

PROLOGUE: and so it begins

PART I: vore?

PART II: nefarious plans

PART III: a full essay? in these trying times?

PART IV: RONALD MCDONALD???

PART V: dumb b*tch allegations

PART VI: so mote it be (written)

PART VII: oh sweet Hecate

PART VIII: SOOBIN ENOUGH

PART IX: look at us

PART X: hoonie my roomie (written)

PART XI: foul creature

PART XII: demon fact(s)!

PART XIII: Kaneki Ken

PART XIV: brocolli kid

PART XV: S.S

PART XVI: not a serial killer

PART XVII: fucking goldfish

PART XVIII: bronies look away

PART XIX: brittle bones

PART XX: Furries.

PART XXI: demon ROOMIE fact(s)!

PART XXII: scooby dooby doo!

PART XXIII: human sacrifice 🙌🏼

PART XXIV: tamed that what?

PART XXV: lesbian lesbianer lesbianest

PART XXVI: fond

PART XXVII: manners maketh man

PART XXVIII: a furry gathering

PART XXIX: Operation S.O.S

PART XXX: see you in the dark night (written)

PART XXXI: and the truth comes spilling out (written)

PART XXXII: blessed or cursed? (written)

PART XXXIII: balls

PART XXXIV: bad daddy behavior

PART XXXV: let me in… LET ME IN!

PART XXXVI: please wrap it up

PART XXXVII: you’re so beautiful (written)

PART XXXVIII: don’t mince the cojones

PART XXXIX: MILFS?

PART XL: Monster Mash

PART XLI: summer what?

PART XLII: Y/N gone wild (not clickbait)

PART XLIII: tumblrina

PART XLIV: Sunghoon’s slow descent to madness

PART XLV: the girls are fighting

PART XLVI: arts and crafts

PART XLVII: something smells 🤥

PART XLVIII: mother (fucker)

PART XLIX: four of crows 🦅

PART L: i found the devil; i found him in a lover (written)

PART LI: mortal peril

PART LII: the twilightifaction of ynhoon

PART LIII: humanoid cephalopod

PART LIV: me & sunoo when

PART LV: i’m srs.

PART LVI: babe wake up!

PART LVII: girl is a gun (written)

PART LVIII: because you’re mine, i walk the line (written)

PART LIX: and when I opened my eyes (written)

PART LX: hold me down forever (written)

PART LXI: vacuum arc

FINAL PART: forever?

️ ❤️ Happy Birthday JUNGWON ❤️

୨ৎ — With Love, Sunghoon

pairing: non-idol!sunghoon x fem-reader

synopsis: Almost is sometimes never enough, Sunghoon needed a tutor and Y/N needed the extra credit. What happens when two failed lovers meet again after years of running away and misunderstandings?

w/c: 23.3K :o

tags: teacher x teacher, first love, baby baby (?) angst, sunghoon kinda a dick, then he turns into a loser LOL, lots of gussy gussy fluff at the end, niki and jungwon cameo as hoon’s gremlins. And yes hoon blonde obsession.

a/n: oh em gee, its been MONTHS. been so busy with irl stuff and other responsibilities I've neglected dazed-hee </3. BUT pls expect more content to come out soon because I am stressed and writing helps me destress HAHAHA. ending is not how I would like but I honestly did not want to scrap this fic and start a new ): this is little fic was supposed to be a present for my hoon girlie @hoonvrs AND IT STILL IS! i hope everyone enjoys and pls lml what you think! ALSO With Love Series going on mini break bc I have so so many ideas I want to write about I can't be limited to this series ASDAKJSD

likes & reblogs are encouraged thank you!!

“So class I’m happy to say you don’t have any homework this weekend.” You sighed, placing all the files you went through from the past hour on the side as the class cheered lightly,  some even clapping at the thought of a free weekend mixed with fun and more studying.. 

“But—” you interjected, biting back a small smile as some of them instantly stopped cheering; some even holding in groans while you pointed at the calendar on the wall. 

“Don’t be surprised if you walk into class Monday with a quiz on your desk about cell biology and functions.” You hastily announced, a slight grin on your face finally hearing the groans and complaints travel through the room, quickly turning around you began cleaning the whiteboard while bidding goodbye to your students. 

“Hey be happy it wasn’t a real pop quiz— and I told you what unit it’s going to be about!” You reasoned out loud in the hall, smiling at some of the girls in your class who argued it was guys in the back doing most of the complaining. Compared to the other teachers you felt like you were quite lenient with the students, making class and learning as interactive and fun as possible. Being one of the youngest teachers you made it your job to sympathize with the students since you were in their position not that long ago. 

“Ah wait–” You called out, grabbing onto two sneaky individuals hiding behind the girls on the way out. 

“I need you two to stay back for an hour of tutoring starting next week. If you don’t you won’t have a passing grade for eligibility.” You warned. 

“Ms.Kim please our coach moved practice to after school hours and he’s been really strict about being there.” the boy plead, his eyes glistening brightly looking down at you. 

“Well Jungwon maybe we shouldn’t have failed the last unit exam and for you Niki— start doing corrections you’ll earn half your points back.” You nodded toward the other who was sulking softly. You knew the pressures and tight schedules student-athletes went through and you honestly felt bad, the two weren’t even doing terribly you just wanted to make sure they had leisure with their grades when it came to eligibility check. 

“What about I have a talk with your Coach and have him push back practice by an hour or something, I’m only doing this for the two of you; trust me I know what it feels like.” You sighed patting their shoulders as they nodded to your offer. Heading to the faculty room you were greeted by other teachers finishing up for the day, you weren’t sure who this new coach was but practice usually took place early mornings. Partly so it doesn’t run into afterschool activities and studying sessions but also because the weather was more favorable most of the time. 

“Ms.Kim, how are you today?” Your boss greeted you by the printer, greeting her back with a smile you saw the way some of the female coworkers were actively glancing out the window, chatting amongst each other with shy grins painting their lips. 

“I’m doing good Mrs.Go, just printing out a few practice sheets for tutoring starting soon.” 

The older lady nodded at you with a warm smile, when you first got the job a little over two years ago Ms.Go stepped up as the new principal from her vice position. You’ve always felt welcomed because of her and she always had nothing but good and encouraging things to say to and about you.

“I’m glad you’ve found your pacing with the students, I get nothing but compliments from them and their parents— keep up the good work.” she rubbed your shoulder softly bidding you goodbye. Shaking out a small sigh you stood tapping the table as the beeping of the machine printed what felt like endless amounts of pages.

“Oh my god he’s so good-looking.” 

“Did you see when he was running with the students earlier?”

“I heard he’s the new literature teacher who’s also coaching the basketball team.” 

Gathering your things you acknowledged your coworker's excited expressions; curiosity overtaking as you made your way to the window to see what all the fuss was about, all you could see were the student-athletes running back inside towards the gym. A flash of blonde catches your eye before forcing yourself to peel away knowing there were lots to do and students to expect soon.

Seeing a few students greet you on the way back to class had your shoulders high in pride at the familiar faces of kids you’ve tutored before. Many of them respected you as a teacher but also saw you as a friend— well most. 

“Ms.Kim!” turning at the group of boys your brow raised as a few of them offered to help carry the stack of papers you were gripping back to class, their shoulders bumping against each other to gain your attention which only prompted a short scoff under your breath. Being one of the younger teachers you also noticed the uncanny amount of attention you received from students, girls asking for advice about dating and what to look forward to in college while the boys were being— well boys.

“Coach is looking for you guys, something about wanting to run another lap.” cutting between them you were glad Jungwon showed up when he did, brows furrowed slightly at some of them murmuring lowly to each other. After everyone left the boy greeted you with a dimple, one you saw frequently in class from what you recalled.

“I talked to Coach and I don’t think he’s willing to push back practice.” You heard him sigh, placing the stack of paper he insisted to carry on your desk as you pushed your fingers into the back of your dress pants.

“Well I would love to talk to your Coach, he knows if you and Niki don’t qualify for eligibility you won’t be able to play till the next check, right?” Your voice confused with shock seeing the boy nod with a conflicted expression on his face. 

“Where’s Niki?” You asked softly sitting at your desk checking the time on your wristwatch knowing students were going to show up anytime soon. 

“He’s distracting Coach Park while I’m here.” 

“Well tell Coach Park, when he’s done with practice to come to my class.” You ordered him, filing some notes in the file cabinet before standing up heading to the lab stations. With a nod Jungwon left swiftly, his sneakers squeaking against the tile floor as you leaned against the table, appreciating the evening sun seeping through the tall windows lining the class walls with your eyes closed. 

A knock on your door pulled you from your thoughts realizing some of your students came for their quick tutoring session. “Alright, should we get started?” You greeted them, a feeling of sentiment washed over you. 

It was bittersweet in a way. 

“Ms.Kim we’re almost done with the worksheet!” 

“Okay once you’re done just leave it on my desk and you three are free to leave.” You nodded, going back to the rows of beakers and test tubes you were prepping for the planned lab on Monday. You’ve always loved science, being a biochemist double major in college, you’re practically a pro at handling bunsen burners and microscopes. You weren’t sure when you decided to be a teacher and to be completely fair, you’ve never thought to be one when asked about your future endeavors as a kid.

But maybe it was from the multiple classmates you’ve tutored as a side job and extra credit, you found you had a talent for working with others and teaching them what you’ve mastered best. The satisfaction of seeing others click with the information and concepts you present always made you proud, proud that they could grasp complex ideas, and proud that you were an influence and part of the reason why. Nostalgia overtook your thoughts recalling back about your college days, from friends to strangers and those in between. 

Brushing your fingers against the clear tubes absentmindedly, a bitter smile took your lips— almosts were never enough sometimes. It was nearing five in the evening and you were finishing the final touches to each station carefully, making sure all the lab equipment was properly placed for the students, by now the ones who came have left and you were here alone in your thoughts.

“I heard you wanted to speak with me about something?” You heard someone call from the door, slightly muffled as you were quickly packing up the mess you made from preparations into the table cabinets below. 

“Yeah actually, it’s about your afternoon practices—” You replied slightly vexed, none of the other coaches have changed their practice hours so you weren’t sure why the basketball team in particular did. 

“I won’t be able to change or push back practice since that’s the only time that works for us.” huffing out a sigh you quickly set the extra box of test tubes back into their protective cases in the lower cabinets. 

“Okay well, you know if your athletes don’t qualify for eligibility they won’t be able to play correct?” confused as to why you weren’t getting a response you stood up with a huff. Your eyes widened while your words jumbled to get out, realizing who the new coach was and who you were talking to. 

It’s been a while, years to be exact since you last had eyes on him. He was blonde now, and it fit him well; just as tall as you remember taking in the way he was leaning against the door frame with his hands shoved in track pants. His slightly raised shoulders and wide eyes told you he was just as surprised to see you, a stoic expression overtaking his shocked one when he straightened his posture. 

He was exactly the same as he was before, but so different. 

“Sunghoon?” his name became foreign to you over time, like a bitter fruit you bit into and wished to forget. A wave of emotions swirled across your face you were sure of it. His eyes flickered around the classroom and a small sigh could be heard through the thick tension that had formed between you two. 

“Looks like you’re doing well,” he mumbled jingling the keys in his pockets as he watched your frown deepen further. 

“I’m not changing practice times Y/N, don’t ask me again.” his voice was firm and cold, you saw the way his eyes flickered over you once more before turning to leave.

After your brief conversation with Sunghoon, he left you standing there questioning if what just happened— really happened. With both of your hands gripping the table behind you, the sound of him making his way through the hall confirmed that it was indeed Sunghoon.

Park Sunghoon whom you fell in love with in college, Park Sunghoon who also broke your heart as well. It was him. He was the new coach that is already causing trouble the same way he did back then in your mundane life.

“Alright and the enzymes only react during the active site, get it?” Tapping your pen against the desk you sighed out of relief seeing your classmate nod enthusiastically finally understanding the unit concepts from the past lectures. It was warm, with the University library lined with large windows you wouldn’t be able to get a good nap here without the bright sun bearing down on your back, that’s why people nap in the reserved study rooms instead.

“So if the enzymes are heated or enter a different pH environment what happens then?” You asked carefully— there was no hope for the kid but for extra credit, your professor offered you to tutor students. You could only hope a higher being blessed you with the ability to input knowledge into these empty vessels because fuck; how were people this bad at studying? 

“They become unnaturalized?” She answered unconfidently, eyes lighting up seeing how your head tilted giving her a slight sound of approval. It was wrong but at least it was close.

“Close, denatured,” closing the workbook you nodded slightly acknowledging this was a lot better than when you first began tutoring her. “Keep studying like this and you’ll be caught up before the final in no time.” You smiled softly as she quickly packed her things. 

Oh, the things you did for extra credit, from extra lab hours to volunteer research assignments you needed every single point you could gain to balance out the fact you had no extracurricular and social hours to back up your pretty GPA. 

“Thank you Y/N it feels so good to finally understand what’s going on in class.” she gratefully thanked you, gripping the extra workbooks you recommended to her enthusiastically. With a smile, you bid her goodbye before peering back down at your laptop to see what you had next— a meeting with your professor. 

“I must say the classmates you are tutoring have been improving quite a bit, slowly but surely.” Your professor said looking at his notes with a satisfied nod. It was true, it started with your friend Naeun who was failing before despite passing with flying colors now. You now tutored kids who weren’t even from your own lecture, some in different years even.

 “If there are any other students you need me to tutor I’ll be more than happy to take them during my free time.” You added quickly, rubbing your palms against your jeans to mask the shake in your leg from his peripheral. 

Before he could answer, a knock on the door caused you to turn as a rather tall boy came in with a guitar case in one hand and a packet of papers in the other. With his hair messily put together he looked like every other boy in your class, but the moment his eyes met yours you quickly shifted back into your seat; trying your best to avoid the heat running through your face. 

“Professor Lee I’m here to talk about my exam..” he announced demeaningly. You could only watch as the older male stood up, pulling the boy to sit beside you in the empty seat while you shifted looking at the grade on his recent exam. 

Yikes.

“Sunghoon this is Y/N she’s in your lecture and also one of my tutors.” you reluctantly nodded toward him in acknowledgment as he did the same. “She’s one of my best students and I’m asking her to tutor you in hopes it’ll bring your grade up so you can pass the class.” With wide eyes, you glanced at Sunghoon, a hand rubbing the nape of his neck assuming he was weighing out the options he didn’t really have. 

“And you know you need to pass the class to graduate Sunghoon, I advise you to do your best with Y/N or you’ll run into big trouble once finals come.” He sighed, gathering his things while glancing at the clock on the wall. While bidding the two of you goodbye, you faintly heard him whisper to the boy a small ‘be nice to her’ before the door closed shut. Picking up your bag you pulled your phone out looking at your rather busy calendar for an open spot in your schedule. 

“I’m free every Tuesday Wednesday and Friday in the late afternoon, just pick two days and let me know before next week. Or you could tell Professor Lee and he’ll relay the info to me.” you could only give him a shy smile despite him sitting there blinking at you. With an awkward nod, you gave him one last forced grin before making your way toward the door.

“Wait!” His sudden exclamation startled you slightly, a quizzical stare greeting him while your fingers were already grazing the cold door handle.

“Where are you going right now?” He briefly asked, adjusting the grip on his guitar case while stuffing his exam back into his backpack. 

“The library.”

“I’ll come with.” 

Your solo studying session today suddenly turned into a plus one, watching as your new friend pull his things from his bag, you failed to hold the slight snicker earning his curiosity. Shrugging at his raised brow, you opened your laptop pulling out a practice workbook with a smile.

“Could’ve fooled me with that study setup if you never told me you were failing Biology.” You nodded at his set of pencils and eraser neatly placed in front of him, his frown turning into a grin knowing you were right, unfortunately. 

“Listen I’m good at everything but science, it might be hard to imagine but I’m a TA for my English professor.” he boasted proudly, sitting up in his seat as you smiled humming in acknowledgment. 

“Oh and to answer your question from earlier, I’m able to do Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I just finished an important project so I should be available a lot more often now.” He politely added, taking in your gaze as you nodded slowly before turning back to your workbook. 

After an hour of studying you noticed Sunghoon was actually quite diligent, not getting distracted by his phone nor did he daze into space even you’d catch yourself doing at times. If this was your conclusion then you weren’t sure where his problem was that had him failing— terribly. 

“That’s wrong.” You softly stopped him, pointing at the question he’s been working on for the past couple of minutes after seeing the frustrated expression overtake his face promptly. 

“I’m not good with genetics, I get the whole structure and basic….stuff, but once it gets to this I get lost.” He admitted running his fingers through his hair. Peeling your gaze away from the mole beside his jaw you coughed before opening up your notes.

“From what I see you're making it way more difficult than it should be—” You started, pulling your chair beside his before sliding your tablet across the table with a holistic breakdown of the concepts you took notes on for the genetics unit. After a few minutes of explaining and correcting his question, you allowed him to scroll through your notes a little longer, grinning at the fascinated look in his eye as he complimented the way your notes looked. 

“I can send you the notes later if you like them that much.” You chuckled, scooting your chair back after feeling his elbow graze your own, a little too close you figured. Hearing no response your eyes naturally found his again realizing he was looking between you and the space now in between. Once he realized you were waiting for a response, he pushed your tablet toward you quickly, his pen tapping against the table softly with a nod.

“Please if you don’t mind, I don’t know how you have time to do them like that they’re really nice.” He complimented, checking his phone before handing it to you with the contacts app opened. “Well I don’t do much of anything else so I have a lot of time to spare.” You snickered. 

“Oh come on, nothing? Like nothing seriously?” He asked you again, holding back a wide grin noting your name displayed on the screen along with your number. “Why do I look like I do a lot of stuff?” You questioned, his nod surprising you somewhat. 

“Yeah I mean, our classmates always say how fun and nice you are to be around so I just assumed,” he explained truthfully, from what he’s heard, a lot of your classmates had nothing but good things to say to you. 

“I only go out with a few of my close friends from time to time but seeing that you pretty much—”  glancing at his duffle bag you assumed was for whatever club he was a part of and his guitar case beside it; you could tell he was a busy man. “ —you literally do everything, it could look like not much for you.” You smiled genuinely. 

“Well trust me when I say I rather have a few things to focus on over this,” he emphasized, nodding toward all his things, earning a wholehearted laugh from you quickly disagreeing. 

“Yeah? I really wish I could put myself out there like that, I’m tutoring to make up for the fact I don’t do anything else but study.” You shook your head, playing with the pen between your fingers with your gaze set on the sunlighy shining on the table.

“Well I wish I didn’t do all of–”

“Don’t lie.” You cut him off, turning towards him quickly causing the both of you to laugh softly, your lips turned into a grin as you forcefully peeled your gaze away from his dimple that caught your eye. Sunghoon could only admire you from the side, smugly grinning at how you’d get so shy from meeting his gaze while your fingers busied themselves playing with the pages from your notebook. 

He understood why all the guys on the team wanted you as their tutor, what was better than a pretty girl spending her evening with you in the library or cafe? Your cute flustered expression when he smiled at you or when he caught you smiling back, it all made sense to him. Sunghoon made a mental note to inform the others you weren’t looking for any more tutees, and he only hoped they will believe him.

When he was called into the professor's office he really thought it was the end for him, with graduation around the corner and a science class holding him back from sweet victory; nervousness was an understatement. Shitting his pants would’ve been a better way to describe the feeling pooling in his gut when he saw a big red 43 plastered on the recent unit exam. But when he saw your small confused face peering up at him he knew he lucked out this time. 

You were known to take kids who look like they don’t have a single thought behind their eyes and tutor them into high B passing students. He was sure anyone else tutoring him would’ve helped with an extra brain processing his mistakes, but he was glad it was you. 

Third week of tutoring and you noted Sunghoon worked hard— and worked harder when he knew there was a reward for his accomplishments. A coffee stop before class or a meal before practice, you kept your promise and rewarded him for the commitment you knew he put in. What started as a reward for his improving quiz grades turned into what you felt was a normalized occurrence.

‘Wanna grab a meal from the cafeteria? I’ll drop you off after.’

‘Let’s meet before class for a bit, I want to see you.’

‘Are you free later today? We should go watch that new movie you were talking about.’

He explained it was just the athlete in him addicted to the dopamine he got when he succeeded, specifically doing good in class; but you argued it was just a way for him to trick you to agree into doing things he wanted. Hell he didn’t even know how dopamine worked up until last week’s study session. 

“Sunghoon you can literally ask for anything else, I’ll even buy you dinner again just not this.” You sighed, holding up the singular ticket he presented you as his wish for earning a 90 on his exam; the highest he’s received yet. 

“Y/N you said I can ask for whatever I wanted.” he pointed out, tapping the back of your seat with his fingers watching you groan at the thought of attending this weekend. 

“This is seriously what you want?” watching his court nod your lips pressed in a tight line before sighing in defeat. A promise is a promise, and you were one to keep promises. 

“Fine just please study this well for the next exam coming up.” You didn’t earn a response, but the cheeky dimple and upturned brows told you that if studying well meant pulling you to do things like attending his game to support him— Sunghoon promised to turn into Einstien. He’ll be reborn as Issac Newton himself if that’s what it took. 

“Oh and—” turning back to him your eyes widened slightly feeling his fingers graze against your back, a simple action you still haven’t grown used to lately. “Sunghoon, no.” you refused shaking your head wholeheartedly, seeing him pull out a jersey from his duffle bag with a smirk on his face as he laughed to himself.

“You didn’t even let me explain.” He reasoned, eyes twinkling watching you continue to disagree, mumbling about how ridiculous this was since you already agreed to even go in the first place. 

“Y/N how weird would it be to show up and not show off who you’re supporting?” He hummed, pushing his jersey from last year over to your side. “Hoon I think people are gonna think it’s weird regardless.” You whispered, knowing the type of people he was around would already view it odd you came in the first place. Sunghoon was someone you thought you’d only admire from afar, his likable personality and seemingly good looks made a memorable first impression not only on you but apparently to every living— breathing eligible girl on campus.

The looks and whispers anyone with a working brain would dread were to be expected if you walked into that stadium with his jersey, you were already getting looks from simply walking with him to class. 

Sunghoon was just someone you weren’t supposed to mingle with, as crazy as it sounded; opposites weren’t supposed to attract. There were plenty of girls in his social circle you knew were interested in him— it just felt wrong, scary even that you and Sunghoon were this close. 

“Hey…don’t think like that,” He reassured you, brushing a few strands of hair away while you stared at him, admiring the pinches of electricity shifting across your cheek when his fingertips grazed against your skin. In the many weeks you and Sunghoon have hung out, you realized he was a lot different from what you assumed. 

He was sensitive; you concluded that when he received his first quiz two weeks after your first session. His grade wasn’t— what the two of you were aiming for, and it was evident in his expression how disappointed he was in himself. After your constant reassurance that learning was about process and progress; not instant results, you grew to appreciate his soft grin and high shoulders that were filled with confidence and motivation. 

But he was also very attentive, even on days you didn’t feel your best Sunghoon was always understanding without having to say anything. And you were grateful, you tend to hold back and push through with plans even when you didn’t feel in the best shape, especially for your tutees. Sunghoon didn’t jest around much on days he saw you weren’t responding how you usually did, and he still managed to find time to ask if you were okay. Cheering you up in ways that had your cheeks flushing and heart racing. 

It was like skinship came naturally for the two of you, what started off as friendly nudges and taps on the arm shifted to his hand casually drawing lines on your back, your fingers tracing the veins on his arm or your shoulders casually touching while sitting beside one another. Things just felt comfortable with him, you realized that the one day the two of you were at his apartment, the library was starting to become a distraction but looking back— you weren’t sure if his place was much better.

While working on genomes and thermodynamics the two of you often shared snacks with one another, however when your eyes caught his pink lips around your bottle of coke you realized then and there that you and Sunghoon were more than tutor and tutee, more than friends. He made that known when you felt the same pink lips press a kiss on your temples after bidding you goodbye, making sure you made it inside your condo before he left, a small pep in his step noted while catching one last glimpse at him.

“Just think about it, hm?” he nodded toward you, bottom lip pulled between his teeth watching you roll your eyes before stuffing the jersey in your bag, ushering him to continue studying much to his resistance. 

“So are you gonna wear his jersey?” your friend sang with a smirk ghosting her lips, watching you hastily fix your hair in the mirror that she quickly helped you with not that long ago, fixing the top you picked to avoid that exact question purposely. It was the day of his game and you were already running slightly (really) behind schedule from a last-minute tutoring session you were asked to do despite making sure to state this weekend— you were unavailable. 

The game started a couple of minutes ago and it would take almost thirty minutes for you to get to the arena.

“Do I look good?” You asked her nervously, palms clammy against your jeans realizing what you got yourself into. 

“You look cute babe, Sunghoon is gonna miss every three-pointer with you in the crowd.” She joked, yelping in response when a dry shampoo bottle was thrown her way. “Naeun I’m serious, people are already gonna look at me weird for being there— the least you can do is make sure nothing is stuck between my teeth.” You whined, checking yourself in the mirror again out of pure paranoia.

“Y/N the only reason why they’ll be looking at you is because the Y/N is there for Park Sunghoon, so go! You’re late already.”

“Your seat is in row 4, enjoy! Go Cougs!” Awkwardly grabbing the ticket you were greeted by rows and rows of students cheering for the ongoing game, it was almost halftime and the team was a little under fifteen points. Excusing yourself through the crowd— you realized where exactly Sunghoon’s extra ticket landed you. 

Maneuvering through, you did your best to ignore the glances from some of the girls you recognized, they were people who frequently hung around the team; people whose crowd you weren’t a part of. Gratefully you weren’t seated beside any of them but figured this was the guest section for the team, you saw both students and family seated in the area. 

“Oh? Are you here for Sunghoon hyung?” A voice pulled you from your observation, glancing down you noted a younger boy looking up at you; dressed in your school colors with a sticker decorating his rather full cheek— a slushy in one hand and a pretzel in the other. He was cute, his wide eyes waiting for your answer as you smiled at how adorable he looked. 

“What made it obvious?” You asked him in a whisper, giggling slightly when his eyes crinkled in a smile pointing back at you. 

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s sudden voice made you snap your gaze to the court, your eyes meeting his almost instantly. Breathing was human nature, a biological process of the body responding to your blood oxygen levels with an automatic retort that you’re born with instantly; yet somehow when you see Sunghoon every now and then, you forget how to breathe sometimes. 

The few strands of hair sticking against his temples distract you from his absolutely dazzling smile and shining eyes that grew in size making you smile shyly. Glancing down, you coughed awkwardly, feeling his jersey's smooth fabric against your fingers. Before heading out the door, the white jersey caught your eye and had you changing in the livingroom before leaving.

You were here for Sunghoon and you wanted him to feel like you were too, and by the deep dimple showcasing on his face, you knew you made the right decision. 

Raising your brow— you quirked your head towards the scoreboard, you didn’t need to say anything because Sunghoon knew exactly what you meant from your expression alone. 

‘You invited me to your game just to lose?’ snickering at the way drops of sweat shook from the tips of his hair, you scoffed watching his shoulders raise proudly when a few of his teammates noted your presence in the crowd. You were never one to be interested in sports, but after another quarter into the game; you were one of the many that were standing in your seat, watching the tick of the clock count down and the score narrow with each pass on the court. 

“Sunghoon..” You whispered, fingers clutching in anxiety noting the clock hitting the twenty-second mark, he needed to shoot a three-pointer for the team to finally take the lead and ultimately win the game. With his eyes darting across the court Sunghoon has never felt this much pressure in his whole entire life. The game was whatever, he had plenty more games to play and win, but the past few months have been hell for him. 

With graduation around the corner, he didn’t really have any more time to ‘play’ on the court, plans after graduation? No clue. Did he have enough credits to actually graduate? Another problem at a later time. Was the girl he’s been dying to ask out finally warming up to him? Well... 

Meeting you has been one of the best if not the best thing that has happened to him in a while, not only were you practically carrying him to the graduation finish line, you seemed to make even the unexpected— exciting, comforting even. Things just got more bearable for him since you’ve been around.

Even now with the whole fate of the game twirling between his fingers, he couldn’t help but smile knowing you were there in the crowd, there for him. The moment he saw you sitting in his jersey he knew these feelings weren’t just mere lingering feelings that come and go, what a plot twist you were. 

“Sunghoon!” Your voice always caught his attention, even now in a crowd of roaring support or those who wished for the opposite, it was like he could only hear you. He wasn’t sure what to expect when he first walked into the professor's office that one day, but he wouldn’t wish for it any other way. 

“Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball?!” Blinking at your unexpected exclamation his body automatically did what he did best, react in stressful situations— muscle memory from what he recalled you teaching him. With the sound of the ball rolling around the rim, Sunghoon could only let out a sigh of relief when the roar from the student section doubled, quadrupled even after the basketball bounced on the court after scoring the final basket. 

They fucking won.

Jumping from excitement you finally understood why people attend games in person, the experience was so different, exhilarating. It was like regardless of who you were, everyone was there cheering for the same thing, even the girls who were looking at you earlier were cheering with you, bright smiles filled with pride and joy despite how indifferent they were to you earlier. 

In the midst of the crowd, you made your way through the bodies of people making sure to say goodbye to the small boy who accompanied you during the game. You were grateful he made sure to explain the rules of the court— it only made things easier to catch on. Gasping in shock, you felt someone grab your wrist stopping you hastily, Sunghoon. 

“Congrats on winning Hoon!” You cheered, smiling widely as other students and teammates congratulated him with pats on the back and chants of victory. “It’s hard not to when someone yelling at me from the stands, ‘Sunghoon shoot the fucking ball!’ ” he mocked jokingly, his fingers finding the slim of your wrist after you brought your hands up to push his shoulder. With your eyes glued on each other, you couldn’t help but grin softly as you felt his fingers melt down your wrist and between your own. Even with the chaos around the two of you, with him, things felt like the way they should be.

A comfort you never felt with anyone else in midst of what used to be unfamiliarity. You found yourself following Sunghoon to the celebration after, your laughs filling the night sky as the two of you sat on the rooftop of the science building; looking over a lit-up field filled with Uni students drinking in victory. The cool breeze tickled your lashes as you took in the smell of flowers and plants that lined the railings and wooden pergola that was decorated with string lights. You’ve been here a few times for a couple of labs and projects, legs dangling over the side admiring the sound of distant music from the field afar.

“You take all girls you talk to here after your games?” rolling the bottle of beer between your palms, you raised a brow when he hesitated, his dark ones furrowed as a contemplating hum left his lips. Gapping you slid over slightly, mumbling in disbelief ignoring his chuckle promising he was just joking. 

“You might be like…the third?” He continued, scratching the nape of his neck watching your eyes double in size before you nodded to his honest answer. “So, who was it?” You asked nonchalantly. 

“To be honest I don’t think Sieun counts if she was my lab partner last semester, right?” he sighed, attempting to grab your hand only to be pushed away quickly. Sunghoon loved this part of you, trying your best to hide the relief in your eyes by shaking off the hand he purposely placed on your shoulder. It was cute, your slightly upset expression and groans accompanied by puffed-out cheeks, he loved it all. 

“Sieun?” You repeated, recognizing her as a classmate from your past Chemistry course. You didn’t notice but his eyes were trailing across your shoulders that rose absentmindedly from realization, taking the chance to move closer his lips bit back a smile— glad that your eyes were finally looking up at him. 

Turning away with a cough, you were able to catch yourself before falling right into his little charm, if it wasn’t Sieun there was still another girl who was here before you he hasn’t mentioned. It seemed stupid really, what were you expecting— someone like Sunghoon had girls waiting for him around the corner at every class, he was different from you. It was stupid for you to ask the question knowing you weren’t going to like the answer.

“I guess Professor Oh doesn’t count either— she was the one who lead us up here for the whole experiment and all.” he finally stated, with a sly smile his chuckle rang in your ear watching you realize he was messing with you the whole time. Much to your horror you were glad that was the truth.

With your legs swinging over the side, you flinched slightly when the breeze blew against your skin. It was pretty chilly that night and in a rush you forgot to grab the jacket you had laid out on the couch. The sound of Sunghoon shuffling pulled you back into the moment as you watched him shrug off his varsity jacket, placing it over your shoulders much to your dismay. 

Muttering a small ‘thanks’, you giggled when Sunghoon nudged your side with his elbow, making it annoyingly obvious he wasn’t going to move away anytime soon, you were used to this, his little antics that always had you smiling to the point the apples of your cheeks ached. “Thanks for coming today Y/N— I mean it really.” he softly muttered meeting your eyes that smiled back at him. 

“Of course, I came— I told you I keep promises.” You whispered back, your smiling fading slowly feeling his finger slowly grab onto yours.

“So if you promise to keep coming to my games…you will?” he challenged, gripping your hand softly as you nodded firmly. 

“And you promise we’ll keep studying together, even after the next exam?” 

“Only if you want to Hoon.”

“Then can you promise—” he paused; bringing your intertwined fingers up to his lips, the glint in his eye shining brighter than the string lights that could be mistaken as fireflies above you. It was a feeling you’ve never felt before, you wonder at times if meeting Sunghoon in these circumstances was a coincidence, maybe if you weren’t so different from him you wouldn’t think this was all a mistake. But in moments like this, when it was just the two of you in each other’s ambiance and warmth you hoped those mistakes only took you to the right place— with Sunghoon.

“Promise we’ll stay like this.” his words echoing as the two of you sat gazing at each other intently, his thumb rubbing circles around your skin as you nodded softly with a small smile. How strange was this you thought, sitting here with him felt like a dream— but you were wide awake. Feeling him lean in slightly; your fingers gripped his as the warmth of his sigh cascaded across your cheek, his bangs tickling your forehead feeling his nose brushed against yours softly. Inhaling softly you gasp when his lip touched yours ever so gently, his mole you’ve only glanced at when he wasn’t looking was staring right at you.

“Yo Sunghoon! You going to that party later this week?” A sudden voice surprised you from down below, pulling away quickly you chugged a gulp of beer eyeing the frat symbol on the jacket the boy was wearing. “Yeah, it’s Jay’s birthday, right? Think I promised a friend I was going.” he huffed out, slightly unamused from the disruption leaning on the side with one hand. 

“Hey Y/N…” the guy greeted, his smile hinting a teasing tone before walking away quickly back towards the field. “You should come this weekend it’ll be fun, promise?” You heard him whisper, his lip brushing the shell of your ear softly and you had no choice but to nod.

 And you truly wished you didn’t.

The weekend came in a blink of an eye and you found yourself surrounded by classmates you’ve seen around but never got the chance to mingle with. You would’ve never guessed you’d be asking Naeun for help picking an outfit for tonight but you found yourself not believing in a lot of things when it came to Sunghoon. 

“Waiting for me?” You heard someone say from behind, his familiar warmth spreading across your back as a smile made its way to your lips. “Sunghoon.” You whispered, turning to embrace him as you admired his styled-up hair and simple grin. 

All sense of insecurity washed away feeling him pull you in a hug, greeting his friends passing by with a bright smile as you held your drink over his shoulders; a red cup in one hand while the other patted him softly. You couldn’t help but laugh feeling him turn you in different directions to say hello to everyone greeting him. He was here with you, and he made sure to make that painfully obvious. 

Since that night on the rooftop, neither you nor Sunghoon addressed the almost kiss the two of you shared—embarrassment on your part and your gut, more like Naeun’s input, told you it was gonna happen tonight…something was. At this point, it’s been a few months since you and Sunghoon have grown close, and your feelings have grown over time and so have his affections around you. 

Sunghoon wasn’t afraid to make it known you were with him, whether it be holding your hand as the two of you walked on campus or stopping by classes to pick you up after lectures. He’s made a home in your apartment and you could only wonder where things would lead for the two of you if he just popped the question.

“Sunghoon the girl you showed up with just ran out.” You heard his friend whisper, his eyes suddenly darting around before pulling out his phone. You knew Sunghoon came with a friend, and you couldn’t help but worry as well seeing how panicked he was scrolling through his contacts. You’ve seen her around before, a music major— you guessed the two of them knew each other from a class or club. 

“Hey can you stay here and wait for me? I’ll make it quick I promise baby.” You heard him hastily whisper, leaving you standing there nodding absentmindedly as he made his way through the crowd. 

When twenty minutes turned into an hour, you found yourself sitting on the couch, checking your phone in hopes of seeing his name pop up asking where you were in the unfamiliar place. Your heart immediately jumped feeling the buzz of your notification ignoring the way the people around you were wondering why you were suddenly sitting alone, silently alone after socializing with others not that long ago. 

“Naeun?” You answered quietly, digging your fingers into the fabric of the couch as you tried to tune out the mix of music and voices you couldn’t seem to understand from around you. 

“I’m at the party waiting for Sunghoon but—” You flinched; yelping when someone jumped over you— laughing a hasty ‘sorry’. You reassured her you were fine but by the way your voice was trembling, she knew you were lying. 

Biting your lip you could hear her concern laced voice asking you again if you were okay. Naeun offered to come along but you assured her Sunghoon would take care of you, Sunghoon would be here for you, Sunghoon—-

“Hey you’re here with Park right?” an unfamiliar voice pulled you away from call, a faint ‘I’m on my way’ brushing past your ears. Nodding, your eyes widened in realization it was Sunghoon’s friend from earlier. Naeun had hung up long ago and despite ignoring the male trying to pull you into a conversation, your mind couldn’t help but drift wondering where Sunghoon disappeared off to.

“I’m honestly surprised Sunghoon kept you around for how long he did.” Snapping your attention back to the man, your furrowed brows were enough to tell him he finally piqued your interest. “Sunghoon left a while ago with some girl, she wasn’t the one who he showed up with but he seemed pretty happy to leave.” The male shrugged, your head shaking in disbelief taking another look at your phone still cleared of notifications. 

“No he said he was coming right back— he promised.” You argued softly, tensing when you felt him throw an arm over your shoulder before a red cup disrupted your view. 

You weren’t sure how many cups you’d had since then, the colored lights blurring together while your cheek was leaned against whoever the fuck was closest to you. Naeun was nowhere to be seen and you could feel the alcohol hitting your system harder than it ever had before. Sunghoon still wasn’t here, you didn’t want to believe he left you here for another girl— but with no text and no sign of him anywhere, maybe it was true. His friend from earlier seemed to have disappeared as well, your last memory of him was asking you to take another shot before someone else piqued his interest. 

“Y/N. Y/N stand up.” Shaking your head you threw your arm over the familiar girl who mumbled to whoever was next to you in annoyance. 

“Sunghoon—” 

“He’s not coming let’s go.” You heard her firmly say, dragging you carefully out of the house with your feet tripping over themselves down the stairs. Catching a brief view of the clock you realized it’s been four hours since Sunghoon said he’d be back. 

“Naeun let go he’s coming back!” 

“Y/N he’s not! I asked around while looking for you and they said he fucking left a while ago, he’s not coming so snap out of it.” she struggled to say, her teeth gritting together from dragging you to sit on the curbside watching the realization settle in your eyes he really did leave with someone else—when he promised. 

You were prepared for this, sort of, someone like Sunghoon was just never made to be with someone like you, it was too good to be true. 

You ready for this,or so you thought, the utter realization that maybe this was all fun and games for him until he got bored and moved onto the next. 

You expected this, though you wished for it to never happen, yet somehow it still hurt.

“He promised.” You whispered, a tear escaping down your cheek as Naeun stood there in pity, slowly engulfed in the cloud of grief overtaking your eyes and mind— and all she could do was hope the pain would go away, or so she promised, but since that night you weren’t too sure about promises anymore.

“Ms Kim!” 

“I’m so sorry, is everyone done with the quiz?” You asked while standing from your desk, smiling at the students who nodded in unison as you collected the sheets of paper passed to the front in stacks. You’ve had a rough weekend, on top of preparing for the upcoming faculty meeting you were still processing the reality that Sunghoon was indeed the new teacher in the literature department—and the new coach. With the bell ringing you dismissed everyone who seemed to be in high spirits after hearing that you weren’t assigning any homework for today. 

Sitting back down you hummed in acknowledgment seeing both Jungwon and Niki by your desk, the coffee you had earlier cold in your palms grinning at the both of them shifting in their place nervously. After your talk with Sunghoon last week, the boys told you he was adamant about practice hours— being that stubborn you didn’t expect anything less.

“So can I expect to see the two of you later for tutoring? Or am I going to stop by practice to pull the both of you out myself?” Arduously looking at the two boys, you knew the answer was the latter; by their tight smiles, they didn’t have much of a choice. 

You were hoping— slightly hoping Sunghoon had it in him to not be an asshole making you walk all the way to the gym where practice was being held, especially not in your stilettos. He’s always been this way, the first couple of days the two of you studied together you concluded he wasn’t much of a listener nor much of a compromiser.

And when it was time to start after school tutoring, you could only tap your heel as it’s been ten minutes since you were scheduled to start.

“Mother fucker.” You hushed under your breath, shooting up in your chair hastily, you did your best to ignore the looks from your students waiting for tutoring to start at their desks. With your heels clicking against the tiles you quickly found your way to the gym, the sound of whistles and basketballs bouncing against the gym floor echoed through the opened doors as you walked in. 

It was a familiar feeling, quite familiar noting Sunghoon from across the court with a clipboard in one hand and a whistle in the other. You weren’t sure what overcame you, but you found yourself bee-lining towards the blonde— his brow quirked up from your sudden appearance.

Switching practice times was something Sunghoon just— felt like doing, well not really. Seeing you here was one of the last cursed encounters he expected to face after the last time the two of you met eyes years ago. 

When your widened eyes greeted him that evening, something instantly sparked in him, nostalgia? He wasn’t sure if it was the good or bad kind yet— it felt surreal in a way. The one girl he wished he met sooner back in college was the science teacher at the new high school he was transferred to for the spring semester. 

You were different, so different from the last time he’d seen you. Your usual smile that warmed his heart back then was now replaced with an unfamiliar one, a tired gaze that seemed so distant from the ones that used to look up at him in affection. Your hair was longer than before and it was weird to see you dressed in business attire when he only remembered your casual ones. 

And then it hit him—it has been a while. 

He liked to believe things stayed how they were before, he hoped they did— and maybe they were.

“I told you to change practice hours, how are you a literature teacher who lacks comprehension skills?”

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he was wrong about something.

Practice was going well today, the students were finally back into a healthy energetic mindset after weeks of exams. He was aware of the eligibility rule and your request but seeing how tired most of them were, he knew it was important to let his athletes have that extra three hours of sleep. As a former student-athlete, Sunghoon knew how important it was for rest and recovery, he’ll do what he has to do to ensure his students got just that. 

“You said I lack comprehension skills?” he huffed amused, his eyes on your figure recovering from walking across campus, your face visibly flushed from being winded and irritated. 

“Ms.Kim this is a closed practice, does that mean you lack common courtesy to follow rules?” he argued back, roughly shoving the clipboard to the assistant without hesitation– earning a surprised grunt from the poor man.

You could practically feel your eye twitch watching the smug look overtake his features, enjoying the frustration seething from your eyes in real time. 

“Maybe don’t leave the gym doors open next time if it’s a closed practice, plus Coach Lee let me in.” You grinned phonily, your upturned smile dropping instantly pushing past him as your eyes scanned the court for Niki and Jungwon. Many of the students greeted you politely despite being in the midst of drills and training. Calling their names they immediately ran towards you, a conflicted expression painting their face as a whistle was blown directly behind you. 

Flinching you were greeted with a now annoyed Sunghoon eyeing the two boys behind you who were ready to leave with their things. 

“Move and I’m not going to repeat myself, Mr.Park.” You exhaled tremulously, your words not really reaching his ears after noticing exactly how close you were after turning to face him. 

“Don’t disrupt my practice again or I promise you’ll be dealing with a lot more than conflicting hours,” he whispered, his brows furrowing at the way your pupils wavered softly. You almost scoffed really, here you were face to face to Park Sunghoon after a long time.

You had every right and opportunity to confront him, yell at him even; asking why he left that night and why he never bothered to call or text after. The two of you after that party went back to how you were before— strangers.

Instead here you were merely inches away staring at the mole beside his nose you remember clearly. His minty breath fanned your lashes after the huffed out a sigh of disbelief. He could have ended up at any other high school, why did it have to be here? 

“I don’t think you’re someone who should be making promises Sunghoon.” You sneered in a whisper, his eyes widening slightly before dropping the silver whistle from his lips. Scoffing softly you called for the two to follow you and thankfully, they did. With your heels clicking against the court, you did your best to ignore the burning sensation spreading through your chest, nodding at the students bidding you goodbye with a smile. 

“I guess your talk with Coach didn’t go well the other day.”  You heard Jungwon whisper, a small chuckle to lighten the mood which you appreciated. “Let’s just say Coach Park and I know each other well.” opening the door to the class with a huff, you apologized to the other kids with a smile. 

“We can come every other day— if that’s okay,” Niki suggested, setting his bag on the floor taking a seat next to his teammate.

“Is he going to allow you to come every other day?” You asked with a raised brow,  seeing the both of them nod genuinely you heaved a sigh and smiled softly. And to your surprise, they did come every other day, you haven’t seen Sunghoon since then, and thankfully so. 

Making sure to ignore him in the faculty lounge during lunches— you even committed to coming early hours in the morning to print all your things just to avoid him in the storage units. It’s been exactly four days since your heated argument with him— Naeun saying it was fate when you mentioned it to her over the phone. 

“Fate my asshole.” you cursed, gripping your shoulder bag as you got off the terminal making your way to work. It was the day of the faculty meeting you’ve dreaded while preparing for— Ms.Go appointed you as the new head of the science department at the last meeting and not many people were too fond of that. Greeting your other colleagues your eyes trailed over those who were smiling while greeting you a hello. Some were your friends and seniors you looked up to while others were just those who respected you and your efforts for your job.

“Someone is sitting here—from my department.” Blinking at the women your gaze settled on her hand blocking the chair you were going to pull out to sit in. That was a lie, you knew it was. With good people also came the ones who weren’t that nice when the news dropped that you were appointed to the new position. Nodding an apology you couldn’t help but chew on your bottom noting the only other seat left unoccupied. 

Slowly setting your bag on the floor you pulled out all the paperwork needed for the meeting starting soon, ignoring the obvious stare on your right as you huffed out a sigh. Not able to ignore it any longer you gave the blonde a curt nod, brows furrowing as he didn’t acknowledge your greeting at all. 

“Oh? Y/N!” A familiar voice caused you to look up from your files, grinning at the familiar smile walking back to his seat with a cup of coffee. 

“Coach Lee!” You snickered softly, eyeing the extra cup of coffee he pushed towards you trying to ignore the looks from some of the older ladies down the table. Jeno was another Coach at the school for the soccer team who was also head of the math department. Being similar in age the two of you got along as assistants when you first started.

“Thank you..” giving him a soft whisper, you admired the swirls of creme floating on top of the expresso, a sigh escaping from you feeling the warmth spread between your fingers. After a couple of savoring sips, you paused as something—more like someone, was bothering you. You could only watch as Sunghoon glanced between you and the cup of coffee between your palms. His dark brows in a stern frown before scoffing and fixing his tie; it was the first time you had a good look at Sunghoon outside of his baggy sports attire after so long. 

His tall nose and pushed-up hair perfectly enhanced his face while the white dress shirt snugged nicely against his shoulders. He had grown into his features, that boyish charm now replaced with a cold stare and small frown. 

What was his problem? It wasn’t like you wanted to sit here in the first place, sneering slightly you took one last sip; purposefully glaring at him when your eye caught his gaze once again. 

“Are you ready for the presentation? I know it’s your first one since becoming the head of your department.” You heard Jeno ask you, nodding you smiled glancing at all the paperwork you were able to compress into a ten-fifteen-minute presentation.

“I’m not going to lie I had some trouble since there’s so much to talk about but— I think I did good.” You nodded, catching his smile as he pulled out his own set of notes. “Well, you ever need my help you can always ask me, you know my hours and my email.” With a thankful nod, your smile dropped hearing someone scoff beside you— a little too loudly you noted, glancing at the blonde with an irritated glint.

Before you could ask him what his problem was Ms. Go entered the room as everyone stood to greet her respectfully. As she caught your figure her smile widened in acknowledgment that you knew many people took note of, with everyone taking their seats you could feel your palms grow clammy as each department presented one by one. Jeno’s bright smile and convincing talk about changing the math curriculum passed quicker than you expected which meant one thing, it was your turn soon— next actually.

“Ms.Kim you’re up.”

Heaving out a shaky ‘yes’ your legs felt like jelly as you gathered all your notes, glancing at the other teachers in your department giving you an encouraging smile as you passed them walking to the front. The sound of your heels clicking against the floor seemed to be the only thing echoing in your thoughts as the gazes and judgmental stares seemed to have filled your vision making you visibly tense. It was true, there were many teachers here with way more years of experience and opinions but Ms.Go and the board choose you for a reason— that’s what you kept telling yourself. After a brief introduction, you noted Ms.Go’s intent gaze causing you to stutter slightly. 

“After working with the students and seeing the science program here, I have some changes that I believe would be beneficial.” Despite the scoffs heard from a few, you could feel the relief wash over you as Ms.Go nodded writing down some notes. “Looking at the curriculum a lot of the lesson plans are very outdated and don’t tend to the needs of the students now— I suggest we change our approach on what we expect from the kids. Things have changed in the new age which makes it only appropriate to change how we teach as well.” 

“And we trust the kids in your hands why?” Trying your best to hold back the frown leaking through your stiff smile you turned to Ms.Jung who was part of the literature and linguistics department, honesty you were expecting this type of question to come up somewhere in your presentation. However, when some of your other colleagues began dabbling in the conversation, you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the amount of unwanted opinions directed towards you and the other teachers in your department. 

“Why would I take your word when I’ve been doing this for as long you’ve been alive.” Ms.Jung scoffed– her face clearly satisfied by the mess she caused making you look down in embarrassment. 

“What type of meeting is this if no one listens to what is being presented.” The sudden silence was caused by Sunghoon’s slightly irritated tone, his brows in a deep frown while tapping his pen against the desk in a steady beat. 

“Who do you think you’re talking to young man? I heard you’re new here and that’s how you treat your seniors—”

“What kind of seniors treats their younger colleagues that way? Ms.Kim is obviously really passionate and good at her job if she’s the science department leader… I think she knows better than anyone here what to do with the students,” he interjected, observing the way Ms.Jung looked taken aback by his sudden comment, a smug look casting over his face.

“It’s true since Ms.Kim became one of the main teachers— our science sector has seen tremendous amounts of improvement in overall scores and individual performances.” Ms.Go added with a nod, a small genuine smile making its way to your face with a humble nod. 

“Working with Ms.Kim I trust her enough to listen— I hope everyone can as well.” Surprised, you gave Jeno a grateful grin before you continued your presentation, your eyes catching Sunghoon’s deepen frown making you look away confused every once in a while. He was the one who helped you in the first place so why did he look so upset? 

However, you were unaware that his frown wasn’t directed towards you— but instead to Jeno who added a comment earlier he considered unnecessary, very unnecessary. 

After the meeting ended you searched for Sunghoon who already made his way out of the faculty room. You wanted to thank him for deescalating the situation earlier but he never gave you a second glance the moment you sat down again beside him. Making your way through the crowd, your eye searched for the blonde male making his way down the hall before pausing at your voice calling for him. 

“Hey.” You huffed fixing the bag on your shoulder, awkwardly glancing down to his hand gripping his own bag beside him. The cold air blowing from the conditioner made you shiver, you didn’t realize but your voice came out a lot softer than you expected. “I just wanted to say thank you— for earlier you know.” You could only watch as Sunghoon stared down at you, his head nodding in acknowledgment before turning away slowly. 

“Wait!” You didn’t know what prompted you to grab his blazer, maybe it was the way you haven’t heard his voice in so long, but all you wanted was to savor this moment with him a little longer. 

“I’ll buy you a coffee, my treat.” the offer quickly slipping from your lips.

“This wasn’t what I was thinking.” You heard him scoff beside you, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed as you mixed coffee and some milk from the faculty vending machine. With a grin you shrugged your shoulders, ripping some sugar packets before whisking with a spoon, a drink that you often had going through hell and back since working here. 

“Well Coach Lee and I would whip this up for each other ever since the both of us started as assistants, it’s my treat so be grateful at least.” You mumbled, throwing away all the trash while admiring the way the coffee swirled from the momentum of your mixing. His expression still cold as he pulled his phone from his pocket ignoring your statement.

You didn’t know why but this was making you slightly annoyed— hurt even. The two of you were colleagues now and you were doing your best to extend an olive branch despite what happened in the past. The least he could do was— 

Your eyes widen slightly at an unfamiliar scent mixed with the bitterness of the coffee, lashes fluttering as you felt his arm brush your chest faintly. Grabbing the cup of coffee from your grasp, you could only watch as Sunghoon took a sip from the drink, his furrowed brows relaxing softly seeing you look up to him in a daze. 

“I didn’t say I wasn’t going to drink it— jeez.” Taking another long sip, your lips lifted slightly seeing him finish the drink in one go. 

“The coffee isn’t going to run away from you Mr. Park slow down.” You huffed, picking up your bag before making your way to the door; a slight warmth spreading throughout your chest hearing him call out your name as you didn’t bother turning back. 

Since then none of the other teachers have bothered you in and out of the faculty meetings, you weren’t sure if it was because of Sunghoon or the fact they’ve accepted your new position— but it was one less thing to worry about. And to your surprise since your little barista session, the two of you kept it respectful and greeted each other whether it be passing in the halls or coincidentally seeing each other in the storage room; it was better than acting like each other’s existence didn’t matter because deep down— you at least knew it did.

“Right, so you need to move all the pH variables to this side and—” While helping some of the kids, you were interrupted by the sound of your door opening hastily. Immediately fixing your posture, your eyes widened at the sight of Sunghoon standing at the doorway with Niki and Jungwon. His gaze looked around the room almost in embarrassment with his hands shoved in his track pants. It was the first time he was in your class after your first encounter at the start of the month.

“I forgot it was your day with the kids— here.” You heard him say, pushing the two who were still dressed in their athletic clothing as he huffed a cough from your soft greeting towards the both of them. 

“Well they’re doing really well recently so I wouldn’t have minded the two of them staying with you.” Pushing your hands into your back pockets, you stood next to Sunghoon after giving Jungwon a small pat on the back with a sigh. With the first big game against the rival school coming soon— you understood the need for practice on the court. 

“If I didn’t know what both of you were talking about I’d assume it was about co-parenting,” Niki mumbled throwing his bag on the floor after you failed to greet him the same way you did Jungwon. Hearing a few snickers from the other students you quickly denied his statement, blinking rapidly as you moved away from an equally flustered Sunghoon who was mentioning extra laps around the track if Niki didn’t get to work.

After a few minutes of settling everyone in their seats, you noted Sunghoon still by the door, “Are you not going to return to practice?” You asked him, watching his eyes flicker back to you after gazing into space again.

“Oh— my assistant has it covered, the boys are just doing a practice game so I don’t really need to be there.” He nodded ruffling his track pants quietly. With a nod you motioned for him to have a seat at the lab tables if he wished to. 

“Well you’re welcome to stay if you want to, I’m just going to go over a few topics before assigning practice worksheets.” You told him with a grin. Sunghoon obviously took the opportunity to stay as for the past couple of days; he purposely changed his route around campus to find more opportunities to run into you. 

It’s just been—- so long. Hearing your voice again somehow pulled him back into this warm serenity he’s been missing for years. Your soft laugh that rang like wedding bells in his ear resurfaced drowned out thoughts and emotions that kept him up during the night and distracted him during the day. Things didn’t end the way he wished—nor did they end the way he thought they would. 

He should’ve never asked you to go to that damn party, the two of you were fine before that whole hell hole. Sunghoon trusted you— trusted you when it came to tutoring him to his full potential and trusted you to be honest when it came to if his hair looked weird in the morning. But he never thought he had to question his trust when it came to your feelings towards him. 

One minute he left to go find a friend who was light years braver than him when it came to words of love and confession— and the next he came back to you with another person; another man. An acquaintance, one who never really had good things to say about him. To see you leaning against him with your face cradled into his neck sharing shots together, made his stomach drop.

Dread? Sorrow? Regret? 

What else was there to say, he hadn’t asked to you be his girlfriend officially yet since he was so scared. 

Of rejection? No. Commitment? No, so what was it?

There he was, standing in the midst of the party seeing you slip away from his fingers in what felt like seconds, and he never looked back. 

Pride? Prejudice? He was sure the english novel that was apart of his assignment at the time persuaded the labels listed but things seemed better off this way. He never reached out and you didn’t either— apart of him hoped you did, but seeing you pass him on campus reassured him that maybe he was expecting too much; and he did. 

Years later despite what happened, he couldn’t help but feel a part of him yearn for that fulfillment again. To feel your hands cradling his face, your voice warming him in love and solace. But he concluded since those days being someone who feels too deeply— is just too exhausting.

“Woah—” Sunghoon mumbled out of his daze, your hand slamming slightly on the lab table startled him as the students left one by one as it’s been almost an hour since tutoring started. “Tutoring is over, you can leave now Coach Park.” holding back a grin, you couldn’t help but snicker at his flustered expression, something you haven’t seen in a while. Sunghoon stood hastily— embarrassed as his two athletes were glancing at him with slight snickers.

“Hey! Be ready for practice tomorrow, on time or I’m adding two extra sets to each workout.” Despite Niki and Jungwon’s teasing gaze towards him as they left— ones you didn’t notice, Sunghoon couldn’t help but shift in place seeing you struggle to put all the chairs on top of the tables for evening cleaning. 

Moving to help you, the sound of the clock ticking and chairs scratching against the tile floor filled the unfamiliar silence that surrounded you btoh— unfamiliar in a way where for the first time in a while for you and him; the silence didn’t have to hurt anymore.

“Are you heading home soon?” You heard him ask beside you, glancing out the window with the sun setting in the distance; you let out a tired sigh with a nod. 

“Okay I’ll go grab my things and walk you to the lot, meet me in front.” Before you could deny his request he was already out your door in a blink. A small snicker escaped your lips as you swiftly went to gather your things, you weren’t sure what was going through that little mind of his at the moment, but a part of you was glad he wasn’t acting like the two of you were complete strangers. 

“Is your car this way?” you heard him ask, the two of you meeting outside your hall before walking to the front of the school.

“Uh— I’m actually taking the bus, my car is still in the dealer because the breaks were acting up last month.” running a hand through your hair you thanked him softly for walking you this far until you felt him grab ahold of your forearm. 

“Then I’ll just take you home it’s probably on the way—”

“No! I’ll probably stop by to get dinner, it’s fine really you don’t have to.” You reassured him, doing your best to pull away from his grasp that only tightened the more you resisted. 

“Then let’s just catch up.” His suggestion makes you pause in shock, “I should probably eat dinner too.” How could you say no, he was looking at you with those hopeful eyes again, a glint of excitement in them when you unconsciously nodded to his offer.

“Auntie can we have two bowls please!” you called out— greeting the workers you saw often at the local noodle shop with a smile sitting down across Sunghoon, you thanked the waiter who was placing drinks infront of the both of you. 

“You seem to come here often, is it that good?” His light-hearted comment caused you to chuckle as you passed him the utensils from the box. 

“Once you eat what I ordered you won’t question my taste again.” Slightly glaring at him your cheeks immediately lifted as his laugh filled the booth. 

“That’s what you said about that one pizza place on campus— I’m sure you remember the fish bones underneath the cheese.” he pointed out, his foot tapping yours slightly as your lips puckered at the memory of Sunghoon pulling out a few fish bones from his slice of pizza. 

It was one of your weekend dates where you offered to find a place for dinner, despite it being one of the worst meals you’ve had during college it was a sweet memory the two of you cherished.

“And there wasn’t even fish on the menu.” with your expression in a scrunch, a smile broke onto your face as Sunghoon’s dimple was full display, recalling the utter horror the both of you shared realizing the crunches on your pizza weren’t dried onions. 

“Okay this does look good…”Gawking at the bowl of hot noodles in front of him, Sunghoon couldn’t help but dig in as you nodded watching him sip the broth; savoring the taste and warmth of each spoonful. 

You and Sunghoon did have many cherishing moments together. Figured as time went by you could push down these memories and hopefully, they would fade away the same way your happiness did with each passing month. Maybe the storm brewing in your heart could wash away any traces of him you had left in your mind, but of course, those prayers went unanswered.

You hoped it was one of those instances where you missed the memories more than the person, but deep down you knew that wasn’t true. Just a mental coping mechanism to convince yourself the closure you never got wasn’t the one thing you needed to move on with what happened. 

Why? Self-depreciation perhaps, emotions do that to a person. Maybe it clicked that you simply refused to let go of the memories— feelings you felt when things were good till they weren’t as it was a reminder that what you had was a good thing that should’ve never ended. 

But maybe it needed to.

“You were right this place is pretty good.” He huffed a chuckle, watching your eyes travel back to your bowl as you scoffed slightly.

“Niki and Jungwon don’t have to come every other day anymore, they should be fine with eligibility just send them when you can.” You nodded finishing the last of your meal, Sunghoon sat watching you quietly as you hummed with each bite. You kept your habits over the years, fingers pushing your hair behind your ears ever so often to the way your eyes were unable to meet his when you spoke or caught his gaze by accident, it was all the same. 

“And I know I’ve said this already but seriously thank you—for speaking up during the meeting,” pausing your eyes met his as the soft music within the restaurant feathered your words of appreciation. 

“They haven’t bothered me since which takes so much stress off of me.” With a small laugh, you expected him to follow, but your expression falls short when you noted his contemplating eyes gazing down with a frown. 

With the two of you here in the moment, despite the cordial decency you wanted to keep, Sunghoon couldn’t help but wish to know the truth. In the few months it took for the two of you to grow close, there was always the unknown if you would be more than friends. After being accustomed to your minuscule characteristics and habits, something never truly settled right with him about what happened. 

You just weren’t that type of person.

If things never worked out between the both of you it would’ve been because a few reasons, but none of them being what he saw that night. Your slight aggression towards him now after the obvious change of attitude from that night told him maybe things weren’t the way it seemed.

“Stop thanking me, just take it as a very delayed thank you for helping me graduate.” He huffed out, making sure to keep the cordial atmosphere you tried so hard to create during work despite the curiosity brewing inside him. 

“Speaking of graduation, did you miss the ceremony? I don’t remember seeing you when I went for friends who were in the same major.” he finally spit out—his question obviously making you freeze, you weren’t expecting him to bring up anything from back then. 

But Sunghoon was always full of surprises.

“Uh— yeah I, actually attended an overseas internship so that required me to leave a few days before the ceremony.” Picking the vegetables in your bowl, you could practically feel his gaze burning holes into you. Sunghoon knew you were lying, but he wasn’t going to let you know that. 

“Are you sure it didn’t have anything to deal with what happened?” your jaw tensed as you set down the pair of chopsticks bringing your eyes to meet his. 

“And what exactly are you referring to Sunghoon?” voice tinted with anger taking in the solemn expression that suddenly overtook his face. 

“Are you recalling to the fact I was in between what I wanted to do with my major so I took an extra semester to graduate or the fact the both of us just— went back to pretending like we were strangers?” You didn’t know what snapped inside you, past anger and resentment like skeletons in a closet finally acknowledged for the first time; in a long time. 

“Strangers?” Sunghoon scoffed, trailing his eyes away from you to the empty booth beside you two in exasperation. “You think what happened was something that happened for the fuck of it? Is that all it was to you?” his tone cold looking back at you. 

Confusion? Indignation? You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly blossomed when your eyes met, but something made his eyes turn cold as the realization settled that you weren’t the only one hurting. Eyes that once looked at you with warmth and tenderness now looked at you in vexation. 

“You made a promise you couldn’t keep then left taking no responsibility like the coward you were.” slamming the money you found to cover the bill on the table, you stood from your seat in a hurry. You did your best to make things seem as if the two of you shared nothing more than a few classes back in college; normal— so why the hell did he have to show up in your life again when you were starting to realize what’s coming will be better than what was gone.

“Wait Y/N let’s just talk—”

“There’s nothing to talk about Sunghoon! You made things painfully clear that night so please just… pretend like we don’t know each other.” And with a frown you left, this whole acting normal bit was bullshit to begin with. Sitting back down in the booth Sunghoon couldn’t help but curse as the sight of your back leaving the shop quickly seemed a little too familiar. 

Instead of clarity, he left with more questions to fill his thoughts at night. 

“And you’re saying he was basically hinted you were the reason things didn’t work out.” Naeun pointed out; brows raised in revelation as the both of you were seated in your living room, cans of beer lining the coffee table alongside bags of snacks she prepared after asking her to come over. After your small altercation with Sunghoon last night you really needed another opinion on the situation— and a drink. 

“Well, he didn’t say it but it felt like he was insinuating it— I don’t know! Either way, I saw what I saw and heard what I heard, and you did too.” whining slightly you took one last gulp from the nearly empty can before crushing it within your palm. You thought it was ridiculous how Sunghoon had the impudence to turn this around on you, but what would be the reason?  

“Y/N just ignore him, it’s not worth thinking about it this much… I say you distract yourself with that cute coworker you’ve been friends with.” she chuckled passing you another can which you accepted with a frown. 

“You mean Jeno?” 

“Well— you said he was your type and the two of you get along well, I say why not.” she shrugged, nodding to the beat of the music playing from your speaker you let out a sigh of… consideration. 

It was true, the both of you always got along well, both in the work setting and away. Maybe you were too busy with forwarding your career, but you never thought about getting involved romantically with anyone else, that’s what you told yourself. 

And there was truth to it, in the years since you’ve accomplished a lot in your line of work. Aspirations became reachable goals, and you were finally at a point in your career which you considered stable for your age and experience. You wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t try to to talk to other men in these few years, but they just never worked out, they weren’t—

“Sunghoon is going to be a part of the school festival committee with you?” Blinking out from your daze, you nodded bringing your knees to your chest. “You make it sound like it’s just the two of us.” Chuckling slightly you popped open another can of beer to refresh the lingering bitterness on your tongue.

“But yes, the Science and Literature department are paired up for the festival. I’ll just do my best to ignore him but I’ll be hard if he keeps being confrontational.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?” Nodding at her softly you gave her a hug thanking her for coming over to make you feel better. 

“Go— your clingy boyfriend is about to call me again asking if you’re coming home.” With a smile she flicked you off before bidding you goodbye quietly in the hall outside of your condo.

Naeun always found you and Sunghoon odd, how such contrasting individuals were able to grow so fond of one another, adapt to each other so quickly and willingly. You were kind at heart with a mind that was filled with never-ending dreams while he was someone who lived in the moment with a dubious reserved mind. You’d think two people of similar nature would get along much better, but once she met her own lover in her grad years, she understood that wasn’t the case. 

“Yeah can I get one americano with milk please.” Glancing up from her phone, Naeun had to glance again to make sure what she saw— more like who, wasn’t who she thought it was. Naeun was here to have a drink before meeting with her boyfriend for a date to end the weekend, and the last person she expected to see was the guy her best friend was reviling last night.

“Park Sunghoon what are you doing here?” being just as shocked as she was, Sunghoon gave her an amused nod before walking over with his receipt. “She wasn’t lying when she said you were back huh, what are you doing getting coffee this afternoon.” Acknowledging his backpack she let out a hum when he told her he was here to fish a few assignments he had for upcoming lesson plans. 

Shifting on his feet, Sunghoon offered for them to take a seat recognizing that glint in Naeun’s glare that he knew well from before— she had questions, and he could guess about who.

“Did you know Y/N worked there before coming?” Being thrown off by the sudden question, Sunghoon couldn’t help but choke a bit on his coffee. Americano with milk and sugar, a staple he grew to love after you made him a slightly different version a while back at work. 

“If I knew she was here I wouldn’t have taken the offer.” With a raised brow Naeun couldn’t help but scoff slightly. 

“Wow you really do have the uttermost audacity.” leaning back in her chair as Sunghoon stared at her in confusion. 

“Listen I know you’re friends so you’d defend her despite anything and I’m not demeaning you for that—”

“And what would I be defending her for? Giving you a chance when other people were making her feel like she shouldn’t have? You broke her heart Sunghoon, embarrassed her in front of people who didn’t even know her.” Rolling her eyes Naeun was growing frustrated looking at the way his upset expression turned confused.

“Don’t act stupid Sunghoon people saw and told Y/N, people even told me that you left with some girl that night and never came back.” Sitting in silence, Naeun couldn’t help but cross her arms at the sudden quietude overcoming the table, the silent noise in the background filling the empty ambiance between the two. 

“Are you finally remembering now? Because I had to show up and pull Y/N off some—”

“Wait. Who told you that, who told her that? I told Y/N I was going to look for a friend— but I never left… she knows that.” A shift in his voice was clearly acknowledged by Naeun as she sat up in her seat shaking her head.

“I don’t know it was some guy she kept saying was your friend when I found her; drunk and delirious might I add, but she trusted you.” Disappointment laced her tone while Sunghoon looked away, thoughts running miles she could see, his eyes darting from the busy sidewalk outside back to the blending of coffee beans at the counter.

“I went to go talk to a friend— who I ended up not being able to find, then I came back and she was with an acquaintance I knew…he was all over her and I don’t know.” rubbing the paper cover over his cup, Sunghoon felt the weight shifting off his shoulders being able to finally talk to someone about what happened. But when Naeun didn’t respond; he couldn’t help but look up only to be met with bundled-up tissue paper thrown at him.

“You think she would really do that to you Sunghoon? She liked you, way too much for that to happen.” Hissing through her teeth Naeun couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, not at Sunghoon— but to you as well. What type of misunderstanding led to two different views of what happened? 

Running his fingers through his hair Sunghoon couldn’t help but grimace at her response. “Naeun that guy she was with was someone who showed interest in her before, he was a teammate of mine and I don’t know—”

“Well that would explain why he told people you left with someone else. I found her leaning against someone else for support because that asshole got her drunk and then left to god knows where.” With his eyes doubling in size, he couldn’t exactly explain the feeling traveling through him as he chugged the last of his coffee in one go. Foolishness? He knew better than to think you would do that, a mix of internal and external variables engrained him with a different memory than what happened.

But was it wrong for him to feel slightly hopeful? 

Cursing was the only thing Sunghoon could do sitting with this new information as Naeun finally understood the grasp of how big the misunderstanding was. 

“Is she at home now?” His question caused her gaze to snap toward him with a nod. “Then I should go talk to her about this—this mistake.” Stopping him quickly, Sunghoon knew it was imprudent to confront you at the moment, with what happened a few days ago he could conclude you probably wanted nothing else to do with him.

“Well you see, I might or might not have encouraged her to move on and forget about you and everything that happened.” Sheepishly scratching her cheek, she rolled her eyes as Sunghoon reassured her it was nothing to be sorry for.

“And I may or may not have told her to take a chance with the cute Coach from the math department.”

“Oh.” 

Naeun couldn’t help the guilt taking over her expression as Sunghoon sat down slowly with a slight frown, realization hitting him that she meant Jeno. 

So you were considering Jeno all this time. 

“Trust me when I say it was just a suggestion, she seemed conflicted about it first just… try to talk to her when you can, I promise she’ll listen.”

Well, she lied.

Every chance he took to talk to you never seemed to work out for him, from seeing you in the staff lounge to the storage units and printing stations— you were ignoring him, and he knew that. 

Somehow you always finished lunch when it was his turn to have a break or you managed to print all your paperwork magically when he showed up to the storage units after calculating your routes in between classes. It was hopeless. 

“Coach!” 

“Yeah sorry, um you two not going to tutoring today?” Tapping his fingers on the clipboard, Sunghoon could only watch as Jungwon shook his head with a grin knowing he caught his coach dazing off— again. 

“Nope! Ms.Kim said we’re all good with eligibility.” 

“He’s only asking because he wants to walk us to class again… right Coach Park?” Grabbing Niki by his jersey, Sunghoon couldn’t help but pull him into a headlock as the younger boy laughed at the teasing. He wasn’t sure when kids suddenly became aware of feelings; especially his, but if you asked the boys they would’ve said it was obvious from the way his eyes followed you when you were around. Or the way his head turns immediately at the mention of your name by staff or students.

But if you asked Niki thinks its obvious from the way he always volunteers to walk them to tutoring, your tutoring.

“Sunghoon!” Letting go of Niki he turned to see Jeno greeting him coming in from the outside field with the soccer team. Being the main coaches on campus it was expected the both of them would see each other often— unfortunately for him, as the idea that you were somehow considering on pursuing something with Jeno did not sit well with him. Sending him a nod, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes as the boys greeted their ‘favorite’ math teacher. 

“It’s not that hard to do math you know, I could help the two of you if you need it.” He sighed nonchalantly, crossing his arms as the two scoffed at him chugging their water bottles. “No offense Coach Park but why would we ask you if we have a math teacher who’s willing to tutor us?” Shaking his head Niki walked away leaving Sunghoon gawking, the whistle falling from between his lips as Jungwon shifted on his toes awkwardly. 

“Coach it’s true, plus Mr.Lee is super nice don’t worry! I always see him with Ms.Kim in the morning before class starts— yeah hold up!” Grinning at his teammates he gave Sunghoon one last knowing grin before running off to the others. 

“What do they know about being super nice?” He mumbled, blowing the whistle while motioning towards his assistant coach to go through with another round of cardio. 

It was funny really.

“Do you know today’s date?” Glancing between you working on a few notes and the other teachers talking about their plans for the upcoming school festival, he was grateful for agreeing to participate. Despite being one of the only people in his department to take charge of the role, Sunghoon truly was here to find a chance to talk to you— even if it meant asking for today’s date.

Seeing you weren’t paying much attention to him, he made sure to clear his throat a little louder this time. 

“What’s today’s date?” 

“It’s the twentieth…” Dropping his pen on the table, his jaw clenched hearing Jeno answer instead, his tone slightly annoyed at Sunghoon asking you the same question repreatedly.

“I wasn’t asking you.” He mumbled quietly, causing the latter to roll his eyes as he stated the date for Sunghoon to acknowledge again. 

He didn’t care. 

“What’s today’s date?” Sunghoon asked again, this time directly asking you with a tint of hope in his voice.

“O-oh it’s the twentieth.” You told him with a small smile, going back to answering questions some of the other teachers had about preparation time and supplies. With a successful smug, Sunghoon glanced over at Jeno who shook his head out of bewilderment. 

He found this to be an improvement, hell this was the first thing you’ve said to him since the dinner from over a week ago. “Do you need help with this?” You heard him ask, before you could answer Sunghoon was already grabbing the boxes you were carrying back to the paperwork room. 

“Yeah, you can just leave them here.” You pointed out, an awkward grin on your lips knowing the last time you spoke to him wasn’t the friendliest. 

“Hey I’m sorry about last time, I shouldn’t have blown up on you the way I did so I apologize—”

“No you shouldn’t apologize I sort of antagonized you so I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” He interjected, bringing his hands up in an attempt to stop you from interrupting him with a small huff. 

“Sunghoon I just don’t want us to be fighting anymore, it’s been so long we should both just get over it— I’m ready to forget about it if you are.” thinking it was the best solution you huffed softly seeing Sunghoon slowly nod shoving his hands in his pockets with a slight frown. 

“Is this not what you wanted?” Seeing him slowly bring his gaze up to yours, you released a relieved sigh as he nodded quietly. 

“Yeah I really do Y/N.” With a small smile, you nodded as the sound of other teachers down the hall interrupted the two of you. 

“Great because I’m gonna need a lot of help for the upcoming festival.” You pointed out, standing beside him letting the other staff walk into the room past you with a grin. 

“And I’ll be there to help you, always.” You heard him mumble beside you, heart fluttering lightly as your fingers gripped the fabric of your pants. 

You weren’t sure if your olive branch was going to do much in effort when it came to Sunghoon but— the two of you were now on good terms, really good terms to say. 

Maybe it was the effort of meeting up before or after school to brainstorm ideas for the festival but apart of you felt somewhat displeased. It was stupid really, you were upset when he was too caught up in the past with what happened, but now you were slightly displeased at the fact he was willing to forget everything just like that. 

Complicated— you knew. 

The sudden knock against the wood door made you flinch lightly from your desk as the sight of Sunghoon made you grin. After a few hours of grading papers, you didn’t notice the setting sun and quiet halls. Sunghoon has been coming either before or after school to discuss plans and set up ideas for the festival, when you learned he out of everyone signed up to run his department, a part of you grew in excitement. 

Seeing him at your door right now made you realize that, whether the halls and classes were empty in the bright early mornings or late in the setting sun, part of you felt a bit of self-sorrow. 

It reminded you of the way you were back in college, waiting for each other after classes with exciting smiles and playful hands. If things stayed the way they were, would the two of you have made it this far? Even if the exciting smiles turned into tired ones, and warm hugs replaced the playful ones— you could only leave it up to your imagination.

“Hey.” You whispered, his coming figure making you drop your pen softly. Eyes widening you scoffed as Sunghoon placed a cup of warm coffee on your desk. “I figured you needed a quick coffee break seeing how you’re still working this late.” He sighed, sitting ontop of one of the desk in front of you. 

“You came earlier?” His hum was enough to let you know he did as you were busy in your own world to be bother any further. “Isn’t this the coffee combo I made you before?” Your voice slightly amused as he nodded with a chuckle. 

“Yeah it’s been my go-to since you made me one— I guess you just know exactly what I like.” 

“So I think the class came to a consensus on their final ideas for the festival.” Changing the subject quickly, you failed to realize Sunghoon caught the sight of your eyes wavering, flustered.

“Oh yeah? What did they choose, our class came down to one as well.” Blinking quickly you did your best to remain calm as Sunghoon made his way around your desk beside you, his cologne tickling your nose while trying to ignore the obvious sound of your chair squeaking from scooting back slightly. 

“I-I think they all agreed to do a snack booth.” You replied, focusing your gaze across the room to the lab tables, an attempt to prevent your cheeks from heating up in embarrassment. “The kids chose a photobooth, I think that’s a good combination for our section.” He commented earning a nod from you. 

The feeling of something fluttering against your hair made you to flinch until the calluses of Sunghoon’s fingers caressing a few strands of hair came into view. 

“Stop overworking yourself.” he whispered. 

“I’m not Sunghoon I’m just behind on a few assignments is all.” You reasoned, leaning back into your seat as his fingers continued to play through your loose strands of hair. Being alone for so long, you often forget what it’s like to have someone asking you from time to time to slow down.

But to Sunghoon it was just one of your habits he knew you couldn’t get rid of, meticulous and compassionate to what you put your mind to, that was what he loved about you. But he knew it was important to put a limit on that habit. He knew you didn’t like people critiquing your work style as it was what you were used to— a small detail he noted back when you grew frustrated at the professor for telling you to take a break.

“Okay I believe you.” He sighed in a whisper, fingers still brushing the side of your face before continuing. 

“Just remember to rest from time to time… sleep can’t wait but graded assignments can.” he reasoned making you giggle slightly at how unserious he was with a nod. 

“The kids wanted me to let you know they’re expecting to see you at the game this Friday— especially Niki.” he brought up, leaning an arm against the head of your chair as you looked up at him confused. You haven’t been to any of the school games on campus, to be fair any games really since back in college when you went to support Sunghoon. 

“I think it’ll be important for them that their favorite teacher is there so think about it.” you heard him say, he knew you had a soft spot for the boys and they had one for you.  

And so here you were, after days of debating whether you were going to show up or not, you found yourself standing in your classroom overlooking the line of supporters outside the entrance to the gym. 

The moment you step foot onto the court, you noticed the home side of the bleachers were lined with hand-painted posters and school-colored streamers hanging from the ceiling of the gym, visible around the poles of the bleachers and floor of the gym. The loud cheering from the student section and low percussion from the band brought a smile to your face, it felt familiar yet so unfamiliar.

“Ms. Kim?” Smiling at the flushed boy you waved at him as he called over for the taller one with a grin. 

“You made it! I didn’t think you were coming,” Niki exclaimed with a towel wrapped around his neck. 

“Of course I came! You know I have some basketball knowledge up my sleeve.” you winked as two of them laughed feeling you pat them on the shoulder in encouragement. You recognized many students from class and coworkers with anticipating expressions, being one of the biggest games this season the energy was high, high in excitement and pressure. 

Trailing your eyes across the gym, it was a surprise to see so many people from the enemy team seated on the opposite side, school colors contrasting against each other as the tension grew on the court. Before you knew it, a grin ghosted on your face as your wondering gaze paused on Sunghoon; dressed in his suit with his clipboard in hand and a pen in the other. His brows were pulled into a frown behind his styled locks looking across the court to the other coach with a scowl, typical competitive Sunghoon.

You didn’t know what but something made you nervous, maybe it was because haven’t been in this type of environment in so long? Or maybe you were feeling the the stress from all the players on the sideline.

The moment his eyes met yours, it was like seeing him for the first time again at his game. 

Nostalgia, you were nervous because you knew coming here would’ve made you reminisce on all the good times you had with him those years ago. 

You were shown nostalgia was the hearts way of reminding you of what you once loved, what you once cherished. It wasn’t like someone told you, you learned to acknowledge it over the years. 

Through your favorite song that oftened played on the radio station you two enjoyed, Goodnight Radio. Photos and scents… nostalgia seemed to have always traveled to you, leaving a bittersweet feeling as sometimes happy memories make you sad–- despite the intended meaning of those words.

You gave him a shy smile, Sunghoon’s grin widening as he nodded in acknowledgement ignoring the looks of Niki and Jungwon glancing between you two. Finding your seat amongst the students, you were happy most of them greeted you with enthusiasm, partly shocked to see you here in the first place. 

“I’m surprised to see you here. Not really since I knew you’d come.” Sunghoon called out to you from the benches, yelling over the loud crowd in excitement as the band performance was coming to an end. You knew how important this was for Sunghoon, coming from a background where he was once in their position— this was a big game for him. 

Sure, you knew it would reflect on him as this was his first game as the coach, but you knew how important it was to him to win, for the team and for himself. 

“And who would I be not coming to support my students?” You yelled back, his smirk widening as he flung his clipboard towards the assistant coach who flinched, you figured he’d be used to that by now. His cheeky grin complimented his smiling eyes and it made you realize this was were Sunghoon belonged, on the court where he always called home.

As the game continued, you knew it was going to be an even game— with the team leading alongside a new coach, it was expected for a few mistake calls here and there. But being against a long time rival defending their wining title, everyone was tense throughout the first half. With the crowd growing weary you could see the stress seeping through Sunghoons stern expression. 

You couldn’t help but dismay your feelings aside noting Sunghoon motioning Niki in with a frown, he’s been missing all his shots and making many out of play moves costing the team points and fouls. Flopping on the bench, the boy was told to calm down by Sunghoon who went back to strategizing with the team with a tight frown on his face. 

With his head hung low and chest heaving— you stood up making your way down to the benches, away from the rest of the team where Niki was sitting.

“Niki.” Whispering to him, you heart melted seeing his upset expression under the towel draped around his head. He reminded you a lot of your brother back then, passionate and driven by the game but also very emotional in the heat of the moment; that could lead to some bumps in the road— you knew better than anyone growing up with it. 

“Ms. Kim I keep messing it up for the team.” You heard him groan, his fingers tightly intertwined trying to blur out the loud crowd from all around. 

“It’s not just your fault Niki, like you said it’s a team… you win as a team you lose as a team—and you mess up as a team.” Nodding slowly you grinned seeing him losen the tight grip on his fingers.  

“You know Sunghoon only benched you because you were getting upset, not because you’re bad. The last thing he wants is for you to put the blame all on yourself….but he shouldn’t have made that three pointer call if you want to point fingers.” You chuckled, grateful to see his smile again despite the sweat lining his hair. You noted the way his eyes flickered back to the group of players— huddled together as Sunghoon was desperately trying to keep his team together. 

____________

“You guys we can still win the game we just need to calm down and rethink our strats.” Sunghoon couldn’t help but feel anxious at the sight of the scoreboard before them, they were ten points down and one of his best players is sitting out for the rest of the quarter for his own sake. He knew how they felt, the pressure to perform well and to win against one of the biggest rivals this year, he saw himself in many of the players on his team.

But instead of forcing them to go through the burden and anger he grew familiar with, he knew it was the right thing to do seeing how upset Niki was getting both on and off the court. 

“Coach we need Niki— he’s usually the one leading all the plays down the court, it’s gonna be hard to get past their defense.” Jungwon breathlessly stated. 

“ I know but I’m not gonna force him to play when he’s spiraling, we’re just gonna have to play around not having him in the formation.” From his peripheral, his eyes caught your figure rushing back into the crowd— sitting amongst the other students and supporters with a heartfelt expression.

“Coach Park!” 

Seeing Niki rush over, he was surprised to see a smile plastered across his flushed face. 

“I can play Coach, I’m good.” despite his reassurance Sunghoon was still skeptical noting he wasn’t this spirited a few minutes ago. “Niki I’m not sure if—”

“Coach I didn’t come to play today just to lose.” he made sure to emphasize, and it all clicked for him— a familiar phrase that rang in his ear like bells. 

‘I didn’t come just to see you lose.’ 

It was a joke you’ve always said to him before his games to shake the nerves off his shoulders, even through the wins and losses he knew you were there to support him regardless of the results, and a part of him missed that. It was just something that ticked his heart a bit from the memories.

Bringing his gaze to yours, despite the rather obvious intent to look away— you knew Sunghoon understood your intent; he needed to give Niki the reassurance you gave him.

“Okay, I believe in you but you gotta believe in yourself kid—all of you do.” grinning at the team, Sunghoon felt relieved to see everyone jump in excitement despite the fatigue that overtook their faces not long before this. With less than a quarter left, he knew this was the last push both physically and mentally for the boys— with the whistle blowing the sound of the crowd grew both in excitement once again.

Niki was in a whole different state of mind compared to before the timeout, with both him and Jungwon finally on the same page; gaining points back was easy. However, with the other team being the best of the best, the score was still close— too close. With the clock ticking down and the difference being two points, either the team had to score a three-pointer or prevent the rival team from tieing.

“Niki go, run!” you suddenly exclaimed, ignoring the looks from those around as you could see the thoughts running through his mind faster than his feet were. With his fingers gripping the ball, you could feel your own gripping your pants. This was it. The adrenaline, the rush, the quick silence as everyone held their breath down to the last millisecond.

This was what you missed. 

A wide smile made its way to your face, seeing Niki and Jungwon jumping in both happiness and exhaustion as the students ran to the court to celebrate with them— you could only smile. 

They won, despite being the underdogs; they won fair and square. Nodding in satisfaction, you gave both of them a proud thumbs up as the both of them kept waving towards you in the crowd. If you were a little younger you would’ve found yourself down there with them.

But despite the happy occasion, it felt bittersweet. You were happy, so happy for the team but you didn’t want the neglected feelings you’ve tried so hard to push away overtake the joyousness you should be feeling. 

What should you be feeling? 

What were you feeling?

“Y/N!” Turning towards a familiar voice, your heart shunk realizing why the dread you’ve been feeling for the past couple weeks have been eating you up inside. 

“We did it! They did it.” Sunghoon grinned down towards you in joy. 

You noticed it that one evening— you could still see the Sunghoon you met in college, filled with drive and passion both in basketball and life. He wanted to do a lot of things, visit a lot of places, and accomplish a lot of things. You’ve never admitted it but, it tore you up inside wondering if he ever wanted you to be a part of that.

Has he been well since then?

Did he still think of you the way you thought of him?

Were over-easy eggs with a pinch of salt and garlic still his favorite?

What you and he had, is it gone— forever? You never admitted it, but he always lingered in the back of your mind without effort.

“What’s wrong?” You heard him ask you, shaking your head you held back a small cry trying to pass it off as being emotional for the boys. Your response was hushed out by the loud crowd while your eyes trailed to focus on something else other than Sunghoon who recongized that small glint in your gaze.

“Well I think we can thank you for talking some sense into Niki.” he blurted out, making you shake your head in defiance still admiring the confetti falling from above with a small smile. Sunghoon couldn’t help but admire the way your glossy eyes shimmered from the silver confetti falling above, they looked like the stars he used name in his head while stargazing with you on the campus lawn. 

“I owe you one— after this actually if that’s okay.” 

What you didn’t expect was Sunghoon secretly picking you up after the game behind the school. With kids celebrating in the main parking lot and on the field, the last thing you wanted was for a rumor to start about the science teacher and coach leaving with each other after the game. 

“Sorry did you wait long?” he whispered unlocking the door for you, shaking your head with a chuckle you slid in leaving your things in the backseat swiftly. 

“Are you picking a place to eat this time?” you grinned softly, his laugh echoing lightly throughout the car as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot passing by familiar faces you’ve seen in the halls. 

“Well it wouldn’t be much of a treat if you did all the work— did anyone see you?” He asked, eyeing you from his peripheral with a finger tapping the wheel. 

“No only a few teachers left through the back but other than that just Jeno.” you hummed. 

“Jeno?” he whispered, grip tightening on the wheel slightly making you bite back a grin unconsciously. “Mhm, he even asked if I needed any help going to where I needed to go.” you sighed nonchalantly, his occasional glances turning into full head turns— waiting for you to continue. 

“Did you tell him you were taking the bus?” His perplexed tone makes you giggle slightly as you continue to admire the colorful lights blending outside of the window. Sunghoon could feel himself breaking out in a cold sweat waiting for your response, with your head turned the other way he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Nope I told him I was going with you,” A smile broke across his face after realization hit him that you had no problem telling Jeno who you were with, and it was with him— silly he figured but it made his ego swell and cheeks heat. 

“Hey eyes on the road sir.” You playfully reminded him, pushing a finger into his dimple softly causing him to clear his throat in embarrassment —coughing nonchalantly to hide his giddiness.

After pulling into the destination, Sunghoon held a hand out to grab as you confusingly looked at him and then the empty parking lot you were standing in. 

“I was planning on taking you to a nice restaurant worth half of my paycheck but I figured you would’ve liked this a lot better.” he grinned cheekily, closing the trunk with a bag of take-out in one hand and alcohol in the other. Leading you up the stairs, your eyes widened slightly taking in the bright city skyline and busy traffic. 

“It’s not the prettiest but I think it’s still pretty.” He sighed, straightening a small towel he took from the locker room on one of the cemented platforms for you to sit on. 

“No Sunghoon it’s beautiful.” You whispered in a hush, leaning against the cemented edge with your elbows admiring the breeze from this high up, “Seriously.” you weren’t sure why but the view brought a content smile to your lips, after working nonstop for quite a while— you sometimes forget you step back and enjoy the moment. You learned to find the small and ordinary things beautiful, the lining car lights twinkling in the distance to the cicadas singing in the breeze.

Things will continue on in the world whether you comply to that idea or not, and it’s okay.

After perfecting his set up Sunghoon was glad you weren’t too picky about the setting, but you never were. Seeing you stare out to the view in fascination was a reason why he loved experiencing new things with you, not only was he getting to experience something new— but he was able to see you do as well. He loved it. 

“Yeah— it really is beautiful.” He repeated, your head turning at his agreeance only to see his gaze on you. The tip of his nose slightly red from the cold while his eyes were filled with solace as he looked down at you. 

Your heart was doing that thing again…. 

“Um, so did you decide on takeout? How’d you find the place?” You managed to let out, walking towards the small setup Sunghoon laid out as he rushed over to make sure the towel was still flat for you to sit on. “Y-yeah the boys said it was pretty good so I thought maybe we should try it.” He explained, motioning towards the pack of beer that you excitedly opened up. 

“The boys did?” kids were trendy these days and that could mean one of two things— it was gonna be really good, or just really hyped up. Surprisingly it was pretty good, Sunghoon could be a picky eater from what you remember but he was fully enjoying himself—that could also be from the alcohol. 

By now you were a few shots in, a couple of beer cans opened and a whole box of fried chicken finished. With the cold breeze brushing against your hot cheeks you couldn’t help but glance at Sunghoon from time to time secretly. His styled hair was now messed up slightly from the wind and his cheeks were slightly flushed from the alcohol. 

“Sunghoon.” You softly called out, eyes slightly hazed from the can of beer you chugged down wondering if this was a good idea to talk unsober. His low hum sent shivers down your spine as you stared off in the distance towards the twinkling city lights. 

Sunghoon was buzzed, he knew he needed to sober up soon to take you home but the thought of you next to him somehow made him anxious— leading to one too many shots. 

Maybe it was the way you were picking at the empty can between your fingers, or the blank stare off in the distance; he couldn’t tell what you were thinking and it made him wonder. Your somehow sad expression when he found you after the game made him realize one thing, with this time apart he didn’t know how you’ve been at all. 

Were you and your mom still on bad terms? You’ve confided to him one night after he found you crying to yourself when you thought he was asleep, despite how well and proud you presented yourself at school; you never felt good enough which broke his heart. You were sensitive, he knew that— a person who’d rather show off only your happy and good sides despite how polar opposite you might’ve felt.

“Do you regret it?” your small voice broke his thoughts, Sunghoon wasn’t sure if he heard right, the feeling of his heart suddenly dropping along with your solemn expression showed him you were speaking as yourself right now, not as the respective Ms.Kim, not YN from college but you right now in the moment. 

“Regret what?”

With a shaky sigh, you shook your head trying to mask the slight tremor in your voice. 

“I-I don’t know, everything?” You managed to let out, despite everything that happened, you had more good memories to grieve over than the bad—hardly any. Sunghoon was quiet for a while, and it made the thoughts in your mind run for miles wondering why. 

Maybe he did regret it. 

With your mouth gaping slightly the words ‘forget it-–it’s a stupid question’ were at the tip of your tongue. But a part of you knew it wasn’t stupid, it was just closure. 

“You know sometimes I think about it.” He sighed, his voice low from the unexpected question. 

“Just because we didn’t work out doesn’t mean you weren’t one of the best things that happened to me Y/N.” you unknowingly let out a shaky sigh, of relief? Content? You were happy to confirm what Sunghoon felt wasn’t a silly fling you tried to convince yourself he saw you as.

Acceptance? With the words ‘we didn’t work out’ solidifying your long-time question of what happened, you were somehow at the same time struggling to accept that this was how things happened. 

We just didn’t work out, despite for how bad you wanted things to— they didn’t.

“Me too—” it was the alcohol. Had to be the alcohol from the way your eyes found his, looking at you with a besotted gaze as warm as the feeling pitting inside. 

“You were mine too.” 

Unable to process what happened next, all you could feel was Sunghoon’s nose brushing against yours while your eyes fluttered on their own. 

His fingertips brushing through your hair and against your jaw had you gasping slightly— had to be the alcohol. The feeling of warmth radiating off his lips had your heart ticking to death, lips so soft you could remember your first shared kiss with Sunghoon under your covers that one night.

His blazer that was on your lap was slipping as the feeling of his chest brushing against yours made you melt inside— it most definitely the alcohol. 

“I regret it.” Your eyes immediately widened, freezing in place not understanding the meaning behind the sudden change in his answer. 

“Fuck I regret it so much Y/N.” he pulled away, running a hand through his locks as your hand slowly falls down on your lap, heart beating loudly from the mix of liquor and your emotions. 

“But you just said you didn’t…” you couldn’t help but notice your voice coming out softly from shock and fear— fear of your worst nightmare coming true. You didn’t realize but a small drop of sadness touched the palm of your hand, a tear. Sunghoon immediately cupped your cheeks whipping them away despite you telling him to let go. 

“No Y/N I meant I regret not reaching out to you after that night at the stupid party— I fucked up.” Your brows furrowed slightly not understanding his confession. 

“I accidentally ran into Naeun a while ago and she told me, everything.” he emphasized, bringing the blazer that was no longer near you back to your lap in a hurry. 

“I was stupid, I was lost, and I ruined everything.” he softly told you, his eyes downcasted towards your hands with remnants of tears that you collected in the past minutes. 

“Did you know her?” his questioning gaze led you to clarify the question further. 

“Did you know the girl you left with that night?” You whispered, playing with your fingers while the wind blew through your hair across your tear-stained skin.  

“What? No Y/N there was no girl… there was never another girl—ever.” He emphasized, turning to you quickly brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I just went outside to see if my friend left and went around the block a few times before talking to Jay…” he explained, hoping you remembered his college friends from that night that could vouch for him. 

Glancing towards Sunghoon your brows furrowed slightly trying to connect the dots, with his soft gaze taking in your reaction you immediately turned to face him as well. 

“And when I came back you were together with Kyungmin—” he cursed slightly his eyes looking into the distance with his brows pulled together. The name was unfamiliar, but you exactly who he was talking about.

“Sunghoon no— I” you denied, shaking your head expressing that you certainly weren’t together with Kyungmin. 

“I know.” he muffled, taking your hand in his before pulling to sit close, the heat from his arm radiating off onto you slightly making it painfully obvious about how close he was to you. Chewing the inside of your cheek, the urge to tell him that you missed him fell at the tip of your tongue—much to your surprise he beat you to it. Bringing your enclasped hands together, a small peck was placed in the center of your dorsal palm, your skin burning with butterflies as a small smile made it’s way to your lips. 

“I missed you so much.” He whispered, his eyes meeting yours filled with solace and sorrow— the moonlight perfectly highlighting the tip of his nose and the darkness of his pupils. 

“I missed you too Hoon.” your small voice making him sigh into your palm almost in content. 

“Missed you too much.” You added seeing his gaze travel across your face made your throat tighten— breathing hitched as the pink of his cheeks and the deep color of his lips became more visible with each passing second.

No matter what happened you realized after meeting Sunghoon again after all these years— you will always find your way back to eachother, back to the person who was meant to have your heart. That’s just how things worked for the both of you.

Two souls such as yourself don’t find eachother by accident or coincidence. 

You could say goodbye to everyone else but not Sunghoon, never Sunghoon. Not when his brown eyes were gazing like you owned his world. His lips pecking your cheek softly as you felt your heart burst in love and jolity.                           

And that feeling of love and jolity continued with each moment of intimacy shared between you two after that night. The secret kisses under the blanket at your condo as he stays the night after only wanting to drop you off after work— to the secret kisses inbetween classes behind the printer in the faculty room and underneath your lab tables.

His slender pinky that would hook onto yours underneath the table during faculty meeting were your favorite, it was quit obvious by the smile ghosting on your lips absentmindedly while Sunghoon swung your intertwined pinkies across his lap. With the festival coming up soon, alot of these sweet moments were limited as the both of you not only had the ending semester work to complete but also responsibilities with the school festival.

But Sunghoon never failed to call you after work, whether you were preparing dinner or getting ready for bed; the chime of your ringtone always brought a smile to your tired expression. 

“Ms.Kim where do you want us to place these chairs?” Twirling the pen between your fingers you motioned for your students to carry the stack of chairs towards the otherside of the court yard. With the festival happening later tonight there were still plenty of tasked to be done and last minute details to perfect before you could call it a day. When hours became one, you were basically running around campus like a crazed chicken to find the missing signs that were needed to complete your photobooth stand.

“Shoot where the hell did I place the signs.” you mumbled, swiftly going to your class that was filled with supplies and crafts done by the students. It was a festive time for the students, exams were over and the holidays were coming up; with the new year came new things to look forward to and the festival was the cherry on top.

“Ow!” You cursed, holding onto your knee that accidentally bumped one of the desk as you rushed to the missing signs that you were looking for. 

“Y/N?” Your eyes instantly darted towards the door seeing an equally disheveled Sunghoon with a box of snacks by his foot, you figured he came up to the class to get supplies as well. 

“Hoon!” you exclaimed softly, getting up from your position noting that despite looking disheveled— Sunghoon was still so handsome. 

“That’s gonna leave a bruise.” he snickered, eyeing the size of your christmas sweater the two of you decided to secretly match with. The memory alone made him smile, the one you initially wanted was out of stock and the next option was two times the size of what you would usually buy. But you looked adorable; slightly flushed from running around, hair was pushed behind the backs of your ears by the headband you were wearing.

“My little reindeer is so cute.” he cheesed, poking your antlers as you looked up to him with a sparkling glimmer in your eyes. Feeling him pull you into his embrace, your arms immediately circled around his wasit, face buried into the wool of his santa sweater as you felt him kiss the top of your crown, whispering a small I missed you inbetween kisses that eventually landed around your face. 

“Everyone did a pretty good job setting up for the festival.” You hummed, looking outside of the window at the twinkling colored lights from down below and the line of people waiting for the festival to begin. 

“Well if it wasn’t for you always on our asses–”

“Sunghoon!” You exclaimed softly, pushing him away as he apologized with a chuckle—reaching to pull you back into his embrace. With your arms leaning against the window, you couldn’t help but smile in silence, silence that was no more filled with pain or acted like a void, it was silence of appreciation. 

“This is kind of familiar don’t you think?” you heard him say beside you, his elbow slightly touching yours against the window as the two of you looked off into the courtyard, a small giggle leaving your lips as he made fun of Jeno for tripping over a few boxes from behind.

Looking up you realized what he meant from his comment as your smile softened at the warm twinkling bulb lights you decorated along the upper rim of your windows.

“Yeah instead this time Jake won’t interrupt us right?” You teased feeling him wrap an arm around your frame trapping you against the window. Leaning down he hummed a thought, his warm breath tickling the apples of your cheeks— the flashes of his friend interrupting his first kiss with you making him chuckle from the thought alone.

“I don’t know wanna try?” Slapping his chest lightly, you couldn’t help but look away shyly, bitting the bottom of your lip at how flustered he was able to make you. Using his free hand, Sunghoon brought your face to look at his again, his fingers tracing the lines of your features while his eyes took in every inch of your face. The two of you gazed at each other again in silence, not saying anything; but it was the kind of nothing that meant and told you all you needed to know once again. 

Sunghoon had a place in your heart you knew was always going to be there. 

“Ms.Kim WOAH–”

Niki.

Pushing Sunghoon away with all your might, you couldn’t help but apologize softly at his taken aback expression as his stumbled back against the lab tables. Clearing his throat as Jungwon and Niki both came rushing in with other students who seemed to have caught the two of you by the window. 

“Y-you were looking for these right? I found them lets go!” grabbing the posters you couldn’t help but curse as the students began talking over you, understanding the situation a little more as Sunghoon smuggly grinned not denying any of the accusations, rubbing the nape of his neck as he took in your flustered expression. 

“Okay okay, I hope everyone here can keep a secret right?” he announced gaining everyone’s attention. Small sounds of disbelief and annoyance echoed throughout the quiet classroom, some of them scoffing at the idea of keep this big of a secret while others were still in shock about their two favorite teachers caught almost kissing.

“If you do I’ll sneak everyone here a breakfast sandwhich for the first day of school after winter break.” he sighed in defeat, grinning in relief as everyone collectively cheered and agreed as one. You quickly told everyone to go down towards the courtyard, as the lines of people began to fill going towards different booths and activities.

“And make sure no one finds out! Actually you can tell Coach Lee I don’t really care.” Sunghoon stated, earning a few chuckles from the students and a glare from you. Shoving the posters towards Jungwon, his dimple came into view as his fond eyes traveled between the you and Sunghoon; a small ‘your secret is safe with me’ making you grin halfheartedly. 

While the room grew quiet, you couldn’t help but snicker slightly as Niki came running back, passing Sunghoon a poster you assumed was a draft or one that was messed up before it was finished. The two of you stood there looking at each other knowing you were caught red handed by your students, gosh this was bad if the board found out. You couldn’t help but notice his grin brightening as you began to freak out at the fact you and Sunghoon almost made out in front of your own kids. 

You were getting fired. Demoted at best, but most definitely fired. This would ruin all the plains you had lining up for your career— THIS was gonna ruin your reputation and—

“Y/N.” pausing mid rant you looked at him and couldn’t help the warmth that spread throughout your chest as your shoulders relaxed almost immediately. 

Of course Niki gave him that one specifically. The cutout poster that had a mistletoe drawn just above his head, small hearts and snowflakes lining the borders with the words ‘I like you, from my head to my mistletoe’ written on the bottom. Your laugh echoing through the class as Sunghoon quickly embraced you placing kisses around your face. 

In moments like this is when you realized you were grateful for Sunghoon in more ways than one. When you picture yourself being happy, there are many things that come to mind. Traveling the world to places that have always been on your bucketlist, learning how to cook michelin star dishes that you’ve had at restaurants, you wanted to raise a puppy on your own and even thought about going back to school to get your doctoral degree in science. 

Those were all things you want to do, things you wanted to do with Sunghoon. You weren’t going to make him your sole reason of happiness that’s a little silly, but you smiled more when you were with him, and you realized he understood you more than anyone else has. He made your ordinary moments feel magical and was the kind of person who pushes you to be better, he was your best friend.

In between kisses and embraces Sunghoon never failed to let you know he loved you both in tone and in silence, and he never failed to show you a different side of living that was of course filled with love.

Because that was just who Sunghoon was, someone filled — With Love.

EEEK I NEED PART 2

gameboy :: p.js — one

genre: gamer! jisung x gamer! reader, college au cw: female reader, fwb to lovers, explicit smut, pervy jisung, male masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, inexperienced jisung, cum play/breeding kink, pet names, slight humiliation kink, size kink, creampie, probably more wc: 18.257k

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The red letters that flash across your screen read ‘Defeat’, illuminating your dimly lit room with a shy, red hue. The instant the word appears on your monitor, a voice blasts through your headset, erupting in emphatic complaints and protests. You can hear the clatter of a keyboard and mouse being shoved around on the other end of the receiver, and it takes everything in you to stifle your laugh. 

“We definitely could’ve won that!” the boy scoffs, “I swear, sometimes it feels like you and I are the only people with any fucking game sense.” 

“Wow, thanks for the validation,” you joke, instinctively queuing up for another match. Your eyes trail up to the little icon in the corner of the screen that glows green every time he speaks.

“You know what I mean,” he grumbles, and you imagine he must not look all that different from the little crying cat picture he set as his discord icon. The thought makes you snort, but he ignores you, stating, “I think this is my last game,” 

You nod even though you know he can’t see you, “same, I have class tomorrow,”

“First day of the semester for you, too?”  

You nod again. “Unfortunately. My days of gaming until four and sleeping until noon have come to an end.” 

He laughs, leaning forward in his chair as he realizes something, “You know, I never asked what you’re studying,” 

“Oh,” you blink, “Well, the first class I have tomorrow is just a random credit I needed, but I’m actually majoring in-” 

It takes less than a few seconds for your words to drown out into a muffled buzz, and the only thing Jisung can focus on now is the silky, smooth sound of your voice. 

He would never admit it, at least not out loud, but your voice makes his heart beat just a little faster. The way each and every word rolls off your tongue makes his breath hitch, imagination running wild at the thought of what your lips look like when they mold to form each syllable and sound. 

Every night like clockwork, Jisung finds himself rocking side to side in his desk chair, eyes hanging low and round lips curved up into a smile as he listens to you speak.

It’s so easy to talk to him, too. By now, you’ve lost count of how many nights the two of you rambled off in voice chats, watching shows or playing video games or simply oversharing the details of your lives. It’s only been a few months since you met in a game chat, on that night where he practically harassed you for your discord after you carried him up a rank in-game. You’re secretly grateful he did, though you wouldn’t let him know that; the two of you effortlessly became part of each other’s daily routine, and now, calls with you are his favorite way to end the night. Tonight is no exception.

Jisung begins to mindlessly swing in his chair as usual. He’s humming passively between your small pauses to encourage you to keep going as his hands automatically start caressing his torso. It’s a somewhat innocent gesture, or at least it starts out that way: his palms sliding across the ridges of his abdomen as he listens to your voice. It’s better than music to his ears, and it urges his long fingers to dance closer and closer to his waistband.

“–and I thought about changing it, but I think with an degree in Lit, I could probably get a career in–”

Lost in your voice, Jisung slips his hands into his shorts, holding his balls as he fully zones out of the conversation. He knows you’re saying words and forming actual sentences, but his social awareness has dwindled completely and he absolutely can’t seem to get past how sweet you sound, and how much sweeter you would sound under… different circumstances. He moves up to hold his dick gently and furrows his brows. Almost accidentally, his thumb brushes along the underside of his tip, teeth clamping the inside of his cheek and gnawing on it to ground himself. Just as eager as its owner, Jisung’s dick jolts in his palm, progressively swelling up until it’s flushing bright pink. 

“You’re into English?” He manages to stop daydreaming and hone into the conversation for a fleeting moment, just long enough to ask you that simple question and keep your attention off of his rapidly shifting breath.

He’s blatantly playing with himself now, ever so distractedly. It’s an autonomous act: the way the pad of his middle finger trails over his slit to collect a bit of the pre-cum that has begun to dribble out in pearly beads. He hisses, then quickly snaps his mouth shut in hopes that you hadn’t heard him. 

“Yeah,” he can hear your smile in your words, “I think I always have been. I used to read all the time and—I swear, if you say I’m boring, I’ll personally come over and choke you–” 

As he acknowledges reality for a quick moment, his pace falters. His brows pinch, and he feels confused as he realizes he can’t stop or even moderate his actions, despite the shame slowly beginning to wash over him. The more you talk, the harder he grows. His grip is getting tighter, his strokes needier… he must be losing his mind. With a gulp, he thinks to himself, what would you do if you could see him touching himself like this to you? Would you think it’s sick and twisted or would you offer to help him out? His head begins to throb as the room spins around him, but he really can’t seem to slow his motions. By now, he’s bucking his hips up and into his hand while the other covers his mouth, silencing the whines that threaten to leave his throat. He’s breathing heavily, praying to god you don’t somehow notice his perverted actions. Despite knowing that he isn’t thinking straight, Jisung can’t help the thoughts that continue to fog his mind, rampant and obscene. 

Could you hear the squelching of his hand pumping his cock, covered in his pre-release? Or the way he’s practically panting, reduced to nothing at the mere sound of your voice? He’s not sure whether or not his mic would even pick that up, but even so, the corner of his lips curl into a lazy smile as his mind continues down his twisted rabbit hole. 

In spite of not knowing what you look like, there’s no denying that he wants to give you all of him. He wants to feel himself buried deep inside your throat, your pretty voice vibrating around him as you choke on his length. He feels himself twitch in his palm and he subconsciously nods, picturing it's your walls around him instead of his own inadequate hand. Jisung huffs out once, fucking his fist wildly, picturing how much he’d like to feel himself bust inside of your warm, tight pus-

“Sung? Sung!”

“Huh? W-what?” As he yanks his hand from his shorts, the waistband snaps against his skin and he yelps out at the impact, “Sorry! I promise I was listening, it-its just, I got a little caught up with–” words are tumbling out of his mouth, before he can catch up to them.   

“It’s fine, it’s fine! Hurry, just pick your agent before the match gets–” but the timer runs out, and the lobby screen appears once more as you sigh, “–canceled...” 

Jisung glances down at his hand, separating his fingers and watching how the sticky pre-cum leaves webbed strings between each of his parted digits. His stomach is also wet, and the tent in his pants is growing increasingly painful with each passing second. 

“What were you fantasizing about, huh?” Oh, fuck. The teasing edge in your words makes his nerves tingle, and he throws his head back as you hum into your mic, “Hmm. Well, I guess it was more interesting than what I was saying. Can’t blame you though, the topic of school is boring me too, and the semester hasn’t even started yet. Also, that can’t count as your last game. I literally won’t allow it.” 

You queue up for another game and Jisung sighs, watching the timer on the screen tick away. The picture changes, and the two of you are prompted to start a game. A few kleenex wipes collect the mess on his hand and torso, and he settles back in his chair after tossing them, deciding his neediness will have to wait for now.

Bidding you good night is harder than usual tonight, but he knows you need to get to sleep—you mentioned you had an early class and he had his own, so his selfish urge to keep you talking until he came in his hand would, unfortunately, need to take a raincheck.

After logging off of his computer, Jisung drops his head into his hands with a sigh.

What the fuck even was that? 

A mix of shame and arousal take over him as his cheeks begin glowing a deep shade of red. He lets out a small scoff, shaking his head to himself as he gets up from his chair. His dick is still as hard as a rock, and he can’t help but feel flustered at the fact that he has, quite literally, blue-balled himself. 

With a towel swung over his shoulder and a clean pair of sleeping shorts clutched in his fist, Jisung walks up to the dorm’s nearest communal bathroom. He turns on the faucet, freeing himself of his clothes. The moment his boxers come down past his thighs, his length slaps against the skin below his navel, making him hiss out as he steps into the shower. The cold water, running down against his heated body, seems to be doing the trick of clearing his mind, that is, until his hands find their way to his stomach, rubbing the soap over it.

It’s so hard to expel the thoughts of you when they’re so intrusive and tempting, and Jisung lets his mind drift off once more, imagining how it would feel to be touched by you, sucked by you. All the soft noises you would make are weirdly familiar; he can practically hear them. His head falls back, lips caught between his teeth as he twitches and gives himself an experimental stroke, shuddering as his thumb glides across the slit of his sensitive tip. He clenches his eyes shut tighter, letting out a shaky sigh and letting the water continue to trickle down his body. He doesn’t know what you look like, other than your hair color which you mentioned the other day. Despite that, he still tries desperately to piece an image of you together behind his eyelids, picturing what your lips are like. And just like that, thoughts of you flood him, and he shudders at the vision of you on your knees, looking up at him with big, innocent eyes, begging to taste him and take all of him. He longs to feel you swallow around him—to grab either side of your face and thrust into your needy mouth until the tears slip from your eyes and your pussy is dripping from the need to be fucked.  

Getting lost in the moment, he doesn’t even realize how loud he’s becoming and how fast his fist is working his dick. Jisung's highly anticipated release is only seconds away when a loud knock startles him, lunging him right back into his body.

“Yo, man! How long are you gonna take in there?” His friend and next door neighbor, Mark, shouts from the other side of the door, knocking again and ruining Jisung’s fantasy once and for all. 

The boy takes a moment to clear his throat and swallow, not trusting his voice to not crack otherwise, “Uh.. Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.” 

It takes everything in him to slow his hand to a stop and pry it off of his shaft, deciding that perhaps, he shouldn’t entertain his filthy thoughts any longer. He quickly finishes showering with another unnecessary interruption from Mark, then drags himself back to his room and gets into his bed, forcing his eyes shut in an attempt to sleep. The longer he lies there, however, the more restless he grows. 

His dick feels sore to the touch and it’s driving him absolutely crazy. Every time he adjusts his shorts or moves his legs, his balls throb from how full they are. Knowing he has class to get to the following day, he tries to convince himself that maybe he needs a release to get to sleep. It’ll tire him out, and then finally, he’ll be able to get some rest…There’s at least a bit of logic to that theory, or that’s what he tells himself, anyway. 

Against his better judgment that pleads with him to just shut his eyes and count sheep, Jisung huffs out and slips his hands into his shorts to begin touching himself for the nth time tonight. This whole time, he had been unknowingly edging himself and now he’s so, so undeniably and incredibly desperate to cum that it literally hurts. 

His free hand brings his phone up and unlocks it, thumb swiping quickly in search of the discord app where your contact resides, the little green bubble next to it signifying that you’re still online. He hovers over the call button, taunting himself with the idea of making a call to you at this time. One little click, and he’d hear your voice again. Just one click and he-

sung ᨐฅ started a call. Today at 11:54 AM

Shit, shit, shit. 

He rushes to hang up, but you’ve answered no more than a ring later. 

“Hello?” 

Jisung holds his rather unsteady breath, staring wide-eyed at his phone. His dick pulses in his palm that now rests still. 

“Sung?” 

As gently as possible, he lays the phone down on his puffed up chest, letting out his breath slowly so that you don’t hear him.

“I’m gonna assume you called me by accident… ” you sigh out in disappointment, growing quiet in uncertainty. For a second, Jisung is convinced you’re gonna hang up, but when you stay on the line, he peers down at the screen curiously. 

Your icon lights up green and there’s some shuffling on your end, presumably from you getting comfortable in bed. 

He hears you yawn and smiles fondly. 

“I’m tired,” you mumble, “are you asleep? I was actually excited that you called. Maybe it’s my fucked up schedule… or, maybe I’m just dreading tomorrow, but I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know…” 

You’re speaking slower and quieter than usual, but you’re speaking, completely oblivious of the fact that he’s thinking of the dirtiest things that involve you, getting off while you think he’s sound asleep. 

“It’s always easier to sleep once we’ve talked so,” you pause, then sigh out jokingly, “I guess I'll just talk your unconscious ear off until I fall asleep…You don’t mind, right?”

God, no, he thinks.  

Jisung silently celebrates your decision with a pump of his hand, shuffling a bit to get comfortable as you go on about genshin and cats and other things he can barely pay mind to. It takes no more than a few strokes, shallow ones where he caresses the angry head of his dick to the velvety sound of your slurred and drowsy mumbling, for him to bring himself to come so fucking hard. 

His knees lock as his cock springs up in his clutched palm, spewing streams of white cum all over his stomach, chest, and thighs. The muscles on his abdomen ache from the way they contract, eyes and jaw shutting tightly as he challenges himself to remain quiet. The sheets aren’t spared from his thick load either, his nut dripping down the sides of his tummy to make dark, round puddles on his bed. His toes curl as he tries his hardest to not gasp out when the pleasure dissolves into sensitivity, digging his head back into the pillow with a hand clasped over his lips. 

A few minutes later, the blurriness in his vision is relieved, along with the ringing in his ears. You’ve stopped talking; instead, the receiver picks up your short and shallow breaths, as if you’ve fallen asleep with your mouth open. Cute.  

As he assesses the aftermath of his much needed release, he wishes he could snap a picture and send it to you, so that you’d wake up knowing this pathetic mess he made was all for you, because of you.

Alas, he can’t, and he hangs up once he’s completely sure you’re resting. With his eyelids feeling much heavier than before, he manages to toss his phone onto the nightstand before he, too, drifts off to sleep.

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning, Jisung wakes up in a bit of a panic. The first thing that throws him for a loop is the fact that his alarm didn’t go off at all. He quickly realizes he forgot to set it amidst the activities of the night before. The second thing that strikes him is his own hand that rests on his stomach, stuck in some kind of damp, sticky liquid. In his half-conscious state, he lifts his fingers and his puffy eyes widen as he identifies the clear fluid that decorates his tummy as his drying release from the night before. 

“Ugh…” He grimaces, sitting up in his bed. His phone, which is less than half full of battery since he forgot to plug it in, blinks back the numbers 8:38 at him. Jisung’s eyes widen as he remembers that his first class of the day, of the semester, is at 9. 

“Fuck!” In a flash, his blanket is flung off of him and his legs are swinging over the edge of the bed. He moves to grab some tissues from his nightstand, making aggressively desperate attempts at wiping away his cum. When the Kleenex sticks to him instead, he digs around his drawers for a pack of wet wipes, snatching a pair of pants off of the floor at the same time and practically yanking them up his legs. 

Despite almost falling over, he manages to get them on and clean off his torso… for the most part. A random sweatshirt is tugged on over his head and he runs his hand through his hair a few times to tidy it before passively telling his reflection, this will do. 

Moments later, he’s rushing downstairs and outside of the dormitory with his unzipped backpack hung over his shoulder. He rushes to unlock his bike, cursing as he fumbles with the keys. Once he’s on, he starts pedaling to the Science building on the other side of campus, heavily dreading checking the time in fear it’ll read some absurd number and he’ll wind up being much later than he anticipates.

The breath that’s been caught in his throat all morning is only released when he steps through the door of the lecture room to see that the professor hasn’t walked in yet, and that the clock reads that he’s 6 minutes early.

Finally slowing his rushed pace, Jisung does a quick once over the room to scan the faces of his fellow students before taking his seat somewhere near the back. Thanking the heavens that his notebook and textbook didn’t go tumbling out of his bag in the midst of his previous hurry, he tugs them out, flipping them open and writing the date on the first page. His laptop, which is where he had planned to take notes on, sits in his dorm room where he left it on his desk. Everyone else has theirs out, but he’ll just have to bring his own next time. 

There’s a distant click, and the door on the lowest level of the lecture hall opens. Through it walks a relatively tall and slender lady, heels echoing rhythmically as she strides over to set her dark bag down by the podium. Her hair is tied back high and tight, so much so, that all of her features look like they're blending into her hairline. She looks like she’s somewhere in her mid-to-late fifties, and from the instant she walked in, the entire class went silent.

She clearly has a presence that commands attention and undoubtedly, she fits the visual profile of a strict college professor quite well, especially when she picks up the chalk and scribbles her surname onto the green chalkboard beside the larger projector screen.

“I’m Professor Hwang. Welcome to AST1002, also known as Descriptive Astronomy. If you’re here, that means you took AST1001 with Mr. Kwon last year. He has since transferred to a different department.” 

There’s no audible response, although some disappointment does flash across the faces of the students in the room, all of whom did have (and seemingly would miss) Mr. Kwon. Professor Hwang doesn’t seem to notice the lack of responses, and continues speaking as she pulls some papers out.

“Firstly, I’ll take attendance. Then, I’ll pass the syllabus around. I would like for you to note,” she pauses to place a pair of red glasses high on the bridge of her nose, “that attendance is mandatory for my class, and worth 20% of your grade. I’ll go over pop quizzes and weekly quizzes, as well as the initial class project, when each of you have a copy of the syllabus. That being said, I look forward to seeing you all here every class. Please call out when you hear your name.” 

As she starts to take attendance, Jisung takes the time to sigh into his hands, both exhausted and dreading the fact that he’d have to spend three days out of the week rotting in a lecture hall to attend a class he expected to be fun, or at the very least a break from his much more difficult core classes. By the looks of it, that’s no longer the plan. 

It’s easy to zone out quickly while his mind is still foggy, no doubt from the lack of sleep and the subsequent abrupt awakening that followed. He had just begun an attempt to read the syllabus when something made his ears perk. 

Immediately, his head snaps up in pursuit of a soft and airy voice that just responded to Professor Hwang. It’s so quick and in passing that he almost thinks he might have imagined it in his delirious state, but the way the hair on his limbs stands on end is unmistakable. His eyes dart around the room, hitting his classmate’s heads like targets, but there’s absolutely no way to identify the individual who just spoke. 

Could it be… No. No way. 

Jisung is no stranger to daydreaming about you, but he isn’t completely delusional. He knows the chances of being not only in the same city, but the same university and class as you are absolutely slim to none, so he stops that train of thought dead in its tracks. 

It does segway him into thinking of you, though. You’re obviously not here, so he wonders instead what class you are in at the moment. He tries to picture what you’re wearing on your first day of class, trusting you look more put together than him in his old hoodie that is slightly sticking to the dry cum on his stomach. Do you like your classmates? Your professor? He sincerely hopes you have a more tolerable one than he does. 

“Park Jisung?” 

With a slight cough, he spits out a weak “h-here.” and instantly grimaces, raising his shoulders autonomously as if he would get scolded for stammering so pathetically. The professor, to his relief, doesn’t even glance up from the roster. Then, he feels quite silly for even thinking he would get reproached for that to begin with. In his defense, she’s a rather intimidating woman, and his inner monologue is so loud and flooded with thoughts of you that he fears she may have heard it. 

She finishes calling for attendance, resorting to striding up and down the aisles as she begins to dissect the syllabus. In an effort to pretend he’s paying attention, Jisung glances down at the size twelve font on the page, skimming over the words without really taking anything in. During one of the professor’s paces, a pen she had resting on her ear slips and falls towards the ground with a slight clatter, and it seems a student picked it up for her, because there’s a slight mumbling, followed by a sharp “thank you,” and a very, very recognizable,

“You’re welcome, Professor.” 

His eyes widen at once. Alright, call him crazy, but now he thinks that it really might have been your voice. The familiar timbre, warm and delicate; a sound he’s heard for months on end and knows embarrassingly well… The thought of being in the same room as you out of sheer luck and coincidence makes his abdomen twist and his palms sweat so bad, he has to wipe them on his pants.

He hates that he can’t fully tell, in fact, he’s almost ashamed that he can’t; before today, Jisung would have sworn up and down that he knew your voice better than even his own, but you sound so far and so quiet that he can’t completely bet all of his marbles. Then, he quickly realizes calling it ‘your voice’ definitely makes him sound delusional, even in the safety of his own forgiving conscience. He decides to call it ‘the voice’ for now, at least until he’s a hundred-percent sure. 

An irritatingly long hour and half later, the only sound that continues to ring around the lecture hall is Professor Hwang’s monotone one, reciting each and every itemized assignment and rule on the never-ending syllabus. There’s less than fifteen minutes until class is over, and she shows no signs of stopping her dissertation. 

“As for the class project: In pairs of two, you will research a constellation extensively to create a presentation on its formation, who cataloged it, and the Greek myth that may accompany it. Please note that this is the first and last time we will talk about constellations in this class, since they are not cosmic phenomenons but instead, a mere roadmap to the objects and themes we will be focusing on. Consider this strictly as an opportunity to familiarize yourselves with another classmate and show me your interest and effort in the subject. That concludes our syllabus,” Thank God, Jisung thinks. 

 “Any questions?” She glances around at a hand that floats in the air, near the front of the room, “yes?” 

“Will we be able to select our partners?” 

“No. Partners will be assigned at the end of the week. Yes?” She calls on another hand. 

“As for the constellations,” Wait, that’s it! That’s the voice—that’s your voice, he’s completely sure of it!  “Will you assign those as well?” 

Jisung elongates his neck to try and peek over the heads in his way. It is you, he’s positive now, but you’re turned away from him, and he can’t fully make out which ‘back of the head’ is your ‘back of the head.’ The echo in the hall makes it nearly impossible to pinpoint who just spoke which means he can’t pinpoint you. For some reason, he finds himself slightly panicking, desperate to finally see you in person.

He follows Professor Hwang's line of sight as she answers that she’ll assign the constellations on Friday too, and finally finds you, seated between a few other students. A few more questions are thrown around, but his eyes never leave you, anticipating the moment he catches a glimpse of your face. 

Naturally, his first instinct is to approach you as soon as class is out, but when he sees you spin around to pick up your bag that hangs off your chair, he finds himself glued to his own flimsy seat. Feet stuck to the ground, legs not budging, and air hitched in his throat at the sight of you. 

You’re so, so much prettier than he could have imagined with whatever unoriginal features he tried to piece together in his lacking mind, and that fact makes him both exhilarated and completely nauseous. 

He’s barely been looking at you for a few seconds when he feels his insatiable cock growing fast in the confines of his pants, with no regard for its owner and the fact that he has to stand up within the next minute or so to exit the hall. Jisung curses under his breath, awkwardly rising to his feet when most of his classmates leave, his bag clutched tightly in front of his groin. He prays you don’t glance over, not even because he has a semi-hard on he’s failing to hide with dissimulation, but because he’s staring at you like some sort of freak and can’t seem to look away. 

There’s nothing he wants more than to come up to you and say hi and confess he’s the person you’ve been gaming with for months. He’s pictured it countless times before, you’d think he’d have it down by now, but your beauty is intimidating, and he simply cannot and will not make a fool of himself in front of you by greeting you with a raging boner. 

You walk out of the classroom and Jisung’s heart settles in his chest as he sits with his decision to stay anonymous for now. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

“She was obnoxious, you have no idea!” 

“My teacher wasn’t much different,” he admits, a small, knowing smile toying at his lips, “she seemed like a real bitch,” 

It’s later that same evening, and talking to you doesn’t really feel the same anymore. It’s much harder, because now, Jisung can vividly picture you, sitting in your chair with your hands on your keyboard and mouse. Every word you say, his imagination is right thereafter, picturing your pretty face clear as day in the forefront of his mind. 

The moment he got home, he fucked his fist until he came in his hand. It took about five minutes, and then he pumped another one out in the shower, (a much needed shower, at that) where he finally washed away the remains of the night before. 

After he had lunch with Mark and the other boys from his floor, they had invited him to play basketball. At the same time, however, he received a direct message from you, explaining you didn’t have any other classes for the day and asking if he could get on earlier. 

It’s a little ridiculous, but now that he’s seen you, now that he knows you’re so much closer than he initially thought, he can’t wait to talk to you again. And so he quickly came up with an empty excuse related to his studies, took the berating from his friends like a champ, and rushed upstairs to log into his PC and open up your chat. 

“Not only do we already have a project, but we don’t even get to pick our partners.” 

I know! He thinks. 

“Like,” you start, and he pictures the way your cheeks fill up with air as you let out a huff, “what if I get stuck with some weirdo?” 

Instantly, Jisung stops palming himself, letting his hand climb back up to the mouse slowly.

He probably shouldn’t let that innocent statement affect him as much as it does, but he can’t help it. He has the advantage, right? Or, at least it seems that way. 

When everything is laid out, he has the upperhand of knowing who you are—you haven’t seen him, yet… but what if you did see him, and he wasn’t at all what you were expecting? Or even worse, what if you got paired together for the project and you thought he was weird or the two of you didn’t get along? That option is far less likely, since there are well over fifty students in AST1002. 

“I don’t know,” you start, “I’m considering switching out of the class-” 

“No!” Wow. Good going, Jisung.

He catches his slip-up and quickly blurts out, “I-I mean, it might not be that bad! You should… at least give it a shot before you try to switch out, right?” 

“I guess you’re right… The add and drop period at my school is until next Friday, so I'll try it out until then.” 

Great! Perfect! Good save. The only problem now is: Jisung has a little over a week and a half to somehow convince you to stay in his class and at the same time, not completely butcher his introduction to you. Approaching you now seems practically impossible, but he needs you to stay in the class, even if it means he has to come up to you first. He can’t be bothered to care that his insistence is for his own selfish intentions, if it means getting to see you three times a week. 

“But anyway,” he clears his throat, changing the topic as quickly as possible, “how did your other class go?” 

“Much better than the first, the teacher let us out early once he covered the books we’d be analyzing this semester and attendance isn’t mandatory since most of the material is online or in the library. I think I’ll swing by there one of these days to see if I can get ahead on some of the assignments.” 

“Oh, so you’re a nerd?” You gasp and smack his character in-game a few times. He laughs, calling out, “okay, okay, truce! You’re not a nerd then, just an overachiever.”

“How so?” 

“We’re barely a day into the semester and you’re already trying your homework that I’m sure isn’t due for at least a few weeks,” 

You roll your eyes, knowing he’s right. With a bit of playful flirtation twisted into your tone, you hum out, “What can I say? I like to please.” 

One of his eyebrows perks up, “is that right?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He can hear your smirk through the screen, and now, he can vividly picture it, too. 

Jisung scoffs, backing away from your character so that he’s out of your sight. He cowers into a corner in game;  this way, you don’t notice how he stops moving when his left hand leaves the w,a,s,d keys to cup and rub his needy bulge. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

Wednesday’s class is somehow packed and entirely uneventful at the same time. The first of Professor Hwang’s dragging lectures is so loaded that Jisung actually thanks the heavens that he remembered to bring his laptop. Otherwise, his notebook would have been about halfway full already, and his hand? It would have fallen off. 

On another relevant note, he’s struggling to stay focused because today, he is sitting much closer to you. Intentionally, of course. There’s still a few rows between him and you, but in this new seat, he can glance at you as often as he’d like without straining his eyes or stretching out his neck to make his gawking painfully obvious. He can clearly make out your smooth skin, along with other details he wasn’t able to notice before like your beauty marks and your dainty earrings. You’re paying unfaltering attention to the class for the first hour, but after the sixty-minute mark, you appear to have become bored. He catches the way your pencil starts doodling along the corners of your notebook and it takes everything in him not to snort when you scribble down a wonky looking cat. 

He’s so distracted by you, that every couple of slides, he glances back to the projector to see that the class is now on an entirely different topic than the one he last managed to jot down. He doesn’t mind, though. You’re a much more enthralling sight than quasars and supernovas. 

Halfway through the lesson, you decide to peel off your little black cardigan and hang it on the back of your chair, exposing your arms and neck and shoulders to him. Your hair is tied up neatly right after, giving him all the more to gawk at and envision. Jisung has to remind himself that he’s in a classroom just so that he doesn’t start fantasizing about how it would feel to grip your hair up in a similar fashion and fill your throat up with his dick.

With great difficulty, he directs his focus to the board instead, typing quickly into his laptop all the notes he manages to catch before the slide changes again and Professor Hwang’s narrow eyes can scan the room to see who’s paying attention. 

When the class is over, you start talking with the girl next to you, aimlessly reaching back for your bag. The gesture makes your cardigan fall, and Jisung has to fully bite his tongue to keep himself from calling out your name and giving himself away. He waits to see if you’ll notice, or if someone nearby will alert you, but neither one happens. Instead, you stand up, still engrossed in your conversation, and make your way towards the door. Instantly, he jogs down the aisle and between the seats to grab it and wordlessly hand it to you, but by the time he makes a move to head in your direction, you’ve already left. 

He feels disappointed at first, but the feeling quickly shifts into relief. Wordlessly hand it to you? Does he want your first impression of him to be awkward and borderline rude? No and definitely no. This problem has a simple solution—it’s a blessing in disguise; he’ll take your cardigan home and bring it to you on Friday and maybe, if his courage allows, he can introduce himself then. 

“Hey! I noticed you left your sweater here last class. I brought it for you. Oh, and by the way, it’s me! I’m @sung.ie. How did I know it was you? I can recognize your voice across a huge lecture hall.”

Yeah… he’ll think more on that later. 

With your cardigan clutched in his fist, Jisung sighs, making his way outside and towards his bicycle. He tucks the clothing item into his backpack and pedals back home, wondering how he’s going to manage to give it back to you since you always get to and leave class before him.  

He knows some of his friends and dorm-mates have their own class today, they had exchanged schedules during lunch a few days ago, which leaves him to hope and pray you’ve decided to skip your class and get online. As he parks his bicycle downstairs and locks it, he slips his phone from his pocket and opens discord, but your bubble remains gray and cold. You’re offline. 

Maybe you haven’t gotten home yet. He checks his phone again when he gets upstairs, and again when he goes inside his dorm, tossing his bag aside and crashing on his bed. He checks after losing a round of candy crush, and again after replying to a text from his mom. 

By the looks of it, you were in class, or at the very least, not available for the moment. Jisung sighs, pretending he’s not actually as disappointed as he feels. It seems a bit dramatic to feel the need to kill time until he gets to talk to you again so he resorts to doing physics homework—a short baseline his teacher assigned that wouldn’t be graded—and tricking his brain into thinking the former is not what he’s actually doing. 

When he pulls his bag off his desk chair to grab his laptop, your cardigan comes into view, and he pauses to look at it. He sits like this for a moment, wondering if he should fold it nicely on his dresser so he can remember to take it to you, but his hands act before his mind can catch up, reaching in and basically shoving the material toward his face. 

With his nose buried in your scent, Jisung inhales deeply, sinking into his chair as his legs grow weaker. The trace of your floral softener is the first aroma he gets, and then, the smell of your perfume peeks through, soft and sweet and very fitting for you. Once more, his treacherous hands are acting for themselves and he’s suddenly undoing his belt single-handedly. 

Once his dick, growing by the minute, is out and clutched in his palm, he finally retracts your sweater. With little hesitation, he wraps it around his erection and pumps once, throwing his head back in immediate relief.

It’s a fucking miracle that his room is the last one at the end of the hall, and that his next door neighbors, Renjun and Jaemin, are both in their afternoon lectures, because nothing would have been able to muffle the wanton moan that rips from his chest as he strokes himself with your scent. His hips are bucking up into the air, and in only a few minutes, he’s broken a slight sweat. His balls tighten from sheer sensitivity at the act of fucking something directly related to you. 

A cry of your name, followed by a few more pumps and he’s coming inside your mangled cardigan, his white release breaching the thin material. It seeps through it like light through a veil, gathering thickly on top before spreading into a dark, wet patch. There’s a shudder that passes through his bones as he sits back, burying his cock into the fabric and keeping it there until he’s given up every last drop. 

The only thing that snaps him from his post-nut bliss, is the distinct discord ring-tone that blasts through his headset. His computer monitor turns on as your icon appears and simultaneously, his heart and dick both twitch. 

“Hello?” With his output device swung over his head, he presses the green ‘answer’ button and speaks into the mic, hiding his slight shortness of breath with a yawn. 

“I’m so glad you answered,” you beam, and he does too, “I was worried I had called while you were in class or something,” 

As he speaks, he wipes the remnants of his cum off with your cardigan and puts it aside on his desk, tucking his softening (and still very sensitive) dick away into his boxers, “No, you’re good. I had a class earlier today but now I’m free.” 

“What a relief,” you sigh, “Would you want to have a little homework ‘sesh’ with me? I just found out the library doesn’t have any available labs. I doubt I’ll be able to concentrate much with you but at least I'll be in good company.”

“Like an e-date?” 

“We can call it that,” you grin, then he pictures your expression becoming a gloom one to match your slightly sadder tone as you admit, “Sometimes I wish we went to the same school so we could meet up and study at a coffee shop.” 

He snorts, unable to help but crack a joke, “Like a real date?” 

Your laugh makes his heart swell slightly. When you reply, “Maybe,” it starts flipping wildly in his chest. 

God, you can’t even begin to imagine how badly he wants that. 

“That would be nice,” he agrees humbly, a blush creeping on his cheeks. “What class are you gonna study for?” 

There’s a pause before you speak again where you hum in thought, flipping through a few pages and shuffling through your bag. Jisung joins you, grabbing his laptop and school supplies, “I have a project for my astronomy class. It’s related to constellations and I wanna start researching them so that I can make an outline for the assignment,” 

He looks through his math notes with his brows furrowed down, “I thought she was gonna assign them on Friday?” 

Your icon flickers as you reply, “She is, but I want to—wait. How did you know that?” At your words and the realization of his untimely slip up, Jisung’s body goes rigid. He can only imagine the confusion on your features, and he’s quite relieved you can’t see the look on his. If his eyes were to open any wider, he’s sure they might just slip out of his head. 

“Oh, um,” he clears his throat mechanically, then gulps in an effort to lubricate it and keep his voice steady, assertive, certain. “You mentioned it on Monday, remember?” 

“Did I?” You didn’t, but he really hopes you think you did. “Probably,” At that, he lets out the air he’s holding, shaking his head slightly at himself for being so careless. 

“But um, yeah,” he starts before you can give it any further thought, “If she’s assigning them Friday why are you working on it today?” 

“Cause she’s also assigning partners on Friday, and I don’t really know anyone besides the girl who sits next to me and I doubt I’ll get paired with her. I want to make sure my grade is secured, you know? I’ve never liked group projects. I feel like all the work gets dumped on me.” 

He’s still not entirely sure what you mean to do, or how you intend to create a blueprint of sorts without knowing what it was for, and so he stops flicking through his page of notes to look up at his monitor and ask, “But if you don’t know which constellation you’re gonna work on, how are you gonna make an outline?” 

You ponder his question for a moment, then mumble out, “She didn’t mention a rubric or anything, so I figured that as long as I plan out the different sections and give the project a structure, half of the work is cut out, right? I can just assign parts at that point.” 

“You’re that kinda person in a group project? I’m sorry to whoever gets partnered with you,” He’s not sorry, not at all. He’s rather envious, actually, despite his attempts to sound indifferent or amusing. Being granted time to spend with you at your place or his, or at the library or the local campus cafe, would be a no less than perfect ice breaker. Jisung would make sure you never felt like all the research and assembling depended solely on you—in fact, he could see himself now, spending countless hours perfecting the details of his assigned part and inquiring about other suggestions to improve the project, just to impress you or at the very least, satisfy you. The reality that someone else would get to do all of that in his place is disheartening. 

You guys had rarely ever talked about school before now, since neither of you actually were enrolled in any classes when you started chatting, but now that it’s relevant, he feels like he understands a whole different side of you. You’re organized, and obviously very studious. Hell, you’ve been itching to get started on assignments that haven’t even been assigned yet. You’re responsible, dependable, funny, beautiful, and every time he thinks of you lately, he realizes that his innocent crush is slowly becoming an insatiable one.   

“Hey! I’d be very nice if it was you, you know. Show you some favoritism,” the corners of his lips twitch upwards—“But I’m also glad it’s not you,”—and fall down again. 

“What? Why?” He tries to not sound too offended. 

“I’d end up talking your ear off, Sung.” 

“I’m already used to that, don’t mind it. Kinda like it, actually.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” He nods curtly, even though there’s a monitor and an entire school campus between you and him and he knows you have no way of seeing his gesture. There's a moment of silence that you spend taking a brief breath as a glow tinges your cheeks. 

With a stifled laugh, you open your mouth again, “I think it’s just because you like me that you tolerate my rambling,” 

“No.” He’s quick to clarify, “I really do like it.” He loves it. 

“And me?” your voice is much quieter, almost giving the impression that you’re shy in asking something so decisive and direct. Jisung, emboldened by your vulnerability, and the distance the screen puts between you two, answers with certainty. 

“I like you, too.” 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

 “The constellation project, as I mentioned during your first class, is a tool for you to acquaint yourself with your classmates. It will be due in 3 weeks, and you can check the syllabus for specifications regarding that. After today, there will be no changing partners or constellations so should you need any changes to be made, you have until class is dismissed. Listen closely as I read out the pairs for the project. I will not repeat myself.” 

The sharp tone he’s growing more and more distaste for by the day drowns out as Jisung glances over at you. Today, you’re sporting a bone-colored long sleeve and corduroy pants with half of your hair held back in a shiny clip. You look ravishing. Truthfully, he can’t really tell if you’re wearing makeup or not—although he concludes it doesn’t matter. Your features are soft and pretty nonetheless, and your cheeks have turned rosy from the dropping autumn temperatures. 

“Yu Karina will be partnered with Lee Heesung. Your constellation is Cassiopeia.”

When you walked into the lecture hall this morning, there was a hot coffee cup with the campus cafe’s logo on it clutched in your hands, which you sipped on while shivering. Taking your usual seat, you greeted the girl next to you, who Jisung now knew was called Yu Karina. 

The dark haired girl perked up when Professor Hwang called her name and waved down the aisle at who he can only assume is Lee Heesung, her partner, then whispered something to you. You looked over at the boy and back at Karina, nodding and giggling with her. 

“Jennifer Huh, partnered with Ning Yizhuo,” Professor Hwang referenced her other list, “Constellation: Cancer.” 

The two girls greet each other with a look and a smile, but Jisung pays little mind. He’s listening intently—for the first time—in anticipation of hearing one of your names be called. He doesn’t exactly know your full name, only a nickname he refers to you as, the one attached to your discord handle. Otherwise, pinpointing you that first day of class would’ve been much easier. 

“Park Jay and Lee Sohee, your constellation is Orion.” 

Sitting there, he realizes that in all the months you’ve talked, he’s never once asked for your full first name. Is that strange? What kind of friend is he if he doesn’t even know your name? In all fairness, you never asked for his, either, so he supposes it’s okay. Would have been useful to know, though, at times like this. 

After his small confession of ‘like’ on Wednesday, the two of you went on studying your respective subjects, with the occasional (and inevitable) distraction here and there. Admittedly, he thought his comment would be forgotten rather quickly. It wasn’t like he outwardly poured his heart out to you, so he figured you’d move on and just crack a joke or two about it later. There was a change, though; a strikingly obvious one to Jisung, who hangs on your every word like it’s a tether that keeps him from floating. And, even if he didn’t pay such close attention to you, there’s no way he could have missed the new flirtatious ambiance that flourished afterwards. Flirting with you is not uncommon by any means—the two of you playfully tease each other with frequency, but it’s nothing he’d allow himself to look into too much, for his own sake. 

That changed in the hours following his comments. All of Wednesday evening, the two of you went back and forth, feeding each other compliments in the form of banter. Again, he thought it would end there, but on Thursday afternoon when you logged on, he asked how your progress was going with the outline, to which you texted back, “I was thinking of you all day. Didn’t get around to doing much else.” 

It wasn’t the only message from you that nurtured his feelings, either. There were enough substantially flirty messages from your conversation that night, that he was able to scroll through them and reread them a few times before bed. 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 6:49PM

hi did you smile when you saw my name pop up on your phone just now

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 8:22 PM

you’re so cute

i can barely think 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 9:14 PM

i feel like my day doesn’t make sense if we don’t talk 

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 10:58 PM

i should get to sleep 

but i don’t wanna stop texting you

ynn ᓚᘏᗢ: yesterday at 12:02 AM

goodnight, sung <3 miss you til’ you’re back

Now, as he eyes you with a boyish, lovesick gaze, watching you doodle your stupid little drawings as you await your assignment, he finds himself praying for the courage to come up to you after class.

Professor Hwang calls your name next, something he only realizes at the fitting similarity of your nickname and the way your pen meets the table in alert to being called on, head lifting up and eyes blinking expectantly. 

“Your partner will be,” 

Jisung holds his breath, chanting in his head ‘please, oh, please let it be me,’

 “Lee Chan.” 

Wishful thinking never got anyone anywhere, then. He ignores the way his heart sinks into the pits of his stomach, unable to help but observe your curious gaze as it looks around the filled seats. For a fleeting moment, you meet his eyes, but he doesn’t react or claim to be Lee Chan who you so evidently are in search of, and so you pass him and keep studying the aisles. After a few seconds, you find no one gazing back, even after you slightly stand to peer above the nearby heads that obscure your view. 

“Your constellation is-” 

With a cautious raise of your hand, you interrupt Professor Hwang gently, “Excuse me, Professor, but I don’t think my partner is here.” 

For a moment, her lazer-like gaze looks like it could light you on fire, a consequence of daring to interrupt her, but it softens only slightly as she realizes the truth in your statement, scanning the room herself and calling out for the missing boy. Upon receiving no call back, she thinks for a moment, then looks back down at her clipboard and crosses something out. 

“I did mention attendance was mandatory, didn’t I?” This she mutters to herself, “No matter. Instead, you’ll work with,” she gives the paper another once over, then clicks her pen and speaks, “Park Jisung.” 

In an awkward burst of both excitement and confusion, Jisung darts out of his chair. His knee hits his desk with a clang, and his laptop would have gone flying if it wasn’t for his quick hands that catch it before it can fall. The loud ruckus turns several heads in his direction, including Professor Hwang’s and more importantly, yours. 

Feeling an awful lot like a deer caught in headlights, Jisung blinks as the two of you make eye-contact, then he takes his seat again, very quickly by the way. “Uh, that’s me,” he announces, heat spreading across his face and eyes darting around, “Sorry.” 

Does he feel more sorry to his teacher and classmates for disrupting the classroom, or to himself and you for the absolute fool he has just made of himself? As much as he’d like to tear his gaze away from yours and cast it to the ground in embarrassment, it remains stuck on you, awaiting your impending reaction. 

You’re rather unsure how to feel, though given, a little surprised at the commotion. You offer him a small smile through pursed lips, and Jisung nods, willing with all his might for a hole to open in the ground beneath him and swallow him.  

“Thank you, Mr. Park, for your remarkably clear confirmation. Your constellation is Gemini.” 

You turn in your chair to face the front again, scribbling down his name in the corner of your notebook, as well as the constellation you’d been assigned.

“He’s cute,” Karina comments to you as you look over at her, and you finally let out a small laugh you had been holding in. 

“He is. Clumsy,” you snort, “but cute.” 

“We both got cute partners. We should meet up at the library later and all get started on the project together,” 

You nod enthusiastically, going back to your outline that sits at the ready on your laptop screen and making quick work of labeling the different sections evenly. If it wasn’t so obvious for you to spin around and steal a glance, you might have done so again. You’re certainly tempted to, thinking back to seconds ago and realizing you hadn’t really noticed him the last two classes. 

Jisung watches your exchange with his dignity at serious risk. He’s entirely unable to hear or make out what you’re saying to each other, and it makes his pulse pick up and his mind race. He considers many things as he watches the two of you talk: firstly, asking to change his partner, but then realizing that would be an awful idea. Once you knew who he was, how would you ever forgive him for immediately ditching you? Absolutely not. Cowering had gotten him nowhere so far. 

Then, he considers switching out of the class himself, and disappearing, never to reveal himself to you—but that wasn’t the right thing to do either. Incapable of checking out of your life so quickly and denying himself the treat that is seeing you three times a week (and now, possibly more), he cans that idea, too. 

As Professor Hwang finishes reading off the list of names, he begins planning what he’ll actually say to you, as that conversation is just minutes away. There’s less than a half-hour left of class, which means he has to think hard and fast. 

As he busies himself with the grueling task of picking an appropriate and redeeming introduction, he doesn’t hear the new instructions from Professor Hwang, which are to find your partner and begin brainstorming, as well as exchanging schedules to set aside time outside of class to work on the presentation. A shadow falls over his desk and consumes his work space in darkness. When his curiously squinted eyes trail up to find the source, only to land on you, hovering above him with your things clutched in your arms, he grips his seat to keep from jumping out of it for the second time today. 

“Is this seat taken?” 

So much for having time to figure out how to approach you. His heart does a leap of surprise in his chest in place of his physical body, and he resists the urge to clutch it.

“No.” He replies shortly. 

With your unfaltering, kind smile still present on your face, you laugh softly and place your things down, introducing yourself. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.” he politely corrects you. When you don’t immediately react, he wonders if you had even heard him. He doesn’t put it past himself to have imagined that he replied to you, between his sweating palms and nervous jittering, and your pretty self sitting just a foot away, he’s barely keeping it together.  After a moment that feels infinitely longer than it actually is, you raise your eyebrows slightly, round lips parted to ask your question with a palpable hesitance. 

“W-what?” 

“Jisung,” he quickly replies, pronouncing the ‘g’ clearly and masking the way his eyes widen with a heavy blink that honestly, may not serve as any better of a guise. He pleads with himself to get his shit together but luckily, you don’t seem to notice. 

“Oh, sorry… Sorry, It’s just—nevermind. Hi, Jisung.” 

“Hi, Y/N.” He savors the way your name feels on his tongue but keeps his enjoyment brief. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” you start, lifting the screen of your laptop to reveal the very same outline you had started working on during your last call with him, “but I already made an outline. If you wanna scrap it and start all over, we can—” 

“No, It’s fine, we can use this,” when you give him an unsure look, he smiles reassuringly, “It looks brilliant.” 

“Thank you.” There’s a pause that is filled only by you clearing your throat, “Ok, I have a literature class right after this one on Mondays and Wednesdays. The rest of my classes are online, so I’m free at any time, really. I usually like to study at the computer labs in the library, it’s nice and private there and I find it much easier to focus. But if you don’t want to go there, we could always go to the cafe or the square for some fresh air. Oh, and either one of our dorm rooms works fine if you’re okay-” 

To experience your presence on a phone call is one thing, but to experience it in real life, with your clear voice so arresting and your silky, smooth lips within reach, is absolutely mesmerizing. He’s fighting the urge to glance down at your mouth, but it’s becoming increasingly harder to sustain eye contact, as lovely as he decides your eyes are. Another thing that is becoming exponentially harder, and more sensitive all the same, is his cock, springing to life with an eagerness to greet you. 

There’s a bit of panic that flashes across his features as he senses the strain it’s causing in his pants, and only when you look down at your outline does he dare to sneak a glance down at his own groin where as expected, a noticeable imprint was beginning to develop. In a desperate gesture, he slides his notebook over his lap, suppressing a hiss, and leans forward to pretend to use his own laptop. 

“Any of those work for me,” 

“Okay, great,” You notice the time and turn back to him. “You can just message me when you’re free.”

“Sure.” 

“And here’s my number—” you reach over, sliding the protective notebook from his lap and placing it on your desk, scribbling your number in the corner. Jisung immediately readjusts his hoodie, throwing the hem of it over his boner. Professor Hwang dismisses the class as you pass it back. 

“Call me whenever you’re free.” With a spin of your heel, you wave goodbye to him and rejoin Karina, who waits for you  at the door with her partner.

Jisung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and looks down at the number you wrote. Beside the digits, written in very neat handwriting, might he add, sat perched on a wobbly branch a little black cat that he recognized from his hours of staring as one of your doodles. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The time is 4:33PM, and Jisung has drafted over a dozen messages on the iMessage app addressed to your number. None of them have exactly made it to you yet, courtesy of his thumb that keeps pressing backspace and wiping out any trace of a remotely embarrassing text. It’s the next day and no introduction or invitation to meet up seems like it’s good enough to send, though he knows that inevitably, he has to text you first. You left your number behind with the doodle that he has since stuck to the corner of his PC monitor, but you never took down his; so now, the ball is in Jisung’s court, and he knows that if he waits too long, you’d think he was avoiding you or the project altogether. 

Realistically, he knows a simple “Hi, it’s Jisung,” will suffice, but he can’t bring himself to send you such an unoriginal and boring message. After pondering for a moment, he then decides the best solution would be to do some research, and then call you with his findings—this way, his interest in the project would be clear, and he knows how important that is to you. 

At once, he peels your cum-stained cardigan off of his lap, though not before stealing a glance at the day’s new additions, and places it aside. He tucks his spent dick into his short and turns on his monitor, typing the name of the constellation into Google and investigating nearly every website he could find with any useful information. 

In the nicest handwriting he can manage, Jisung bullets a list of all the facts and history he could find on ‘Gemini’ within the hour, including the stars that make up the constellation, the myth behind it, and other relevant statistics. It isn’t until he has filled up an entire page front and back—partially—that he picks up his phone again and makes another attempt at contacting you. 

Feeling slightly more confident, he types up his message. 

To: 555-111-0205

hi, it’s jisung from astronomy. i did some research and i wanted to show you what i found. let me

know if you’re free to exchange notes. Sent at 5:52 PM.

Jisung rereads over his message for any flaws, though there’s nothing he can do about it now that it’s sent, anyway. After he deems it an okay first message, he takes a breath and moves to put his phone down, but it buzzes in his hand instead. 

Incoming call at 5:54 PM From: 555-111-0205

“Hi-”

“Hi! Sorry to just call unannounced but I’m walking to the library with all my stuff and I can’t really text. I was able to book us a computer lab for the next two hours so If you want, we—can you hear me?” 

He sits up straighter, “Yeah! Yes, I can hear you,” 

“Oh, good, so—wait, hello?” Your voice shifts in volume and proximity, as if you pulled your phone from your ear to check the call screen, then brought it back, “Oh, sorry. I-I thought I had accidentally called someone else… nevermind.” Instantly, Jisung realizes instantly that you must have recognized his voice. It makes sense, seeing as you’re used to hearing it specifically on calls. You seem to show no further suspicion as you continue speaking, though, but perhaps, he should keep talking on the phone with you to a minimum. 

“Do you think you can make it? Otherwise I can go work on my own. I saw your text and instantly booked the room. Sorry for not checking in with you first,” 

“I’ll meet you there,” He replies quickly, grimacing at the instinctual effort it takes to try and make his voice deeper. 

“Okay! Great. I’ll see you there, then.” You hang up, and then your text message comes through with the lab room information just minutes later. 

Jisung all but lunges out of his chair and rushes to face himself in the mirror, taking in his reflection. Besides his hair that looks slightly disheveled, he looks alright. He doesn’t want to make you wait long for him, so he quickly grabs his laptop and his notes, shoves them all into his bag, and flies out of his dorm room with the laces of his sneakers left untied.  

In the brightly, yellow-lit hallway, Mark and Chenle are popping out of their respective rooms, a basketball clutched under the younger boy’s arm.

“We were just about to come grab you,” Chenle starts, “Let’s play some ball. Jeno’s meeting us at the court,”

“Can’t,” Jisung shakes his head, “I’m going to the library,” he tries to not get offended at the way the two boys snort loudly in disbelief, looking at each other as if they’ve both had the same thought. 

“Yeah, right.” Chenle scoffs. 

With a blink, Jisung replies meekly, “I’m serious.” 

“Since when do you go to the library?” Mark brows pinch and he adds, “It’s the start of term. You’re already studying?”

“Since now, I guess. I have a project for a class so I’m gonna go meet up with my partner at the library, but I’ll catch you guys later.” 

“Alright, alright. Oh—remember there’s a party next week at Jaehyun’s frat for syllabus week.” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” His answer doesn’t seem to fully convince Mark, Chenle, or even himself, but they seem satisfied enough, because they let Jisung go without any more pestering. He flies down the flight of stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. 

The cold September air is biting at this time in the evening, feeling particularly cool on the apples of his cheek, which glow from the light layer of sweat that develops during his jog over to the library. It’s a considerable distance away, which is part of the reason why he, in his two years of being a student at the university, has never seriously stepped foot inside of it. Studying in his room is much more convenient, but you seem to like the library, so the twenty-minute-walk there, or in this case, fifteen-minute-jog, will simply have to be adopted as a new way to get in some brief exercise a few times a week. 

More than likely, you have already arrived, and Jisung doesn’t want to make you wait too long for him, especially since there’s a two-hour time limit on the room and he intends to spend as much time with you there as he can. He wipes his cheeks with his gray sleeves and climbs up the stairs of the building quickly, swiping his student card at the door and stepping inside. 

The ceiling is massively tall, seemingly taller than when he once saw it during freshman orientation, and the endless rows of shelves are filled with books, ranging from thin, colorful novels to thick, leather-bound classics. It’s quieter than he expects it to be, even for a library, and he clearly can hear the pitter patter of his feet as he follows the sign labeled ‘Study Rooms and Computer Labs.’ 

The guy at the reception desk in this section seems to be a volunteer, his student ID and name tag shining on his shirt. He glances up from his book when Jisung approaches, nodding once. There’s an awkward silence that feels rather loud as Jisung fumbles with his phone, flipping it between his clammy hands as he searches for your message. 

“Computer Lab 4C?” 

Wordlessly, the boy nods again, then slides over a clip-board with a sign-in sheet clamped to it. 

It’s surprising to see how many lab spots are filled up so early into the term, names scribbled along the lines and time-slots. Your name stands out, partly because of your familiar handwriting, but particularly because of the empty line beside it, where he signs in before handing the clip-board back. 

“Down the hall, second door on your right.” 

It’s Jisung’s turn to bob his head once and the boy looks back down at his book. He makes his way down the hall until he reaches the correctly labeled door. His hand reaches for the handle, but he withdraws it. Should he knock? Or maybe send you a text? Or both? 

To: 555-111-0205

hey again. i’m outside :) Sent at 6:18 PM.

The door creaks open from the taps of his knuckles bumping against it, and he peeks his head in timidly, finding you sitting in one of the desk chairs, nearly hidden behind your laptop and a stack of books. You look up over the screen, eyes squinting in a smile. 

“Oh, I had left the door open for you,” you stand up, holding out a cup for him, “and I got you coffee… didn’t know how you liked it so I just got you the same thing I order,” 

There’s a fluttering in his stomach as he sets his bag down. There’s no chance he can manage to meet your eyes after such a gesture so he casts them to the ground instead, graciously reaching out to receive with both hands the drink you offer him, “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles, “but thank you. I’m sure your order is great,” 

“I wanted to! It’s just—I mean, I did drag you out of your room in the cold and on really short notice—A hot coffee was the least I could do,” you shrug, “One of my friends works at the cafe and I was there doing some work for my literature class before I got your message and I figured I’d grab us both something before I headed over here… Sorry, I’m talking too much. Here, sit down.” 

He’s not exactly sure what to say, so he takes his seat beside you in silence, but not without a small smile decorating his face. The notes he had taken down to show you are retrieved from his bag, as well as his laptop. There’s a low screech of your chair dragging across the floor, and he turns to find you’ve scooted closer and you're leaning forward with your cheek resting on your palm, eyes intently looking at his research. 

“It isn’t much. I’m sure whatever you found is much more substantial, but I couldn’t show up empty handed.” Jisung explains, sliding the paper over to you. As your eyes scan the page, you make a few comments along the lines of ‘Oh, this is a good point,’ or ‘We should mention this.’

You seem to be very carefully reading his work. Meanwhile, he takes advantage of your preoccupation to let his eyes rake over your person. 

The first thing he notices is that you’re wearing a different cardigan, and he suddenly remembers your black one is still on his desk, unwashed and covered in his cum. Your hair looks soft, and when you mindlessly swing it over your shoulder, he catches a whiff of your lavender scented hair wash, and it makes him gnaw the inside of his cheek. You’re not quite close enough for him to catch the perfume you’ve decided to wear tonight, though he can vividly picture the gentle florals that linger still on your cardigan. His eyes trail down, and it’s only then that he notices your skirt—or blatantly, the length of your skirt. Your smooth thighs are exposed, full and fleshy and pressed together, and he suddenly wishes they were wrapped around his head. 

“Jisung? You okay?” 

“I–Yeah, sorry.” It’s clear that you’ve noticed his staring, and he all but rips his eyes away in embarrassment, “I was just wondering if you were cold,” He gestures down at your legs shyly, pretending the content he’d written on the paper was more interesting the sight of your plush thighs. 

For a moment he expects some harsh comment or outburst, but you laugh instead, smoothing the material down a bit, “No, not in here, at least. And the walk over was short, so,” His lips are pursed and his cheeks are burning, but you spare him from any further humiliation when you reach across him to turn the page over and quietly gasp, muttering some surprise under your breath at how extensive his work is. “This is really good. We can use pretty much all of it.” 

Failing to hide his beaming at your praise, he snaps his head over to you, “You think so?” 

“Yeah, I mean—,” The screen of your laptop changes over to a page of notes, “I pretty much wrote down all the same things. I’m actually so relieved, I was worried I might get paired up with someone who wasn’t gonna contribute.” 

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t switch out of the class now, huh?” 

Distracted in the notes and in the taste of his coffee, he misses your quick, confused glance his way. Smoothly recovering before he notices, you slowly nod and present to him the layout where you had already taken the liberty to assign him his designated parts. Not that he expected anything else; it’s endearing to see his name labeled over specific sections, color-coded in a blue, bolded font. He wastes no time in pulling up the screen of his computer, exchanging emails with you so the two of you can get to work on the shared document.

The time passes quicker than he hopes, and he realizes just how much he likes spending time with you. Talking with you online is one thing, but sitting beside you as you sip your drink and hum mindlessly, fingers typing away or flipping pages in a book? Completely different game. He’s sure that if it wasn’t because he relieved himself earlier today, he might have popped a boner from the simple act of being in your presence. 

Every once in a while, you make an occasional comment regarding a point or two you thought was worth mentioning or adding, and he’d oblige, making a note of it and sharing his thoughts here and there. Occasionally, he manages to steal a look at your thighs, which he swears you’re bouncing and squeezing together on purpose, but for the most part he keeps his focus on the task at hand. 

Towards the end of the night, there’s a moment where your hands brush his as you point something out on his screen, and Jisung swears he’s never felt more like a teenage boy in his life. He practically flinches at the contact, failing to mask his awkward reaction and pretending he really meant to fix his hair.

Bidding you farewell is possibly the most difficult of the tasks this evening, even more so than pretending he isn’t completely infatuated with and aroused by you for a whole two hours. When you stand from your seat and walk with him out of the study room, and subsequently, out of the library and into the cold, Jisung faces another of his many dilemmas related to you. He’s not sure if he should offer to walk you back to your dorm, or at the very least halfway there. Perhaps, offering you his jacket would be appropriate, since your skirt wasn’t doing much of a job at keeping you warm. 

“You live close by?” 

“Yeah! Just a 5 minute walk,” you point your index finger, “In that dorm right over there.” 

Jisung nods once, then decides to indulge his impulses. “Here,” he slides his hoodie off with a little less coordination than he would’ve liked, holding it out for you to take, “so you aren’t cold.” 

He can’t tell if your cheeks are red from the temperature again or from his gesture, but he hopes it’s the latter. The moment you take his sweater, pretty eyes wide in thanks, he sucks in a breath. It’s much chillier now that the sun is gone, and he fights the urge to chatter his teeth when he offers you a lopsided smile. 

“T-thank you,” you tie the sleeves around your waist, covering your lap. 

 “I’ll see you in class?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod, flashing him a final grin before you spin on your heel to head home. 

The twenty-minute-walk-fifteen-minute-jog back to his room feels eternal. All of his hair is standing on end, but picking up his pace too much means that the icy wind, which has so graciously decided to blow in his direction, would just become harsher. His palms soak up the little warmth on his stomach, tucked under his t-shirt, as he alternates between speed-walking and jogging. The minutes drag on and on until finally, his building comes into view and he breaks into a run. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The following morning when he walks into his astronomy class, he follows his usual routine of checking for you in your seat and is almost distraught when he finds it to be empty. It’s not like you to miss a class, and he contemplates reaching for his phone to check-in on you. It isn't until he pans his vision over to his own chair that he spots you. You’re accompanied by Karina and her partner, Heesung, taking up the empty seats beside his own. 

On your desk sit two coffee cups like the ones from last night, and he pulls his lip between his teeth to hide the grin that fights to break out.

You look up when you spot him, and Karina and Heesung look up, too. 

“Hi…” 

“Hi! Jisung, right?” Karina extends her hand out and he takes it, nodding to confirm, “I’m Karina and this is Heesung.” He mumbles another small hello to the boy, who acknowledges him before looking back at his computer.

“Good morning,” you greet as he sits, placing his cup on his desk. “You never told me whether you liked it or not, but I figured you’d grow to like it eventually.”

“I-thanks but,” 

“I know: Didn’t have to, but I wanted to. So just say thanks, yeah?” 

There’s a familiar burning on his cheeks that always seems to make an appearance when you’re around, but he doesn’t bother masking it this time. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would be free to study tonight?” 

Instantly, he bobs his head up and down, and you book the study room on your computer just moments before Professor Hwang strides inside the classroom, her glasses on the tip of her sharp, pointed nose. 

•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ

The frat house where the seniors stay is practically next door to Jisung’s dormitory, which is why when Mark, Chenle, and Jeno come banging on his door on Saturday night, he realizes he can’t use walking so far in the cold as an excuse to stay home. He also can’t use studying as an excuse anymore, since Mark had already caught him leaving the dorm a few times throughout the week to go study with you. That, and he ran into Jeno as he was entering the library just the night before. 

“You’ve been studying plenty,” they’d say, or “We told you about the party last week, no way you’re not going.” 

Anyway—the point is, he’ll have to endure tonight, despite his wishes to stay close to his PC for the chance that you’d want to hop into a game. He’d prefer to spend the night talking with you, but that’ll just have to wait until tomorrow. With a somber look on his face, he shrugs on a jacket and opens the door for his friends, who practically drag him outside. 

Jeno slings his arm over the taller boy’s shoulders as if to prevent him from fleeing, and the four of them climb down the stairs and onto the path toward the frat. If Jisung strains his ears, he can already pick up on the sounds of the party, even from here. 

“You think Chaewon will be there?” Mark asks no one in particular, but the boys all respond simultaneously with groans of distaste. 

“You dated her three semesters ago, why do you care?” Chenle starts, “isn’t she seeing Jungwoo now, anyway?”  

“That’s exactly why I care,” Mark grumbles, foot kicking a rock along the pavement. “He’s one of the RAs. If he’s there—” 

“He’s always there,” Chenle interjects, earning a glare. 

“—then she’ll be there, too.” 

“So, what happened with… what’s her name,  Minjeong? Why don’t you hang out with her?” 

“Nah,” He turns to Jeno, “She’s sweet and all, but I found out from Giselle that her and Chaewon are friends, so,” 

There’s a chorus of understanding, albeit a bit pitiful, “aah’s” and “oh’s” as the building comes into view. A few people are gathered at and around the entrance while others litter the parking lot with phones and solo cups in their hands as they wait for friends. Among them, and Jisung has to do a double take to make sure, he spots Karina, who waves someone down from the direction of the main courtyard. For a moment, he thinks it might be you who appears from between the treeline, but it’s Heesung who jogs over to meet her and he realizes how silly his thought was in the first place. 

In the months he’s known you, you’ve never once brought up a party. In retrospect, you don’t seem like the type to like partying at all. He can picture you clearly now, tearing through textbooks or novels for your literature class, or maybe even typing away to him on Discord and asking if he was online. 

He isn’t and can’t be tonight, and he’s very sorry about that, for the record. 

Maneuvering through the crowd of tipsy college students isn’t too difficult,and neither is their entry. The door is propped open, and Jaehyun, with his signature snapback that he wears backwards on his dark hair, calls them over from the drink bar. 

“First problem I see here,” he starts, “is that none of you have a cup in your hand.” 

“We’ve barely made it through the door, man,”  Mark laughs, clapping up Jaehyun and moving aside so he can greet the rest of the guys. 

“That’s no excuse, you should be sipping on something by now.” He waves his arm, “Take a look around, boys! This is what life is gonna look like for you guys next year—and the year after for you, Jisung.” 

Jisung gives a curt, disinterested nod amidst being handed some fruity, fizzy, white claw resemblant that probably wouldn’t taste much different from an Alka-Seltzer. He cracks it open upon being prompted to by Jaehyun, who initiates a “cheers” between the friend group. The moment the alcohol touches his tongue, Jisung grimaces, taking a few long chugs in hopes that the effect will kick in quicker and make the long night that awaits him a little less long. 

“Do you know if Chaewon is here?” 

Wordlessly, Jaehyun fixes his cap and points a single finger toward the couch, where Chaewon sits besides Jungwoo, leaning in to hear him over the music and giggling at whatever he says in her ear. The boys look over at the couple, then quickly glance back at Mark, whose face falls despite the fact that he knew to expect this. 

“Tough,” Jeno gives him a pat on the shoulder, “Hope you have better luck the rest of the night. I’ve gotta bounce,” 

“Yo, what do you mean bounce?” 

He gestures toward a girl standing near the beer pong table, who looks slightly familiar to Jisung, though he can’t quite put his finger on it, and smirks, “She smiled at me the moment we walked in. I’ll see you later, but I honestly hope I don’t.” 

The realization that his friends, in search of their hook-ups for the night, would eventually be abandoning him one-by-one kicks in just then, inviting Jisung to down the rest of his bubbly drink in one go. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “You ever notice Jeno is always the first one to get a girl?” His comment earns a few hums of agreement.

“I’m gonna go find Jaemin,” with his phone clutched in his hand, Chenle turns towards the door, “he just texted me he’s outside with Sullyoon and her friend.” 

“Wait, Jaemin is—he’s setting you up and not me?” Chenle only shrugs at Mark’s question, replying with a blunt and concise “yeah.” 

“I’m not a dog like Jeno though, so I’ll definitely see you guys later.” 

As if noticing he was facing the same unfortunate fate as Jisung, Mark turns to the youngest boy with a fearful look in his eyes. Jisung only shakes his head and takes a quick look around, “I’m not planning on hooking up with anyone here, so…” At this, the boy sighs in relief, handing Jisung another drink in solidarity. The two lean against the counter as Jaehyun looks between them, snorting. 

“Mark, there’s so many girls here.” 

“I know, but—” 

“But Chaewon.” 

Mark nods, echoing Jaehyun in a quiet, maybe even embarrassed voice, “But Chaewon…” 

“Don’t worry, I get it,” he adds sympathetically, “I’m caught up on my ex, too.” 

“Uh…” there’s a pause. “Which one?” This comment lands Mark a shove, playful, for the most part. He rubs his shoulder and hisses while Jaehyun, on the other hand, sloshes around the little liquid left in his cup and grabs the closest bottle of alcohol to him, along with whichever random mixer he finds first.

“The only one that really mattered.” He tilts his newly filled red cup back to drink from it, but his eyes peek over the rim and he pulls it from his lips to sigh out,  “Speak of the devil and she doth come,” he raises his brows and announces, “there she is now.” 

Following his line of sight, Jisung trails his vision toward the front entrance and at once, the sight makes each and every one of his limbs seize up. There’s a twisting and turning in his stomach that almost invites the seltzer he chugged to make a reappearance, and he’s pretty sure the color has drained from his face as he watches you walk inside the frat house behind Karina and Heesung. 

So many things go through his mind in such a short amount of time that he fears he may have had some sort of out-of-body experience or hallucination episode; it wasn't really you he was seeing, it couldn’t be. The way your skirt clings to your hips makes him grip his cup tighter within his sweating palm, and the lacy, corset top you’ve decided to wear, which shows off a tasteful bit of cleavage, causes him to swallow down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue. 

It was a more provocative outfit than he’d even seen you wear, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, he’s sure he would’ve instantly become bricked up. 

“And of course she’s wearing that shirt…” Jaehyun fixes his cap for the second time tonight and straightens out his shirt, “Alright, wish me luck.” 

It’s not like Jisung would have interjected anyway, he didn’t really have the grounds to, but he couldn’t even entertain the thought before Jaehyun headed in your direction with decisive confidence. Part of him hopes he was referring to someone else as his ex, perhaps even Karina, since there isn’t another girl in your immediate vicinity besides her, but his bit of hope is crushed as he spots Heesung’s hand intertwined in hers. Surely, Jaehyun wouldn’t be coming up to her if she showed up with someone to his party. It leaves him to reach his regretful conclusion just as his friend and you make eye contact, recognition flashing across your features, along with something else. 

Unable to torture himself further by watching your exchange, Jisung tears his eyes away and grabs another drink to make this very, very long night ahead of him somewhat bearable. He turns to Mark, who he didn’t even realize had been talking this whole time, but the loud music and the cloudiness in his mind muffle out his speech. 

“—I mean this just sucks! I guess we still have each other, maybe we can find some girls who—” 

When did you even date Jaehyun? You hadn’t mentioned him once in the months he had known you. And also, why  did you date Jaehyun? Not that there was anything wrong with him, other than his habit of cycling through girls every semester. Mark’s “Which one?” comment had some truth to it, but he would have never expected you to have been on Jaehyun’s roster. It takes him a second to remember that Jaehyun is still his friend, but even then, he can’t fight the bitterness that settles in his bones. What did he mean when he said that you were the only one that mattered? How significant was your relationship with him? There’s too many questions circling his mind, and it isn’t until he downs the fifth drink that they start to blur. 

Currently, he’s passing the time conversing with Mark and following him around the party, but more importantly, avoiding you in fear he’ll steal a glance and you’ll be locking lips with your ex. He spots Jaehyun by the bathroom a bit into the night, but thankfully, you aren’t near him. It’s in the middle of a beer pong game with Mark when he dares to glance around in search of you. 

First, he spots Karina and Heesung, making out on the couch where Chaewon and Jungwoo once sat. You aren’t near them. Then he spots Jaemin and Chenle dancing with the girls they had met up with, but you aren’t dancing, either. 

He’s relieved to find you aren’t with Jaehyun when he spots him, finding instead that his friend is flirting it up with a different girl who is certainly not you. The sight completely pisses him off, and somehow makes him feel immense relief simultaneously. Right around this time, he decides he’s had more than enough of the party. You aren’t here anymore, and Jaehyun’s face is making him fucking sick. Mark is slurring his speech enough that he wouldn’t notice if Jisung just slipped, so he does just that, though he does make sure to mention to Chenle that he’s leaving on his way out so he can keep an eye on Mark.  

Outside, the cold is unbearable. The previously crowded lot is empty for the most part, except for a few people puffing clouds of smoke into the air by a bench. Not even the alcohol in his system is enough to warm him up, so he can’t even imagine how a joint could be worth sitting outside for.

The only other person sitting outside is squatted down by the curb with their knees curled up to their chest. As the autumn leaves crack under Jisung’s feet, they turn their head around. 

“I told you I don’t wanna—Jisung?” 

Your big eyes widen in his direction, and you shoot up from the ground. Jisung’s brow lowers in concern and he notices the only thing you have to cover up is a flimsy cardigan. You and your damn, flimsy cardigans. 

“What are you doing out here?” 

“Sorry for snapping I—sorry,” you shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind blows through, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I thought you were someone else.” 

There isn't a sliver of hesitation before Jisung shrugs off his leather jacket and begins to wrap it around you, grumbling, “Are you crazy? You must be freezing,” 

“I’m fine—“ 

“This should help,” 

“But- Jisung, how many of your jackets am I gonna take—” 

“As many as you need to.” Your lack of a response makes him look back up to meet your eyes, round and much warmer than the rest of you was right now. He clears his throat, guiding your sleeves into the arms of the jacket as he jokes, “or until you bring your own.” 

You smile, muttering a small ‘thank you’ as the warmth engulfs you, along with the smell of him and some cheap cologne only a college student would buy. He’s tugging the collar closer to cover up your exposed neck and chest, eyes flickering down at your bare skin despite being well aware that you’re looking. Where this newfound boldness came from tonight, he doesn’t know. What he does know is that his boldness is always rather short-lived when it comes to you, and tends to appear and disappear like random spurts of energy—he’ll take advantage of it this once. Especially now that he knows you’re Jaehyun’s ex and the most he might even get to do is gawk at you, he intends to make it worth it. 

“You must be freezing now, though,” you start, “should we go somewhere warm?” 

“How about the library?” 

You laugh, looking at him in disbelief, “The library isn’t open at this time, much less on the weekend,” “Right…” 

“Wanna go to mine?” Your suggestion makes his breath hitch for a second, but he manages to respond with decent clarity. 

“You live by the library, though. That’s like a half-hour walk. I don’t think you’ll make it that far without turning into an icicle,” 

“Well, I don’t really wanna go back inside…” he knows why, so he offers something else. 

“My dorm is five minutes away. We could go there if you want, b-but if you’d rather go somewhere else—”

“Okay,” you nod eagerly, “let’s go.” 

As Jisung leads the way, speed-walking to beat the chill that spreads through his newly uncovered limbs, he turns his face to you, watching as you tuck the lower half of your face into his coat. 

“I don’t know if you want to work on the project or—” 

“God no,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I’m not that much of a buzzkill, dude.” You jog a little to catch up to his longer strides, “Besides, I have like three shots of Pink Whitney in me,” 

“Foul.” 

“I know. Can’t think about a project right now,” 

“I’ve had a bit to drink, too.” he admits.

“I can tell. You’re stumbling.” 

He snaps his head around, down to his feet, then back to you. “What? Am I?” 

There’s a small, stupid smile on your face as you shake your head. “No.”

He can’t pinpoint why this banter with you is so easy, why it feels so right. Or perhaps, he can, but regardless, his heart leaps in his chest as he scoffs, not fighting the shit-eating grin that spreads on his frosted cheeks. 

"It’s that building right over there,” he points.

“You weren’t kidding when you said it was close,”

The two of you climb the stairs and he opens the main door for you, watching you sigh out in bliss as you step into the warmth of the hall. You bounce around in a cute way that once more tugs at his heart-strings, still looking all puffed up and adorable in his jacket that entirely engulfs your frame. He leads you up another flight of stairs and onto the floor his room is at, and once the two of you stop in front of his door, he pats his jean pockets. 

“Oh my uh- my keys are in the pocket of the jacket.” 

You mimic his recent action, patting around until you find his keys, holding them out for him to take. 

Somewhat awkwardly, he fumbles with them until he manages to fit it into the lock, opening the door with one hand. He gestures for you to enter his room with a small shrug, “Make yourself at home.” 

As you step inside, Jisung makes it a point to quietly thank whatever higher power compelled him to make his bed this afternoon. The rest of his room wasn’t perfectly organized by any means, but at the very least, his bed, which you now sat at the foot of with your legs bouncing, was neatly made. 

“You have your own room?” You mutter in surprise as you look around the small space and notice the lack of a second bed. The tall boy beside you just shrugs again, toeing off his shoes in the corner as he pulls the door closed. 

“Yeah, uh… I’m one of the RAs for the sophomore class.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, “I wish! I mean, I love sharing a room with Karina, but it’s nice to have space for myself sometimes.” 

“That’s why you’re always at the library?” 

You nod, sliding your palms across his duvet, “It’s nice and quiet,” your fingers move to grip and release the material, and he blinks harshly to erase the sight of that from his mind before it causes him to spiral. It didn’t prove to be very useful, though, because your still-exposed thighs move and press together, just as they did at the library, and his dick gives a little twitch in response.

“I’ll get you some clothes to change into, that way you’re more comfortable.” he decides, more for his sake than yours. You don’t answer, continuing to look around, taking in the details of his computer that flashes in a bunch of different colors. 

“You know I gave up extra storage in my bedside table to be able to keep my PC? I let Karina take it to her side of the room so I’d have space for my setup.” 

Rummaging through his drawers, he pipes up, “you game?” as if it wasn’t something he already knew about you. 

“I love it. I stayed here for most of the summer just because I had my computer here.”  

Jisung picks out a pair of sweats for you and one for himself, along with a t-shirt he knows he recently washed, then he turns, handing it over to you. “I’ll change in the bathroom down the hall and then wait outside. You can crack the door open when you’re done,” 

“Thank you, Jisung.” 

There’s a gentle sincerity in your tone that makes him wanna say “anything for you,” but he settles for pursing his lips instead, leaving to let you change before he can embarrass himself with any baseless comment you wouldn’t really get. The effect of the drinks still hadn’t completely faded, and he fears he’s capable of saying just about any of his stupid thoughts out loud right about now. 

You weren’t completely sober either, not by any means. The trashy vodka your ex offered you in an attempt to reconcile was as bitter as the end of your relationship with him, and it was flowing through your veins and giving you that light-headed buzz. You stand up and slip off your boots and Jisung’s jacket, along with your skirt. Your top requires a bit more precision, the lace getting twisted and tangled in your uncoordinated fingers. There’s little huffs and puffs of frustration that leave your lips during your struggle, and you’d almost consider asking for help if it wasn’t completely inappropriate. 

Finally, though, you manage to get it off and slip on the change of clothes Jisung has so graciously provided. They’re warm and they smell good, and they’re much more comfortable than your outfit which is now folded on Jisung’s gaming chair, alongside your purse. 

When you look up in admiration of his impressive keyboard, which looks to be custom made, and your eyes trail up to his monitor, you notice something on the corner of the screen. The mindless doodle you had drawn beside your phone number that day in class had been very carefully cut out and stuck onto his screen with tape. 

“You okay?”

His voice calls from outside, quietly as if not to disturb you even though it’s you who is occupying his room. 

“Yeah, I’m almost done!”

“I thought that she was gonna assign them on Friday?”

Sung had asked you that on call, in regards to the constellation project you mentioned you wanted to start working on. Not Jisung, Sung. Sung, who is not in your astronomy class and would have had no way of knowing when or even what your professor would be assigning. 

“You’re Ji-sun, right?” 

“—Sung.”

The nickname sounded very right coming from his lips, from his voice. You never gave his nickname too much thought, because truly, Sung could just be a display name. And if it is his real name, it could stand for anything: Sungmin, Sungwoo, Daesung, Ilsung, Jaesung… Jisung. 

And then, you recall the time you spoke on the phone—specifically, the time you had to do a double take at your screen to make sure you hadn’t actually called Sung. It was the first time you had spoken to Jisung on the phone, and it’s the only way you had even spoken to Sung… something about it seemed so, so strangely familiar. 

Could it be… 

“Alright, I’m done!” Your announcement comes after the realization that he’s been waiting outside for a few minutes already. 

“Coming in…” He warns, eyes still cast to the ground in case you weren’t decent. They slowly make their way up, and something flashes across his features at the sight of you. You try to ignore it, still preoccupied by your growing suspicions. His computer is on… meaning…

“Let me let Karina know I left… I kinda just walked out on her.” 

Jisung nods and takes a cautious seat on his bed a few feet away from you. 

As you open the discord app on your phone, you scroll to the top to find his contact and type out a simple Hi, clicking send with your heart beating faster than usual. It’s an impulsive act, but you can’t help yourself. If there’s even a chance… 

Instantly, his screen lights up and through his headphones you hear the familiar chime of the notification coming in. 

“I knew it! I fucking knew it!” 

If it’s possible, Jisung’s face grows even paler than it already was naturally, and even more gloom than it appeared earlier in the night when he identified you as Jaehyun’s ex. All of his features are alert and in shock, watching as you spin around to face him. 

“Sung? Right? That’s you?” 

He’s struggling to read your expression, and it’s beyond obvious. The only change in his demeanor is the now tensed up shoulders and the redness that takes over the white on his cheeks. 

“I—” Are you mad? Should he apologize?

“Did you know all this time? That it was me, I mean?” 

He nods slowly, unable to find the appropriate words to say. 

Two things happen just then. First, your hand smacks his arm, hard. “You fucking idiot!” and Second, you topple into his arms, hugging him. Initially, his hands hesitate to wrap around you, hovering above your waist as you squeeze his neck. 

“You’re not mad?” He asks shyly. You shake your head against him, then lift off with your hands on his shoulders to take a real good look at his face. 

“No! I’m so glad, I thought I was going crazy. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He shrugs again, a gesture he seems to do a lot around you. 

“Since when did you know it was me?” 

“Since I heard you speak on the very first day in class. I recognized your voice.” 

Your eyes soften at this small confession, and you look back towards his desk, “So, this is where you were this whole time while we played? This close? A twenty-minute walk away?” You shoot up from the bed and cross the small distance to the desk, swiping an index finger along the surface, then his mouse, then his keyboard, and all of his other equipment. Your eyes are beaming, looking around and familiarizing yourself with his things. All the things you wondered about him are now laid out in front of you, and it’s exhilarating. 

“I was so excited when I found out,” 

“You should’ve told me,” you repeat, still taking in his pictures and personal items, your profound curiosity surfacing within you. 

“I was worried about making a good first impression, you’re…” 

“I’m…?” you press, turning to him for a moment. 

“You’re really pretty in person.” 

In that moment when you turn away to hide your blush, with the words “you’re really cute in person, too” ready to spill from your tongue in a sweet and shy whisper, a small black pile on the corner of his dresser catches your eye. 

“What’s that—” 

“Oh nothing! It’s just—” 

“Is that my cardigan?” 

Forget distraught, forget embarrassed, forget every possible synonym for the word humiliation. Not a single one would do what he’s feeling in this moment even a sliver of justice. Jisung is convinced his soul has left his body, that he’s passed on or that the ground has swallowed him whole. In fact, he’d prefer it that way. He has never felt more panic in his life as you quickly approach the cum-stained cardigan that he took from you, that he pleasured himself with countless times, that he still hasn’t washed…

“You dropped it in class, and I-I meant to give it back to you, you know, a-after I washed it, but then—” 

As you turn the material over in your hands, taking note of and examining the stains, Jisungs breath completely cuts off. You spin slowly on your heel, facing him. There’s an unreadable expression on your face, and it takes every bit of the little pride he has left to not squeeze his eyes shut. 

“Are these—” His voice is no more than a sputtering squeak, “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. Fuck, you must think—” 

“Jisung.” 

“I didn’t mean to keep it for so long, or-or at all, really, it’s just—”

“Jisung.” He’s pretty sure you can hear him gulp. “Were you using my cardigan to get off?” 

“I-” 

“Were you?” You ask sternly. 

He sucks in a breath, unable to look at you any longer as the faintest of yeses leaves his pouty lips. 

There’s a moment of silence. A terribly long, excruciating moment of silence where Jisung can think of no way to make this up to you. He’s beyond ashamed, palms clasped together and sweating, face red with horror, inside of his cheek clamped tightly between his teeth, the whole nine miles. So much for mulling over how he’d reveal who he was to you, and so much for all the overthinking he did, all the times he planned out exactly what to say to you and how. Now, it’s all coming to an end because of this damned cardigan. He should’ve just washed it and given it back to you after the first time—no, he shouldn’t have used it at all. His mind is filled with thoughts of everything and nothing at the same time, and he’s already beginning to mourn the loss of your friendship when you say the unthinkable: 

“Show me.”

*. * ·

taglist: @heartlvrrss @albedoloser @zp00ks @simpforarmihn @toroufriteh @quokkatss @jising-jisang-jisung @camstqr @tangerinehyuck @ma-riiii @minlvrpage @hancafe

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my fat ass relates

so good !!

OUR SUMMER- jake sim x reader

SYNOPSIS- after 4 long years, this was the end. This was the last summer before everyone went off to university , and to fully honor it, you all decide to make a bucket list, completing every point through the entirety of summer while also discovering feelings that were hidden for so long.

PAIRING- jake sim x fem!reader

GENRE- teen romance, friends to lovers, summer fling?, fluff, highschool/college au, oneshot

WORDCOUNT- 8k

WARNINGS- sexual jokes, alcohol use, underage drinking, suggestive content (no smut tho)!

PERM TAGLIST (and normal taglist)- @bubblytaetae @qghosty @viagumi @strwberrydinosaur @enhacolor @rendezrei @shinsou-rii @notrosemary @tocupid

You knew this was the last summer. You knew because after 13 hard, long and excruciating years of education, Jake finally got accepted into his dream college, leaving you alone in this sad, miserable town. 

As he was about to move on, live a happy, fresh, new life at university, you were going to be left all alone with your feelings for him. 

It was sad. But while he was here, you tried to enjoy every moment spent together.  It was also extremely hard to not just fly into his arms and tell him how much in love you really are. But your brother was always watching. He was always there. 

Lee Heeseung, your brother who you swore you hated, was the reason you got to meet Jake in the first place. They met in freshman year, when Heeseung decided to take soccer more seriously and actually pursue that career path. He would notoriously make fun of Jake for having pictures of soccer players plastered all over his walls. That's when Heeseung, Jake, Jay and Sunghoon became an inseparable friend group, doing quite literally everything together. 

You remember everything so well. You still laugh about the time when they watched The Conjuring, and got so incredibly scared, they couldn't even go to the toilet alone. Heeseung, being the oldest, would be some sort of watcher, bodyguard, standing still in front of the bathroom doors, as all of them took turns using the toilet. As disgusting as it was, it's a fond memory for both you and them. 

Heeseung used to always complain about you tagging along with them since you were a year younger than all of them, constantly latching onto them, but he got used to it. Jake was the only one who would always invite you in the beginning, and fight with Heeseung whenever complaints started spewing from his mouth. That was probably the first thing that made you fall for him. 

Heeseung chose a college in town, deciding to do pedagogics on the side while he still pursued his soccer career. Jay and Sunghoon also chose a college nearby, only one town away, meaning the three of them would always be here. 

Jake on the other side had some sick ambitions. When he set his mind on UCLA, he did everything in his power to get in. There was nothing wrong in that, but how could he leave them? How could he leave you? 

"Let's make a bucket list" Jay said as all of you, plus your best friend, Yunjin, hogged the living room couch in Jake's house. 

Another reason you didn't want Jake to leave. That damn couch. Everything in the 4 years of your friendship probably happened or started on that couch. 

"We make one every summer" Heeseung said, shoving some popcorn into his mouth "And always end up freestyling it" he added unclearly, hence all the food in his mouth. 

"You're disgusting," Yunjin inquired, pointing out Heeseung's disgusting habit. 

He just mumbled a 'fuck you' in response and shoved another handful into his mouth. 

"But this summers different, '' Jay said, reminding you once again that this was the last truly youthful summer your friend group would share. 

You knew very well that everything would change when they went away to college. Obviously, they could come home for summer, but new friends, a buzzing, new, shiny social life were only a couple of reasons for them to not visit so often when summer comes around next year. The adult life they were about to step into was only gonna allow them to finally party all night long, go on road trips across the country and meet people who they would prefer to spend all their time with. So Jay was right, this summer was different, cause it was the last one. 

"I'm down" Jake said, grabbing a pen and paper from the drawer. He passed it to Jay, who wrote a big, and definitely sloppy, 'OUR SUMMER'. 

"Skydiving" Sunghoon said excitedly, pitching in the first idea. 

"You know damn well" Yunjin said "Let's make it a tiny bit more realistic" Sunghoon just furrowed his eyebrows and continued to put on his thinking face. 

"Let's do a sleepover. You know, like the ones we'd do in our childhood. Blanket fort and all'' you said, turning your face to Jay, as he was the designated leader for this bucket list making. 

"I like that," Jake said, giving you a cheeky smile. 

You'd rather he be rude towards you than give you all these weird signals. None of the guys would  be as nice to you as he was. What man would agree with you on everything, bring you anything you wanted at any time, give you rides at the latest hour, handpick flowers for you on a random Wednesday and buy you things just because they reminded him of you, if he didn't like you like that. Yet still, you were too slow to catch on. 

"Sleepover. Blanket fort and all" Jay mumbled as he wrote down the first point to your list. "How about we drive down to that lake, get some beer, talk and shit?" he asked after he finished writing. 

"With your wackass, dodgy looking fake ID, I'm guessing" Yunjin said, laughing. 

"Give me some credit, it works every fucking time" Jay answered, pulling it out from his pocket. 

"Okay James Blunderbuss, write it down" Heeseung, said examining the ID "Anton really did you wrong with that last name" 

"Blackout drunk at Hanbin's birthday party" Sunghoon pleaded, pushing Jay to quickly write that down. 

"Do you really need an excuse to get drunk that bad?" you asked, and Sunghoon hurriedly nodded his head. You laughed and told Jay to write it down. 

"Kiss at least 20 sexy ladies," Heeseung said, puckering his lips. 

"No way" Jake shaked his head "You can go be a slut on your own" 

"Write down kiss Heeseung’s sister for Jake, cause I know he wants to so bad" Sunghoon laughed, emphasizing the 'so' part. 

Jake playfully pushed him with his elbow, visibly getting red. You tried to laugh it off, but deep down you knew how bad you wanted it, unlike Jake, who took it as a funny joke. 

"Let's do an early Secret Santa" Yunjin said. 

"Yo, that's gonna be dope. I'm gonna get you that pink vibrator we saw at the store yesterday" Sunghoon said, turning to Heeseung. They honestly thought it was so hilarious. 

"Not sure that's how it works, but i'll write Secret Santa down" Jay said

You all brainstormed ideas for the next hour. Some were honestly pretty bad, but the time you spent coming up with the list, will always be a good memory to you. 

*** 

Near the end of May, in a room eloped in extreme heat, covered with sheets that clanged onto your skin, with a faulty air conditioner running that tried to keep up with the temperature, your phone buzzed. 

Pulling you out of a trance, you quickly grabbed it hoping it was your delivery man, yet Jake's name decorated your home screen. It was getting late, the night crawling closer and closer, so the notification surprised you. You unlocked your phone hurriedly, wanting to see his message as fast as possible. 

Jake: You wanna go on a drive in an hour? 

If your brother wasn't home you'd honestly scream. 

What had gotten into him? You've been trying to send him signals for the past four years, and suddenly after all that time he'd picked up on them? Or was he just trying to be friendly, knowing well he wouldn't be here next year. 

You quickly replied with a 'sure' and got up to get yourself looking as pretty for him as possible. Maybe it was a little sad, the fact you were trying so hard for a man who didn't care, but it made you happy. 

"What you getting all dolled up for?" Heeseung laughed as he stood in your doorway. 

"Going out with Yunjin" you mumbled, delicately applying your lip tint. 

"In a miniskirt and full beat on your face? You ain't slick young lady" he pointed out. 

"We're taking photos for Insta. And this really isn't a miniskirt" you came up with yet another lie. 

You honestly had no idea why you were lying to him. He probably wouldn't bat an eye if you just said you're going out with Jake. He's too dumb to even think twice about it. 

"Can you just get out?" you turned to him, motioning for him to leave your room. 

He put his hands up chuckling, and closed your door. 

Your phone buzzed once again, signaling it was time for you to leave. 

He parked his car just around the street. Heeseung called him earlier asking to hangout, but he already had plans. With you. 

Obviously he couldn't tell Heeseung that, afraid your brother would blow up at him. If only he knew how dumb Heeseung really was when it came to stuff like this. He'd probably think you two are getting a surprise gift for him. 

"You look pretty" Jake smiled, as he got out to open the door for you. 

A light rosy tint decorated your cheeks, as you quietly thanked him. 

"Didn't you want to hangout with Hoon and Hee? I saw them playing Fifa when I was leaving" you asked the boy next to you. 

You couldn't help but stare at his face. He was so perfect in every way, so perfect you couldn't even put it into a cohesive sentence if you wanted to. 

"I'd rather hang out with my favorite girl," he smiled, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. 

"Woah okay, what about Rei then?" you questioned sarcastically. 

"You will never let that go, will you?" Jake laughed, reminiscing about his freshman year crush. 

"Well you were the one that couldn't stop yapping about her freshman year" you said, and he just put a finger to your lips, begging for you to stop talking about that embarrassing time in his life. 

Rei was a senior, and honestly you envied her so much back then. Even though she was so incredibly nice, you couldn't help but blame her for 'stealing your man'. 

"If you wanna talk so bad, we can talk about Jungwon" he inquired, turning the table on you. 

Jungwon was like your own Rei. Except this time, he was younger than you. 

"We really don't need to though" you pouted playfully. 

"Oh I really think we do though" he did the same "I was so jealous of him back then" he added with a small smile. 

"You were? Why?" you asked curious why The Jake Sim would be jealous of some random guy. 

The street lamps illuminated his face, making him shine brighter than ever. It still didn't feel real to you. Alone in a car with your older brother's best friend turned crush. 

"He was the only thing you talked about. I guess I just didn't really like that" he answered, a fabricated confidence evident in his tone. 

"Did you cry?" you asked with a pout. 

"Obvi" he answered with a wide smile, looking at you. "You're so pretty Y/n, I hope you know that. And Jungwon is an asshole for rejecting such a gorgeous girl" 

You believed he only said that to make you feel better about yourself, but it still made your insides swarm with butterflies. 

He had looked at you differently that day. Not different in a 'you really need to let me go' way, but a 'i wish we were something more' way. His demeanor had changed for everyday going forward, and you would lie if you said you didn't like it. 

***

"Why did Heeseung call me to ask if I'm hanging out with you?" Yunjin asked over the phone. 

She called you just minutes after Jake dropped you off home. 

"He wanted to check if I didn’t go hook up with some random guy probably" you answered, thanking god for such an intelligent best-friend that knew when to cover for you. 

"Well, were you hooking up with some random guy? Oh my god, please tell me it was Ricky, that senior" she asked “Or Song Eunseok! He’s so fucking sexy, to be honest” 

Yunjin had some odd obsession with Shen Ricky and Son Eunseok, seniors at your high-school. She loved finding people that she could treat as celebrities. 

"I wish. Jake just wanted to hang out, and I guess I didn't feel like telling him the truth" you answered, painting your nails a dark red color. 

"Did you two kiss?" Yunjin asked excitedly. 

She was the only one that knew about your feelings for Jake. She was pretty awful at keeping secrets but this is something she swore she'd take to the grave with her, unless you two didn't work out. 

"God no Yunjin, we didn't kiss. We just talked and got some food, nothing special" you answered chuckling. 

If only she knew how much you actually wanted to kiss him. His lips, so plump and soft, begging to be kissed. 

"If you ask me, I'd tell you to make a move on him," Yunjin said, voice calm. 

"I know, you've already told me that a million times. But you know he's going away, and even if somehow he did want me, it wouldn't work out with him being so far away" you honestly didn't believe in long distance relationships. How could one fully trust their significant other knowing he's thousands of miles away from you? 

"If anyone could make it work, it would be you two. But I don't want to pressure you into anything, just saying" she replied and you could feel the honesty in her tone. 

*** 

On the 8th of June, Sunghoon decided that the group needs to start preparing for Hanbin's birthday party and execute the second point of your shared bucket list. He's the only one that didn't mind getting sloshed on a random Thursday. 

"Do I really have to sit in the trunk?" Sunghoon asked, examining Jay's dirty trunk. 

"Count the seats in this car, and you'll have your answer" Jay replied, stuffing the blankets into the trunk "I'm even making it more comfortable for you" 

"Wow, thanks so much" Sunghoon mumbled, and with an angry expression got into the trunk. 

"You look like an idiot in there" Jake said walking out of his house with a various arrangement of everyone's favorite snacks "And I'm pretty sure that's illegal" 

"It's illegal only if they catch you" you said and covered Sunghoon with a thin white blanket. 

"That makes it so much less obvious" Jake laughed and got into the backseat of Jay's car "How's my baby doing in the back there?" he asked, turning around to take a look at Sunghoon. 

"Shut the fuck up" Sunghoon mumbled from under his blanket, and sticked out his middle finger. 

"I'm calling shotgun, Heeseung" Yunjin glared at the purple haired boy, and quickly sat on her reserved seat. 

"Are you really making me sit next to thing one and thing two over there" Heeseung asked his hand resting on the hood of the car in front of Yunjin. 

Yunjin just shrugged and connected her phone to the aux. Thank god she was the dj for this trip cause you wouldn't physically and mentally be able to handle two hours listening to 'Heeseung's handpicked UK drill mix'. 

Unlike others you liked the middle seat. It felt the closest to everyone in the car with great access to the beautiful view in front of the windshield. 

"If only Heeseung wasn't next to you" Jake whispered, as you sat down next to him. You smiled and playfully nudged his shoulder. 

"I can hear you" you heard Sunghoon's annoying voice behind you. You could also hear him playing the watermelon game. Sunghoon's screen time was for the most part that stupid game he wasn't even good at anyway. 

"First we have to hit up my good friend Yeonjun at the gas station. Please call me James Blunderbuss for now, I really need to get in the role" Jay announced as everyone already got comfortable in their designated seats. 

"No ones calling you that," Heeseung declared. 'James Blunderbuss' couldn't even get past your lips if you tried to. "Plus Yeonjun goes to our school you fucking dumbass" 

*** 

The dazzling, hot sun sets on your skin, a soft wind blows in your face as Jay opens up a bottle of beer for everyone. The cold glass cools you down. 

Something about this landscape and the surroundings was so refreshing and inviting. You've been here before, but this felt like a first. 

"Drink up fast Heeseung, we're playing spin the bottle" Sunghoon declares and takes a long sip of his beer. 

"You're a freak if you want me to kiss my own sister," Heeseung said with disgust in his voice. 

"Then you're not playing. More chances for me to kiss the beautiful ladies in front of me" Sunghoon beamed, and chugged down the rest of his bottle. 

"Can you sit or something for like one minute?" Jake asked, glaring at Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully and turned to Jay next with a pleading look in his eyes. 

"You fucking champ, chugged that bottle down like a pro. Good thing it was your last one for the next hour" Jay pouted, and continued scrolling through his playlist. 

"First y'all make me sit in the trunk, and now I can't even drink some beer in peace" Sunghoon grumbles, and lays down on the soft material of his blanket. 

"You going for a swim?" Jake turns to you, voice low. 

He didn't know what was happening to him. Ever since the realization hit him that this is your last summer together, he wanted to spend everyday with you. Even if you were to sit in complete silence, it's the fact that you're together which made his heart feel fuzzy and warm. 

You smiled and nodded "You want my beer Hoonie?" you asked Sunghoon who had already given up on his alcoholic dreams. His face lit up as he grabbed the bottle from you. 

Jake grabbed your soft hand, and dragged you towards the glistening water.

 You didn't exactly catch the moment when you fell for him. When you first saw a scrawny, Australian boy in your house, you well remember thinking he was just another one of Heeseungs dumb friends. Some things as simple as that made you question everything about your friendship with Jake. 

"Is it cold?" you asked, covering your eyes with the palm of your hand. Jake had already gotten in, and you'd noticed a slight disappointment in his expression. 

"A little. But I'll keep you warm if needed" he smiled and gestured for you to get in. 

You took off your blouse and pants quickly striding towards his toned figure. The water was indeed freezing (which was odd taking in account the warmth of that day), but Jake didn't let you get used to the temperature change, pulling you into his embrace as soon as you got close enough to him. 

"Is it that bad?" he asked with a wide smile. 

"Yeah, it is," you answered, your body trying to adjust to the water's temperature. 

His eyes were shining, tanned skin glowing under the sun's warm embrace. He had the brightest smile plastered on his face, and you just couldn't help but stare. 

"I wish you didn't have to go away," you hummed. 

"You are always welcome to come visit me in LA. Alone, with Yunjin, Heeseung, just hit me up" he replied calmly. 

You wondered how he could be so unbothered by this. He was about to embark on an individual journey, all alone in a big city, yet managed to remain calm. Or did he just not want to ruin it for everyone? 

"If you pay for my transport, sure" you gave him a small smile, and slowly started pulling him towards the land. 

"Anything for you" he replied, and you almost start to descend in the golden hope of his words. 

In a matter of 10 minutes, bottles managed to surround everyone on the sheer blanket. Jay, who was supposed to refrain from drinking, was tipsy beyond repair. Yunjin and Heeseung looked fine, Sunghoon was the problem. His alcohol tolerance was so bad that two beers managed to take him out. You wondered how he was going to survive Hanbin's long awaited birthday party. 

"I guess you'll have to drive tonight my boy" Heeseung beamed, turning his head towards Jake, and patting him on his his shoulder 

Jake just laid down on the blanket letting the hot ground and sun burn into his skin. 

He knew these were the last moments that he'd get to spend with everyone where everything will still be normal. Yes, he'd come back, his whole family is here, but it'd just be awkward and weird next summer. Everyone would have a different life, without one another. Next time, all of you will be different people. 

… 

“Who knew completing this bucket list would be so tiring,” Sunghoon said, throwing himself on the couch. 

It was the 13th of June. Today was the day everyone, especially Sunghoon, has been waiting for. Sung Hanbin’s 18th birthday party. 

So far you’ve completed only one thing, well unless someone has actually kissed ‘20 sexy ladies’, which you highly doubted. 

“Are you taking a piss, we’ve only done one thing” Jay answered angrily, looking Sunghoon up and down “Well unless Jake has finally kissed Y/n” he added with a slight laugh, looking over at you and Jake. 

Jake just rolled his eyes, and stuck his middle finger right into Jay’s face. 

“Can we seriously not talk about them, they’re disgusting,” Heeseung pleaded, hating the sudden romantic interest between you and Jake. He didn’t really take it seriously though. 

It seemed like everyone noticed something you two didn’t. Even though you’ve liked Jake for a while, you were fine with the fact that he would never reciprocate. But maybe you’ve just gotten so used to it, you couldn’t see through his actions. 

“Hanbin asked if we’re pulling up today,” Yunjin announced. 

“Why the fuck is my brother, my boy, my bae texting you and not me” Sunghoon suddenly rose from his comfortable position on the couch. 

“It’s because they’re fucking on the low” Heeseung answered, completely unbothered, scrolling through Youtube shorts on his phone. 

You knew very well that Hanbin and Yunjin have been talking for some time now, and to be completely honest, you thought everyone knew. But at the end of the day, you couldn’t really expect much from Sunghoon. 

“That’s bullshit, he prefers pretty girls” Sunghoon said smiling widely at Yunjin 

“Oh isn’t someone just so jealous I stole their boyfriend?” she answered, frowning sarcastically. 

Sunghoon just rolled his eyes and returned to his previous position. Yunjin laughed and since no one disagreed, she replied to Hanbin with a quick confirmation. 

“I can drive if y'all don't have a ride” Jake said, sitting next to you on the edge of the couch. Deep down he hoped Yunjin hadn’t already offered you a ride. 

“No thanks, I am not sitting in the trunk again” Sunghoon said, reminiscing on the back pain he had to endure after the lake trip. 

“As if I wanted to take you anyway” Jake replied, and turned his head towards you “What about you?” he asked, giving you a small smile. 

“Yunjin is already driving me. But you can come with us if no one needs a ride” you smiled, and he was about to say yes until an annoying voice filled the room. 

“My boy, who’s gonna go with you if not me?” Heeseung said, crushing Jake’s dreams in a second. 

Even though it wouldn’t be the two of you alone, the mere thought of watching you get ready, and walking into Hanbin’s house with you like you're all his, made him excited. His mind was making up the wildest scenarios, and he would lie if he said he didn’t like it. Something inside him has changed, and Jake had a seemingly hard time figuring it out yet. 

“Yeah sure” he nodded towards Heeseung, who was happy to score yet another free ride with Jake. 

….

“So what, are you gonna finally talk to Ricky or Eunseok, or is your precious little crush on Jakey holding you back again?” Yunjin asked, as the two were getting ready in your bathroom. 

You loved the girl but her nagging was like a punishment from the devil himself. She’s been begging you to ask out Shen Ricky or Song Eunseok ever since they just slightly smiled at you, or asked for your help. You never took any of those things seriously, but she seemed to see the situation differently. 

“Yunjin honey, they are not interested in me. Plus, isn’t Eunseok dating Kazuha?” you asked, trying to turn the attention away from you knowing Yunjin loves gossip more than anything else, and she probably knew all about their breakup. 

“They broke up two weeks ago. She cheated on him or something” she answered “So he’s single and ready for you” she added with a cheeky smile. 

‘Yeah sure, sure. Well, I’m still waiting for Jake so it’s going to be a no” you responded, hoping she’d just let go of the whole Ricky Eunseok thing. 

“Y/n you’ve been waiting for him way too long. I think it’s time to move on, literally so many cuter boys have asked you out and you’ve turned them all down. I don’t want to say you’ve been missing out, but you kinda have been.” 

“I know, Yunjin. But something just tells me it’s not over yet. If he doesn’t ask me out this summer I promise I’ll hit up Eunseok, or Ricky, or Anton, whoever you want” you answered, another attempt to just end the topic all together. 

“God, not Anton. Isn’t he like a Con Artist or something?” 

…. 

As the long road came to an end, you had yourself double checking the address, cause no way in hell Sung Hanbin lived in an apartment complex so luxurious. Everything about it, from the bodyguard standing still in front of the large metal gates, or the tall, perfectly clean windows. 

“You sure this it?” you asked Yunjin. It was stupid, she’s probably been here more than anyone else in the past month. 

“Nah, I just drove all the way out here for fun” she chuckled, and unbuckled her seatbelt, stopping the car. 

Another car had just pulled up next to you, the radio turned up to a max, music spilling from it. You shook your head, expecting it to be Jake and the rest of your friends. 

“Wonbinnie!” Yunjin screamed, racing towards the black vehicle. 

Yunjin wasn’t the type of girl to commit to any relationships. She liked a quick hookup, or the feeling of having more than one boy pinning for her. In some way you envied her confidence and mindset. 

“Y/n!” you turned to see Eunseok’s gorgeous face yelling out to you. You smiled and quickly made your way towards him. 

You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t like Eunseok just a little bit. He was such a sweet and caring person. Sometimes you wished he wasn’t so nice and handsome at the same time. He gave you a short side hug, and a pretty smile. 

“How have you been? I heard you and Kazuha are through” you asked, hoping it wasn’t too early for those type of questions. 

You waved at Seunghan and Anton who were stood behind him. 

“Yeah, honestly I don’t really care” he laughed, and you could see it was genuine. You guessed they weren’t that serious after all “I see your date has left you already” he said, looking around the parking lot. 

You turned around to see that Yunjin, along with Wonbin, was completely gone. 

“Yeah, cause your fuckass friend took her. Doesn’t he know her and birthday boy have a thing going on?” you asked, pulling him towards the gates. 

“Everyone knows,” Seunghan inquired, walking right behind you. 

…

To be honest, you didn’t really know Hanbin. He was practically a stranger to you, never getting to really interact with him outside of school. Knowing Sunghoon and Jake, two of his best friends, made you feel at least a little closer to him. 

“Yoo, look who showed up” Hanbin cheered, holding a red solo cup in his hand, greeting Eunseok with the other “I hoped your annoying asses wouldn’t pull up” he laughed, his tone laced with alcohol. 

They just laughed and handed him a bottle of whiskey, you assumed that was their idea of a good gift. 

“Happy to finally meet you, Y/n” Hanbin smiled at you, and put his hands up, signaling you to hug him, since his hands were already full. “I thought you’d come with Jake. Kinda surprised to see you pull up with these weirdos” you two laughed, and you let go of him, handing him yet another gift bag. 

“Aren’t they here already?” you asked, looking around his place. 

“Nah, Sunghoon probably did some stupid shit already, and they’re running late again” you fully believed that was the reason, a flood of odd memories with Sunghoon coming back to you. 

“Yall can help yourself to anything, it’s all in the kitchen” Hanbin motioned all of you to the kitchen, a wide variety of beverages waiting to be digested. 

You decided to text the group chat, a little concerned as to where they all went. All you got in reply was a picture of Sunghoon sitting on the toilet, face red. 

“I’ll go look for Yunjin, see you guys around’ you turned to Eunseok, Seunghan and Anton smiling. 

“Y/n! Before you go, Jay told me you’d be interested in a fake ID, you know, for a pretty girl like you I can make it 30$. Just hit me up” he smiled, pulling out his own counterfeit document. 

‘Nicholas Flubbernoodle’ 

“Mhm, sure. I’ll text you” you smiled and left them in the kitchen. What was wrong with him, seriously. 

The dining room wasn’t so crowded, only a couple people keeping a conversation going while sipping on some liquor. Guess this was their escape from the lively living room. 

“Have you seen Yunjin anywhere?” you questioned the black haired boy who sat opposite from you.

“She was just here, I think,” Gunwook answered, not-so-helpfully “You want some?” he asked, pulling out a half empty bottle of Vodka. 

“Sure” you answered, tired from searching for the only person you fully knew here. 

“You’re with Jake, right? Yall cute or whatever” Gunwook said pouring you a cup of Vodka with cranberry juice. 

“Nah” you said taking a large sip “Not yet though” you added. 

“Damn you like him and shit? He don’t wanna ask you out though, huh?” he questioned. 

You laughed. It was such a simple concept yet Gunwook was finding it so hard to understand. Yet it did make your heart beat faster when he initially thought you and Jake were dating. You looked over at the already empty cup next to you on the wooden table.

“The king is finally here” a faint voice you knew very well screamed into the crowd next door. 

Sunghoon finally beat death in your house's bathroom, it seemed. 

“You finally came!” you beamed as Jake’s pretty face appeared in the door frame.

You pat down the stool next to you, and he happily sat down placing his cup next to yours. 

“I’ll leave you guys at it” Gunwook said, standing up from his seat, pulling the boy next to him with him “Good luck, Y/n” he added and left the room. 

“What the fuck did that mean” Jake asked as his eyes followed the two boys out of the room. 

“He’s drunk, that’s all” you smiled “Half an hour late, not cute Jake” you added quickly. 

He laughed and pulled out his phone. With a few swift clicks he showed you a video of Sunghoon begging for mercy on the toilet. By the way he’s screaming you’d think he was getting brutally tortured. 

“We gave him spicy noodles with a shit ton of lactose,” Jake laughed. 

“Isn’t he like intolerant” you laughed, replaying the video one more time. “He’s never gonna live this down” you added and handed the phone back to Jake. 

You spotted the juice and vodka Gunwook had left behind “You want some” you said pointing your head towards the bottles. 

Jake nodded and chugged down his drink to make space for something else. You reached over for the bottles, and poured it in his empty cup. 

“This is nice,” he said after taking a sip. The alcohol burned his throat a little bit, but he’s gotten used to it by now. 

“Well no duh. Made by a girl like me, so obviously it’s nice” you smiled and poured yourself another cup. 

“A hot girl, right?” he slurred, and looked at you “You look so good in that dress”

“You bought it for me after all” you smiled, trying to contain yourself from doing something you’d regret. 

“And you’re letting other guys see you like this? Should’ve kept it for me and only me” he moved closer to you. 

You knew it wasn't the alcohol making him act like this. He’s only had two drinks after all. 

“And why would I do that, mmh?” you asked, with a sly smile, riling him up just a tiny bit more. 

“Cause you're mine, yeah? All of this is mine” his eyes scanned you. 

You felt his breath down your neck, and that’s when the self restraint you had flew out the window, as you pressed your delicate lips against his plump ones. Your heart heaves uneasily as you give into his soft touch, hands pressed against your hips, as he pulls you closer to his chest. 

The kiss was lustfull, full of built up feelings that’ve been stored up in your hearts for ages. His lips were like a magnet; just when you thought it was over they pulled you back in for more. He tasted like vodka and cherry chapstick, and you just couldn’t resist him. 

“Fuck, no one can make you feel this good. Only me, remember that” he said breathlessly, holding you up against his chest. “Don’t tell anyone about this, yeah? It can be our little secret” he said, planting kisses down your neck. 

“Mmh” you answered out of breath, your nails digging into his back. 

“I guess another point of the bucket list completed for me” Jake muttered. 

“Vivienne Wooblegooble, what do you- What the fuck” Anton beamed, walking into the dining room. 

… 

It’s been two weeks since Hanbin’s birthday party. And you kept your promise. Apart from Anton who desperately wanted to sell you a fake ID, nobody knew. You were good at keeping promises and secrets. 

It didn't quite hit you when it happened. Maybe because some part deep inside you expected it to happen. Or maybe because you subconsciously we're preparing for that moment to finally come. No matter what it was, you didn't care. You could finally enjoy having Jake all to yourself. 

You found it fun, the fact no one knew. Your brother, Lee Heeseung, had a head of bricks, not even budging when he caught Jake leaving your room, alone, in the middle of the night. He just dapped him up, and asked if he wanted to play Fifa. 

But everyday you were getting closer to the start of the school year. That meant that not only everyone would leave, but most importantly, Jake was going to leave. 

“My boys, we gotta go hunting. Twenty sexy ladies won’t kiss themselves” Heeseung announced as all of you, alongside Hanbin and Anton, gathered to watch movies at your house. 

“This is exactly why you have never seen a woman naked” Yunjin commented, and once again averted her attention to the TV. 

“That’s lame as fuck. I’m not doing it” Jake said, focused on the movie playing in front of him. 

“Can someone tell me what’s gotten into him suddenly” Jay asked, a weird look on his face as he turned to Jake. 

Jake tried to laugh it off, hoping he can just make up a stupid excuse to not go ‘hunting’, but Jay persisted. It wasn’t the first time, since Hanbin's party, that Jake has been making up excuses to not go hang out with different girls. 

“I’m just trying to look for something serious. Plus I’m tired of hoeing around, Jay” Jake answered, and to be completely honest, it was the worst excuse you’ve ever heard. 

“Well you’re no fun” Heeseung said, picking up his keys “Boys, we have a mission to complete. Without his horse looking ass” he added, pointing to Jake. 

“Hanbin, you not coming?” Sunghoon asked, but quickly noticed Yunjins grasp on the boy's arm, “Oh, I see, you’ve become a kiss ass just like Jake” he laughed and took a zoned out Anton with him. Hanbin just muttered a quick ‘fuck off’, and continued to entertain your bestfriend. 

You heard the door shut, with that, loud screams coming from outside. 

“We’ll leave you guys alone maybe, no one’s coming anytime soon, so do whatever you want” you smiled at Hanbin and Yunjin, leaving to go upstairs with Jake. 

The staircase creaked under your feet, as you quickly pulled Jake to your room. You knew that your friends downstairs would easily entertain themselves alone. He smiled as you pulled him inside, he drew you closer to his body, heat radiating off him. 

“I’m impressed, they’re gonna flame you later for that, you know?” you said, sitting down on his lap, as he placed himself on the edge of your bed. 

“I really don’t care. All I need is this” he gave you a sly smile, eyeing you down. 

You smiled, and hugged him tightly, enjoying every second you got to spend with Sim Jake. Maybe this was gonna end up just like any other summer fling, but that didn’t matter. You had him now, and you weren’t gonna waste that. 

“God, I wish I told you earlier, maybe we’d have more time together” he said, his hands wandering on your back, as he tried to close any room between your bodies. 

“We don’t have to worry about that now” you said, removing yourself from the crook of his neck to look at him “You just have to promise to call me everyday. And visit whenever you can, okay?” you asked, and he happily nodded his head. 

… 

Keeping secrets from your brother was fun. You’d do it all the time. Seeing his reaction when he did actually find out, was the funniest thing ever. Although real, he'd have the wackiest reaction ever, expression close to the ones in fake 3am youtuber pranks calls. 

But this time it was different. 

Heeseung had come home early from soccer practice, you didn’t even hear him come in. He had wanted to surprise you with some sweet treats, knowing you were sick. But he had been welcomed with an even better surprise. 

Jake wanted to cheer you up knowing you weren’t feeling your best, and since no one was home, you invited him over. Heeseung wasn’t supposed to be home until late. 

So that’s when for the first time in your life, your brother had sat you down to have a serious talk. 

“How long has this been going on? Ever since you met him? How could I be so stupid to not notice? Oh my fucking god Y/n, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked thousands of questions at once, and you didn’t even know which one to answer first. 

“Heeseung stop freaking out. It’s only been a couple of weeks” you said, not even being able to look at him. You didn’t want to see an expression of disappointment on your brother's face, all because of you. 

“And I’m guessing no one knows?” he asked, and to your surprise his tone was calm. 

“Anton does, he caught us while trying to sell me a fake ID” you answered, as stupid as it sounded, you had to keep a serious face on. 

“That fucking wackass scammer. What name did he come up with for you?” Heeseung asked, and that’s when you finally had the confidence to look up at him. 

“Vanessa? Or Vivenne Wooblegooble. Something like that” you laughed slightly, and so did he. 

“God can’t he just come up with something normal for once. Mine was Ethan Flapdoodle, but he wanted me to pay 100$ for that shit” he laughed, and turned his whole body towards you “Look Y/n, I’m not one to decide what you do, you know? But I just hoped you’d tell me about something like this” he added, and gave you a small smile. 

“I know Hee, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you” you said. 

“Don’t be sorry. Jake is like for real, my best friend. Like you know, brother from another mother and shit. So I’m glad it’s him and not that knob Eunseok or something. Seunghan told me ya’ll we’re up to something” he voiced with a chuckle “I’m happy it’s Jake actually, he’s a really good fucking dude. Like for real, and you know that too” 

You smiled at his answer, and for the first time in a while, hugged your brother. He was surprised but hugged you back, tighter than ever. 

“How long have you liked him?” he asked, his voice muffled by the material of your sweatshirt. 

“Like four years” you answered, and he quickly pulled out of the hug, and that idiotic expression decorated his face. 

“Damn you’re loyal as fuck” he said, shocked. 

“Now tell me what’s wrong with Eunseok” you questioned, since all the signs so far pointed to Song Eunseok being a good match for anyone. 

“Yunjin probably told you that Kazuha cheated on him, right? Yeah that’s bullshit, Kazuha called him since he couldn’t find his phone, and saw herself saved as ‘Girl 4’. Turns out he had like 8 of them” he answered “And then that dumb fuck had the audacity to brag about it to us, saying some shit along the lines of ‘Oh I guess I gotta go find a replacement for Girl number 4’” he added, with a horrendous impression of Eunseok. 

You felt bad for believing the fabricated story everyone had passed on about Kazuha, making a mental note to tell Yunjin about the truth later. 

“Anyways, here’s some medicine and your favourite snacks, I hope you feel better so my little sister can smooch Jake again soon” he said, getting up from your bed. “Not thrilled to find out this way, but I’m happy for you two. I’m not gonna tell everyone else though, you should do it yourself” he said with a slight smile, stepping out of the room. 

That’s how your dumb brother found out. And honestly, it couldn’t have gone any better. 

… 

The summer had gone by in a blink of an eye. The memories you made were going to stay with you forever. 

You had eventually told everyone about you and Jake, and it shocked you to see that no one was really that surprised. Well expect Yunjin who stalled you on a phone call for three hours to ask you millions of questions. It was nice to know someone cared. And it was nice to know that people you treated like siblings supported you more than anyone. 

You had finished the bucket list a week before school started again, a week before everyone had to move out. 

Jake had already sent out most of his stuff to his new roommate in Los Angeles, leaving a couple things behind for you. 

Sunghoon and Jay had moved out a little earlier than you thought they would. The first time you had visited them in their new apartment, you were surprised by how ugly it was. But finding out Sunghoon picked it cleared everything up for you. 

Heeseung decided to stay home, since it made no sense for him to move out. You could lie and say you hated it, but in all honesty you were happy. At the end of the day he was your older brother. Your older brother who you loved more than you’d like to admit.  

Yunjin’s idea, Secret Santa, was probably the best thing on that bucket list. 

When you opened the box to find a jar of gherkins and used up lotion, you knew who picked the paper with your name. You had picked Jay, gifting him a Paris Saint-Germain jersey and a gift card. 

The blanket fort sleepover at Yunjin’s house turned out to be a disaster. No one could fall asleep in the neatly built fort, because Sunghoon’s snoring problem had everyone up till 6AM begging for it to stop. 

The bonfire Seunghan had hosted was also a shining memorie that you knew you’d look back on until next summer. You didn’t expect to get close with so many new people this season, but you guess the distance that was about to separate you actually brought all of you closer. 

Anton had begged you then to purchase the fake document since he had already made it, and you didn’t have the heart to say no to him,  the pleading look on his face pulling you into his scam gig. Guess this was his trick to get everyone involved in his illegal business. 

You spent the last week hanging out, having deep talks (which was honestly extremely rare), and looking back at old photos from past summers. It was sweet, seeing everyone so grown up. 

“Look at your uglyass outfit. You loved that shirt so much” you pointed out. 

You played with Jake’s hair as he lying down in between your thighs. It had grown a lot, and you honestly liked it more than you thought you would. 

“There is quite literally nothing wrong with it. All the ladies loved it” he protested, chuckling. 

It was horrendous. 

“Whatever you say. I’m just glad you stop wearing these tacky tie dye t-shirts” you said, scrolling through the album again. 

“Look at Yunjin! You called me ugly, but she looks like a virgin loser in this one” he called out and you slapped his arm for even having the audacity to offend your best friend like that. 

“At least someone had a glow up” you answered, and scrolled once again. 

“But you liked me. Even with the tie dye minion shirt” he smiled, and turned over to look at you. 

“And I still like you. But a little less without the minion shirts” you replied, a smile on your face. 

“So do you like them or nah? Cause I think I still have them” he questioned with a curious expression on his face. 

“If you like it then I like it too, I guess” you answered, and he moved up a little to be at level with your face. 

“Then I like you. More than anything else in this world. Even more than the minion t-shirt” he said, honesty lacing his tone, a pretty smile decorating his face. 

You grabbed his face, and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead. 

“Remember what you promised me?” you asked, as he lied back down, still facing you. 

“Enlighten me once again, please?” he said, nervous you wouldn’t like the fact that he forgot. But you just laughed. 

“You promised to call me everyday. And visit, anytime you could” you told him once again, and he smiled, the memory coming back to him. 

“You got it baby” 

And so he did. He called every day. He visited anytime he could. He was there every time you needed him. Cause he was yours. He was your Jake Sim, and that summer was yours truly. 

7dream's reactions to idol!y/n getting caught in a rumor with the idol netizens shipped/speculated they're in a relationship (like for example mark's y/n was caught in a dating rumor with arin of ohmygirl)

shipped w another idol.

he’s thinking about the oppression of women in society💔

Boys should be on their knees looking up at me in adoration more often.

CUTE

enhypen x peanuts

picture day

LOVEDDDDDDDD THIS

my first and last (m)

pairing lee jeno x reader

word count 37k

synopsis meet lee jeno, campus heartbreaker, fuckboy, secret nerd. he’s the notorious guy that everyone wants but he only wants you —a shy, introverted stranger who appeared from nowhere, turning his life upside down. what starts as a reputation-defying connection swiftly evolves from strangers to friends and to intense, immediate love. it’s a twist the two of you never saw coming, the opening of your hearts to someone unexpected. but as personal struggles and external issues threaten to derail your connection, the once-confident jeno is left shattered and ensnared in the tumult of a love story gone awry.

chapter warnings first love au, irrelevant exes, explicit language, swearing, mentions of intense anxiety, drugs, alcohol, your average college au, opposite of slow burn, fluff which will make you scream, romantic jeno, loving jeno, a jeno who doesn’t really gaf about anyone but his girl, sweet boyfriend jeno, bestie yeonjun, yn and jeno paired for a uni project, touchy jeno, oral sex (receiving), throat fucking, blow job, hard dom jeno, sub reader, soft dom jeno, choking, riding, most loving kisses, reader sits on jenos face hehe, cute sex under the starlight on jenos trunk, jeno who rips off lingerie, protective jeno, jeno is horny, and a lot, his emotions, heart are all 110%, rough sex, choking, dirty talk, cute dates, girls who are bitches to yn :(, a jeno who gets so heartbroken and done dirty you’ll feel bad! gift giving, romantic gestures bf jeno

genre smut, fluff, angst, strangers to friends to lovers, opposites attract

author comments this is a re upload on another account, my account was shadow b*nned and i was sick of it so here i am with the same fic, just under a diff name (it was for my first love, lee jeno before) also a smut scene is different so stay tuned. this is the third time i upload this im going insane

please leave asks !!

check out the mfal ml here includes text posts, never seen before scenes and behind the scenes content <3

✧ ✧ ✧

Walking onto campus, you take in the sights of the renowned university. The buildings exude academic excellence, and the lush greenery adds a touch of serenity. Despite the early hour, the campus is alive with students hurrying by, creating a vibrant atmosphere.

Heading towards the director's office, you enter the building, sensing the prestige in the air. Portraits of distinguished alumni line the walls, and the marble-floored corridor echoes with the soft sounds of footsteps.

As you approach the director's office, you're called in for your meeting, and a wave of nervousness washes over you. You keep your head low, arms crossed over your body and walking steadily calculated. You instinctively avoid making prolonged eye contact with others, instead of maintaining a steady gaze, your eyes started to dart away, seeking solace in the periphery.

The director's office door swings open, revealing Johnny Suh, a figure synonymous with success in the academic world. Young, rich, and undeniably handsome, his reputation precedes him. Though you hadn't initially seen the appeal, you find yourself momentarily awestruck by his commanding presence, his handsomeness leaving you astonished.

He spent a few minutes welcoming you to the University, giving some background information and useful tips that you were incredibly thankful for. Then the conversation takes a swift turn.

"Y/N, I hear you're one of the top psychology students in the country.” Johnny remarks, his voice carrying an air of authority that matches his status.

Humbled but unable to deny the truth, you nod in acknowledgment. "I'm honoured you acknowledge that.”

"It's your first day here, and I know you're probably not expecting this, but I see high potential in you," Johnny continues. "I wouldn't recommend this if I didn't believe you could handle it. It's going to be tough, but your strong work ethic, dedication, and time management will be of great assistance."

Confusion clouds your expression as Johnny hints at a challenge ahead. Before any clarification can be offered, the door swings open again, revealing a figure you immediately find intriguing. He enters with an air of nonchalance. His hooded eyes, half-asleep gaze, and ruffled, messy hair add to his effortlessly handsome appearance.

Dressed casually yet impeccably, his cheeks are hollow, and his sharp jawline gives him an alluring edge. There's an enigmatic darkness about him that you can't quite explain but find strangely magnetic. His attire is a perfect blend of casual and put together, highlighting his innate sense of style.

He looks right at you, and his gaze is captivating and strong. You feel an unexpected flutter as your eyes meet, his presence leaving an indelible mark on your first day. As your eyes meet, a surge of surprise flickers in his gaze, and you, feeling an unexpected flutter, try to conceal the sudden shyness.

He takes the vacant seat beside you, eyes not leaving yours and you almost feel your heart stop. He’s even more breathtaking in person. His allure is heightened, perhaps by the subtle nuances of his expressions, the captivating way he carries himself,

“You’re new?” he asks, his voice low and thick with a hint of weariness.

You nod, meeting his intense gaze. “Y/N.”

“Jeno.” he replies, a small smile playing on his lips.

Professor Suh stood at the front of the room, "Welcome, Y/N and Jeno. I'm thrilled to have you both on board for this groundbreaking project that merges engineering and psychology, your respective majors. Your unique skill sets will be crucial in creating something truly impactful."

“Jeno, your unexpected excellence in engineering sets you apart without the need for boasting. Your laid-back energy and ability to achieve high results with minimal effort make you an ideal candidate for this project. You'll complement Y/N's hardworking and determined nature as a perfect counterpart.”

“Y/N, on your first day as a transfer, my meticulous examination of your records and discussions with past professors leave me with no doubt about your suitability for this project. Your dedication, serious approach to education, and future planning give me high hopes. The stark difference between your hard work ethic and Jeno's laid-back attitude is precisely why I envision a successful collaboration. Jeno's ease will balance well with your commitment, creating a synergy that I believe will lead to exceptional outcomes. I look forward to seeing how your distinct qualities contribute to the success of this endeavour.”

He paced back and forth, gesturing to the screen displaying images of urban spaces and people engaging with technology. "We're embarking on an innovative project that centres around Virtual Reality Therapy. This groundbreaking initiative involves harnessing virtual reality technology to craft therapeutic environments for individuals dealing with stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. Y/N, given your background in psychology, your insights are pivotal. I encourage you to delve into understanding how people emotionally, socially, and culturally interact within these virtual therapeutic spaces as we pioneer this transformative approach."

Addressing Jeno, Professor Suh continued, "Jeno, your engineering expertise will play a vital role in translating the technical facets of our vision into reality. From efficient infrastructure to sustainable solutions and cutting-edge technology, I anticipate your innovative touch to shape and elevate this project."

As the excitement filled the room, Professor Suh's expression turned serious. "Now, a crucial point to address. Y/N and Jeno, I appreciate your collaboration, but it's important to maintain a professional boundary. Given the nature of this project, a personal relationship could introduce biases and conflicts of interest. Therefore, I must emphasize that you both cannot engage in a romantic relationship during the course of this project. We need clear focus and objectivity to make this endeavor a success."

The room fell momentarily silent as the weight of the statement settled. Professor Suh concluded, "I believe in your capabilities, and I'm confident that together, you can create something remarkable. Let's make a difference, not just in engineering and psychology, but in the lives of those who will benefit from our work."

Professor Suh continues with a firm but encouraging tone, “I expect each of you to approach this project with the dedication you’d give to a cherished hobby. I’ll be monitoring our progress weekly, and I want to see a well-structured timetable in place to ensure we’re on track.”

As the words lingered in the air, you were amazed. Your eyes reflected genuine enthusiasm for the challenge ahead. The prospect of making a positive impact resonated with you, and a subtle smile played on your lips.

On the other hand, Jeno wore an expression of the opposite. This collaborative endeavor seemed to hold little interest for him, and an air of mild dread crossed his features. The idea of putting in effort didn't align with his usual laid-back demeanor.

In this moment of contrasting emotions, you and Jeno shared a glance. Your bright-eyed enthusiasm met his more reserved skepticism. There, in that silent exchange, an unspoken understanding unfolded—an acknowledgment of your differing perspectives yet a recognition of the collaborative journey you were about to embark on. The dynamics between you two already hinted at the intriguing challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving the office together, you assumed Jeno, with his tired demeanor, would head off on his own. To your surprise, he turns to you, his hooded eyes meeting yours. The weariness in his expression contrasts with the kindness in his gaze, and your assumption fades as he wears a faint but warm smile.

In the dim light of the corridor, both your eyes meet, and unexpectedly, Jeno speaks, "It's your first day. Do you want me to show you around?" His voice, though a bit tired, carries a genuine offer.

You smile instinctively, grateful for the unexpected gesture. You nod.

Little did you know, Jeno's offer wasn't just about preventing you from getting lost. As he walks beside you, pointing out different buildings and sharing anecdotes, it becomes evident that he's intrigued by you. His questions about your interests and the way he attentively listens reveal a curiosity that goes beyond the simple act of guiding a new student. There's a subtle connection forming, and as you chat and laugh, the initial weariness in Jeno's eyes seems to fade, replaced by a genuine interest that neither of you can quite explain.

As Jeno points out various architectural details, his words flow with a quiet eloquence. "This is probably my favourite building, it’s a blend of neoclassical and modernist elements, I love the contrast. Can you see how the columns, though contemporary, draw inspiration from classical Greek design?”

Though you're not particularly interested in the intricacies of architecture, you find yourself captivated by the way Jeno speaks. His words, delivered with a smooth cadence, reveal a depth of understanding and an understated intelligence that intrigues you. You tune in more to the cadence of his voice, the rise and fall of each carefully chosen word, than to the specifics of the buildings he's describing.

"This structure is known for its sustainability," Jeno continues, gesturing towards another building. "The architect prioritized energy efficiency through the use of eco-friendly materials and innovative ventilation systems."

You nod, pretending to absorb the architectural information, but in reality, you're more attuned to the way Jeno effortlessly conveys his knowledge. His eloquence paints a picture of someone who possesses not only a keen eye for design but also a refined ability to articulate complex concepts. In the midst of the architectural tour, you find yourself appreciating not just the buildings but the subtle intelligence that radiates from Jeno's well-spoken descriptions.

There’s another reason why you feel out of tune when he’s speaking, it’s because all you can feel is stares. As you walk beside Jeno, so many peering eyes follow your direction, the weight of gazes lingers, making you feel out of tune with his words. The countless stares create a sense of unease, prompting you to cut him off. "Why is everyone staring?" you ask Jeno, confusion evident in your voice.

"They're not," he shakes his head reassuringly, but you know better – they are. He offers a kind smile, attempting to soothe your discomfort. "You're just shy. It's your first day."

Jeno notices subtle signs of distress in you as your hands tremble, breaths quicken and a flicker of unease in your eyes. Despite not fully understanding the reasons, an instinctive urge compels him to offer comfort. Maybe it's the sincerity in your gaze or the vulnerability that surfaces.

Jeno’s hand delicately finding its place on your chin. Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen in response to the unexpected touch. Yet, as your gaze meets his, a juxtaposing warmth begins to unfold. It’s a warmth you can’t quite explain, a comforting sensation that weaves through the panic.

His soft yet dark eyes look deep into yours. Jeno’s voice, a seductive and hushed whisper, slices through the ambient noise. “Just keep looking at me. Keep your eyes on me.” His words intensify the warmth, a juxtaposition to the escalating panic within you. It’s as though Jeno’s mere presence, coupled with his soothing touch and whispered guidance, forms a shield against the prying stares.

In that moment, the panic subsides, and your attention becomes tethered to Jeno. There’s an unspoken understanding in his gaze, a silent promise that despite the sea of eyes, his focus is a haven of reassurance. The inexplicable warmth persists, becoming a sanctuary within the storm of attention, and you find solace in the connection he forges amidst the overwhelming gaze of others.

Your first impression of Lee Jeno is so good. Truthfully, you’re not a people’s person. You stay to yourself, you have an incredibly small circle and you don’t particularly enjoy socialising, you rather stay inside and read a book or study. You didn’t expect to bond with someone on your first day like you had bonded with Jeno. You learned a considerable amount about him. He loved architecture even though he studied engineering, he was quite a nerd. He wants to be a pilot when he graduates, his favourite food is sushi (like yours) and he has an older sister. You even exchanged numbers, you told him to text you whenever he had a question about the project.

A sigh of relief escapes as you finally step into the comforting embrace of your home. Your social battery is drained, and with each steady breath, you revel in the tranquillity within familiar wall, immediately heading over to the fridge for some comfort food.

Proud of yourself, you reflect on succeeding through the challenges of your first day in a completely new city and university. There's a sense of accomplishment in not retreating to the bathroom but facing the day head-on. Making a friend, or at least someone you're excited about, (you’re not sure if he counts as a friend yet).

Truthfully, you find yourself thinking about him, Jeno. A smile lingering on your face like an idiot. The moment you sink into your bed, the cushions engulfing you, you can't contain the giddy excitement. Kicking your feet like a teenager, you revel in the warmth of the accomplishment.

Sure, he may be dreamy and handsome, and you playfully curse yourself for finding him so but hey, you're just a girl, and there's a certain charm in embracing those girly feelings amidst the challenges of a new day.

As you're about to dim the lights and start your favorite romcom, "Notting Hill," the ambiance carefully set with food and opening credits, the front door slams, causing you to nearly drop your bowl of popcorn. Startled, you turn to find your roommate, Choi Yeonjun, entering. His features look shocked, and your gaze instinctively scans the room before freezing when you realize his intensity is directed at you.

Without a greeting, his loud voice rings through the room, "Why the hell am I hearing that Lee Jeno walked you around campus this morning?"

You raise your brows in confusion. How did he find out? "Is he some celebrity or something?"

Yeonjun chuckles, giving you a judgmental look, treating your question as if it's the most absurd thing he's ever heard. "News travels like the plague when it’s concerning Lee Jeno, Y/N. He's a big deal, the campus enigma. Probably the most popular and wanted guy around. He and his friends practically rule the institution. Notorious, but in a good way. He's like that guy in teen movies. He throws parties and he fucks everyone. Are you seriously telling me you don’t know? Didn't everyone stare?"

Your mouth widens in shock, you genuinely thought that Yeonjun was lying but it’s clear he’s not. Jeno had seemed like the most far from popular person ever, he seemed down to earth and friendly and he was such a nerd! The mental image of Jeno walking you around campus this morning, discussing architecture with genuine passion, clashes with the idea of a campus legend. He had felt so approachable, and the revelation triggers a whirlwind of thoughts as you grapple with this unexpected side of him. The stark contrast between perception and reality leaves you in a state of genuine disbelief.

You answer your roommate's question after a while of silence. “Everyone was staring but he just brushed it off while I was shitting myself. It makes sense now! He acted so calm because he’s used to the stares.”

Red rose to your cheeks as you thought about his sweet gesture earlier, a smile plastered on your smile. “He was really sweet though, he reassured me in such a cute way, his hands touched my face and he whispered in my ear –”

Yeonjun screams and it gives you whiplash. “GIRL! NO!” He shakes his head, acting as if you’re committing arson.

“Why not?” You question, your voice a low whisper as you frown.

Yeonjun is flabbergasted as he explains. “He’s a player, he’s a fuckboy. He practically fucks anyone with a pussy and apparently he doesn’t get into relationships. Plus, apparently he can be really intense and full on, especially when he’s high, yeah, he gets high and wasted. He throws all these notorious parties and to be fair, I’ve been to some of them and they’re great but it’s a lot of drugs, alcohol, smoking and couples fucking. I’m not kidding. He’s very extroverted and confident but in quite a sexy and slick back way, yeah he’s really fucking hot and I can see that you already think that. I just think you should keep your distance, Y/N, if I’m being honest, he’s the opposite of you.”

The weight of Yeonjun’s words settles heavily in the room, leaving you in another silence. The dissonance between the Jeno you thought you knew and the reality presented by Yeonjun leaves you grappling with a mix of shock, disappointment, and a lingering sense of disbelief.

Yeonjun apologizes when he senses your mood shift, but you brush it off, recognizing it's not his fault. You thank him for being a good friend and giving you a heads up.

As your roommate, Yeonjun is the opposite of you—outgoing, always taking you out to explore the city, and a great person to chat with. He has a boyfriend named Soobin, who happens to be an excellent cook. Despite how loud they are and the amount of times you’ve walked into them in questionable positions, you can't help but envy their relationship—they're your idea of couple goals.

✧ ✧ ✧

The professor, passionately discussing human interactions, captivates your attention until the door swings open abruptly. Your eyes widen as you're shocked to find Jeno entering, eyes locking onto yours. He appears well-dressed, his hair slightly messy, tight black shirt and his pupils dilated.

Despite the stares from the seminar attendees, he remains unfazed. "There you are, you gave me the wrong number, you idiot.” he declares, catching you off guard. In this unexpected moment, you reflect on Yeonjun's warning, realizing that Jeno's demeanour speaks volumes—confidence exudes from him. You would’ve never thought this earlier but since Yeonjun’s warning, you’ve been replaying his campus tour in your head and it’s clear that he’s confident, it’s crazy how one opinion can completely transform an existing opinion.

"How did you find me?"

His response is curt, "Doesn't matter. It’s a good time to start on the project now. I’m quite busy for the next few months so I’d be thankful if you were able to dedicate the next month or so to making good progress.” As he seamlessly transitions into discussing the project, he proves to be well-spoken and sweet.

You nod. “Of course.”

He smiles and mutters a thank you. “Give me your phone quickly.” You gulp as he puts his number in your phone, telling you that he’s added the dates to your calendar on when you’ll work together for the project, telling you to message him if you need to adjust them.

He poses the question, "Your house or mine?" An audible gulp escapes you before hesitantly suggesting, "Um… the library?"

Jeno laughs, "Can we talk there?"

You agree, "Okay, then my house."

Without waiting for your reply, he turns around, leaving you to process his abrupt departure. "See you tonight," he calls over his shoulder, disappearing as swiftly as he entered.

✧ ✧ ✧

Jeno has been coming over to work with you nearly every day. He drives.

You’ve grown quite… intrigued (if you say attracted then Yeonjun will get Heejin to hit you) by his kind gestures. He always brings over food and your favourite coffee. You told him your favourite coffee once, it was just something you said in passing and you didn’t expect him to actually remember and then start a ritual of regularly buying it for you.

His company is one that you find yourself growing attached to, you’re comfortable around him. You’re surprised how quickly you’ve gotten used to him, it’s rare for someone like you to warm up to a stranger so quickly.

His work ethic is the main thing that has you incredibly intrigued by him. He’s never late to your study sessions, he’s always engaged and every idea he has exceeds brilliance.

The sides of his lips curve up at your planning. “So cute.” He whispers under his breath, watching you as your brows furrowed in concentration, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you bring out the right folder, it was a massive baby blue one, labelled ‘Y/N’s and Jeno’s Virtual Reality Therapy project,’ in the most prettiest cursive writing, different types of stickers, butterflies, hearts and ribbons, accessorising the front.

“I have so many folders, I colour coordinate them all but it’s still so difficult to remember which is which.” You say with a heavy puff, Jeno taking the hefty folder from your hands and placing it on the well lit and presented study table in front of you.

He learns that you take studying very seriously, you’re always revising. You take pride in your notes, you gave him a tour of all your revision material and he’s never seen someone talk about studying with such a grin on their face, all your notes were so well written and organised, it gives him a new wave of awe for you.

“So, let’s brainstorm our ideas. So I said that we need to ensure that each virtual space is personalised to resonate with users emotionally, this could involve customizable elements like scents, sounds, and visuals to enhance the therapeutic experience. This helps with mindfulness. We can incorporate guided mindfulness exercises, providing users with tools to manage stress and anxiety within the virtual environment.”

Your lips automatically turn sour when you turn the page over in the written plans you’ve made, Jeno lets out a laugh when he sees why. It’s the engineering side to the project, you’ve made it clear that his major is something that you may never understand and have zero interest in. “I’ll let you talk about these ideas.” You wince, Jeno’s rough handwriting nearly making you cry.

“So we’re gonna implement advanced AI algorithms. These algorithms would adapt to user responses and needs, providing personalised guidance.”

You squeal, nearly jumping out of your seat and he looks at you with amazed eyes. You just had a lightbulb moment. You grin and clap your hands excitedly as you speak. “I just thought of an amazing idea, what if we create a way of facilitating connections among users who share similar therapeutic goals? We should aim to incorporate it, the sense of community can bring people together for additional support, they can assist on each other's journey towards mental well-being.”

Your turn to him pleading, lips in a pout as you give him the cutest puppy eyes you can muster. “Pleaseeee tell me you can make it work from your side, if you so no, I might cry.”

It takes Jeno a while to reply because he’s thinking, thinking about you. No one else would get this happy over thinking of a good idea, he finds you endearing and cute, you’re something that warms any darkness in his heart.

When you call out his name, he finally responds with a nod. “I’ll just need to create a way where users have autonomy to shape their therapeutic experiences and who they want to share it with. I can do that easily with database software, no problem.” You sigh and thank him, turning to the side and watching him as he furrows his nose, jotting down notes, a lot of mathematics and science that looks foreign to you.

“It’s a good idea, Y/N. Therapy is proven to work the best when you have someone to lean on.”

You nod like a siren as he speaks, following every word and never finding a fault, he is so smart. He always has good ideas, you’re amazed at how he can keep up with the psychology side to the project while you struggle to understand the engineering side to it. He works so hard and honestly seeing him in his element has made him even more attractive.

“Let’s take a break.” His words break your enchantment. You nod, he’s consistently been reminding you to take breaks and to be drinking your fluids.

“Do you wanna help Yeonjun cook?” You question, a small smirk playing on your lips at the change in his expression, his eyes lighting up and it makes you laugh hard.

“He’s here?”

“Yeah, he lives here.” You say sarcastically.

Unexpectedly, he, Yeonjun and Soobin get along like they’ve known each other for years. It all started when Yeonjun nearly burned the kitchen down in a cooking disaster. Jeno, like the genius that he is, salvaged the kitchen from going up in flames and salvaged the meal. It was the best meal you’ve had in your life. You’re not surprised that he was a talented chef, you’re growing to learn that he’s good at everything and it’s without effort.

Ever since then, Yeonjun and Jeno have started cooking together. It’s more like Yeonjun failing to follow the recipes, Jeno doing most of the work and then Soobin having to comfort his pouting boyfriend because he just wants to be able to cook one meal without fucking it up. You overhear the three of them in the kitchen sometimes. three people from complete different backgrounds but they bond and share stories, their laughter always making your heart yearn.

You and Jeno have the cooked meal in your room as you were studying at the same time. You grab your phone from your pocket, going onto Instagram and getting the delicious meal in your camera angle. You feel his eyes on you before he speaks. “I wanna follow you.”

You exchanged socials with Jeno and though it was difficult to fully control yourself as he was sitting right next to you, you were so close to hitting your head against a wall, anything to stop your head from buzzing.

The first thing you notice is the amount of followers he has, a whopping 5589, your 95 followers seemed silly in comparison. The second thing you notice is his feed. You have to bite your tongue from screaming. It’s absolute filth. Delicious filth. Your eyes light up at it and you admit, it’s sexy but you’re also wondering how the hell this was the same person.

Your eyes hover over countless shirtless photos, photos in the gym, at the beach, he had a physique that deserved this amount of posts. He had countless photos of him partying, drinking, loads where he’s just posing and he looks so handsome, like a model. His face belonged in runaways, so did his body. Your eyes also grow wide at how well styled he is in these photos, his poses natural, only he can pull this off.

“You have so many photos with that damn teddy.” You gulp when you realise that he was probably stalking your account just like you did to his, you now regret being so glued to your phone and his feed as you missed his reactions to your own feed.

“Do you wanna know why?” You continue when he nods. “I love travelling, it’s when I’m happiest. I love trying new food, seeing the culture, I love getting a break. This teddy has been with me since day 1, through thick and thin, so it means a lot to me that it’s also experienced some of my best memories with me. I make it tradition to take a photo in front of the country that I’m visiting biggest landmark, holding Theo.”

Jeno looks at the teddy bear with genuine admiration, his smile growing more tender. "It's worn out.” you mumble, a hint of apology in your voice. "But it's still sentimental," he says, understanding the value it holds for you. The moment feels beautiful, Jeno holding something that carries so many memories and brings you comfort.

As he looks at the teddy bear, you decide this is a memory worth capturing. "The tradition is taking a photo with my teddy, so..." you trail off, grabbing your camera.

Jeno, intrigued, asks, "What's the special landmark this time?"

You pause, then playfully respond, "My bed," only realising how it might sound after the words leave your mouth.

Flustered, you try to clarify, "I didn't mean—"

But Jeno finds it amusing, his laughter filling the room. "It's okay," he reassures you, still smiling. As the laughter lingers, you seize the moment, capturing it with a click of the camera. The soft bear rests in Jeno's hands, and he's caught in the act of laughing, his focus off the camera as he gazes at you.

Excitement builds as you show him the photo, his expression unreadable. However, there's a fondness in his eyes that speaks volumes. "Send me it," he requests, and before the words fully leave his mouth, the photo is already on his phone. It's a moment frozen in time, a memory shared, and a connection deepening between you and Jeno.

As the laughter subsides, a profound stillness envelops the room. Your gaze locks with Jeno's, and suddenly, everything else fades into the background. There's an intensity in the air, and it's as if a cascade of unspoken thoughts and feelings clouds your minds, creating a shared moment that defies explanation.

In the midst of this intimate silence, you find the courage to break it. Your voice, a mere whisper, carries the weight of vulnerability, "You know, I don't let anyone touch my teddy. His name is Theo." The admission hangs there, lingering, as the depth of trust and connection grows between you and Jeno. In that shared gaze, you both seem to get lost, lost in a space where time slows, and the world outside becomes a mere backdrop.

Finally, breaking the spell, you continue, "You're the first who's held him other than me." The words bridge the unspoken gap between you, sealing a bond that laughter and shared moments have forged. It's a moment both intense and intimate, etched in the quiet exchange of looks and the admission of something so personal.

Later that night, after Jeno had left, you find yourself scrolling through Instagram. Your heart races when you spot the latest post on your feed. A smile spreads across your face as you click on Jeno's profile, and the photo you took of him stands out in contrast to his usually serious and cohesive theme. It adds a touch of brightness and spontaneity.

Lee Jeno

*Image Attached*

Me and Theo :)

✧ ✧ ✧

Lee Jeno had seamlessly become a constant presence in your life, transcending the boundaries of your initial collaboration on the project. Friendship had blossomed, revealing layers of connection that went beyond the academic realm.

In the quietude of your shared space, you both spent countless hours together, revealing your true selves. Jeno’s kindness became something you grew incredibly attracted to. This became evident when Chaewon went through a tough breakup, and Jeno, true to his protective nature, comforted her in such a perfect way, he also held Chanhee accountable for his actions.

One evening, as the moon hung high in the sky, Jeno confided in you about his involvement in charity work, your mouth opening wide when you realise he works closely with the exact charity that you hold close to your heart. The revelation sparked a conversation that stretched into the early hours of the morning. Plans for the future unfolded organically, with both of you promising that you’d work hard so you could have a more active role in the charity, side by side. You even helped each other fill out the application for a post–graduate scheme the charity runs.

There were nights when words weren't necessary. The silence that enveloped you both wasn't awkward; instead, it became a source of comfort. Jeno cared for you in ways that transcended the project work. He brushed your hair, knowing it pained you to do it yourself. He cooked for you, he cleaned for you.

His caring nature extended to the smallest details—reminding you to take breaks during study sessions, massaging your hair and neck and personally ensuring you stayed hydrated by placing your water bottle in front of your lips every now and then. Jeno became attuned to your needs, completing small errands when the weight of your busy schedule became overwhelming.

As the night wore on, thoughts of Jeno lingered in your mind. You think about him all night long. His kindness had woven its way into the fabric of your daily life, making his presence as essential as the air you breathed. The bond you shared, born out of shared projects, charity work, and late-night conversations, had grown into something deeper—a connection that defied definition but spoke volumes in the language of shared glances, comfortable silences, and unwavering support.

In the hushed hours of the night, the doorbell's familiar chime cut through the silence, announcing Jeno's unannounced presence. It was 1am, this wasn’t unusual, it could only be him.

As the door closed behind him, Jeno's gaze found you, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he licked them. "You look hot.” he declared, eliciting a flutter of giddiness within you. Blushing, you responded, "Stop it." Yet Jeno's playful persistence only deepened.

A hint of tipsiness clung to him, altering the atmosphere with a subtle shift in demeanour. Jeno's eyes, unable to look away from you, held a different intensity. "Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he whispered seductively.

Shaking your head, you admitted, "It feels good.” embracing the newfound confidence his attention bestowed upon you. The sexy dress and meticulous makeup became a canvas, painting you in a different light.

“Does it feel good? Yeah?” His words lingered in the air, stirring emotions you were still discovering.

Your cheeks become red, quickly changing the topic. "Heejin was just bored and said she wanted to give me a makeover," you explained, attempting to divert attention from your newfound allure.

"Mmm," Jeno responded, his eyes revealing a flicker of something different. Captivated and a bit tipsy, his gaze lingered on you with newfound intensity. “I was gonna come over so we could do some work, but I feel quite distracted.” Jeno confessed, his eyes still locked on you. The suggestion of a new plan flickered in his gaze.

"You look good, let me take a photo." he proposed, and you found yourself becoming Jeno's muse. His skilled hands orchestrated the scene, capturing a moment blending sensuality with artistry. The photo, zoomed in, portrayed your cleavage adorned with a faint lace veil, jewelry perfectly placed, and his delicate touch moving your fingers over your chest, adding a new allure. As the camera clicked, the image froze in time, encapsulating a night of unexpected comforts and unspoken connections.

In the dimly lit room, the ambiance shifted as Jeno's intense gaze lingered on you. "You're beautiful." he uttered, his voice a low and seductive whisper that hung in the air. The atmosphere grew charged with an unspoken tension as his fingertips delicately traced over your fingers, still resting on your chest. A subtle chill accompanied the graze of his thumb over your rings, an act that heightened the intimacy of the moment.

Trapped in the magnetic pull of his gaze, you found yourself getting lost in the depths of each other's eyes. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in a silent exchange of emotions. The unspoken connection between you both spoke volumes, the touch of fingers and the locked gaze creating a romantic dance that transcended words. In that intimate space, time seemed to stand still, encapsulating the beauty of a moment suspended in the quiet acknowledgment of shared feelings.

Later that night you lay restless, head flat on your pillow, contemplating the desire to kick Jeno. Countless sleepless nights had been because of him, you keep thinking about earlier. As if summoned by your contemplation, your phone lit up, confirming your intuition—it was Jeno.

✧ ✧ ✧

Heejin insisted there was something brewing between you and Jeno, emphasizing the exchanged glances and the countless hours you spent together. Initially, Yeonjun and Soobin dismissed her claims, but once she managed to sway their opinions, you found yourself accused by three people of harbouring feelings for Lee Jeno.

Rather than denying it, you acknowledge the undeniable allure of Jeno. Who wouldn’t be captivated by him? He’s truly one of a kind. However, your feelings for him remain a fantasy, an unrealistic dream. “Even if I do, Heejin, he would never go for me.”

Heejin rolls her eyes at your apparent obliviousness. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Soobin, wearing a puzzled expression, questions you, “Why do you say that?”

“It’s what Yeonjun said to me. He said that he’s a fuckboy, he doesn’t get into relationships and doesn’t want anything serious. Plus, I don’t fit into his scene. We have a lot of fun in my house but I don’t think I’ve ever hung out with him or his friends on campus apart from the occasional small talk, it kinda sucks…”

You regularly find yourself thinking about Yeonjun’s warning and it surprises you because the Lee Jeno you had gotten to know was so different from that. He was kind, caring and thoughtful, you couldn’t imagine him as a notorious fuck boy but if you were being fully honest to yourself, it did make sense. There was no denying that he was horny and incredibly sexual, nor was there denying his unbeatable looks and the attention his presence attracts.

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I can’t believe what I said either. He’s completely different to what I stereotyped him as. He’s still the most popular guy on campus but he’s actually a really sweet and down to earth guy, you know? He cares about his studies but he also cares about having fun, that’s why he always gets high and parties. He’s really humble and having one to one conversations with him is actually life changing, I see why Y/N spends most of her time with him. I’m not gonna lie, I think I’m catching feelings.” Yeonjun laughs, claiming the last bit was a lie, wincing when Soobin smacks him on the head.

“I heard he’s stopped sleeping around, Seoyeon and Nagyung tried to initiate something with him but he turned them down, he’s been turning a lot of people down which is unlike him.” Heejin says, clearly she’s heard all the gossip.

“Why?” You whisper in a faint voice.

The three of them exchange amused glances, and before you can fully grasp the situation, you let out a heavy sigh, accompanied by a crying noise.

“I want him,” you admit, tears welling up as you cry out, letting your emotions take over. Uncertain about why you’re reacting this way, you simply know you can’t deny it any longer – you’ve fallen completely and utterly for him.

Heejin wraps you in a warm hug. “Why are you crying?”

In confusion, a hint of hysteria in your voice, you shake your head. “I don’t know! I just want him.”

The weeks continue and you and Jeno have made good progress on your project, you still spend a lot of time together. There’s a shift in the atmosphere and air now as you actively like him, you try to fight back your feelings when interacting with him but you act on them, in the worst possible way, in fear and awkwardness.

You’re different around him. You don’t know if he can notice it. You confuse yourself, you also confuse Heejin and Yeonjun, who are the only ones who know about your unrequited and secret feelings and you made them promise to not tell anyone (Soobin knows).

You undeniably act crazy, for some reason that’s beyond you, you try and play matchmaker for him. “There’s a girl in my class who’s really pretty and cute, she’s sweet and she’ll suit you. Her name is Karina, do you know her?” You question words that should sound sweet and helpful but there’s a disconnection as you speak.

He shakes his head immediately, “I’m not interested.”

You don’t know why you’re so adamant. “But I heard you like going for girls? She’s a girl, I think she’s interested in you as well.”

He turns it down once again. “I’m sick of all the fucking, maybe I just want something serious.” You wonder if his words are directed at you, or are you delusional? Self doubt fills you, your thoughts attacking and fighting against what you feel in your heart. You’re not his type. He would never go for you.

The atmosphere shifts, leaving you in a state of confusion and anxiety. Trying to deflect, you push, “She’s really pretty, like the prettiest girl on campus.”

“I think you’re prettier,” he says softly, his gaze fixed on you. The air turns serious and intimate as his words linger, weaving into the ambiance, creating a moment where your anxiety and overthinking become almost palpable.

✧ ✧ ✧

What you don’t realise is that Jeno fell for your first.

Underneath the soft glow of string lights in your cozy living room, Jeno sits beside you on the couch. The air is filled with the familiar scent of popcorn, and the soft melody of "About Time" starts playing on the TV. As the scenes of the epic love story unfold, Jeno's eyes occasionally flicker to the screen, but more often, they're drawn to you.

You're completely absorbed in the movie, blissfully unaware of the fact that Jeno has not paid attention to the plot at all, he’s watching you, experiencing a beautiful story unfolding right in front of him. He knows he's fallen in deep when the realisation hits him like a wave.

It’s not like you can complain about his lack of attention towards the screen, it’s not like you paid attention when he made you watch his choice of movie, some geeky sci-fi that you fell asleep to less than halfway through.

The warm, dim light accentuates the gentle curve of your smile as you feed him popcorn, turning to face him and smiling every now and then. He's mesmerised by the way your eyes light up with each romantic scene, and he can't help but smile in response.

The soft giggle that escapes your lips becomes music to his ears, and he finds himself captivated by the subtle nuances of your laughter. The way you effortlessly create an atmosphere of comfort and joy leaves him in awe.

Jeno tries to make sense of the fluttering sensation in his chest, an unfamiliar but welcome feeling. Falling for someone wasn't part of his usual narrative, yet here he is, embracing the complexity of emotions. Your kindness, the shared moments, and the discoveries of common ground are etching memories in his heart.

Despite your differences, the attraction grows stronger. He admires your calmness, a sanctuary he craves, while you find solace in his fearless spirit. Yet, the walls of your connection seem confined to the space within your house, and Jeno feels a longing to extend it beyond.

He suggests hanging out outside, but each invitation is met with your dedication to studies. Parties and town visits are dismissed with a polite reminder of your academic commitments. Jeno understands, even though he wishes to be part of your world beyond the books.

The realisation settles in—he should dislike someone whose life revolves around studying, but he can't bring himself to feel anything but admiration. The mystery of why he's drawn to you, combined with the unspoken tension between you two, leaves Jeno questioning the unexpected turn of his feelings.

He confided in his childhood best friend, the one who knows him the best, Na Jaemin.

Jeno sits on Jaemin’s bed, frustration etched on his face as he scrolls through your social media feed. Each picture elicits a sweet smile from him, and he can’t deny the growing warmth in his chest every time he thinks about you.

“What the fuck is happening to me, Jaemin?” Jeno blurts out, his gaze fixed on your adorable posts. “I never thought I’d fall for her, and now I’m planning our future and naming our hypothetical children.”

The words sound almost surreal as they leave his lips, and Jeno can’t believe he’s uttering such sentiments. Perhaps the alcohol has loosened his inhibitions, his attempt to drown his feelings gone awry as thoughts of you flood his mind.

Frustrated, he barges into Jaemin’s room, pouring out his heart about his unexpected attraction, his desire for you, and the constant presence of your thoughts haunting him.

“So, what do you want to do about it?” Jaemin inquires, assessing his friend’s dilemma.

“I don’t know,” Jeno confesses, uncertainty clouding his expression. The beating sensation in his heart felt so foreign.

“Is this normal?” Jeno asks, his voice laced with fear.

Jaemin can’t help but laugh at the irony. “This is the most normal you’ve ever been.”

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t know how you found yourself indoors on a Friday night, laying on your bed, Lee Jeno beside you, as he talks to you about his favourite sex position.

“I love them all. The doggy, I love being able to touch everything, hips, tits, boobs, while I pound into the pussy like crazy. I love being restrained and tied up. I love when I’m choked or when I choke. I love when someone rides me, uses me to get off, doesn’t let me touch them. Fuck. But I also love sucking on titties while my dick is being bounced up and down on. Y/N, I just love sex.” He finishes with a satisfied sigh, playful eyes looking deep into yours, not breaking contact for even a second as he speaks.

He chuckles, “You?”

You nearly choke. “I – I don’t have as much experience as you but I just like plain old missionary, you know? I like looking into someone's eyes as we’re making love. I crave feeling loved and seen, I want every inch of my body kissed, I want a connection so deep that every worry fades away. I just want to feel loved and appreciated, you know?”

Jeno’s silent, his eyes turning dim as he sees you in a new light. It’s the way he’s looking at you. You blush, your eyes inviting him in a soft whisper. He hums and nods in agreement. “You’re adorable.” His finger moves to nudge your nose and you do the same to him.

“So you’re not a needy slut?” His unexpected change of subject makes you choke. You jab him in the chest, shaking your head, tongue prodding the inside of your cheek as he looks at you with a playfulness. “I always imagined you as one…” He mumbles, his firm grip on your face conveys a powerful desire for your unwavering attention, a silent plea for you to remain captivated by his gaze.

You roll your eyes. “Just because I want to feel loved by my partner doesn’t mean that I don’t have a freaky side.” You pout, crossing your arms as you refuse to look him in the eyes.

“It’s not my fault that I haven’t been given the opportunity to explore that side of me. I mean sure, I want to have crazy sex but when you’re as inexperienced as me, I mean, call me boring but my body count is only 1. What’s yours?”

He ignores your question, asking his own. “You’re not a virgin?” His tone comes across as more perplexing and shocked than he would’ve wanted but when he realises that you’ve not taken it the wrong way, instead you burst out in laughter, he sighs a breath of relief. His eyes light up at how precious your laugh is, it pulls at his heart string and makes him yearn for something that utterly and truly confuses him.

“I used to have a boyfriend.” You mumble, looking down and picking at your nail, a sense of loss in your voice which gives Jeno an unusual tear in his insides. He’s used to seeing you nervous but it still makes him wish he could take everything away.

“Hey.” He smiles, a sweet tone and his gentle fingers come underneath your chin, softly caressing the skin as he turns your face to look his way. Gone were the days where you’d break away from his intimate eye contact due to feeling butterflies. Though the fluttering sensation remains, there’s now an endearing quality that compels you to keep looking.

He doesn’t need to ask for you to open up and explain, you do that without a second thought now, that’s how comfortable you’ve become with him. “It was my first relationship, my first kiss, my first – you know.” You laugh awkwardly and he widens his eyes, tongue prodding against his cheek in annoyance. Why the hell is he annoyed?

“It was perfect. I mean – it seemed perfect. We were so different, in no world could I imagine being together. He was a lot more adventurous than I was, in a lot of ways. He used to party a lot, he had a very big friend group, he was really outgoing and social. He always used to receive so much attention and then obviously me, the only girl he’s ever settled down with, became the negative side of that attention that he got.”

“I realised that our differences didn’t make us an ideal match. I really wanted us to work, I wanted to prove to myself that the person you love doesn’t have to have the same likes and interests as you, because what’s the fun in that? I wanted to fall so badly in love with the world that he was in, I wanted to become familiar with it but it was too much for me. I used to get so overwhelmed with anxiety and pressure, I found myself acting so unlike myself, I didn’t want to change who I was for him but I ended up on that path. I mean, we broke up before it got extreme. It would’ve been easier if he was a cruel person but he wasn’t, he isn’t. I think I realised that I couldn’t put up with his hectic lifestyle, it all just became a bit too much. Sometimes, though, I felt like that relationship ate away at my self worth and that I begin to matter less and less. I feel like I was never good enough –“

“Don’t you ever say that.” He interrupts, not letting you undermine yourself. As he senses your silence and the stillness on your face, he inches closer. It’s now you who can’t tear your gaze away from him, your heart beats as you feel the warmth of his body. He gently wipes away a falling tear, the warmth of his eyes not leaving yours for a second. His hands then securing your shoulders. He pulls you into a warm embrace, you break into sobs, held tightly in his comforting softness.

You’re not sure when but the comfort in the touches escalated to a level that felt unusual for ‘friends’ but it felt so normal for the two of you.

He lays down on your bed, cushioned by the dozen pillows surrounded by you guys but the main thing warming his heart was your body pressed on top of his, your head tucked into the crevice of his neck as he smooths your hair. He occasionally drops kisses to your temple, his reason being that you were crying and he knows your number one comfort in the world is physical touch but he’s run out of his excuse when you stop crying.

You pout against his skin when he suddenly stops smoothing out your hair, he chuckles and immediately starts once again. What you don’t know is that his heart momentarily stopped as your lips made contact with your skin. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced, the flutter of butterflies in his stomach, the quickened beat of his heart like a melody finding its rhythm.

Your eyes meet in a silent exchange, an intimate haven A warmth envelops the air as your gazes intertwine, feelings that make sense, feelings that don’t make sense. The atmosphere is gentle, like a comforting breeze that whispers sweet secrets. In that tender moment, time seems to slow, and the world around you fades into a soft blur.

He rests his palm against your cheek, the contact making a genuine smile spread across your face as you lean into the touch, your cheek rubbing against his palm as you let out a hum of satisfaction. His other hand continues caressing your hair, you normally would’ve been annoyed as he was making fresh hair greasy but you can’t find it in you to act on that, especially not when he’s looking at you the way he is right now.

“I don’t ever wanna hear you say you’re not good enough, ok?” He says and his tone is comforting yet strict, it was conflicting in a way. He nudges your nose with his thumb. “You’re my favourite person right now.”

You nod, looping your arms around his neck in a bid to get closer. “I promise, I won’t.”

He goes silent then tuts, huffing in disbelief. “What about me?” He questions, offended. He’s exaggerating, he’s doing it to make you laugh and he hasn’t failed.

“You’re my favourite person right now too.” You admit, your heart is weighed down with emotion and your voice reveals your depth of feelings

“Did he treat you well?” Jeno asks, brows furrowing in concern, his protective stance making you smile.

“It’s complicated. Sexually, it wasn’t the best. After the relationship passed I realised that my needs and desires weren’t pleased the way I deserved them to be. It was always me getting down on my knees, I think I cummed like twice in the entire three months. It was just –”

“You deserve better than that.”

Jeno's intense gaze deepens, pupils dilating with a mixture of empathy and resolve. "You deserve better than that. You’re so fucking beautiful and intelligent. You’re so cherished. You deserve the best sex that anyone can ever give you, every need met. You deserve to cum a thousand times a night. I promise I’ll show you.” The tension in the air grows thicker as he leans in closer to you, just when you think he’s gonna kiss you, he smiles, his promise carrying a soft reassurance. It’s one that confuses you but you can’t deny the way your eyes lit up and the soreness of your cheeks from smiling.

A silence passes and it’s both exciting and terrifying. He’s never looked at you like this before. You want to ask him what he’s feeling, to act in the way that he’s looking at you and holding you but a part of you doesn’t have the confidence for that yet.

“Now you need to tell me, what’s up with everyone telling me you’re a fuckboy?” You question him, a poor way on your behalf to move the conversation forward.

You can see that he’s taken aback by your question in his eyes but they twinkle nonetheless. “I just love having sex.” He answers quickly and bluntly, eyes deep into yours as he reveals his truth, you try to laugh off your nerves but his gaze is locking with such intensity into yours. He chuckles at your reaction, at how red and flustered you’ve become. He loves this.

“I’m not a fuckboy though. You know me, you don’t think I’m mean, do you?”

You shake your head immediately, gulping and tearing your eyes from him as he calls you a good girl. He means it harmlessly but it fucks with your head. You quickly talk to ignore the racing beat of your heart. “You’re so sweet and kind to me – ” You laugh, stopping mid sentence to pinch his cheeks which to your surprise, he doesn’t even stop you from doing. “But Jeno… I’ve seen you be quite unfriendly to other people.”

“They deserve it.” He answers with no hesitation.

“I still don’t get why everyone kept speaking about you like you were a notorious fuckboy, you know so many people warned me to stay away from you, I obviously didn’t listen.”

He sighs, scratching his neck. “They’re just jealous that we get along so well but it doesn’t bother me because at the end of the day, we’re making the best memories together. And people don’t know the true story, they just comment on what they see and assume the worst. I’m not a fuckboy like that. Yeah sure, I like, well I used to like sleeping around but I was never a ‘rude fuck boy’. I have respect for each and every girl I sleep with, I make sure they’re cared for, before and after we’re fucking, that they feel good at all times whilst they’re with me. I make sure they don’t feel like I’m just using them for sex even though I don’t want anything further with these girls, I make it clear that the only thing I’m looking for is good sex and they always know that before going into it with me, it avoids disappointment and high expectations. Although I’ve had problems before, it doesn’t matter.”

He explains and a silence follows. You have so many thoughts, so many questions you want to ask and you don’t know where to start but before you know it, one is spilling from your lips before you can properly think of what you’re asking. “Why did you stop?”

He hums, looking at you and raising an eyebrow.

“You said you ‘used’ to like fucking around, why have you stopped?”

“What do you think?”

You hiss in annoyance, he’s normally always keen to explain and talk through everything and anything to you so why is he being so secretive and blunt right now? You don’t understand why he’s keeping his words to a minimum.

“I don’t know so can you stop being so –”

“How am I supposed to have sex with these girls when I’m wishing that they were you?”

In the warm, charged air, their breaths mix like a dance, full of longing. Just a few words reshape everything. It's weird – no nerves or awkwardness, just a flutter in your heart, embraced in the moment. He holds you with strong arms, bodies fitting together perfectly. His captivating eyes connect with yours deeply. It feels just right, a special moment.

"Jeno," you say softly, and he responds with a hum.

"Yeah. I want you," he says, his thumb gently touching your bottom lip.

His radiant grin and those mesmerising eyes captivate your attention, urging you to keep gazing at him but you have a better idea. Your tender lips meet his, your eyes naturally close, succumbing to the delicate touch. The kiss, a mere caress of skin against skin, sparks a delightful frenzy within, setting your entire being alight. Immobile, you find yourself unable to resist, and there's no desire to. In this moment, you yearn for time to stretch indefinitely – the subtle hint of cinnamon warmth, the fragrance of fresh rain, and the exquisite sensation of his breath mingling with yours – a wish for this enchanting experience to linger.

Lost in each other's lips and locked in a gaze that speaks volumes, the night unfolds with passionate embraces and tangled limbs. You feel Jeno's desire, a palpable energy that fuels the connection. His scent, a mix of warmth and subtle cologne, envelops you, adding another layer to the sensory experience.

The kisses are intense and insatiable, each touch leaving an indelible mark on the night. Jeno's lips move with purpose, exploring and igniting a fervor that courses through both of you. The taste of him is addictive, the play of tongues an intricate dance of desire. As you straddle him, the heat between you grows, the kisses deepening in both intensity and intimacy.

It's not just a physical connection; it's a shared exploration of passion. Jeno's hands on your body convey a hunger matched by your own, creating an electric current that courses through every touch. The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and the symphony of kisses, creating a sensory tapestry that encapsulates the entirety of this unforgettable night.

✧ ✧ ✧

As soon as you open the door, you barely have time to recollect your thoughts or greet him as his lips are pressed against yours.

He grabbed you firmly, and backed you up against the wall beside the door as he swiftly closed it. His lips come crashing into yours, tongue adjacent. You barely had time to think or react. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes met yours with a smile.

“Hello to you too.” You whimper, his lips kissing along your jaw, while his hands slid along your body.

He breaks it up as he senses it’s getting too heated, you’re both breathing heavily and flustered. His eyes sparkle as he takes in your appearance, bottom lip tugged under his teeth as he looks you up and down. “You look cute.” He compliments.

You give him a giddy smile, feeling hot as his heated gaze is still taking in all of your body and he’s not hiding it. You’re laughing against his shoulder when he pulls you in for a warm hug, the embrace filling your veins with joy. He kisses your cheek, you tie your hands together and realise you really do look cosy. You were in the fluffiest of socks, your hair was in a messy bun and you were wearing your glasses. Your cheeks heat up when you remember that you were only wearing a t-shirt and underwear, you were sure he could see your nipples peek through your flimsy top and if you rose ever so slightly, your panties would be on show.

“I dress for comfort.” You say with pride.

“And I don’t?”

You shake your head, you were honest and unfiltered. “You really don’t, every day is like a runaway for you but I’m not complaining.” He always looks hot.

“Why are you so dressed up right now?” You question, glancing sideways to look at the clock. “It’s 1am. What are you even doing right now?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“What have you been doing?” He reverses his question back to you.

You clap your hands with excitement and he can’t help but grin at how cute he finds you like this. “I’ve been working on the assignment. Do you want me to show you all I’ve worked on?” You question, hand already in his and you’re ready to drag him to your room before he interjects.

“You should’ve showed me earlier when I was trying to sleep.” He is completely unfazed. Kissing your forehead as his form of apology when you start sulking. You grab his tie, the action making him flustered which you don’t realise.

You fiddle with the material. Eyes dancing over him again.

He exudes attractiveness in smart trousers that complement his silhouette perfectly, paired with a meticulously fitted shirt. Every detail oozes of confidence, from the crisp lines of the trousers to the way the shirt hugs his muscular and broad form with tailored precision. His black leather jacket is resting against his shoulders, adding warmth and comfort to his attire. “You still haven’t told me, why are you so dressed up?”

He doesn’t answer at first so you loop your arms around his neck to ensure his full attention is on you. He seems a bit distracted, you realise he’s looking down as your shirt has risen, he’s looking at your lace underwear peeking through, the all so familiar heat in his eyes that you’re so used to.

“Hey!” He meets your eyes with an apologetic yet guilty glance, he truly couldn’t help himself. He bites his lips and you take the time to truly take him all in.

His hair, pitch black and casually slicked back, has a few stray strands escaping the gel, falling playfully over his forehead. Your hand naturally reaches to caress the hair on his neck, enjoying its length. Fingers moving to dangle against his earrings, adoring how he was always so dressed up, he took so much pride in his appearance and the attentiveness was hot.

His face is like something out of a magazine, intense, heated eyes, soft cheeks, lips still swollen from your kisses, a sharp jawline, and the cutest dimples. He looks stunning, surpassing anyone you've seen before. It's not just his looks; the way he looks at you confirms he's a masterpiece, as if he's walked out of an impressionist painting.

His sides of his lips curve up in the most boyish smile as he checks you checking him out. “You think I’m sexy?” He questions, voice purposefully low and seductive. You’ve learnt that he’s quite shameless and cheeky, he has no limit or shame.

“Answer me.” He says as you’re silent.

“Yeah.” You answer simply, voice coming in a small whisper which makes him coo at how cute you are.

He kisses your lips briefly before finally telling you why he’s come to you in such attire. “You’ll see why I’m so dressed up in about an hour.“ He looks at his watch before finishing. “And now you’re gonna be dressed up.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he moves your arms from around his neck so he can take your hand in his, walking the two of you outside to where his car is parked. He opens the passenger door with one hand, pulling you in front of him with his other, arm coming to rest around your front, his compact yet soft hold keeping you in place against his body heat, flush against flush. You’re so close to him.

You feel an electric shock of butterflies surge through your veins when he leans over to grab the bags on the seat, you lean over in tow. He’s made it difficult for himself to grab the bags by placing you in front of him but you learn that he’s just content to feel your body against his, you never realised how touchy and clingy he truly could be. He rests his head against your shoulder, kissing the skin below your ear as he sighs when you relish in his touch, leaning back into him, closing your eyes in bliss. Truth is, you find yourself craving for his touchy side.

“I don’t want you to get cold.” He explains himself. It’s his excuse, how could you get cold when you’ve been outside for a mere minute? You giggle when he ends the moment to drag you back inside. It was definitely an excuse.

“What the hell is in these bags?” You question, eyes widening as you look at the brands. This was a lot of money.

“Well, I remember you telling me that you felt like you didn’t have enough going out clothes so I got you some that I know you’d look really good in.” He explains like it’s nothing, laughing as he sees your agape mouth and startled eyes. No one has ever done this for you.

“You shouldn’t have!”

After a lot of back and forth, you trying to reject the gifts, him telling you to shush and to just accept this gesture, you finally accept the gifts with hesitation, promising him that you’ll make it up to him.

“When did you even have time to go shopping?” He left your house at around 10pm with a kiss to your forehead, telling you he had some university work to do. He felt guilty as you pleaded him to stay the night but he promised he would another day.

“I just couldn’t sleep, I kept thinking about you.” He explains, his honesty being a major turn on for you.

“I told you not to go.” You mumble with a pout.

“Well I’m here now.”

“I went shopping for you. It didn’t take long, I know what you like.” He says and you’re left wondering how?. You don’t even think you know yourself like that, whenever you’re shopping it’s always a lengthy struggle.

He leans down and your eyes nearly tear at how attractive he truly is.

His shirt clings to his muscles, showing off the definition in his lean and toned chest as he leans down, rummaging through the bags with a determined look. Your thirst is quenched by the view of his thighs, snug and fabulous, displaying their shape in a really appealing way.

He finally finds what he’s looking for with a satisfying grin, leaning up and handing over the material gently in your hands. Your skin beams at the luxurious silk, it’s smooth texture inviting a gentle caress in your hand. “You’re gonna wear this one.” He asks, more like tells but you don’t have a problem with it. Seeing the mere satisfaction he gets from telling you to wear a dress that he’s brought out for you and one that he likes is enough to make you feel confident and secure in the choice.

“You know my size?” You question in suprise, eyeing the label as you speak.

He wiggles his eyebrows, a smirk plastered on his face. “Of course I do.” His tone is playful.

You look at him with surprise, this is a side to him that’s so unexpected and different. Jenos, once more reserved and friendly with you, underwent a noticeable transformation when he received the green light of your interest in him. The subtle shift in his demeanour revealed a confidence that he had been hiding, he began to explore a more touchy and sensual side. His interactions became imbued with a palpable energy, as if he had unlocked a deeper connection and sought to express it through physical closeness. The change in his actions spoke volumes about the impact of your reciprocated feelings, turning moments of restraint into an exploration of intimacy.

The unexpected emergence of Jenos' flirty, touchy, and loving side sparked a thrilling response, stirring a sense of arousal. The contrast from his previous reserved nature amplified the allure, creating a magnetic pull of excitement. The novelty of exploring this unanticipated dimension of his personality added a layer of passion, turning the ordinary into an exhilarating adventure. The element of surprise, coupled with the genuine connection, heightened the attraction and fueled a sense of desire for the uncharted territories of this newfound intimacy.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Black.” You and him answer at the same time and his eyes lift up in satisfaction. You’re questioning two things, why would he ask if he already knows? And how does he know so much about you? It makes you question whether you’re an open book or whether he’s just so attentive and observant, you know it’s the latter. Even your best friend doesn’t know this much about you.

“You know, your favourite colour doesn’t match your personality.” He whispers, leaning down, his breath caressing your ear before his whisper does. “It makes me so much more intrigued by you, I know you have a side that you haven’t shown anyone, I can’t wait until you’re ready to show me it.”

You’re stunned by his words but he doesn’t even give you time to react fully or respond. “Try it on.”

“But where are we going?” You question, lips in a pout, cheeks flushed and eyes soft, hoping it would evoke sympathy so he’d tell you as you can’t stand surprises but he doesn’t budge.

“What’s with all the questions?” He says in an amused tone, secretly loving how you were freaking out inside.

“I –“

“Don’t you trust me?” He says, voice gentle and heart sincere.

“Of course I do.” You answer without thinking. He’s earned your trust through time.

“Good girl.” He smiles, thumb caressing your bottom lip, looking down at you with equal amounts of trust and appreciation in his eyes. What you felt for each other was undeniable and unquestionably mutual. “Now go change.”

Your eyes widen and your cheeks become flustered, a redness that was starting to become usual around him. He pecks your lips before closing his eyes in front of you, covering his eyes with his palm before turning around. “Is this okay?” He questions and you nod, telling him yes.

Sliding into the dress feels like a graceful embrace, the feeling heightened as you know it’s picked out and chosen by Jeno. The silk glides effortlessly over your skin, casting a sensation. As it inches up, there's a gentle caress against your legs and thighs, and the dress wraps you in a luxurious cocoon, creating a heightened sense of elegance and allure.

You let out a shudder of cold breath when you realise that there’s a zip on the back, one that you probably would have reached with some effort but you had a better idea. “Jeno.” You call out to him, your faint voice filling the hot atmosphere.

“You’re finished?” He says, palm still over his eyes and they wouldn’t move until you told him so.

“Just turn around.”

A rush of breath escapes him as he emerges from a minute of darkness, greeted by the captivating sight of your back. The silhouette reveals a subtle curve, the graceful lines drawing his attention, and a mix of anticipation and wonder floods through him at the unexpected beauty unveiled before his eyes.

“Can you help me with the zip?” You ask, shyly, not knowing what to feel as you were met with his silence.

“Yes.” He answers and for the first time, he sounds speechless in your presence.

His fingers trace a delicate path along the exposed skin as he slowly zips up the back of your dress, eyes following in awe. The metallic whisper of the zipper weaves a subtle melody, punctuating the intimacy of the moment. The fabric yields to your touch, caressing your spine in a tender dance. Each upward motion is a silent promise, creating an electric connection between you, as if sealing the dress is an act of sealing the shared passion. The room is filled with an unspoken language, where every tug of the zipper threads binds you closer, making the ritual of dressing a ritual of desire. His fingertips create an intimate connection, his touch lingering as if etching a map on your spine. You’ve never felt closer.

“Done.” He whispers with a kiss to the back of your neck, leaving his lips there to linger, the feeling of his skin against yours leaving goosebumps.

“Thank you.” You mumble, moving to turn around and face him but before you can do so, his hands around your waist secure you. He moves your hair from one side and tucks it behind your ear, you relish in his touch, breath hitching in your throat when you realise you’re both standing in front of the mirror.

Your own reflection is a welcome surprise. The dress hugs your curves beautifully, accentuating them in a way you could’ve never imagined. The cleavage on show makes you feel shy but the way Jeno’s looking at you takes it all away. You can see how he’s looking at you through the reflection, his eyes carrying such intensity and heat, it speaks of desire.

His voice, a symphony of sensuality and seduction, whispered, "You look so beautiful, baby." His eyes, filled with desire, traced an enchanting path across your form, lingering on the curves that the dress embraced so gracefully. A subtle, knowing smile played upon his lips as his fingertips delicately explored those curves.

“Can you see how beautiful you look?” He pressed a soft kiss against your skin, the intimacy heightened as you pressed back, sighing as you melted fully into him. In that moment, the air was filled with the magnetic allure of shared affection, an intimate atmosphere that bound you together in the dance of whispered words, gentle kisses, and the tender touch that spoke volumes.

He hums when you haven’t answered.

“Yes.” You answer simply, not knowing that you could feel this way.

“Can I put your hair up?” He questions, voice coming out as a quiet lull. You nod, your hair is already in a messy bun but you assume he wanted to do it neatly.

You look in astonishment as he focuses on you with his full attention, smoothing out the strands and putting everything in place before creating what could’ve possibly been the best hairstyle you’ve ever seen on yourself. It was an elegant bun, framing pieces giving a whole new level of sophistication and elegance to your look, his attention to detail surprised you.

You laugh and it unexpectedly brings humour to such a heated and intimate moment. “When did you learn how to do all this?” You question, he could do hair better than you.

“I like when your hair is up.” He whispers into your ear, a playfulness deep in his tone which fucks with your head even more.

“You look so much better than I could’ve imagined and trust me, I’ve thought about you in this dress about a hundred times since buying it.” He admits, his hands glued to your curves, he’s unable to stop caressing them.

The dress was so utterly breathtaking. “Thank you Jeno, really.” You express your gratitude, looking in the mirror and admiring the sight of your own reflection once again.

The dress is crafted from lavish black satin, so enchanting, a lustrous sheen that catches the light with every movement. The fabric gracefully cascades, accentuating the contour and curves of your body while maintaining an air of refinement. Delicate lace embellishments trace along the neckline and hem, The plunging neckline subtly accentuates your cleavage, a sight that was welcoming and new, it adds a touch of allure without being overly revealing. Its captivating elegance lies in the delicate balance between sophistication and subtle seduction, making it the most secure and perfect choice for you.

You turn around in his hold, looking up at him with the most fervent eyes before you close the small distance between you both.

Your lips met his in a passionate embrace, a desperate dance of desire. The heat of the moment intensified as he kissed you back, moulding your mouths together, creating an electric connection. Soft sighs and gentle moans lingered in the air, merging with the intoxicating warmth. It was a steamy, lingering kiss—a fusion of longing and urgency that left you both breathless, lost in the sensual currents of the shared moment.

You back away with a whimper, breathing heavily and feeling unsatisfied. Just as you’re about to kiss him back, his words cut you off. “We have to go, we’re gonna be late.” His voice is forced and pushed out, leaving you with a small pout as you follow his lead, hand ingrained in his as he walks you to the car.

His hand doesn’t let go of yours as he’s driving. You possibly can’t imagine him being any more attractive than he is in this current moment, although you don’t know that you’re in for a surprise.

As he navigates the empty road, his strong, defined arms confidently grip the steering wheel. The hum of the engine harmonises with the low timbre of his voice as he occasionally speaks to you, the small talk filling the atmosphere but never once feeling awkward or forced.

His fingers entwine with yours in a silent promise. The occasional soft kisses on your hand punctuate the drive, moments of affection seamlessly woven into the rhythm of your journey. It’s like he can’t go a moment without him touching or kissing you, little do you know that this is only the start…

Your eyes carry a magnetic allure as he parallel parks so swiftly, something that you’re both envious and turned on by. The concentration that furrows his brow makes you smile at how breathtaking he looks.

“You’re staring.” Eyes not leaving the road as he fills the silence, turning around to face you for a split second with that smirk that pulls at your heart strings.

“You look hot.”

You look around when you’ve realised he’s parked, it’s a house that’s unfamiliar to you. “We’re at your house?” You assume, stepping out the car once he’s opened the door for you, hand finding yours once again.

He nods. “Yeah I left my wallet.”

You stop for a second and look up at the house, eyes narrowing when you realise you can see light through the windows, he explains that he has roommates, people you haven’t met before. Some sound familiar, some don’t. Jaemin, Donghyuck, Renjun.

“Come.” He smiles, arms outstretched when he sees hesitation in your walk and face.

Just as you’re about to walk in, you feel unsettled and confused, you look at each other and you’re surprised to see that he’s just as confused as you are. Was this a frat house? That was the only solid explanation you could think of at the moment because why was it so loud? You hear excruciating loud music from outside, the sensation making you wince and cover your ears, this truly sounded like the worst music you’ve ever heard. You see beer bottles scattered outside and you jump when the front door opens and drunken people come in and out the house, some staring at you, some are too wasted to even notice you but they all acknowledge Jeno, it overwhelms you just how many people recognise and greet him, was he that well known and popular?

“What day is it?”

You raise your eyebrows, confused as to why he doesn’t know. “It’s Sunday.”

He curses immediately, gritting his teeth, his features arranging into pure frustration. “I’m supposed to be hosting this party, I’ve completely forgotten.” He raised his voice over the crowd of people, merely giving him the bare minimum greeting when they shout his name. He's more concerned about maneuvering through the crowd, hand in hand, trying to get to a quiet room which seemed impossible due to the sheer volume of people partying.

You throb with an overwhelming intensity. The room is buzzing with a cacophony of laughter, music, and clinking glasses that engulfs the crowded space. The pulsating bass shakes the floor as bodies move in a chaotic dance, lost in the rhythm. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol, mingling with the pungent aroma of various substances. In every corner, couples share passionately making out, their connection heightened by the vibrant atmosphere. Drunken people stumble through the crowd, their laughter blending with the ambient noise. It's a sensory overload of sights and sounds, it takes a toll on you going from such a quiet and intimate place with Jeno to this complete extreme, an intoxicating atmosphere.

As you and Jeno intertwine your fingers and walk through the crowd, a ripple of hushed whispers and lingering gazes follow you. Your connection becomes a focal point, drawing a spectrum of reactions from the surrounding onlookers. Some shoot judgmental glares, their eyes carrying a hint of intimidation and it’s aimed at you, Meanwhile, others wear expressions of genuine confusion and intrigued interest, as if trying to decipher an unexpected puzzle.

The weight of attention becomes suffocating, and your thoughts spiral with self-consciousness. You second guess every move, hyper-aware of the disapproving looks and the prying eyes. The once vibrant atmosphere of the party morphs into a claustrophobic maze, trapping you in a cycle of anxious thoughts. Jeno squeezes your hand reassuringly, but the external pressures persist, triggering a sense of vulnerability.

"Jeno, everyone is staring," you whisper under your breath, unsure if he can even hear. His response is a subtle tightening of his grip on you, silently manoeuvring you in front of him. His hands then find the sides of your face, his captivating eyes drawing you in, offering an inviting refuge that makes you forget the penetrating stares.

Your heart rate steadies as he leans in, connecting his lips to yours in a surprising move. You're taken aback, wondering how he remains unfazed by the judgmental looks. It's as if he's accustomed to the attention, his confidence astonishing you. You yearn to emulate his ability to brush off the scrutiny, but the weight of judgement lingers, a stark contrast to his composed demeanour

Feeling the tension in the air, Jeno senses your unease. Without a word, he slips off his leather jacket, the scent of familiarity enveloping you as it drapes over your shoulders. The jacket, infused with his comforting essence, serves as a shield against the prying eyes and judgement.

As you pull the jacket close, the soft leather and his distinct scent create a cocoon of security. The tactile reminder of his presence eases the nervous knot in your stomach. In that shared moment under the jacket's reassuring weight, the party's chaos fades into the background, replaced by a quiet sanctuary that Jeno, with his thoughtful gesture, has crafted just for you.

“How do you forget that you’re supposed to be hosting a party?” You question, breathing a sigh of relief when he’s finally found a vacant room, closing the door behind you and immediately pressing you against the wall, content on just holding you close to him.

“I told you, I’ve only been thinking about you. You fuck me up so much.” Jeno confesses, his voice laden with desperation and a hint of a low moan. It’s a confession painted with a mix of desire and torment.

“Jeno.” You sigh, voice laden with the same desperation and hint of low moan. Your breath catches at Jeno's intense confession, his words hanging in the air like a charged current. The vulnerability in his voice resonates with you, and a swirl of emotions envelops your senses. A mixture of surprise, desire, and a tinge of uncertainty dances in your eyes as you meet his gaze.

His expression swiftly shifts to one of apology, that beloved grin fading as he peppers your face with spongy and delicate kisses. "I’m so sorry," he whispers against your skin, his words leaving you with a sense of uncertainty and questioning.

“I can’t leave.” His tone is fixed and set and it leaves you silent, a frown on your lips as he explains himself. “I have a responsibility. Even though I completely forgot that I’m throwing this party, I’m still the host. if something happens under my roof, under my party. I just – I can’t have that.”

“What could go wrong?”

He truly can’t believe you’re asking that, he widens his eyes in surprise. “So much. It’s mainly the concern of dodgy people selling drugs and fights. I need to monitor it.”

You rarely get angry and even though you’re not, you feel the first sign of it. “It’s not your responsibility. Why do you always throw parties?”

“To give people a good time and it’s for me as well, I love getting high and partying.”

The judgement in your tone is faint but you can’t help it. “Are you sure it gives you a good time? You know you need to put yourself first. You could just… I don’t know… go to the cinema or go to the pub for a wind down. Does it always have to be clubbing, drinking, alcohol and drugs?”

You can’t even tell if your words had any effect on him as he simply doesn’t react. It’s like he’s ignored everything that you’ve said. He’s quick to change the subject. “Please can you stay? I’ll get an uber for you if you can’t but it will feel really pointless if I can’t be with you after all this.”

You purse your lips and contemplate. “ This isn’t really my scene.”

“I’ll be with you the whole night.”

You’re silent, contemplating, making a list of pros and cons in your head. You know that if it takes you this long to decide something then you should probably just go against it but it’s the way he’s looking at you which is making you consider staying. He’s totally checking you out. Eyes lingering on you with an intensity. His eyes trace the curve of your shoulders, gaze holding a certain hunger, lingering on the subtle contours of your figure, appreciating the sensuality in every curve. It's a magnetic stare, filled not just with desire but also a deep, sultry fascination, as if savouring the allure of someone already known but continually unveiling new layers.

"Do you feel good? Do you feel sexy?" He breathes into your ear, a seductive murmur that elicits a whimper. He's a master at this game, a menace, knowing exactly how to coax a "yes" from your lips.

“I do.”

“It will be a shame if you don’t stay.” He peers deep into your eyes, his gaze pleading, and his lips forming a pout.

“Why?”

“You’re someone who deserves to be shown off,” he confesses, taking your hand above your head and spinning you around. He whistles at the sight of you. “I wanna show everyone what and who they’re missing out on.”

“You look so fucking good.”

At this moment you think about your ex. You wanted to be more outgoing for him, it’s not that you wanted to change who you were, you just wanted to be more adaptable and better at adapting to surroundings and atmospheres you’re unfamiliar with but you failed to do so for him, your own insecurities and lack of self confidence led to the ultimate break up.

You don’t want the same to happen, you want to be a better version of yourself. Maybe you’ll have a good time, who knows?

You nod and he smiles. “Thank you, baby.”

“I’m not gonna drink though. I know that’s gonna be like avoiding the plague in a setting like this but I don’t want to even go near alcohol. I don’t know how your parties work but if someone tries to give me a drink or even sell to me I’m gonna be so uncomfortable.”

He tightens his grip on your hand, if even possible. “I’ll be with you, don’t worry.”

“Maybe I’ll have one drink if my favourite wine is here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You drink?”

"I don’t mind a glass every now and then; I just don’t like intense drinking; it gives me a headache," you say, pouting slightly. He can't help but find you incredibly cute, yet the paradox of your differences intrigues him. You, the last girl he imagined falling for, bring a delicious thrill down his spine. The contrast in your preferences and personalities adds a layer of excitement, making every moment with you an unpredictable journey he's more than willing to explore.

He speaks as he opens the door, leading you out of the confined room. “What’s your favourite drink?”

“I like a glass of Moscato here and there.” You smile, you’d love it right now. Its delicate notes of peach and orange blossom provide a pleasant, easy-going flavor that suits your taste preferences. This choice allows for you to have an occasional, milder indulgence without the heaviness often associated with other wines.

“Just keep by my side, ignore everyone else.” He sweetly smiles.

As you exit the confined room, You feel a newfound assurance coursing through you. With Jeno by her side, a steady and comforting presence, you navigate through the vibrant chaos of the party with a relaxed demeanour. The pulsating music and lively chatter now serve as a backdrop to your shared world. You don’t know how long it will last.

Jeno, true to his promise, remains a constant support, his hand lightly resting on the small of your back, a subtle reassurance that empowers you. As you step back into the lively atmosphere, Your gaze meets the curious and judgmental stares with newfound confidence. The weight of scrutiny dissipates, replaced by a sense of self-assurance, as you and Jeno seamlessly blend into the rhythm of the party, ready to enjoy the night together.

Moments later, Jeno gives you a cup, a knowing and prideful glint in his eyes as he does so, you eye it with confusion and wonder if he understood any of what you said to him but when he tells you to just trust him, you can’t fight with that.

As you take a sip, the liquid cascades down your throat, awakening a familiar sensation that extends beyond the taste buds. Moscato. The rich warmth of the beverage creates a parallel with the comfort you feel in Jeno's presence. It's not just the drink; it's the uncanny similarity between the smooth, familiar taste and the ease you experience with him.

“You’re unbelievable.” You mutter. In this moment, as you feel the warmth of the alcohol and his attentive gesture, your trust in Jeno deepens, a subtle fire of desire kindling within you. No one has ever made her feel so seen and appreciated, and the subtle undercurrent of attraction you feel for him heightens with each sip and lingering gaze.

“Try it.” You offer it to him, wide eyed with excitement as you hand him the same cup you drink from.

He has the smallest sip you’ve ever seen, giving you the fakest smile, you bite your tongue to hold back the laughter. “Mmmmhh.” He says, the enthusiasm not sounding wholehearted.

“You hate it.” You laugh and he nods, pouring one of his favourite beverages into another cup, when he makes you drink a sip of his for good measure, you nearly gag.

“Do we have anything in common?”

He shakes his head but answers sweetly. “It doesn’t matter.”

As time unfolds, Jeno's attentive nature becomes a delightful revelation, driving you to appreciate his considerate gestures. A dedicated table adorned with your favourite wine showcases a level of thoughtfulness that doesn't go unnoticed. While you're not going overboard with the drinks, the comfort of having the choice makes the evening feel personalised.

His attention extends to the music, playing tunes that align with your preferences. The amusing looks of distaste he expresses to certain songs add a playful touch, making the atmosphere all the more enjoyable. To top it off, the order includes the food you love, a shared delight in the delicious sushi, creating a thrilling connection between you both. Jeno's attentiveness transforms the evening into a curated experience, and you find yourself revelling in the charm of these thoughtful nuances.

“Don’t touch that.” He warns the partygoer who has his hand outstretched, ready to eat the sushi.

“It’s ok.” You shake your head, amused at Jeno.

People are saying hi to him every second, he returns the greetings and your eyes widen every time at the mass volume of faces you see, they’re all unfamiliar, it makes you think that you truly do stick with your two friends and that’s it.

It’s attractive how he can have his attention on so much yet at the same time, he monitors the party well. He’s stopped a few fights from happening and has kicked out anyone he doesn’t want here. He’s had his eye on everything and it proves a success, nothing has gone wrong. You feel like his mere presence just prevents disaster.

As he’s focusing on other things, it still feels like his full attention is on you, he’s stayed right by your side like he promised. He’s even introduced you to a few of his friends, you like to think of it more as acquaintances, there’s no way someone can have that many friends.

He whispers sweet words in your ears every now and then, his soft voice comforting you and taking you away from this lively setting.

“Let’s dance, baby.”

He’s a natural and he’s so attractive it almost starts to hurt.

You’re captivated by him, his movements seamlessly syncing with the rhythm. There's an innate allure in the way he moves, a magnetic confidence that radiates from every step and sway. The play of lights accentuates the contours of his figure, highlighting the subtle strength in his dance. As he loses himself in the music, a certain intensity flickers in his eyes, adding an extra layer to his already enticing presence. Watching Jeno move becomes a tantalising experience, awakening a newfound appreciation for the magnetic and undeniably sexy allure he effortlessly emanates

“Just let loose, baby.”

You do just that.

In the intimate embrace of the dance, your bodies press flush against each other, a magnetic connection that defies the rhythm of the music. Jeno's lips find yours in a heated dance of their own, exploring with fervour. His hands trace the contours of your body, igniting sparks of desire with every touch. In this heated moment, the world dissolves, and his focus is solely on you. It's a dance where lips speak volumes, and the only audience that matters is the intoxicating connection shared between you two.

You feel happy. Your heart beats to a melody of sheer bliss, and a contagious smile graces your lips. You realise he doesn’t shy away from PDA, he’s very touchy. You know he’s held back for so long when the two of you were just friends but now that he has the green light that you like him too, it’s full on. You thought he had become 100% with you, little do you know he’s still holding back.

“Where were we gonna go?” You ask him, curious as to what the plan was before you unexpectedly came to his party.

“It was a reservation at that place you told me about.”

Your mouth opens wide, shocked that he managed to reserve it but also sorrowful that you couldn’t make it. You much rather be there with him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll book it for another day.” He promises.

✧ ✧ ✧

Later that night, you find yourself sitting on his lap, falling deeply into the solace in your room, the atmosphere shifting from the chaotic party to an intimate haven. Legs on either side of him, you comfortably straddle Jeno, who's clearly a bit wasted. His eyelids have doubled in size, and he exudes a more flamboyant and touchy demeanour.

It's a welcomed change from the loud festivities, just the two of you basking in the quietude of the room. Smiles exchanged between you carry the weight of shared moments, and eye smiles speak volumes in the silence. There's a comfortable simplicity in the lack of conversation; you find contentment in merely sitting together.

Jeno, under the influence, becomes even more touchy, his hands finding solace on your thighs. In this tranquil haven, his touches add a layer of warmth, creating a cocoon of intimacy where unspoken connections thrive. The night unfolds with a unique serenity, a delicate dance between smiles, touches, and the quiet companionship that transcends words.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your bottom lip slightly pouted with guilt as Jeno winces. Amidst the tender touches, you've also been tending to his wounds. Despite Jeno's insistence on preventing fights at his parties, he made an exception this time. The guy had crossed a line, taking upskirt photos and making several girls uncomfortable. Jeno, unable to tolerate such behavior, took matters into his own hands, resulting in his current state.

As you carefully dab sanitized cotton pads on his wounds, placing plasters where needed, a quiet understanding passes between you two. Jeno's soft eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the silent acknowledgment of the unwavering bond you share transcends the chaos of the night.

Jeno is a mixture of emotions, pain and pleasure, he’s huffing and puffing. It all comes to a halt when you lean forward with an endearing tenderness, kissing the spots where he is hurt. Your lips, soft and gentle, leave a trail of comfort over each injury, a healing touch that goes beyond the physical.

Jeno, despite the pain, finds himself captivated by your sweetness. Your cute and gentle demeanor sparks a warmth within him, and a subtle smile plays on his lips. The intimacy of the moment transcends the physical, creating a connection that's as soothing as it is alluring. In this exchange, the boundary between care and desire blurs, leaving you immersed in a shared space.

You’ve never seen him as needy as he is right now.

“You don’t regret tonight, do you?” His voice sounds lower and deeper.

You think about how much went off track tonight but the unpredictability was a welcome surprise for you, you felt settled and secure. “I don’t.”

“You’re such a good girl.” He says, voice filled with adoration, words whispered in a low moan.

As the night breathes tranquility into the room, Jeno's hands find their way to the zipper of your dress, mirroring the earlier gesture of care when he zipped you up. Now, in the quiet confines of your room, the air charged with a subtle intimacy, he gently unzips your dress. The delicate touch of his hands grazing your back sends a shiver down your spine, an unspoken promise lingering in the atmosphere.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's touches transition from practical to tender. At some point, his lips find the curve of your back, planting kisses that create a symphony of sensations. Each touch, each kiss, weaves a delicate narrative of a shared connection, an uncharted intimacy unfolding in the hushed moments of the night. The room becomes a haven where gestures speak louder than words, and the dance of hands and kisses paints a portrait of a connection that transcends the boundaries of the night.

“My. Good. Girl.” He says between kisses.

In the soft glow of the room, Jeno's passionate kisses ignite a fervor between you and him. Your dress remains unzipped, a subtle invitation that adds an electric charge to the moment. As you straddle him, a perceptible difference in his demeanour emerges — a heightened passion, electrified and intensified, likely due to being under the influence. Each touch a silent confession that speaks louder than words in the hushed ambiance of the room. He tastes like blueberries, you were sure it was the artificial flavour of the vape he had been smoking from all night,

You gently break the kiss, both of you left flustered and breathless, the air pulsating with a shared intensity that hangs between you. The unspoken energy lingers, leaving a charged silence that speaks volumes. This is a lot for you. Before you carry on, you want to know where you stand because you really fucking like him and you trust him, you’ve never imagined that you could be capable of having such strong feelings.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

He’s silent for a while and your heart nearly stops. You knew it. You fucking knew it. It was too good to be true.

Just as you were about to get the hell out of here, to recollect whatever you had left in you, he turns to you with the gentlest expression you’ve seen from him yet. It’s there, unmistakably, in the warmth of his eyes—a promise of trust and a sentiment you can fall for.

You’ve never wanted him more than you do in this moment, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he utters it loud and clear, his voice a proclamation of emotions. “Yeah,” he says, smiling at your shy reaction, and in that moment, you can sense the honesty in his words.

He confesses with a joyful certainty, “I’m your boyfriend,” and the air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness. It’s a declaration that dances in your heart, and as the words settle. He’s never felt this feeling before. It’s a cute and wholesome moment, an admission that wraps around you both like a warm, comforting embrace.

Lost in the warmth of the moment, Jeno leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle yet deep kiss. The embrace is like sinking into a plush cushion, soft and enveloping. Lingering in the sweetness of the kiss, you both get lost in each other, the world outside fading away.

You break away before it gets heated, giggling when he grunts. “Ask me to be your girlfriend then.”

In the soft glow of the moment, you can't help but pout, a playful desire dancing in your eyes. It’s something you want to hear, a declaration that would make this moment even more special.

Seeing your yearning, he smiles, a beautifully genuine expression that holds the promise of something sweet. Unable to resist, he gives in to your request. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks, the words carrying the weight of a shared journey yet to unfold.

With a joyous grin, you respond, "Yeah, I will," sealing the moment with the confirmation you longed for. The air becomes charged with a newfound sweetness, and without hesitation, you close the distance between you two, a kiss marking the beginning of a beautiful chapter in your story.

Your lips move with a tender intensity, exploring his as if they hold the secrets of the universe. It's a deep connection. In this moment, the world outside is just a distant echo, and the only reality is the lingering taste of the kiss and the profound sense of being lost in each other's lips.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the midst of your relationship with him, you learned that you were his first girlfriend. You were the first person he had fallen for. Sometimes it felt like you didn’t know what you were doing, relationships were hard work but together, you fumbled through the learning curve, discovering an effortless synergy that made everything click.

As the closeness between you deepened, trust became the foundation of your connection. Previously, the memory of maintaining a distance while brainstorming ideas for the project has transformed into a stark contrast. Now, most study sessions end with you perched on his lap, the desk serving as an impromptu space for shared moments and passionate make-out sessions.

Navigating the challenges of academics together, he's proven to be both needy and comforting. Whether engrossed in gaming or university work, your presence becomes a constant as you find your place on his lap, offering silent support as he tackles tasks. The boundaries between your personal and academic lives blur, but in the chaos, you discover a comfort that transcends the ordinary.

Your relationship remains discreet, known only to those closest to you both. The private nature of your connection shields it from unwanted attention. Despite the potential challenges of not flaunting your relationship on campus, you find solace in his ability to always find a way to be with you. His frequent presence at your house becomes a source of comfort, and the moments he's absent leave an unmistakable void.

Every interaction is amplified in this heightened state of intimacy – eye contact carries newfound depth, touches resonate with electric energy, smiles become contagious, and each make-out session becomes a magnetic force pulling you closer. In this world shared only between you and him, the ordinary transforms into extraordinary moments that you wouldn't trade for anything.

Amidst the intoxicating blend of newfound romance and shared moments, there was one significant aspect that set your relationship apart. Despite being together for three months, the physical intimacy you shared hadn't yet extended to the realm of sex. It wasn't a reluctance on his part, it was you who wasn’t ready. However, there was a mutual understanding that you needed more time before taking that step.

One evening, after another study session that left the desk abandoned for a more comfortable spot on the couch, you initiated a conversation that had been lingering in the background. In the quiet sanctuary of your shared moments, you asked, "Jeno, you're not mad at me that we haven't done it yet, are you?" His response was a gentle shake of the head, accompanied by a reassuring smile. "No, baby, I'm ready when you are." His lips meet yours while you secure your thighs around his sides.

The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, and as your eyes met, you exchanged a silent understanding. "I won't leave you waiting long," you promised, a declaration that sent a delicious thrill down his spine. In that moment, your connection deepened, anchored by patience, respect, and your unspoken promise.

✧ ✧ ✧

It’s Jeno’s birthday. You’ve been planning this day for a little while now, you woke him up with a kiss at midnight, wishing him a happy birthday which led into a heated makeout session. Then when the sun rose, you made him breakfast, his favourite, pancakes and fruit.

He’s currently at his house to see his friends and family, he’s been gone for a few hours and promised you he’d come back for you soon. you’ve meticulously prepared your home for his return. The bedroom is adorned with candles, rose petals and low music creating an intimate ambiance, setting the stage for the surprise you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

You had all his presents in a designated area but the main present was what you were willing to give him, what you were finally ready for. Sunwoo had suggested that you go lingerie shopping.

Sunwoo was someone in your psychology class, you had become friends with him relatively quickly. He reminded you of Jeno, sweet but with a darker side, that’s probably why you got along with him so well. You found yourself conversing with him the most during your classes, opening up about your life, your relationship. Surprisingly, he knew the most about you and Jeno, as a fellow psychology student he was able to give you good advice and lead you towards acting with more emotional intelligence. He gave you a lot of tips for your first time, that explains why you were here, lingerie shopping.

You tried on piece after piece, your eyes lighting at how good they made you feel and look. You couldn’t believe how they accentuate your curves and cleavage, you looked hot and you were sure Jeno would think so too.

And now, you’re adorned in a captivating piece with a silk robe, your excitement palpable. Jeno has texted you that he’s 5 minutes away, nerves and giddiness take over. You’ve invested time in perfecting your makeup and hair, hoping he notices the effort.

“Hey.” You open the door to him, you’re already blushing. Your arms are around him as soon as he enters your house.

“Hey, you look beautiful.” He whispers into your ear kissing your lips briefly. He lets go to hand you over a bouquet of vibrant flowers. The colours seemed to mirror the warmth in his eyes as he extended the bouquet towards you, a silent gesture that spoke volumes of his affection.

“For you.” His gentle smile warms you, or was it his soft lips that he pressed against your cheek?

You thank him with gratitude. “It’s your birthday though.”

“I’m thankful for you.” You sigh, looking at the man who well and truly owns your heart. “It will look good in that vase by the window in my room. Speaking of my room, come with me.” You hand out stretches for him and he takes it then let’s go, you shoot him a confused glance until he suddenly lifts you up. you squel, legs around his waist as he leads you up the stairs and to your room, a journey that he knows too well.

As you enter your room, he gently places you down, his eyes instantly igniting with desire at the sight of you. A breathtaking smile graces his face, a mix of gratitude and admiration evident in his eyes. "Thank you, my love," he murmurs, hand covering his heart, and his gaze overflowing with warmth as it locks onto yours.

"You like it?" you inquire, and a subtle nod is accompanied by a tender embrace, his arms enveloping you securely. He pulls you close, resting his head against your shoulder, an intimate moment filled with unspoken emotions. "I have more gifts for you later, but for now, there's one special gift I want to share."

His anticipation heightens as you guide him to sit on the bed. You notice his eyes deepening with desire, a subtle gulp betraying his eagerness. As you approach, a confident smile plays on your lips. Standing in front of him, you take the lead, revealing the silk robe's buttons.

His breath quickens, a heavy exhale escaping in a mix of impatience and desire. There's a primal urgency in the way he reacts, a husky moan escaping as he practically tears the buttons away, surprising you with his raw intensity, far from the delicate touch you anticipated.

You look him in the eye as you lead his hands to the buttons on your bathrobe, he becomes speechless as he rips the buttons off.

You embody a confidence that is alluring. The lingerie is elegant and sensual, a beautiful mix of silk and lace. The bra is a deep red with gold trimming, while the corset is made from a thin layer of silk with a layer of lace over the top. The panties are cut low on the hips, with a thin lace trim on the edge. The whole look is very feminine and sensual, making you feel like a goddess.

“Y/N…” He moans loudly, fingertips burning into your sides as his eyes roam over you, taking in every inch of your gorgeous and seductive body. “You planned this for me?” Jeno’s voice is a low growl, fingers fumbling with the buttons on your robe, eager to unwrap the gift you’ve prepared.

Your curves are perfect, like a goddess. Your skin is smooth and silky under the moonlight, the lace around your hips draws his attention first, eyes wavering as he doesn’t know where to look. You embody confidence, a goddess in the sultry lingerie — deep red silk with gold trim, a perfect blend of elegance and sensuality. The corset, a delicate layer of silk overlaid with lace, accentuates your curves. His moans echo your allure, fingers burning into your sides as his hungry gaze roams over your captivating figure

The red silk of your bra isn’t covering anything, it’s so see through and he can see your hard nipples peeking through the gold trimming, his mouth watering as he wants to wrap his tongue around the bud of skin, he wants to be sucking your nipples. Everything about you is perfect, from your smooth skin to your slender frame.

“F-Fuck, baby,” he grunts, strong hands, his arm veins bulging out as he’s tugging at the lingerie, unable to contain his impatience. “Need this off. Need to see you.” He says with an impatient growl, the material ripping off and breaking in one swift movement as he palms his erection, hands moving underneath his boxers as you can hear how wet he is

Pouting, you protest, “Jeno, I got this for you. It’s special.”

“I don’t care, baby. I’ll buy you more. Need to feel you,” he replies. You’re left standing bare, his eyes devouring every inch of your exposed beauty. You don’t shy away from his heated gaze, looking you up and down with such fervent and impatience in his expression.

He lets out the loudest moan, eyes lingering on your boobs and your pussy, mouth watering and breath hitched in his throat. “Fuck baby, You’re all mine.” He whispers into your ear, bringing you down onto the bed and then turning the two of you around so you were under him. He palms his clothed erection, leaning down to rub it against your outer core, dry humping but only you were naked. “Do you see how hard you make me? Fuck, you turn me on so much.”

Curiosity takes your hands under his boxers, exploring his length. A soft whimper escapes as you realize the sheer size. Desperate to feel him, your hands glide along, expressing the longing within. “I’ve dreamt of you inside me for so long,” you confess, your voice filled with anticipation.

Locking your gaze in place, he cradles your head, maintaining the connection. His lips explore your breasts with tender kisses, leaving a trail of wetness and red marks. “You’re everything,” you murmur, hands embracing his cock, tracing its length. “I’ve yearned for this.”

You gasp out his name when his lips pepper around your nipple, moving with a delicious ferver, kissing and sucking with equal measure, his tongue darting out to soothe any spot where he's been too rough. He releases your nipple with a loud pop, his loud moan making your pussy acne. His lips move to your interboob, peppering wet kisses along the skin, his trail leaving wetness and red marks.

He locks your head in one place, forcing you to keep your gaze focused on him. “Tell me, how badly do you want me?”

You flutter your eyelashes at him, moaning loudly, breathing frantically. You don’t want to mask yourself, you move your finger inside your clit, dragging it in one swift motion to reveal how wet you are. This action undeniably turns him on, what fucks him up even more is when you brazenly place your digit into his mouth, your unspoken words to demonstrate how wet you are. The taste of you sends a refreshing chill through his taste buds, as your icy sweetness gradually melts and coats his tongue.

“You need to use your words.” He breathes out heavily, ironically he’s struggling to balance breathing and speaking.

You cup his cheeks and hold him close, gently kissing him, your eyes soft and inviting, the most beautiful smile he’s ever seen and it’s driving him crazy, he wants to ruin you yet you’re still acting so fucking cute.

“I want you so fucking bad. I want you to eat my cunt and then fuck my cunt, Jeno, please, baby.”

You feel his hot breath on your face, dark eyes as he comes to whisper against your ear. “So wet and horny for me already, this is better than what I’ve imagined. Look at what a dirty little whore you are for me, so wet for me, begging for me to fuck your cunt.”

You hear a dark chuckle beside your ear and then you’re flipped around, you’re on top of him, you nearly got whiplash from how quickly he grabbed your hips and switched your positions.

“Come and sit on my face.” He commands, a tone that you don’t want to cross with. You’re so turned on, pussy throbbing for him that you forget to move. “Right now.”

“That’s it, baby.” He mumbles against your skin, gripping the meat on your thighs, hands gripping your bare ass to pull you down until you’ve securely framed his face. He can’t help but spank you before delving into your cunt.

His tongue delves into you without warning, your clit throbbing for him. He eats like a man starved, tongue delving into all the right places, eliciting a moan from you. Your thighs shake around his head as he tongue fucks uou at a more accelerated pace, the wetness of your pussy meeting his tongue. He devours all the juices with a groan.

“So fucking tight for me, pretty girl.” He grunts against you, a smooching sound and he kisses your cunt over and over again. “I love how you taste, such a good fucking girl.” He’s filled with praises today.

He makes room for three digits, an act that perplexes you because your cunt seemed so small and his fingers were so long. Your hands squeeze against his roots as he fingers you, his metal rings creating a coldness as he caresses your folds, an upward motion that makes you scream his name.

He tuts at what a dirty girl you’re being when you keep pushing down, your core pressing down so hardly on his nose but you’re so desperate for more, you’re on the verge of becoming undone on his tongue and fingers. Tears prick your eyes, you’re overstimulated at this point, whining and pleading with your eyes but it’s not enough.

“I’m not gonna let you cum yet.”

You cry out. “Why not?”

He doesn’t answer but you know why, it’s because he’s not done.

So you start begging and pleading, you tell him what he wants to hear, pulling at his strings how you know best. “You’re the owner of me.” You smile, thrusting against him as your grip on his hair tightens. “My cunt is all yours.”

He’s silent for a moment, then you feel the sides of his lips curve upwards against you. “All mine.” He whispers, leaving a spongy and chaste kiss against your clit. “I own you cunt.” His tongue laps at a faster rate, it only takes a few seconds for your high to come.

“Cum in me, baby.” You’re shaking above him and screaming out his name, the hot liquid pours into his mouth at once, he savours every last drop, the taste of you sending a delicious thrill down his spine.

As soon as you’ve wind down from your orgasm, you let out a whimper, looking at him with a frustrated pout, tugging on his hair once again. “Fuck me. Now.” He smiles at you, looking you deep in the eyes to capture the moment. He’s frozen in time, you lie there, a captivating beauty that demands attention. Your beauty unfolds gracefully, a canvas of anticipation. Patience graces your demeanour, a cute smile playing on your lips. Eyes wide with eagerness, each breath carries a weight of intensity. Messy hair adds a touch of chaos to the scene, a testament to passion's fervor. Love bites adorn your neck, eyeliner trailing down your face, mascara smudged and lipstick kissed away. Your swollen lips speak volumes. In this enchanting moment, he utters, "So fucking beautiful," and you become entirely his.

“I could just cum looking at you. Fuck baby don’t make me cum yet, it’s all about you.”

You pout. “It’s your birthday.”

He kisses your cheek softly. “It’s all about you.”

He curses suddenly and it draws your surprise, he looks at you with apology, disappointment thick in his eyes. “I forgot to bring protection, what the fuck is wrong with me? It’s the one important –”

You cut him off, a smile playing on your lips as you guide him to your entrance. “I started the pill a month ago.” You have been planning this day. He moans, a mix of being turned on and having adoration for you filling his desires. “You’re so good to me. You’re all mine.” He breathes heavily, lips closing onto yours as he enters you with a big grunt.

The second the sensation hits you, you cry out his name. “Fuck! You’re so fucking big.” You grip onto his forearms, head hitting the pillow as you look down to see where you’re connected, breath moving with anxiety when you realise his tip has only entered you.

“It won’t fit.” You cry out, covering your face with your hands. You navigate a mix of sensations, discomfort and pleasure. Jeno coos in your ear, easing you into him, expertly stretching you out, the discomfort slowly transforms into a growing sensation of pleasure.

“Yes it will.” His words convey the shared ecstasy of the moment, kissing your face softly and whispering praise upon praise as you ease into him, your tense body starting to relax and melt into his. “You’re such a good girl for me, taking me so well.” The connection between you intensifies with each rhythmic motion.

Your boyfriends deep voice echoes, he’s calling you all sorts, his good girl, his baby girl, he’s filled with praises but you're lost in a distant reverie, enveloped in the euphoria of his rhythmic movements, his cock sliding against your walls and reaching a realm so deep. Each thrust brings forth sharp gasps, the intimate connection intensifying as he explores deeper realms of pleasure. The sensation, a culmination of his every movement, is undeniably gratifying, leaving you immersed in the exquisite pleasure of the moment.

“You’re taking me so fucking well.”

Jeno admires the scene, picking up the pace with a faster rhythm, thrusting out just to keep slamming into you. Your toes curl in pleasure, your flushed face and agape mouth reflecting the intensity of the moment. Moans escape your mouth as desire takes over, your eyes glazed with lust, looking down as his hands cup your breasts, each thrust accentuates the pleasure, causing your tits to bounce with abandon.

Intense and breathless, he expresses his overwhelming pleasure with a raw exclamation. responding with short gasps to each thrust. Skin slapping against skin, heavy breaths, his low moans, your calling out of his name and the rhythm of his intense thrusts fill the room, creating a charged atmosphere.

Adjusting your position, he lifts your hips and throws one of your legs over his shoulder, his cock delving into you even deeper. The exquisite sensation elicits a visceral response, your nails finding purchase in the skin of his forearms as pleasure courses through every inch of your being.

You’re quite simply cock drunk. “You’re gonna break my bed.” You scream, the squeaking becoming a constant. He hugs your g-spot over and over, hips moving at speed as you scream his name, back arching and toes curling, making it clear that he's the sole master of your ecstasy in that moment.

You find him utterly breathtaking like this, eyes filled with lust, his muscular scent, sweet sticking to his forehead, his radiant face under the moonlight. His beauty remains undeniable. “You’re mine, only mine,” You declare, this time it’s you solidifying the possessive connection in the midst of the intimate encounter.

“That’s right.” He smirks with satisfaction.

The knot tightens in your stomach and your mind succumbs to a blissful haze. You wrap your legs around his waist and he fucks you in this new position, deeper and harder.

“Jeno, fuck! I’m gonna cum!” you cry out. Hands gripping the sides of his face, smiling as you close the distance, symbolising your connection in a shared kiss.

“Me too, baby, me too.” His eyes rolling to the back of his head, hands roaming your body as his grunts and moans elevate,

“Cum in me.” You let out a small whisper, a heavy sigh of desperation as your pussy feels numb, you see stars behind your eyelids as he coos in your ear. Caught in a post-orgasmic daze, you sense Jeno’s movements slowing, his groans low and primal. As he releases inside you, the intimate connection lingers in the hushed aftermath.

Exhausted but determined, you summon every ounce of strength, gripping onto his shoulders and managing to turn him around. Despite the weariness, you take charge, your wearied efforts transforming into a newfound control as you settle on top of him.

Fatigued but fueled by desire, you climb back onto his cock. The fusion of weariness and desire manifests in every deliberate movement, creating an enticing dance as you reclaim the intimate connection. Guided by a languid rhythm, you move up and down, your movements acquiring a delightful sloppiness and an unbridled sensuality.

“Oh?” He questions, playful and surprised tone as he raises an eyebrow. Despite the confusion, a smirk plays on his lips as he gazes up at you. His eyes, filled with affection, he doesn't question your actions, yielding to your lead as you continue to ride him.

“You gonna ride me baby? Gonna take the lead?” He questions as you straddle him with a sensual grace, your movements creating a mesmerizing rhythm. Each rise and fall is a languid dance, your body moving with a delightful combination of passion and fatigue. The connection between you intensifies, the room filled with the subtle sounds of your shared pleasure. As you ride him, his appreciative gaze reflects both desire and affection, forming a silent but profound connection between your entwined bodies.

While you’re on top, he still has to make it clear that he’s taking the lead, a playful smirk on his lips, as one of his hands guides your movements, orchestrating the rise and fall of your body. The other hand, however, held a more commanding role, wrapping around your throat with a controlled intensity, you struggled for breath and it made you dizzy, your rise and fall on his cock becoming sloppier.

“Dirty slut is so eager to ride my cock but now you’re getting tired?” He hisses, tutting as he shakes his head.

You shook your head, breathing in deep as you put all of your strength into moving up and down his cock, the synchronisation of your bodies became a sensual performance, each deliberate motion met with a reaction that heightened the intimacy. His touch was both guiding and possessive, the mix of sensations sending shivers down your spine. The room echoed with the rhythmic sounds of your shared desire, creating a symphony that underscored the unconventional celebration.

Eventually, as the intensity peaked, he encouraged your surrender. You collapsed onto him, limbs entwined, the air heavy with the scent of passion. His firm hold remained, a subtle assertion of dominance even in the aftermath. Exhausted yet content, you found solace in each other's embrace. Drifting into sleep, the room remained cloaked in the warmth of the shared celebration, a birthday memory unlike any other.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno swiftly leans down to share another kiss, lips melding seamlessly. His touch, now gentle, explores your hair, while your hands cradle his face. Traces of each other linger on your bodies, leaving indelible imprints. The nature of your connection might be uncertain, but a serene tranquillity fills the air as he gazes into your eyes, a gentle smile gracing his face, he utters, "You're so beautiful."

You end up falling asleep in Jeno's warm embrace, limbs tangled with limbs, heart beating as one. Amidst his calming snores, you find a happiness that had eluded you for a long time.

✧ ✧ ✧

Your relationship with Jeno, to simply put it, had developed into something beyond your wildest dream. It had evolved into a cascade of passion, sensuality, and profound love. The intimacy between you two deepened, finding solace in each other's embrace more frequently than ever. However, Jeno's imperfection lies in impatience and an insatiable addiction.

He's hooked on you, craving the essence of your being — your body, the echoes of his name in ecstasy, the taste of your release, the feel of your lips, the warmth of your intimate connection. In a fervent repetition, he murmurs "mine, mine, mine" against your skin, solidifying the possessive claim he's staked over you.

His impatience surfaces as an ever-present yearning. When you're not around, he misses you deeply, and the count of unannounced visits to your door is immeasurable. His unconventional greetings involve sealing his lips against yours, a silent declaration of his longing that often echoes through the early morning hours, punctuated by the sound of your shared passion.

You're equally sucked in the allure of addiction, captivated by Jeno, the enigma you've grown to adore. The depth of your connection extends beyond the fiery passions to the tender embrace of his arms wrapping around you, you feel endless warmth and security. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest beneath your head becomes a lullaby, soothing you into a serene state. In the quiet moments, tangled in each other's limbs, you find solace and an escape from the chaos of the world. Waking up to the tender gaze of his soft eyes and the warmth of his gentle smile has become the cherished highlight of your days.

You’ve become undone by his cock or his tongue in an array of intoxicating positions and locations. In the heat of his car, vacant rooms on campus or when you both escaped to a secluded retreat for three nights, the allure of each moment intensifies. You spent the entirety under sheets, the steamy rhythm of the shower, against walls, upon the floor, and against your desk— every corner of your house has been a canvas for your desires.

His touch, both restrained and blindfolded, adds a layer of mystery and anticipation, creating an irresistible blend of pleasure and surrender. Your lingerie, once delicately clinging to your curves, now bears the marks of his primal hunger, a testament to the wild intensity that defines your connection. The diversity of these encounters paints a vivid picture of your love, leaving an unmistakable imprint on every surface and scrap of fabric shared between you. Each escapade is a symphony of passion, a daring exploration of desire that keeps the flame burning bright in the intimate spaces you've claimed together.

You always find yourself restrained, blindfolded, there hasn’t been a piece of lingerie that hasn’t ripped from your body.

He can be soft too.

The overwhelming sensations he feels for you, the flutters and heavy beating of his heart. The sex between you and Jeno very rarely, but more often than he expected, takes on a soft and sweet rhythm. It’s a realm of vulnerability and tenderness, a side of him unexplored and new, venturing into the realms of vanilla passion.

After dates, he brings you home, his sanctuary, where the air is infused with affection and the scent of shared moments. His lips on every inch of your skin, an exploration of your body. His touches echo with reverence, each inch of your skin becoming a canvas for his affection. The air is filled with soft whispers, intimate and strong eye contact, soft smiles and the gentle hums of each other's names, a private serenade that only the two of you share.

In a surprising deviation from the usual, he doesn’t hastily rip away your lingerie but takes a moment to appreciate the delicate lace and silk adorning you. It becomes an act of love, a departure from the fervour, as he makes love to you whilst you’re adorned in the sensual lace.

Soft smiles exchange like secret promises, and amidst it all, his words echo softly, “my pretty girl,” encapsulating the beauty of the shared connection that transcends the raw passion to unveil a softer, more intimate love.

You've seamlessly integrated into Jeno's life, becoming a constant presence at his house, something that used to scare you but now the boundaries between you and his friends blur. They’re always walking into you and Jeno fucking, you have this acceptance that they have seen you naked.

The unexpected intrusions are sometimes awkward but you’ve learned that your boyfriend secretly loves it, it turns him on. He embraces the fact that they've witnessed you in intimate positions.

There was one memorable evening when Jeno was meant to be preparing dinner for his roommates, Jaemin, Hyuck, and Renjun. However, the evening took an unexpected turn when he found himself utterly distracted by you. What was supposed to be a casual dinner preparation morphed into a passionate encounter, you pushed against the countertop as he fucked into you, the sounds of your pleasure echoing through the walls. Your loud moans carried through the air, and to your surprise, his roommates walked in, initially thinking there was an emergency.

It was a comical yet slightly embarrassing moment, but the incident didn't deter your unabashed enjoyment. You've reached a point where you no longer attempt to stifle your sounds of pleasure, accepting the quirks and unexpected interruptions that come with being an integral part of Jeno's life.

✧ ✧ ✧

While there’s highs in your relationship, there’s undeniable lows. While the passion has increased to another level, so has the arguing.

You remember one time, you were supposed to meet him outside a cinema, he promised to take you out that night, one of your many dates but he never showed up. Instead, he was partying. He spoke to you on the phone, voice filled with apology as he pleaded for you to understand, he quite simply couldn’t get out, it was one of the parties that he attended, it blew out of control.

“I’m sorry baby, I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You heard his apologetic voice, loud music and screams of partygoers in the background.

You’re too frustrated to respond. You hang up the phone with no further words.

You had it planned out in your head, you was gonna give him the intense silent treatment, ignore all his texts and calls, ignore when he rings the bell and most importantly, hold back on kissing or fucking him. Yet here you are at an unreasonable hour, in the front seat of his car, your usual passenger princess role that you had become so accustomed to.

“Y/N.” He gives you a warning, voices a low lull, he wasn’t even looking at you, he stares out the window, gaze distant, refusing to start the car until you gave in to what he wanted.

He knows you’re angry at him. His response to it is what sets you off even more, he’s not said sorry once for standing you up. That’s why you’re acting the way you are, refusing to meet his eyes, dodging his lips when he greeted you, pushing him away when he tried to hug you.

That’s why your hands stay nestled in your lap, you don’t want his contact but eventually you need to give in. Your boyfriend, being the most stubborn person you know, would not start the car until you held his hand, he doesn’t tell you that it’s the reason he’s staying still, jaw locked as he looks out the window but his warning as he called out your name and his outstretched hand is enough to make you sigh in defeat, giving in and taking his hand in yours. He always does this. He drives with one hand if it means that he can hold your hand and touch your thigh with the other.

The second his hand tightened around yours, you feel guilty at how his touch instantly electrified you, sending warm chills down your body. You missed him so much. He finally starts the car, turning to you with that smile you love so much, one that pulls at your heartstring.

As he held your hand with his vacant one, kissing your palm softly.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He’s apologised to you but you take nothing from it.

He sighs, realising that you’re giving him the silent treatment but he still continues his praises and sweet talking to you. “You look so pretty, you don’t think I’ve noticed? I’ll make it all up to you, I promise.”

You gulp, biting your tongue to hold back from breaking down in front of him. It’s true. You’re so dolled up, you spent so long getting ready, smiling once you saw the finished result, the prettiest full face of makeup and one of the dresses Jeno had gifted you, all for the self confidence to come crashing down when he never showed up.

“Aren’t you even gonna ask me why I couldn’t come?” He questions, opening the passenger door for you, hand outstretched to which you ignore.

You cross your arms against your chest. “I don’t care.”

He sighs. “Are you gonna let me stay the night?” He questions, leaning against the car door, eyes searching yours for a hint of forgiveness. The silence between you is heavy, tension palpable in the air.

Finally, you break the silence with a reluctant nod. He smiles, a mixture of relief and gratitude, and you find yourself softening despite your initial resolve.

There was two reasons why you said yes. You did miss him, you’ve become accustomed to falling asleep in his arms and you need him now more than other and the second reason was a bit selfish.

Jeno’s smile fades as he takes in the room with awe, the flickering candles casting shadows that dance across his face. Rose petals are scattered, creating a delicate pathway that seems to lead to a deep well of guilt within him.

“We would be having sex right now, we’d probably be having it all night long but instead you went partying and stood me up.”

His expression shifts, and you sense his internal conflict as he searches for words. “I’m sorry,” he finally utters, the words heavy with sincerity. “Please let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll take you on the best dates for seven nights straight.”

Jeno steps closer, a subtle seduction in his eyes. “Let me try to make it up to you,” he whispers, his voice filled with desperation.

But you stand firm, resisting his advances. “You went partying and stood me up,” you say, frustration coloring your tone. “I’m even wearing something really sexy under this, but it’s your fault that you won’t see it.”

Instinctively, his arms wrap around your waist, he gets whiplash from how fast you jerk away from his touch. His face reflects shock, realizing the consequences of his actions. “You’re not touching me tonight,” you declare, a line drawn in the emotional sand.

Jeno, not used to you rejecting his touch, looks bewildered. “We’re two mature adults,” you continue, your voice firm. “Talk to me about your emotions. I don’t think you’ve ever truly opened up to me.”

"I stayed at the party because of Jaemin, alright? His girlfriend had just dumped him, and he was spiraling out of control. I couldn't leave him alone—I was genuinely worried. You know how he gets, especially with hard drugs in the mix. My instincts were right; without me there, it could've turned into a disaster. He's my best friend, and I have a responsibility to look out for him. I'm truly sorry if my actions hurt you. Next time, I'll handle it better. I want you to know, you're my top priority. You're not my second choice; you're my girlfriend, my girl, and I never want you to feel anything less than my first choice. Always."

You pout, suddenly feeling so guilty. “You should’ve just told me that, next time just tell me the truth, ok? We need communication if this is gonna work.” Your words are punctuated by a tender kiss, a sweet moment as he nods, leaning his head down and resting it against your shoulder.

✧ ✧ ✧

Soft giggles escape your lips, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves as you steal a kiss from him. The world outside becomes a blissful blur, leaving only the two of you in the cocoon of your affection. He looks up at you, moaning softly, his hands gripping the back of your hair to pull you back down to his lips again.

The university campus buzzes with youthful energy, a tapestry of autumn leaves falling gently, creating a mosaic of warm hues. The scent of coffee and distant laughter fills the air, creating an atmosphere of shared dreams and academic pursuits. Amidst this lively backdrop, you and Jeno sit by the beautiful flowers, your favourite summer dress on as he lays his head on your lap, your hands locked as you share a casual lunch on campus with friends.

The sun filters through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground as you lean down to whisper something in his ear, a moment solely for the two of you. In that moment, surrounded by the chatter of friends, you close your lips in on his, the world quieting to the symphony of your happiness.

Your connection with Jeno forms a bubble that shields you from the prying eyes and whispers around you. One unexpected night, Sunwoo’s concern breaks through as you both share the living room, a movie playing in the background.

"Y/N, how is it going with Jeno?" Sunwoo inquires, her words carrying an undercurrent of worry.

A genuine smile lights up your face as you reply, "I'm really happy." However, the joy fades when you see the expression on Sunwoo’s face. "Is everything okay?"

He takes a deep breath, her concern evident. "I care about you, and I just want you to be happy. I can see you're in your honeymoon phase with him, and it's amazing, but please stay careful. I've heard things, and I need you to be aware."

Your head tilts in confusion, and he continues, "People have been mean and jealous, saying horrible things about both of you. I don't want to go into detail, but there are malicious individuals who would do anything to break you two up. Jealousy is a green-eyed devil, and I want you to be cautious. Every time you're seen together on campus, people are talking, and unfortunately, it's not all good. You're drawing a lot of attention, and I need you to be aware of the rumours circulating."

Just like that, your comfort bubble has been shattered. It wasn't his fault; he was being a good friend, and the truth was bound to come to light, considering the magnetic stares that seemed to follow you everywhere. Peering eyes traced your every move, intensifying every time you held hands with Jeno, shared a kiss, or simply engaged in conversation.

Before, you had a shield, a blissful ignorance that shielded you from the judgmental glances and whispered rumours. Now, you have nothing. The weight of those scrutinizing eyes presses down on you, and a surge of anxiety rises within. It's as if the once familiar campus has transformed into a stage where every step is observed and dissected by an unseen audience.

The secure haven you once had with Jeno is now tainted by the awareness of the scrutiny around you. The casual joy you shared now carries a hint of unease as you navigate through the campus, wondering about the malicious whispers and unfounded rumors that threaten to unravel the serenity of your relationship.

The once intimate haven of your relationship now feels exposed, the whole realm shifting under the weight of everyone's knowledge. It's as if an unwelcome spotlight has been cast upon you, and the familiar campus, once a place of shared joy, now echoes with the cruel whispers and judgmental glances that follow you everywhere.

The anxiety, a silent predator, wraps around your chest, constricting with every scrutinizing look. The rude eyes that pierce through your privacy seem to steal away fragments of your self-worth with each passing glance. You feel stripped bare, a vulnerability that leaves you yearning for the comfort of invisibility.

Jeno, seemingly impervious to the storm of judgment, becomes an inadvertent source of envy. These people, with their whispers and stares, never seem to penetrate his shield. He navigates through the campus with an ease that only amplifies the stark contrast to your inner turmoil.

One day, Jeno surprises you with flowers on campus, a tender gesture that should bring joy. But as he leans in for a kiss, you find yourself recoiling, aware of the peering eyes, the whispers, the judgment. His pout mirrors your disconnection as you take the flowers, your voice detached as you mutter a thank you.

He leans forward again, attempting to kiss you, but you dodge it. Surprise flickers in his eyes, replaced by a gentle pout. "Baby?" he questions, reaching out to touch you, but you evade his grasp.

"What's wrong?" he asks, concern lacing his voice.

"I don't want to kiss you because everyone keeps looking at you, at us," you confess, the weight of your unease finally surfacing.

"Y/N..." he begins, his voice a mixture of understanding and frustration, as he tries once more to bridge the gap between you. His eyes search yours with a mix of understanding and concern. “We can’t let people do this to us, this is us, me and you and the last thing I’ll let people do is dictate our relationship and make you uncomfortable.”

You try to focus on him, his smile, his soft words, his caring demeanour but all you can feel is the attention from outsiders. Your hands tremble imperceptibly, breathing becomes a conscious effort, each inhale and exhale a struggle against the weight of judgment hanging in the air. Your heart, a delicate percussion, echoes the rhythm of your anxiety, its beats amplified in the silent turmoil.

Tears, uninvited, well up in your eyes, and as you nod, they cascade down your cheeks, a tangible manifestation of the emotional toll. In that moment, vulnerability wraps around you like a heavy cloak. It feels as though you’ve done something wrong, an unspoken guilt that weakens your resolve.

The world outside blurs through the veil of tears, intensifying the sense of fragility that envelopes you. Jeno's tender touch wipes them away, his fingertips brushing softly against your skin. His eyes mirror an understanding so deep that it feels like a comforting embrace.

"Hey," he whispers, turning towards you with the softest voice, a gentleness that envelops you like a warm blanket. Leaning down, he cups your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. Everything else fades into a distant hum as you melt into him.

"Look at me," he urges, his eyes a haven of empathy. Your gaze meets his, and the vulnerability that you've felt transforms into a shared moment of intimacy. Jeno's presence becomes a blockage, shielding you from the judgmental world outside.

"Keep your eyes on me, not them," he murmurs, his words a balm to your wounded spirit. In that quiet exchange of glances, your heart slowly begins to relax. Jeno's comforting presence, combined with the unspoken promise in his eyes, creates a sanctuary where vulnerability is met with love, and every tear is met with the tenderness of understanding.

Feeling the reassurance of Jeno's presence, a warmth blooms in your chest. As he wipes away the last of your tears, you're overwhelmed by the tenderness in his eyes. Unable to resist the urge, you bridge the small gap between you, pressing a sweet, grateful kiss against his lips.

As the kiss lingers, Jeno pulls back, his eyes searching yours with concern. "Is anyone being mean to you?" His voice takes on a protective edge, a sincerity that resonates through the words. "If they are, I'll deal with them. I won't let anyone hurt you."

“I’ll tell you if anything happens.” You whisper. Jeno’s eyes search yours with a sincerity that demands your attention. “Promise me,” he implores, his voice a gentle plea.

"I promise." you affirm, instinctively outstretching your pinky, a whimsical gesture that seals promises between the two of you.

But Jeno, momentarily disregarding the lighthearted tradition, leans in and seals the promise with a sweet kiss. The warmth of his lips lingers, and a playful smile dances across his face. "You can't break it now." he teases, the gravity of the moment lightening.

You nod, the weight of the promise settling in your heart. "I won't." you assure him, a sense of determination in your eyes.

"I got you, Y/N."

✧ ✧ ✧

You don’t keep your end of the promise.

You and Jeno were on one of your many dates, except this one was the most luxurious of all. He had taken you to a a high-end dining establishment where opulence meets culinary excellence. As you step into this gastronomic haven, the ambiance drips with luxury. Chandeliers, resplendent in their crystal glory, cast a warm and flattering glow upon the tastefully adorned surroundings.

There was an atmosphere of sophistication. The air is laced with the subtle scent of exclusive fragrances, adding to the sensory experience. Every detail, from the meticulously arranged silverware to the plush velvet seating, screams extravagance.

The entire upper floor was just for you. Seclusion embraced the space as you and Jeno reveled in each other. Wrapped in a corset top that accentuated your every curve, you felt the warmth of Jeno's gaze fixated on the allure of your silhouette. A daring mini black skirt that barely covered your ass.

A long coat provided a modesty, concealing the sensual ensemble beneath. The promise of privacy on this exclusive floor lingered, and as the door closed behind you, the coat slipped away, unveiling an enticing look reserved solely for Jeno's eyes.

In the dimly lit, darkened expanse of the top floor, a sexy ambiance enveloped you both. The low music set the tone, creating an intimate atmosphere where only the sultry sounds of Jeno's low moans and your soft hums echoed, blending seamlessly with the alluring surroundings. Seated on plush furnishings, the connection ignited as you found solace on his lap. Jeno wasted no time, roughly removing your underwear and your corset, your boobs bouncing as you jumped up and down his cock.

Boyfriend air was real. You had radiated beauty before he picked you up – your makeup meticulously enhancing your features, and your hair styled with grace. Yet, now you sit here, a mess. His kisses had erased every last trace of makeup.

"Baby, stay here," he whispers, his warm breath lingering against your lips. "I'm just getting the bill." Leaning down, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead, sealing the promise of a swift return.

"Do you wanna come over to mine?" he suggests with a playful grin. You nod, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. "I'll drive us home," he declares, a warmth in his eyes. In that moment, it's clear – you just want to be with him, wherever the night may lead.

In the softly lit ambiance of the upscale restaurant, you patiently wait for him, preparing to put on your bra and top. Unexpectedly, an unwelcome intrusion disrupts the tranquility. Your mouth hangs open in shock, and before you can react, your chest is briefly exposed as a female waitress enters the room.

Quickly, you grab your coat to cover yourself, staring at her with a mix of surprise and discomfort. "What the hell?" escapes your lips, a blend of embarrassment and frustration.

You recall her as your waitress for the night, part of the restaurant's unique service where each floor and couple has a dedicated server. The bell, your discreet summoner, has been unrung, making her presence inappropriate.

She looks at you with a hint of disdain, and the encounter triggers a familiar sense of vulnerability. The ambiance of the restaurant feels stark, and the unexpected exposure intensifies your embarrassment. The thin fabric of the coat becomes a modest shield, but the discomfort lingers.

As you lock eyes with the waitress, who seems to take pleasure in your discomfort, memories of past judgmental stares resurface, adding to your unease. The sanctuary you usually find with Jeno is momentarily disrupted, replaced by an uncomfortable sense of exposure. The discomfort you've navigated with Jeno's support resurfaces, threatening to overwhelm you.

Recognizing her now, you realize she's a fellow student at your college. The slight awkwardness you noticed during her service takes on a new significance. You remember the way her eyes seemed to light up, especially when serving Jeno, which triggered a fleeting sense of jealousy. But it's a feeling you've grown used to – after all, Jeno is a heartthrob and everyone wants him.

While a twinge of jealousy briefly pricked at you, Jeno remained blissfully unaware of the waitress's admiration. It simply didn't register on his radar. He's become accustomed to such attention, unfazed by occasional glances and admirations. To him, these moments are like passing breezes – gentle and unnoticed.

Seated arrogantly on the table in front of you, she exuded an air of contempt, her eyes reflecting the rudeness that her entire demeanour conveyed. From the start of the night, her motives were glaringly apparent. You initially dismissed it as mere overthinking, the disinterest as she served you, the muttered words and the frigid expression with frozen eyes heightened your sense of unease. However her attention was completely different towards Jeno, it went from blatant flirtation to being overly helpful and kind.

"You know, seeing you with Jeno is disappointing. He deserves so much better. I don’t think you realize what a downgrade you are for him," she sneered, her words laden with contempt.

With a sinister grin, she continued, "Every other girl he’s been with beats you, by miles. In looks, in sex…"

As she casually mentioned sharing an intimate moment with Jeno, she revealed a video that sent tears streaming down your face. It’s taken from earlier, a moment you shared in solace but your feel vulnerable and exposed knowing she had been watching the whole time. The hurt intensified as she criticized your appearance and demeaned your connection with Jeno.

"Why the fuck have you filmed this?" you demanded, the raw emotion evident in your voice.

"Do you see how ugly you look? Watching this nearly made me sick. You’re not pleasing Jeno the way he deserves. You’re too soft and vanilla. Having slept with Jeno myself, he’s probably the best sex I’ve ever had. It's a shame he can't be rough with you because you're too much of a pussy," she taunted.

She questioned the authenticity of Jeno's feelings, suggesting he was using you as a distraction. Her venomous words stung as she predicted an inevitable heartbreak for you.

"I want him. And so does every other girl. It’s not fair that he’s with you. One day he’s gonna go back to his fuckboy ways. Just watch," she warned, her possessiveness on full display.

"Now you will stay away from him. I’m warning you now. Do not cross me. It will not be good if I see you together next week," she threatened, leaving a chilling anticipation hanging in the air.

As she cruelly exposed the intimate details of your relationship, tears streamed down your face, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The room seemed to close in, an overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you. Anxiety took hold, its silent fingers wrapping around your heart, squeezing with an invisible force.

Your breaths became shallow and rapid, as if the air itself was too heavy to inhale. A lump formed in your throat, choking back words that yearned to be spoken. The world around you blurred, a disorienting haze settling over your vision. Your hands trembled involuntarily, the once steady limbs now betraying your emotional turmoil.

In the depths of your anxiety, your mind became a battleground of negative thoughts. Each word uttered by her echoed, fueling self-doubt and insecurity. It felt as though the walls were closing in, the room shrinking to an oppressive confinement.

Moments later, Jeno returns, sensing the shift in your mood. The weight of sadness on your face doesn't escape his notice, concern knitting his features. He kneels in front of you, gently taking your hand in his.

"Baby?" he whispers, his eyes reflecting genuine worry. "Are you okay?"

You're taken aback by his perceptiveness, having mastered the art of hiding your true feelings. Despite your practiced smile, he sees through the facade.

"I'm fine, baby," you assure, the words a feeble attempt to shield him from your inner turmoil. A smile, though not reaching your eyes, plays on your lips. "Thank you for today." The gratitude is sincere, your heart warmed by his caring presence.

✧ ✧ ✧

As your fingers intertwine in the quiet of the car, he glances at you with a comforting smile. "Looks like there's a bit of traffic, we’ll be home in around a half hour." he mentions, the hum of the engine accompanying his words.

However, you're not fully tuned into the conversation. Instead, your attention is drawn to the night sky, captivated by the celestial wonders above. Animatedly, you share stories of constellations and the cosmic ballet, your voice weaving tales of the stars as the car meanders through the urban night.

A warm smile graces his lips, capturing the sparkle in your eyes. Spontaneously, he parks the car near a vacant mountaintop, city lights far below. The celestial canvas unfolds as you continue your stargazing dialogue. 

Nestled in the open boot of Jeno's car, you find comfort against his body, head resting on his chest. Gazing at the stars, he whispers sweet reassurances in your ear, the night sky a celestial canvas where your anxiety gently fades, even if just momentarily.

Jeno kisses your forehead with a whispered question. You’re now standing side by side as you’re looking up at the stars and he’s looking at you. “Are you feeling better?” 

As a contented sigh escapes your lips, you revel in the solace of being with him, the night sky weaving a temporary spell on your anxiety but you know this won’t last, you know the second you close your eyes tonight the real battle will start. 

Choosing to shield him from worry, you offer a gentle smile and a subtle nod when he asks. "Yeah, I'm feeling better now.” you assure him, your words carrying a touch of gratitude. Your heart swells with appreciation for the unexpected haven he created atop the mountain.

Leaning into the warmth of his chest, you express your thanks for the day, the words a tender acknowledgment of his efforts. Deep down, you cherish the genuine concern in his eyes, but for now, the desire to spare him unnecessary worry guides your actions. 

“I don’t buy it.” he looks at you sternly, lips dodging yours, a serious expression in his face. 

"Jeno, please," you implore, the words hanging in the air. However, as he meets your gaze, captivated by the sheer beauty reflected in your eyes, he momentarily forgets what he was about to say. The softness in your expression, the way you look at him, sweeps away his train of thought. There's a pause, a moment where words fade into the background, as he's lost in the warmth of your gaze and the radiance that surrounds you. Eventually, a gentle smile curves on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the distraction your beauty has become. 

His words caress the air, "Pretty girl." His voice is a low whisper, his fingers tenderly tracing the contours of your lips with the most captivating of smiles. It sends a poignant ache through your heart, the way he looks at you making you feel intense guilt. You fight back the tears that threaten to surface.

He’s still looking at you with concern, eyes searching yours for an answer. You don’t know how else to react. Desiring distraction, you impulsively lean in, seeking solace in the press of your lips against his, momentarily abandoning the conversation you had intended. Your fingers instinctively coil around the fabric of his shirt, his arms winding around your waist, drawing you into an intimate embrace. The dance of his mouth against yours unfolds, a gentle nip on your lower lip elicits a hushed gasp. Seizing the moment, he delves deeper, intertwining his tongue with yours in a tender kiss.

A smile graces his lips in the midst of your shared closeness and it seems like the imposing conversation has flown from his mind too.  Your fingers weave through the strands of his hair, cherishing the softness as the warmth of his body provides a transient sanctuary from lingering concerns.

Jeno gracefully lowers himself, knees bending as his hands anchor at the back of your thighs. A swift jump and your legs encircle his waist, his firm grip ensuring your support. Lips reconnect, and he navigates effortlessly to his car. He’s glad that you guys have no company.

Amidst the soft glow of candlelight, an unexpected intimacy unfolds. You discover a new vantage point, perched on a shared blanket under the moonlit sky. You’re met with the familiarity of his car, the boot. You’re surprised when the position remains, you on top. You move even closer in his hold, a comfortable perch on his lap as your knees close in on either side of his hips. “Take this shit off.” He moans against your lips, smiling against your lips as you get in an awkward position so he can remove your skirt swiftly. Simultaneously, you unzip his trousers, freeing his cock from his pants, while he removes your lace panties. 

His hands trace the curves of your thighs, fingers gripping the exposed skin, dangerously dancing near the skin of your pussy while your mouth melds with his. 

“Already wet for me? Good girl.” He coos in your ear, one finger dipping in and out your pussy, covered in slick. 

“Need you.” You cry out, he coos at how patience you’ve been for him as he grips your thighs, eyes looking softly into yours as he lowers you down onto his cock, the two of you moaning at the sensation of you adjusting immediately, he fits snugly into you, your walls instinctively accustomed to the feeling. 

In the midst of tears, you whisper, "Jeno, you make me feel so much." Your emotions overwhelm you as you begin kissing every inch of his face, attempting to convey the depth of your sentiments.

You start with his forehead, the site of countless moments etched with shared laughter and joy. A gentle kiss lands there, a silent acknowledgment of the happiness he's brought into your life. Moving to his eyebrows, you trace the familiar arcs that crinkle with every teasing smile. Your lips linger, savoring the warmth of memories held in those expressive lines.

Kissing the bridge of his nose, you recall the adorable way it scrunches when he's deep in thought or playfully annoyed. Each touch becomes a silent tribute to the idiosyncrasies that make Jeno uniquely himself. Continuing to his closed eyelids, you remember the countless times you’ve dreamed of him and the security you find in the serenity of those closed eyes.

As you plant a tender kiss on his cheeks, the echoes of laughter and stolen moments resonate in your mind. You're acutely aware of the bittersweet weight behind the gesture, acknowledging the beauty of what was and the pain of what might never be again.

Finally, your lips find their way to his trembling mouth, sealing an unspoken promise of love and gratitude. In this melancholic dance of affection, you navigate the terrain of his features, each kiss a melancholy ode to the intricate mosaic of your shared experiences.

Jeno looks at you with a mixture of tenderness and concern, his eyes mirroring the emotions reflected in your tear-stained gaze. As your whispered confession hangs in the air, his fingers gently lift to graze your cheek softly. 

The room feels heavy with unspoken sentiments, and Jeno's expression softens even more as he breaks away from your lips. His hand cradles your face, thumb gently brushing away the lingering traces of sadness. There's a depth of emotion in his eyes as he looks into yours. 

He doesn't utter a word, but his actions speak volumes. Leaning in, Jeno captures your lips in a soft, reassuring kiss. It's a gentle promise, a silent affirmation that he's there with you, navigating the intensity of emotions together. His arms wrap around you, creating a cocoon of warmth and solace.

Jeno's touch is a blend of warmth and desire as he navigates your trembling body, his hands exploring the curves that respond to his every movement. Your sighs intertwine with his name, creating a symphony of longing and pleasure, while your shaky hands find solace on his sculpted shoulders. Biting your lip, you surrender to the heightened sensations as his grip on your thigh tightens, helping as you rise and fall on his cock. 

His breath, laden with desire, mingles with yours, the air heavy with the intensity of your connection, your ass meeting your thighs. "Good girl," he murmurs, smiling behind the pleasure as you rise and fall on his cock with a determination in his eye. His praise ignites a new wave of sensations. Your eyes, lost in ecstasy, roll back, and the room echoes with the symphony of whimpers and cries that escape your lips when he consistently hits the sweet spot

“I need your cum in me.” you whine, the words catching in your throat as your body responds to the intensifying pleasure, a gentle band tightening around the depths of your core.

“I’m gonna fill you up with me, baby.” he moans, his voice a low, longing murmur. Jeno lowers his thumb to your clit, gliding down to trace delicate circles. The sudden touch makes you shiver, tension building within you as the sensations cascade through your body.

In the throes of ecstasy, you arch against him, a cascade of whimpers and moans escaping your lips. Jeno is attentive to your every reaction, synchronized in the dance of shared desire. Your cries become a symphony that resonates with him, each pulse of pleasure bringing you closer to a shared climax.

“My love.” you cry out, the endearment slipping out involuntarily, and it resonates deeply with Jeno. The intimate connection amplifies, pushing him over the edge. He responds with a fervent moan, releasing his pent-up passion inside you, a high-pitched resonance you’ve never heard before.

As the climax ebbs, you collapse onto him, exhaustion mingling with the lingering pleasure. Tears stream down your face, a release of emotions intertwined with the raw intensity of the moment. Your hands clench onto his back, holding on as if he could slip away.

In the aftermath, Jeno cradles you with a tender smile, maintaining the intimate connection. His gaze holds a vulnerability that transcends physicality, mirroring the delicate strokes of a poet. His fingers brush away your tears, tracing the paths of emotions etched on your flushed face.

With unspoken understanding, the room is filled with shared sorrow. Jeno’s tears join yours, creating a poignant language that weaves your stories together. In this silent dialogue of vulnerability, your connection strengthens.

In the tender aftermath, Jeno's eyes reveal a different vulnerability. With a gentleness that mirrors the delicate touch of a poet, he brushes away the tears that linger on your flushed cheeks. His fingers trace the paths of emotions etched on your face. As his thumb captures a glistening tear, you feel your sorrow enveloping the room. 

Gazing into each other's eyes, you find solace in the authenticity of the moment. Jeno's gaze mirrors and you stay in silence, he’s still inside of you. 

Breaking the silence, Jeno's voice, soft yet filled with genuine concern, pierces through the intimate atmosphere. His eyes still search yours as he whispers, "Tell me what you feel." The unspoken question lingers, he’s referencing earlier, inviting you to unravel the layers of emotions that intertwine your souls, creating a canvas painted with shared vulnerability and desire.

Jeno's touch is tender as he brushes away your tears, his fingers delicately tracing the paths of emotions etched on your face. The subtle quiver in his breath reveals the depth of his empathy, and you notice a glistening tear escaping from the corner of his eye, mirroring the vulnerability that binds you both.

His thumb moves gently across your cheek, capturing the teardrop, while his own tears fall freely. There's a shared sorrow in this moment, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. Jeno's emotions, laid bare, create a poignant connection between you, deepening the bonds that bind your hearts.

The weight of unspoken pain becomes palpable, threatening to engulf you in a sea of vulnerability. In response, you shake your head, a feeble attempt to ward off the imminent exposure of your innermost self. The fear of appearing fragile and broken takes hold—it's a dangerous territory you've meticulously avoided, a realm where the façade you've worn like armor is at risk of crumbling.

As he wipes away your tears, his gaze meets yours, expressing a silent solidarity. In that intimate exchange, you find solace in the raw authenticity of shared emotions. Jeno's teary eyes reflect not only your pain but also the profound connection that weaves your stories together. It's a moment suspended in time, where tears become the language of emotions too profound for words.

"I know what you feel; I feel it too," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to the ache in your heart. The connection deepens as you both acknowledge the profound emotions that bind you, creating a shared sanctuary where vulnerability is met with empathy. It's a testament to the strength of your relationship, forged in the crucible of genuine emotions that only serve to strengthen the bond you share.

A quiet gasp escapes as emotions swirl within, you take a deep breath, the weight of your emotions nearly overwhelming. In the quiet intimacy of the moment, you muster the courage to speak the words that have been echoing in your heart.

"I... I'm scared, Jeno," you stammer, anxiety coursing through your veins like an electric current. Your heart races, and a subtle tremor invades your voice as you grapple with the overwhelming fear of confessing your emotions. The vulnerability in your words echoes the symptoms of anxiety—palpitations, a tightening chest, the fear of judgment that clings to every syllable.

Despite the paralyzing fear, you know you must tell him. You summon the courage to speak. "I love you so much that it hurts, Jeno," you admit, the words escaping in a breathless whisper. The admission carries the weight of both joy and fear, but amidst the internal turmoil, you yearn for a connection that transcends words, searching desperately for affirmation in his eyes. His boyish smile transforms into a warm and tender expression, tears streaming down. He's still inside of you, his presence lingering, and as he releases again, his hands gently cup your face, providing a moment of solace in the midst of the emotional storm.

"I love you too," Jeno whispers, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that mirrors your own. You hold each other tightly, your bare bodies pressed together, a mosaic of emotions etched across the canvas of your entwined forms. His toned chest provides a firm foundation, your breasts gently molded against the warmth of his skin. The lingering connection down there serves as a silent testament to the profound intimacy you've embraced.

Heavy breathing and panting compose a symphony, resonating with the echoes of shared desires. His arms, strong and secure, wrap around your back, creating a cocoon of intimacy. Fingers trace soothing patterns along the contours of your spine, and as you hold onto his shoulders, your tears find refuge in the curve of his neck. 

In the midst of this physical closeness, you look into each other's eyes. His smile, though filled with tears, radiates warmth and acceptance, a poignant expression of love. Yet, in your gaze, there is no hint of happiness—only a profound sadness reflected in your tear-streaked face as you sob, the weight of vulnerability heavy on your shoulders. 

The head fogs with unspoken words, each heartbeat echoing the ache of a love destined to unravel. Tears cascade down your cheeks, silent witnesses to the profound pain etched in your soul. Amidst the shared tears, he cries too, not realizing the true depth of your sorrow. He’s weeping because he senses your love, yet the cruel irony is that you, burdened by the impending departure, are the one who must leave.

As your tears mingle in the dance of heartbreak, the weight of impending separation hangs heavy. He can’t hear the words echoing in your head, nor understand the agony etched onto your face. This poignant moment, laden with unspoken goodbyes, is a symphony of sorrow. 

✧ ✧ ✧

It starts off with feeble excuses, claiming sickness or the need to study. Each call and text from him goes unanswered, as you detach yourself without warning or explanation. On campus, you avoid his gaze, finding excuses to leave, trapping yourself in a web of avoidance.

Friends, unaware of the storm within, continue their routines, oblivious to your isolation. You become a ghost, fading from gatherings, leaving them in the dark about the torment devouring your soul.

His house, once a refuge, stands untouched by your presence. Dates become relics of the past, and everything shared dissolves into a haunting silence. You ghost him, ignore him, disappearing without a trace. The places where you once showed up now remain empty, a stark reminder of the void you've become.

In this self-imposed exile, you grapple with the agony of your emotions, feeling the weight of isolation press down on you. The world around you moves forward, while you remain suspended in emotional paralysis, unable to break free from the chains that bind you.

The sun-drenched campus feels both familiar and distant as you navigate its pathways, ensnared in your isolation. Suddenly, Sunwoo appears, concern etched across his face. Startled, you jump at his presence, forgetting how to act around people. Anxiety, that insidious disease, tightens its grip.

"Y/N," Sunwoo calls out, his voice breaking through the suffocating silence.

"Sunwoo," you cry out, seeking instant comfort from him. You allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, tears escaping as thoughts of Jeno intensify the ache in your chest. You miss him—miss his touch, miss the simplicity of your connection.

"Tell me everything," Sunwoo urges, his voice a gentle plea.

And you do. You spill the fragments of your shattered heart, revealing how you and Jeno were once strong until the world intruded, shattering the delicate bubble of your love. The honeymoon phase faded, replaced by imperfections and external pressures. You couldn't bear the stares, the rudeness, the guilt for simply being in love. It felt like you were an enemy, an intruder in a world that refused to accept your connection.

You recount Seoyeon's cruel warning, the video, her words a venomous echo in your mind. The weight of her threat compounds your already fragile emotional state. Sunwoo listens, his comforting presence a temporary respite from the storm within. Before he hugs you, you just stare at him and sob. His gaze doesn't hold judgment, and the rarity of that these days breaks you. It's a poignant moment where you realize he doesn't see you as someone who's done something wrong.

As you cry in his arms, the release of emotions is accompanied by a profound sense of trust. You never did anything wrong, and Sunwoo, understanding that, becomes a pillar of support. The rarity of finding someone who doesn't look at you with condemnation in these trying times makes you melt into him. You know you can trust him—always have and always will.

Sunwoo rocks you back and forth in his arms, offering a comforting refuge from the storm within. As tears stream down your face, he speaks softly, his words carrying a pain that resonates deeply.

"You love him?" he questions, the ache in his voice weaving a tale of pain that doesn't entirely make sense to you.

You nod, biting your tongue to stifle the sobs threatening to escape. "I'm scared," you admit, the vulnerability laid bare.

He shakes his head gently, a determined glint in his eyes. "You love him. Fuck everyone else." The weight of his words settles in, a declaration that in this tumultuous journey, your love is what matters. In his embrace, the fear eases, replaced by a flicker of courage to face the uncertain path ahead.

✧ ✧ ✧

As you sit peacefully on the campus, absorbed in your thoughts, Chaeyoung, Nagyung, and Seoyeon approach with an air of hostility. Their presence feels like a dark cloud disrupting the tranquility around you. Nagyung shoots you a venomous glare, and the atmosphere becomes tense. Suddenly, you're transported back to a painful memory – your date with Jeno, tainted by Nagyung's threats and bullying.

Nagyung's voice pierces through the present moment, her words echoing the past torment. "Jeno is still posting photos of you two on his Instagram. Did you not take my warning seriously?" The mention of Jeno's name sends shivers down your spine, reopening old wounds. Despite the tears welling in your eyes, you choose to ignore them, desperate to shield yourself from the emotional assault. The intrusive trio persists, invading your personal space and freedom of mind.

As you endure their taunts, tears well in your eyes, a silent defense against the emotional onslaught. Avoiding their gaze, you refuse to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Despite your efforts to stay composed, Nagyung persists with another warning, this time invoking a sense of dread. She mentions the video with a snarl on her face. The mere thought intensifies your desperation to escape this distressing encounter, as their toxic words become increasingly unbearable. The urgency to distance yourself grows, making finding an exit your sole focus.

Their taunting has drawn a growing crowd, creating an overwhelming sensory experience. The stares and harsh words blend into a chaotic scene. Desperate to escape, you find your voice locked within, and your body feels paralyzed, as if controlled by an unseen force. In this moment, anger surges. You want to fight back, to regain control over your voice and movements, but an invisible restraint keeps you confined,

Sunwoo arrives, exuding a striking handsomeness that momentarily captures attention. His face bears a concerned expression as he looks at you, offering reassurance with a simple, "It's okay, I'm here." While he defends you against the trio, the ringing in your head and heightened anxiety make it difficult to decipher his words.

Certain phrases cut through the mental fog: "What's wrong with you?" and "You're all pathetic." He delivers a menacing warning, promising consequences, each word dripping with venom that silences the three girls who look stunned. Sunwoo, typically composed, adopts an unfamiliar rudeness, threatening the trio with a stern expression you've never witnessed before. The stark contrast leaves you both surprised and comforted, a mixture of emotions swirling as Sunwoo wipes away your tears.

Sunwoo's defense sparks a glimmer of hope within you, and your eyes light up with gratitude. As he smiles in reassurance, you make an effort to reciprocate, forcing a smile back, though feelings of unworthiness linger beneath the surface.

Witnessing him defend you creates a moment of vulnerability, you find yourself getting lost in his presence. Sunwoo gently wipes away your tears. Soft whispers escape his lips, words so sweet they make you giggle. Were you getting lost in his eyes?

His question breaks your trance "Where's your boyfriend?"

"I don't know, Sunwoo," you reply, your mind swirling with the reminder that you've ignored all of his texts.

"He should be here," Sunwoo asserts, concern etched on his face.

"It's not his fault," you instinctively defend him, your words flying past Sunwoo as he changes the subject.

"Do you want to come with me?" His hand gently rests on your back, a comforting touch that lights up a spark within you.

"Where?" you inquire, curiosity blending with uncertainty.

"Somewhere away from here," Sunwoo suggests, the idea hanging in the air.

"I don't—" you begin, caught in contemplation. The uncertainty about the proposal lingers, leaving you unsure if it's a good idea.

Finally, Jeno enters the scene, and an immediate tension envelopes the surroundings. Immature behaviour unfolds between him and Sunwoo, their gazes locking with an intensity laced with rudeness. The air thickens with arguments, and the perpetual tension that seems to shadow you becomes overwhelmingly stifling.

As you prepare to confront both of them, Jeno beats you to it. His eyes communicate a stern warning to Sunwoo, their locked gaze speaking volumes. In Jeno's intense stare, you sense an undercurrent of jealousy. He doesn't need words; the warning is implicit, especially as his eyes fixate on where Sunwoo's hand lingers on your back.

Sunwoo doesn't back away, he’s aching every second that you’re in this broken state. His frustration boils over. "Where the hell have you been?" His raised voice is directed at Jeno, who responds defiantly, "Shut up, Sunwoo, I swear to—"

"You're twiddling your thumbs while Seoyeon —" Sunwoo's words are cut off as he glances at you, his eyes softening instantly as he reads the silent plea in yours. Shaking your head, you silently beg him not to reveal the truth to Jeno.

"Sunwoo, stop it. Don't talk to Jeno like that," you interject, trying to diffuse the escalating tension. Sunwoo sighs, a heavy sadness lingering in his heart, all he wants to do is protect you but he also wants to respect your wishes.

Finally turning to Jeno, you realise you can't avoid him forever. You're a bit of a mess, dishevelled hair and tear-streaked cheeks. Jeno notices immediately and his eyes soften, his heart strings tugging and without a word, he pulls you into a comforting hug. You melt into his chest, shaking hands gripping onto his biceps. You hum in familiarity as he wraps his arms around you tighter. “I’m right here, baby.”

His fingers gently smooth out your hair, and he delicately kisses your face, his fingers following to wipe away your tears. You look up at him as if he holds your world. He has an undeniable hold on your heart. "Come with me," he suggests, and though you're initially reluctant, he pleads, "Please, Y/N."

"Don't you trust me?" Jeno asks, his eyes holding a sincerity that softens your defences. "I do," you respond, shedding silent tears as you hold his hand, letting him lead you away from the prying eyes.

Before parting, he kisses you softly, and in that vulnerable moment, everyone's eyes seem to be on you.

You catch sight of Seoyeon and Sunwoo, your breathing calming as you catch him defending your name. You watch as he snatches her phone from her with a relentless and anger that’s unpalatable, he must look crazy to others but you know what he’s doing. You feel a warmth in your senses, the cloud in your mind finally starting to dissolve when you see him navigate her phone. He’s deleted the video.

Jeno wraps his arm around you, a protective shield from the cruel stares and whispers. As he kisses your cheek softly, you find solace in the intimacy of the moment.

✧ ✧ ✧

In the familiar setting of Jeno's room, clad in his clothes post a shared shower, emotions swirl between you two. The act of cleaning each other felt tender, the guilt growing as his lips pressed against every inch of your body, each kiss carrying an unspoken declaration of the depth of his love for you. Jeno leans down, the rawness in his voice echoes, "I've missed you so much." The question hangs, "Have you missed me?"

Instead of verbalising, you lean forward, putting your mind off the pain by doing what you know best. Your lips press against his, a rough and passionate collision. There's an urgency as your lips connect, a mingling of longing and desire. The kiss deepens, and you bite down roughly on his bottom lip. As the kiss progresses, heavy breaths mix. The roughness of the kiss mirrors the intensity of your feelings, making every moment linger in the air.

Pulling away, Jeno gazes into your eyes, understanding etched in his expression. "You can always talk to me. I'm always waiting for you," he reassures.

Jeno silently leads you somewhere, and as you realize it's the room where the project is, you express, "Jen, I don't feel like working on the project now."

He gently hushes you and urges, "Just follow me."

In a secluded corner of the project space, Jeno guides you into an unexpected, confined pod. The air is charged with tension as he gently guides you to sit down, taking your hand in his. As he kneels before you, you glance around in confusion—this isn't the collaborative space you had developed; it's *your* pod.

"Jeno, what's going on? This is supposed to be our demonstration pod for the presentation." you exclaim, your worry evident.

Jeno, undeterred, whispers, "I don't care about the presentation right now." Holding your hand tighter, he reveals a pod personalised just for you—your favourite scent of vanilla, your favourite song filling the air with soothing melody, and a colour palette of soft lavender, muted gold, and touches of black. Images of blooming cherry blossoms and gentle ripples on a serene pond adorn the walls, creating a tranquil and visually pleasing environment.

Overwhelmed, you can't fathom how Jeno knows all these intimate details you've never shared. Tears well up in your eyes, and you ask, "How did you...?"

"I know you better than you think." Jeno says softly, wiping away your tears. "Let's do some mindfulness exercises together. It might help."

As Jeno leads you through deep breaths and visualisation, your internal struggle intensifies. The stress of using this personal creation for an impromptu session gnaws at you, overshadowing the intended therapeutic effect.

"We're going to get in trouble, Jeno." you stammer between breaths, your anxiety rising.

"I don't care about that right now. I care about you." Jeno replies, his voice steady but filled with concern.

However, you are too far gone. Jeno's efforts, genuine as they are, can't penetrate the walls of your distress. Realisation dawns on Jeno's face—he can't help someone who isn't ready to be helped. Holding your face in his hands, a tear escapes his eye.

"I love you. I want to help you." Jeno pleads. "My heart is breaking seeing you like this. Why won't you let me in?"

Sobbing, you abruptly stand up and leave the pod, leaving Jeno behind with a shattered expression. "I told you I loved you." he whispers, watching you disappear, unable to comprehend why you chose to leave despite his sincere efforts to connect. As you go, he notices the absence of those three words from you, and tears fill his eyes too, realizing the depth of your pain and the strain on your connection.

✧ ✧ ✧

The pulsating beats of the music echoed through the crowded room, a symphony of laughter and clinking glasses resonating in the air. Neon lights cast vibrant hues on the partygoers, transforming the space into a kaleidoscope of fleeting moments. Yet, in the midst of the lively chaos, your focus was on one person – Jeno.

The room felt suffocating as you navigated through the sea of bodies, your heart pounding in rhythm with the bass. This wasn't where you wanted to be; Jeno's infamous parties were the last place you'd willingly venture. Once, he had tamed his party spirit for you, a sacrifice to build a life together. Now, with the remnants of that love scattered like confetti, Jeno had reverted to his former self, perhaps even more recklessly.

He stood there, a red cup in hand, surrounded by the aura of popularity you once found intimidating. Memories of a time when he threw fewer parties for the sake of your connection flooded your mind. But now, any second threatened to pull him into the abyss of his "fuck boy" phase.

Summoning courage, you took a deep breath and approached him. His name left your lips, but he brushed you aside as though you were an apparition, the weight of his indifference making you feel transparent, like a forgotten ghost.

Attempting conversation only led to walls; he was rough, rude, a cruel reminder of a love now lost. The desperation to salvage what was left of a shared project pushed you to raise your voice, cutting through the noise of the party.

"JENO!"

His eyes met yours, a deadpan stare that could still weaken your resolve. The words you uttered about the pending project fell like heavy raindrops, but his response wasn't venomous – it was filled with an unexpected hurt.

"I'd rather fail," he said, and with that, he walked away, leaving you standing alone amidst the vibrant chaos, a solitary figure in a world that had once revolved aroundthe two of you.

As you gather your resolve to leave, the weight of impending all-nighters and deadlines bearing down on you, Donghyuck intercepts your escape with a mischievous smirk.

"Come with me," he insists, the insistence in his voice leaving no room for argument. "We're playing a game, and you have to be here. I won't let you go home yet."

Reluctantly, you follow Donghyuck into an empty room where a small group has gathered around a solitary bottle of alcohol placed in the center of the floor. Jeno sits on the opposite side, his gaze fixed on you. It takes a moment for you to realize why – you're wearing the dress he once gifted you, a stunning piece that captivates attention.

The atmosphere shifts as the game of spin the bottle begins. You shoot a glare at Donghyuck; this chaotic scene isn't your element. The room becomes a haze of alcohol, drugs, and unrestrained behavior. You feel like an outsider, an observer in a world that's foreign to you.

As the bottle takes its turns, the dares escalate, each one pushing the boundaries further. Yeji and Hyunjin had to dry hump, Chaewon and Ryujin shared an intense make out session and Karina faces a challenge that adds a layer of discomfort to the room.

Your mind begins to wander, almost fortunate to have escaped the bottle's whims, until it unexpectedly lands on Jeno. He maintains the same nonchalant expression, like a detached robot, throughout the game. Witnessing him in this state burdens your heart.

Then, your name is called, and the shock reverberates through you. Eyes widen, pulse quickens – you're suddenly the focal point of the game, and a daunting dare awaits.

“I repeat once more, Lee Jeno, would you rather kiss Y/N with the happy pill or do the same with Winter?” You gulp when you see that the bottle has landed on Jeno, Donghyuck’s words kept ringing in your head, you give him a deadpan expression and all he does is smile and blow you a kiss. He’s a menace. He planned this. You shake your head in annoyance as you see him rubbing his hand at the scene he’s created, the awkward silence, the tension, the stormy expression in Jeno’s eyes.

You gulp when you realise what’s truly going on. It’s a drug. You weren’t surprised, was it Jeno’s party if drugs weren't played with recklessly? You know Jeno loves them, he’s into that stuff, he’s crazy about it so why does he look so angry? You know him, you know his eyes should be growing with light and he’d be desperate to feel the release but he’s mad. He's abrupt and harsh. “Why are you involving drugs?”

There was a silence, Donghyuck just laughs

“I don’t want to do either.”

Jeno and Hyuck converse but it becomes a distant noise to you as you’re distracted. Your blood is boiling, you’re looking at Winter, her sweet smile and shadowed eyes giving you a racing heart. You know she doesn’t mean any harm by her actions, she isn’t a bad person but at the same time, her actions have had a negative affect on you.

Winter applies lip balm, puckering with certainty that Jeno will choose her over you. The anger you feel isn’t solely directed at her, but at the haunting memories of girls who made you feel weak and vulnerable, doubting the significance of your connection with Jeno. The realization hits – you stopped seeing Jeno to avoid this attention, to do what you thought was best.

No more. You’re taking a stand. You’re not focused on anything else, there’s so much booze and people, so much alcohol, so much music but your eyes are only on one person. the man you love so much. He’s arguing with Donghyuck so he doesn’t notice you move from your place, snatch the baggie from Donghyuck’s hand and give Winter a unapologetic glare, silently warning her not to move from her seat, it might’ve been childish but to your suprise she looks startled and sits back down.

You walk over to him and he immediately goes silent, eyes on you and instantly the light is restored. You’re shy and nervous but it doesn’t matter. he’s only one one that matters. making it up to him and showing him that you’re truly sorry and do want him matters the most.

He eyes the bag in your hand and looks stunned, eyes instantly going soft as he lowers you down onto his lap, hands moving all over. They grip the flesh on your thighs, biting his lip as he admires how sexy you look in the dress. His hands are gripping your waist securely, moving his face close to yours, showing the most concern and love in your eyes, that’s when you realise that the feelings never went, he’s never stopped adoring you.

“Baby.” he calls out your name softly, eyes looking over you in concern, you relish in his protective and caring touch that caresses your skin, you missed him so much

“Jeno.” you call out to him, holding onto his face so delicately, the two of you softly looking into each others eyes with giddy smiles, he nudges his nose against yours, calling you his pretty girl. Your spirits were too infectious to break. You truly ignored everyone else around you, especially Donghyuck, his background remarks kept ringing around, he was claiming that you were breaking every single rule in the game but you didn’t care

“Are you sure?” He questions with so much care as you bring the pill out of the bag, ready to put it on your tongue. he has strict eyes, you can see his protective side already. He wants your consent and he wants you to be 100% sure.

You know how much he loves stuff like this, you’ve always wished you was more outgoing for him. You don’t answer verbally.

You pull out pill from the bag, eyeing it like it was foreign, it was to you. You’ve seen Jeno do this so many times, you can do it. You handle it with care, making sure you don’t drop it as you place it on your tongue, eyes not leaving his as you do so, you see his breathing becoming heavy, a smirk that you love so much playing on his face. He’s in his heaven. He’s wanted this for so long. His two favourite things in the world. That combined with the fact he hasn’t touched you in so long, he’s already cumming in his pants.

You moan before you close your lips in on him, lips moving in a passionate yet slow manner, you haven’t done this in so long yet you instantly feel like home. You melt into his touch, fingers gripping onto him tightly as if he could slip away but you know he won’t ever again, it’s real, he’s yours.

He laughs against your lips when he realised you’ve become too indulged in the moment to forget that there was a pill resting on your tongue. He prods his own tongue against yours, the pill falling into his mouth effortlessly. Your tongues engage in a dance, conveying a depth of emotion that transcends words.

The warmth of your shared desire pulses through every lingering moment, igniting a fervent connection that speaks of longing, intensity, and the unspoken promises of passion.

The moment is heightened by a hundred, the kiss moves at a more rapid and intense rate, his hot breath moving against yours, you get lost in each other's embrace. Your kiss is making up for stolen time but you relish into him with a giddy smile when you realise that he’s yours and has always been. You won’t waste any time anymore,

You press against each together fervently, seeking solace and connection in the desperation of the moment. It's a collision of raw emotion, where the taste of longing lingers, and each kiss becomes a desperate plea for reassurance and a temporary escape from the overwhelming tide of uncertainty.

It’s frustrating that you had to do this with your clothes on, it’s clear that you both wanted to strip each other by the way your skirt had trailed so high up your thighs and how you’ve managed to unbutton half of his shirt. You’re gripping onto him for dear life as he starts thrusting against you, his hand pressed against your clothed clit, making rough motions as you grow more wet and frustrated as your lace thong sticks to you, you so desperately want him to strip you naked. His hardness prods against your pelvis, his tip meeting your folds every time he meets your hips.

You begin moaning his name against his lips, heavy pants and breaths against each other's mouth. In all honesty, you’ve both forgotten that there’s a crowd around you, your eyelids doubling explains why you’ve travelled to your own world with him. You’re so enchanted, desperate and horny for each other you genuinely forget you’re in the same room as people, so does he, his fingers are about to slide underneath your skirt and underwear to take it off in one rough motion, other hand reaching for a condom but you shake your head, telling him to cum in you because you’re still on the pill.

It’s so steamy. The 7 seconds has clearly exceeded a long time ago.

“Get a room! Can you guys take it somewhere else?” You’re finally brought back to reality, partially. You can only hear Donghyuck because he’s shouting close to your ear, tapping the both of you. You feel dizzy, you feel like you’re floating, you feel so good.

You ignore everyone, it’s just you and him. You continue to disregard everyone else as you finally hear all the background noise, the shouts and cheers, the whistling, the peering eyes. You don’t notice guys getting their phones out to film and take photos of you, you don’t notice Sunwoo knocking each phone from each shameless guys hands, deleting every photo and video and warning them with threats.

You’re out of your mind but you can recollect Jeno finally lifting the two of you up, he carries you to someplace more private, your legs around his waist as you continue to dry hump. You’re a mess, you keep moaning his name against his lips. “I know, I know, my love.” He whispers against your lips.

You feel a delicious thrill through your pussy, your heart beating erratically. The words ‘I love you’ are nearly slipping off your tongue.

“You’re my good girl, be patient and I’m gonna give you everything you want.” He promises, lust in his eyes. He magically manouvers through the crowds, dodging every single drunk, dancing person or couple all while making out with you passionately, his attention was 100% solely on you.

You let out a noise of excitement when you’re pressed against a wall roughly, Jeno follows shortly, his back pressing into yours. You travelled blind, you didn’t see a thing, you just maintained full trust in him. You can feel the change in atmosphere, it’s much quieter here, it’s just you and him.

He starts pressing kisses against the curve of your neck, languid and sensual, a heated whisper of desire lingered in the air. He caressed you with purpose, leaving his trail of heightened sensations behind with love marks and bites. You missed the feeling of him leaving hickeys so much. In that heated moment, your connection intensified, a symphony of shared longing and a promise of deeper, more intimate embraces to come.

He whispers against your skin, his touch although rough, lingered so softly on your skin. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.” He leans close to you, turning your tace to the side, his touch so caressing. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.” He says between kisses.

“Why did you ghost me like that? Hm?” He asks, fingertips gripping into your hips as he demands an explanation.

“I – I thought I was doing what was best.” You give a simple explanation, you was contemplating to fully explain what had happened, the conversation you had with Nagyung, the entire ordeal but now you’re standing here with the man you want to be with forever, so you realise that it doesn’t matter anymore. Maybe one day you’ll tell him everything but you don’t see yourself doing that anytime soon. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Jeno. What matters is that I’m here with you and I’ll never do that to you again.”

“I’m so sorry, I truly am. It wasn’t right for me to ghost you like that with no explanation, I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you did something wrong. The truth is you didn’t, you were so good to me. You made me feel a way that no one has ever before, I never imagined that someone would make me feel so cherished and appreciated, you came from nowhere and rocked my whole world.”

He smiles against your lips, it’s clear your apology is sincere and it touches his heart. “It’s okay, I forgive you and now I want to punish you.” His voice goes darker and you know it’s the sex in him talking, it turns you on so much.

“Then ruin me.”

“But I wanna make so much love to you.” He groans, an internal conflict playing in his heart. “You’ve gone so long without my touch, are you sure you want me to go hard on you?”

You manage to lock the door behind you, filled

with determination. That tells him enough. He’s confused when you get down from his hold, nearly stumbling once you’re on the ground as dizziness overcomes you but you force yourself to have a strong stance. You try to appear more confident than you are, your eyes heavy with the desire to make him feel good.

Your eyes don’t leave his when you get down on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with doe yet seductive eyes. He groans, getting himself ready with a huff, unbuckling his belt, cooing down at you when you struggled to do it, he cups your cheeks. “My pretty girl, you wanna make me feel good? You wanna make it up to me? You’re gonna take my cock in that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You nod, suddenly becoming shy at how direct he is. He tuts, shaking his head, fingers gripping the skin beneath your skin roughly, looking down at you and shaking his head. He wants you to beg for him. Your pussy grows wet at his change in attitude.

“How badly do you need my cock?”

“I need it so badly. I’ve been thinking about your cock every single day, I’ll do anything to feel and taste it.” You start begging and pleading, holding his hands softly and kissing the flesh as you know that you’re his soft spot.

But it makes no difference, he won’t give you what you need unless you beg for him the way he wants you to. His eyes grow dark and his voice goes deeper, looking down at you seductively, fingers pressing into your mouth as he gives you a taste for only second. “Say it then.” His finger prods between your top and bottom lip, eyes dark as he’s waiting for the word that he’s been so desperate to hear since rekindling with you:

“Please Daddy!!! Please fuck my throat, Daddy.” You scream at the top of your lungs.

“There’s my good girl.”

Your hands grip his clothed cock, impatiently waiting as he rids himself of his boxers. You bring your knees close together in a bid to feel something which doesn’t go unnoticed by him: “My greedy slut has no patience.”

He shakes his head.

Your anticipation builds as you grasp his thighs, eagerly opening your mouth and meeting his lustful gaze. His hand caresses your cheek before guiding his cock against your chin, his heavy length slapping against your skin. He enters your mouth, you close your eyes and moan into him instantly, savoring the sensation and losing yourself in the moment.

His deep groan resonates as you swallow, and he grips your face while withdrawing his cock slowly. Spit gathers at the edges of your lips as he thrusts back into your mouth. A whimper escapes as the head of his arousal reaches the back of your throat, causing your eyes to water.

"Fuck," he hisses, picking up the pace ever so slightly. Your hands ascend, clutching his belt loops, drawing him nearer until his hips meet your chin.

He lingers momentarily before withdrawing, granting you a brief respite before pulling him back in. He watches intently as each thrust causes your throat to bulge, his fingers pressing against your neck, relishing the sensation.

Your mind is adrift, captivated by him and the sensations he invokes. Your lips ache from the stretch, mirroring the intensity elsewhere. Unbeknownst to you, your thighs rub together, seeking relief from the building pressure within.

His hands descend, teasing with pinches and nipple flicks, eliciting involuntary jerks. His cock, unwavering, continues its rhythmic exploration of your mouth. Gripping your thighs, he forcefully spreads your legs, prompting a cough as he grunts at the tightness, his fingers tantalizingly close to your core. You hold onto his belt loops, immersed in the moment.

"So wet just for me, all for Daddy," he murmurs, his fingers exploring the depths between your thighs, causing your toes to curl. "I wish I could eat you out at the same time, baby," he groans. A whimper escapes as he inserts two fingers, your legs spreading wide in tandem with the rhythmic dance of his mouth and fingers, propelling you toward the precipice.

"So perfect for me. Down on your knees just for me, my cock in my princesses pretty little mouth." he declares, plunging his cock down your throat. Tears and saliva cascade into your hair as you whimper. He looks down at you with a mixture of adoration and sadism in his eyes. You can tell he’s still having a conflict, he wants to make love to you and make you feel like you’re in infinity but he also wants to ruin you.

Your chest heaves as he accelerates his fingers, his other hand anchoring you with pressure against your lower stomach. "Can you hear how wet you are for me?" he taunts, the audible squelch accompanying each swift movement. As the intensity heightens, a new dimension of pleasure unfolds, leaving you teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Your eyes begin watering as his thrusts become more languid, his eyes widening in size as he moans your name, sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth as his grip tightens on the makeshift ponytail he’s bunched your hair into, roughly yanking it to bring you even closer. “My pretty baby.” He admires you as you continue to open wide for him, drool and spit staining your cheeks

“Swallow.” He manages to demand in his hazy state, his voice a complete contrast to his gentle tone a few seconds ago. His cum drips out, so much of it.

You oblige like the good girl that you are, making Jeno’s heart race as he caresses your embrace, cooing at how good you’ve been for him. The liquid burns down your throat as you slurp every last drop, it drops all over your face. Jeno bites his lip and moans at the sight. Your panting against his cock as you savour every last taste, his cum that leaves a mark as it drips on your flesh.

The next thing you know is that he’s on the floor, knelt down beside you as he presses kisses all over your face. He melts at how cute you look covered in his cum, your cheeks a subtle pink as your lips curve up in a giddy smile. “Am I forgiven?”

He sighs, pressing the softest of kisses all over your face. “You’ve already made it up for me, my love.” He smiles, the most precious look ever. You don’t have time to respond because he lifts you up and kisses you, slamming the back of your body against the cold tiles.

“I’m gonna fuck you against the wall.”

He acts swiftly, aching desire between you both palpable. Impatience skips over prolonged foreplay. His hands roughly envelop your boobs as he profoundly fucks into you, your walls sucking him in.

His hips maintain a rapid, fervent pace against yours, igniting a symphony of sensations. Your voice rises, a crescendo of his name escaping your lips, the echo lingering in the air, dancing with the possibility of reaching others' ears.

"Good girl," he breathes, a whisper of dominance laced with desire. "You want everyone to hear how much you love me?"

In the aftermath, a blissful numbness envelops your body—a harmonious blend of pleasure and surrender. The echoes of passion's orchestration linger, leaving you immersed in the aftermath.

He continues his rhythmic movements through his climax, your legs trembling around him, creating a delicate balance. A subtle exploration finds that sweet spot, adding a layer of intimacy to the shared experience.

Whispering softly, he notes, "You're still so tight for me," expressing a connection that transcends the physical. The declaration of a need to be close, to share in the culmination of shared desire, adds a tender note to the symphony of emotions.

""I love you," you whisper with genuine warmth, the words echoing the depth of your feelings. "I've never stopped loving you, and I never will. It's you—always has been and always will be. I want to grow old with you, experience everything with you. I love you."

"You're incredibly beautiful. You're so good to me. You're my entire world," Jeno expresses, his voice a tender melody that wraps around your heart.

"Y/N," he speaks softly after a moment of quiet, his voice carrying a vulnerable tone that unveils layers of emotion. His eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and a promise of permanence.

"You won't leave me again?" he questions, the weight of his vulnerability evident in every word.

"Never," you reassure, your fingers tenderly running through his hair. "I will love you until I stop breathing."

A gentle smile graces his lips, and he closes his eyes, immersing himself in the rhythmic beat of your heart against his chest. His fingers weave through your hair, creating a comforting melody, and his breath becomes a soothing lullaby that caresses the intimate space between you two.

In a moment that lingers with sincerity and depth, he opens his eyes, gazing into your soul. "I love your more," he confesses, the words carrying the weight of every emotion he's ever felt. His declaration is not just a statement; it's a promise, a pledge to navigate the journey of love with you, embracing the beauty of every shared heartbeat and whispered melody.

✧ ✧ ✧

✧ ✧ ✧

Beneath the celestial canvas of a perfect graduation day, the atmosphere buzzes with an electric mix of excitement and nerves. As you stand on the stage, a serene breeze gently rustles the diplomas in your hands, symbolising the journey of growth and resilience. Above, clouds drift in the blue sky like transient dreams.

You’re surrounded by the sea of your peers, each face reflects the shared triumphs and challenges of the academic voyage. The air is thick with your nerves but your newfound ability to navigate anxiety renders the experience more bearable. You’re doing better, emotionally and physically.

So many eyes are looking up your way but your attention is drawn, unwaveringly, to one face — your handsome boyfriend. Dressed in a graduation suit that complements the solemnity of the occasion, his recently dyed blonde hair adds a touch of vibrancy to the scene. He looks hot.

His gaze meets yours, and as if orchestrated by destiny, the world around you blurs, leaving only the two of you in sharp focus. The warmth of his mesmerising smile works like a balm, dissolving the remnants of nervousness that linger. In this shared moment, he blows a gentle kiss, a silent reassurance that transcends words.

He motions to his phone and you smile his way, breaking eye contact to take your own phone from your front pocket, his text messages leaving a mark on your heart.

As Professor Suh announces the imminent commencement of the valedictorian speech, you swiftly tuck your phone away. You draw in a deep breath. A fleeting but meaningful smile passes between you and Jeno, His eyes, a comforting anchor, capture your attention one last time.

You observe him lean back, sigh, and brace himself, a knowing expression gracing his face, he knows that you haven’t listened to him. A subtle smirk plays on your lips as you witness his friends, quick to tease him. With the echo of your smile lingering in the air, you step forward, propelled by a newfound confidence, falling into the depth of Jeno's eyes one last time before embracing the responsibility of delivering the valedictorian speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed faculty, honored guests, and my extraordinary fellow graduates,

As we stand on the cusp of a momentous occasion, I want to extend my heartfelt congratulations to each and every one of you. Graduating and completing your honors is no small feat, and you should all be immensely proud of your hard work and dedication.

As I reflect on the journey that brought us to this significant moment, I want to share a story that began on my very first day at this university—a story that unfolded into a groundbreaking initiative. A project, focusing on Virtual Reality Therapy, emerged as a transformative endeavor, leveraging VR technology to construct therapeutic environments for those navigating stress, anxiety, or specific psychological conditions. The aim was audacious yet profound: to pioneer an approach that delves into the intricate realms of emotional, social, and cultural interactions within these virtual therapeutic spaces.

I must admit, the inception of this project was nerve-wracking. The unexpected assignment, the weight of its aspirations—I never envisioned being chosen for such an innovative venture. Yet, in the midst of uncertainty, I found myself humbled and honored to be part of this ambitious pursuit.

This project was not a solo endeavor; it was a collaborative journey, and I had the privilege of working alongside someone exceptional. Jeno, my partner in this endeavor, brought his engineering expertise to the table, playing a vital role in translating our vision into reality. Together, we navigated the challenges and triumphs of this innovative initiative.

As the project unfolded, it garnered recognition beyond our university's borders. It's not my intention to bore you with the details, for the university has rightfully celebrated its achievements. This initiative has earned global accolades, winning numerous awards and gaining recognition worldwide—an accomplishment that resonates not just within these academic halls but across the international stage.

Yet, if I may be candid, my personal connection with the project has evolved. While its success is undeniable, and its impact has reached far and wide, my focus has shifted beyond the accolades. It's a testament to the journey we've shared and the growth we've experienced together. Jeno and I, alongside all of you, have played our part in this remarkable chapter of our academic lives.

Now, as I shift the focus of our journey to a more personal realm, let me unveil why this project has become the most profound and romantic chapter of my academic venture. It’s a tale of love, of unexpected connections, and how, amidst the pixels and algorithms, I discovered something far more intricate—the story of how I met my boyfriend, Jeno.

Picture this: as we navigated the intricacies of the project, Jeno, my partner in this venture, revealed a side of himself that extended beyond the confines of his engineering expertise. He was, in essence, the orchestrator of a symphony of intelligence and charm, yet too nervous to stand before you today. His modesty led him to suggest that I take full credit for our shared efforts.

I couldn’t, in all honesty, adhere to his suggestion. You see, I find an unparalleled joy in showcasing him, in proudly proclaiming that he is not only the love of my life but also a brilliant mind beneath the carefully curated image he upholds. Jeno, despite his attempts to downplay it, exudes intelligence effortlessly, and it’s this subtle brilliance that makes him irresistibly attractive.

Sure, we’ve had our fair share of arguments, a clash of wills rooted in the image he feels compelled to uphold. But, oh, how we love. Love transcends the disagreements, and the project, beyond its academic significance, emerged as the catalyst that brought us together. It changed my life, and if you were to look into my eyes, you’d see the depth of my feelings—a love that transforms the way we gaze at each other.

Our eyes tell a story of admiration and attraction, a silent language that binds us with an invisible thread even when words remain unspoken. My eyes, always twinkling and smiling in the company of the love of my life, bear witness to undying feelings—a connection that surpasses the boundaries of time and space.

I share this not merely as a personal anecdote but as a testament to what truly matters. Love, in all its complexities and simplicity, matters more than the rigors of university assignments. University, at its core, is about forging connections and savoring the joy in every moment. It isn’t the end of the world, and even if we stumble, even if we fail, we will endure and live on.

As I reflect on our journey, I can honestly say I have no regrets. This year, I faced a tough challenge—severe anxiety. It affected everything—my studies, friendships, and especially my relationship with Jeno. But I want you to know, I overcame it. My message to all of you is that no matter what life throws your way, you have the strength to overcome it. I believe in you.

Life is unpredictable, but that's what makes it beautiful. Live your life fully, surround yourself with good friends and family. If things get tough, our pods, created by Jeno and me, is there for you.

And speaking of Jeno, the love of my life, this speech is for him. He's been my strength, and I dedicate these words to him. Thank you, and may your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.

So, as we stand on the brink of a new chapter, let’s celebrate the love that intertwines our stories. For in this shared journey, we find the essence of what makes university life extraordinary—moments of connection, joy, and, above all, love.

Thank you, and cheers to the Class of 2023. May your journeys ahead be filled with triumphs and love.”

As the cheers, claps, and laughter of the audience envelop the room, your joy is palpable. Hats soar into the air, mirroring the elation etched across your face. Happiness radiates from you, a beacon in the sea of celebration. Amidst the sea of faces, you find yourself scanning for one person, and a momentary pang of disappointment strikes when his seat appears empty.

However, a sudden embrace from behind interrupts your search, and there's only one pair of arms that could make you feel this secure. Your boyfriend envelops you in a back hug, his whispered words in your ear a sweet symphony of pride and love. He praises your performance, telling you just how incredibly well you did. “I’m so proud of you, I love you.”

His arms, strong and muscular, create a haven around you. You melt into the embrace, feeling the warmth and security he provides. Leaning back into him, his words take a playful turn. His hot breath against your ear, he smirks and teases, “You think you're the only one who can embarrass people?”

Suddenly, his lips meet yours in a public display of affection on the elevated stage. The kiss is not just a peck; it's heated, passionate, and unapologetic. The world fades away as he doesn't seem to have any intention of stopping.

In the heat of the moment, the kiss is all-consuming, a full-on collision of passion. Your tongues engage in a fervent dance, an intimate tangle that heightens the intensity. Jeno's bites on your lips add a playful edge to the heated exchange, each nibble sending sparks through the connection.

As he breathes heavily against you, the air between you crackles with desire. The sensation of his arousal intensifies, palpable in the way he presses against you. His grip on your hair is tight, an assertion of desire that elicits a wince, a sweet blend of pleasure and a hint of pain.

Amid the fervor, your arm circles around his neck, drawing him closer. A smile that plays on your lips before you break away to catch your breath. “I’m not embarrassed. Why would I be? I love you, and I don't care who sees and knows."

His grin widens as he witnesses your transformation—a bolder, more unapologetic version of yourself. In this moment, you radiate confidence, embracing the essence of who you are without concern for others' opinions. His love for you deepens as he watches you stand tall, proud of the person you've become. In his eyes, your authenticity and resilience are truly something to be cherished.

The audience, initially cheering for your performance, now witnesses a different kind of spectacle—one fueled by love, playfulness, and an unapologetic embrace of affection. It's a scene etched in the memories of those present, a testament to the unabashed love between you and your boyfriend.

As you both watch each other with affectionate smiles, Jeno can't help but speak up, his tone filled with playful disbelief. "Really? You're not embarrassed? What happened to that line you were gonna—" He pauses, groaning and widening his eyes as you tap on the microphone, shamelessly grabbing the audience's attention once again.

“Y/N. No. I was just joking. Oh God.”

A moment of silence descends like a dropped pin could be heard. "I have something to add," you say, holding Jeno's hand and locking eyes with him. "I don't believe in God, but God made you for me. I love you, Lee Jeno."

Jeno groans as people whistle but as he looks in your eyes, he has to admit that he’s quite fond of this moment. He shakes his head, coming up behind you once more. "I love you more," he counters with a teasing smile.

"Really, God made me for you? That's a good one," he remarks, his tone light but with a subtle darkness in his eyes.

You respond with a sweet smile, "Never in my life did I think I'd experience a love story like this."

Your gaze is light and affectionate, but Jeno's eyes darken as he playfully accuses, "My blasphemous girl."

The atmosphere is meant to be romantic, he’s kissing you so softly and cooing into your ear as you melt into his back, his strong arms caging you in. The crowd erupts in cheers, and you force a smile, concealing the internal struggle between desire and the need to maintain composure.

Your sharp warning cuts through the air, adding a tense edge. "It's supposed to be a romantic moment; I will cut your fucking dick off," you declare, your tone carrying a mix of threat and irritation.

"Don't talk to me like that when you're the one rubbing against me like a bitch in heat." He grits through his teeth, somehow managing to conceal himself when he lands a slap on your ass, warning you to behave.

"This is a cute moment. My parents are here, and so are yours. Your mom is crying," he whispers in your ear, prompting a wave and a few tears as you look her way but she’s not even paying attention to you, you roll your eyes as Jeno blows her a kiss.

However, he quickly shifts the tone, calling out your arousal. "And you're horny?" he remarks, a mix of amusement and admonishment. "You better stop, or the entire audience will hear you scream my name," he warns, heightening the suspense.

"And you're not wearing underwear? You needy slut.” Jeno teases with a playful smirk evident in his voice.

Your response, delivered with a pout, adds a touch of endearing innocence to the playful exchange. “You literally took it off in the car.” You protest, the pout reflecting a mix of innocence and mild reproach.

Jeno's counter, delivered with a chuckle. "Yeah, because you made me park halfway here because you wanted to ride my cock.”

“What was I supposed to do? You was so cute in the car, telling me that I’m your other half, that you see yourself marrying me and growing old with me, did you or did you not deserve to get your cock sucked in that moment?”

He gives you a knowing smirk. “I did.”

- -

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last night's story | jake

pairing: jake x female reader word count: 28.2k

synopsis: lured by the prospect of earning a couple extra bucks for the summer, you head north to man your aunt's surf shop on australia's sunshine coast. it's a visit that reacquaints you with everything you've been running from– old friends, abandoned memories, and one unforgettable jake sim.

genre: surfer!jake, childhood friends to exes to lovers, angst, fluff, eventual smut, attempt at humor

warnings: surfing inaccuracies galore, reader almost drowns, smut (fem oral receiving, fingering, penetrative sex). MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! please let me know if i've missed anything.

Despite growing up a five-minute drive from the ocean, you’d never quite learned how to keep yourself afloat among the waves.

Looking back on it, you found it quite ironic considering how everything you loved somehow tied back to the ocean one way or another. Whether it was your vacant seaside town, the colorful dishes your aunt prepared for you as a kid, or the people you cherished most– all of it was somehow irrevocably intertwined with the water.

And yet you’d always felt an unexplainable dread when you found yourself a bit too deep in. Once past the shallow end, surrounded by erratic water and a depthless bottom, you found it hard to breathe. No matter how much you fought to stay above, there was always a tide under all the waves, seizing you by the throat and rendering you motionless.

Coming back to your hometown felt a little bit like that– diving headfirst into a swelling wave and fearing you’d never find your way back up.

The handle of the train window jams as you yank it downwards, letting out a harsh squeak when you attempt to pry it open once again. After struggling to tug it flush against the sill, you prop your elbows up on the glass and heave your upper body to lean out, careful not to lose your balance.

Outside, you’re met with the heady smell of brine and the sun’s dying rays. The rusted sign denoting your town’s outer limits flies by in a hazy whisk, followed by the first few houses and tiny streets. The sky is a brilliant blend of soft pinks and warm yellows, the horizons of which frame the buoyant ocean’s glistening ripples.

Australia’s Sunshine Coast has always been beautiful, but the prospect of returning so soon has your stomach in knots.

The loud squawk of a passing seagull startles you into ducking back into the passenger carriage. The stop coming up is yours, but you can’t bring yourself to gather your luggage. Getting off the train seems like an impossible feat when you’re practically glued to its walls, too afraid to face what may be waiting for you once you get off.

A sharp whistle resounds from the conductor’s carriage, and you hear the tracks below you screech as the train begins rolling to a steady stop. You duck back towards your aisle to tug your suitcases out from underneath the seat, palms numb as you grip their handles and wheel them towards the door. You know you can’t stay.

The world outside slows to a painful stop as the train reaches your town’s platform, and you hesitate before pushing the rotational gear to open your door. You’re able to momentarily forget about all your nerves as you struggle to haul your baggage off the carriage, too preoccupied with the fear of missing a step to look up.

Sunghoon’s waiting for you by the singular bench the shoddy platform has to offer, hands pocketed in his light-washed denim shorts. He squints at you through the last beams of the setting sun, lips pulled in an uncharacteristically fond grin. The golden light catches his face at an angle that makes him look like a ghost. He’s everything you remember and yet nothing you recognize.

“Well, well, well,” he tsks, but it isn’t unkind. Sunghoon crosses his arms and looks you over, cocking his eyebrow sassily. It almost makes you want to forego the initial jibing, but you surmise it wouldn’t be a proper reconciliation with Sunghoon without it. “Look at what the tide dragged in. Haven’t seen this species of blobfish before.”

“I missed you too, Hoonie,” you croon, abandoning your suitcase in favor of running forward and looping your arms around him. Sunghoon readily envelopes you in his hold, bringing you into his warmth with a teasing oof.

He’s soft and smells faintly of sunscreen, the generic kind you stopped buying once you moved away to Melbourne. He still holds you like you mean everything to him, and he’s still everything to you.

Pulling back, you study the grooves of his face where the sun dips into, frowning at the chiseled remains of Sunghoon’s younger self. He’s different and grown– his cheeks don’t carry the same youthful chubbiness and his eyes are sharper, nearly devoid of the juvenile spark you’d come to adore so much.

You’ve only been away for two years, and yet Sunghoon looks like a stranger.

The two of you haul your luggage into the back of his junky Toyota, flinging the trunk closed with a resolute bang and crowding into the vehicle to avoid staying out in the humidity for a second longer. The air conditioning system sputters to life after Sunghoon slams on the dashboard twice, and you sigh out of relief once you’re finally met with air that doesn’t feel suffocating.

Leaning back into your seat, you hiss when the heated leather meets the bare skin of your thighs, pouting as Sunghoon drives off from the train station.

“How was the trip in?” Sunghoon’s question is too customary, too formal, but it still distracts you from the lingering burn.

“Fine,” you answer. You pick at the stuffing that’s coming out of a rip in your seat, frowning. “There was a crying baby in my carriage and a weird stain on my seat that I hope was juice, but otherwise just fine.”

Sunghoon hums, peering at you out of the corner of his eyes. He pulls into another street and stops at a red light, tapping his fingers impatiently on the wheel and shifting in his seat. He clears his throat, uncharacteristically nervous, and finally turns his head to look at you fully, “You look different.”

“So do you!” You’re quick to fire back, feeling flustered. You gesture at him limply with your hand, unsure of how to tell him he looks nothing like what you remember. Attractive, clearly more confident in his skin, but different.

It makes you slightly queasy, the thought that in just a matter of a year or so, you’d lost track of the boy you’d called your best friend for so long. You blame it on the swaying from the train.

Your town’s small enough to cross through with a car in about 15 minutes, but it feels like you’re locked in Sunghoon’s Toyota for several hours. The burning leather under your legs doesn’t ease up, and at some point, the air conditioner stops working and starts bringing air in from outside, so it feels a little bit like hell.

As you round the corner and enter the street where your aunt’s shop is located, you feel your chest tighten with anticipation. The houses you pass are achingly familiar, with shades of blues, yellows, and reds nudging memories that you thought you’d left in the back of your mind. It feels like the neighborhood has been locked in time, put away and forgotten after you’d seen it for the last time two years ago.

But unlike Sunghoon, you find that the shop looks virtually the same as it did when you left. The relief you feel is quickly replaced with guilt.

Parking his car in front of the sidewalk, Sunghoon pops the trunk and the two of you get to action immediately. You heave out what bags you can carry, wanting to minimize your trips to the car, and waddle after Sunghoon as he goes to unlock the front door. In the window of the shop, you spot a note with Sunghoon’s loopy writing spelling out Closed, I’ll be back later!.

Entering the shop feels weird, but not in the way that you’d anticipated that it would. You’re hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia as you look around, taking in the interior of the place with a racing heart. Minus the cheap paint job in an effort to reverse the sun bleaching along the walls, you can find traces of yourself still left behind in almost everything.

By the crown of your foot, there’s a splotchy stain you’d left on the welcome mat after attempting to balance your friends’ coffee orders, too distracted to consider the fact that the cups were hot as shit. Next to you, there are markings along the door frame where your aunt had kept track of your height throughout the years, notched into the wood for you to remember till eternity.

As you step further into the shop, you spot drawings and paintings you’d done as a kid on the wall behind the register, hung up with colorful push pins. Above them, up on the shelves, there’s a potted plant you’d gifted your aunt for one of her birthdays, now much larger and with more leaves than when you had parted with it.

“Auntie kept a lot of your stuff,” Sunghoon voices your thoughts, grinning when you look up at him with wide eyes. “Most of it’s upstairs in the guest room. You’re cool with staying there, right?”

Nodding, you set your duffle bag down with a huff, rolling your neck. The prospect of going up any stairs at the moment seemed almost painful to you, but the thought of falling into bed and resting your head on something soft (and not the dingy window of a train) was too tempting to ignore.

It takes three trips in total to move all of your belongings from the car to the room you’ll be staying in, but Sunghoon doesn’t complain even once as he strains under the weight of your luggage. You gather all of your bags in an empty corner of the room, drawing up a chair to tug open the small window higher up on your wall. Outside, the sky has darkened to a deep purple, and the first stars are beginning to appear in scattered formations.

Collapsing on the bed, you shuffle around until your head hits a pillow, sighing as you sink into the soft material.

“There’s dinner in the kitchen,” he muses, “I bought it before I went to pick you up so it won’t be warm, but you should still probably eat before going to bed.”

“I should,” you sigh, heaving yourself up and blinking blearily at Sunghoon. He leans patiently against the doorframe and stares back at you, sticking his tongue out when your sleepy mind begins drifting off again. You startle, suddenly remembering, “Shit, wait. Hoon, where are you going to sleep?”

“The couch in the living room folds out, and it’s surprisingly comfy. Don’t worry,” he promises, flicking the light switch off and cackling when you squeak in surprise. “That fried chicken isn’t going to get any warmer, by the way.”

“You got me fried chicken?” You mumble as you get up, trudging after Sunghoon into the well-lit kitchen. Indeed, you find a bucket of fried chicken sitting on the counter, covered with a plastic bag in a vain attempt to keep it warm. “Fuck, I love you Hoonie. I’m so glad I came back.”

Sunghoon laughs as you pluck a drumstick off of the top and bite into it like a vulture. He leans onto the counter and continues to watch you eat, a slow grin spreading on his lips.

“Yea? I’m glad, too.”

☀

The decision to move away was one you’d been planning since high school.

Despite containing so many places and people that you loved, you’d always thought that there was something bleak, almost draining about your town. It felt like it was slowly bleeding you out from the inside, and the choice between here and elsewhere was one that was inevitable for you to make.

Jake had always called you crazy when you brought it up, but you knew he’d never get it. His whole life was set up here. Meanwhile, you knew your existence here was only fleeting. A momentary thing, never meant to stay for long.

The logistics of it were simple enough to your sixteen-year-old self; you’d work hard to finish school with high marks, get into a university in Sydney or Melbourne on a scholarship, and leave your town for good.

But the year after you graduated high school was stagnant. You picked up a job at a seaside restaurant and focused on saving up money to afford university and move to an apartment in a bigger city. The work’s long and tiring enough to numb you for a while, but it’s unavoidable that you get sucked up in everything you didn’t manage to leave behind.

Jake’s there too, because he’s always been in every single part of your life and you can’t run from him no matter how hard you try. Freshly-single, nineteen-year-old Jake had committed himself to ensuring that you stuck around for as long as possible, even if that meant inadvertently clipping your wings by telling you he loves you.

You don’t mind it at first. It’s hard to find a problem when the boy you’ve wanted since middle school admits that your feelings are reciprocated. It’s hard to think about moving away when you’ve yearned for so long, when Jake is finally in the palm of your hand and not off with somebody else. You’d forgotten to factor him into your delicate future, forgotten that him loving you back was an option.

It’s enough for a while– even if your job is shit and every day feels like a monotonous cycle of nothing, your head’s in the clouds when you’re with Jake. You feel yourself most when you’re with him, even if you’ve begun to forget who you are without him.

Moving away is at the forefront of your mind until it suddenly isn’t– there’s something keeping you tethered down and you can’t ignore it no matter how much you love Jake.

“I don’t think I can stay here any longer,” you tell him. “I’m not meant to stay here forever, Jake. It’s not fair.”

Jake had looked at you with a tired smile, almost like he knew you two didn’t have much time left. When the light caught his eyes at the right angle, you could see that they were glossy with regret. “I know. But it’s not fair to me to uproot everything I have here. I won’t be anyone if I leave.”

And in a way, you understood. While this place was nothing to you, it was all that Jake had.

That night, you rushed home to pack everything you could fit into a suitcase and backpack. For better or worse, Jake didn’t answer when you picked up, so you left him one last token of yourself in the form of a voice mail. The final decision to move away was made on a whim, finalized with a one-way train ticket you’d bought in the late hours of the night, and you hadn’t looked back on it. Until now.

A week before you were set to finish off your university term, Sunghoon’s name had shown up on your phone at a time far too late in the evening for you to ignore. After months of radio silence, you’d been startled into picking up and stuttering your way through a greeting. You’d barely recognized his voice over the phone at that time.

He’d called with a proposition so stunning you could barely gather your thoughts before responding with a shaky yes. Your aunt had to leave her surf shop behind to get treatment, and desperately needed someone to cover while she was gone. Sunghoon had told you that he couldn’t possibly do it by himself, and he’d called the only person he knew would care so much to arrive on such a late notice.

The decision to come back was not one you’d planned for either. You’d left with the intention of staying in Melbourne until you graduated from university, and foresaw nothing that could bring you back this early. Followed by another ticket bought at an hour so late the sky outside was beginning to pinken, you ended off your last exam and left for home on the same day.

The parallels between the situations were cruel in the way that it felt like you could never really leave– something would always bring you back, no matter how much you ran from it.

The shop is drowning in the morning light when you make it to the bottom of the stairs. It’s too early for you to be up, that much is evident in the way your feet drag behind you, but you cannot afford to flake out your first day on the job. And it seems like your boss is already waiting for you.

“Mango!” You squeal, suddenly all too awake as you run to approach the counter. Your aunt and Sunghoon hadn’t mentioned anything about her cat staying behind as well.

The chubby orange cat blinks back at you unfazed, fluffy tail swishing noncommittally over the cash register. When you reach out to pet the beloved baby, he rolls over on his back and chirps while you coo over him like you’ve personally carried him for 9 months and then birthed him.

You begin setting up to open the shop for the day after you fill Mango’s bowl up and sneak in a few more chin rubs. Though you were no stranger to how your aunt ran things, you found yourself retracing your steps and looking around blankly more than once as you went through the ministrations. You felt like a ghost hovering, revisiting opaque memories and relearning how to navigate what you’d once called familiar.

Your stomach’s in knots over the prospect of having to face people you know again. Last night was different– you’d been locked away safely with Sunghoon upstairs, away from peering eyes and curious mouths. This was about to change as soon as you opened the shop.

You manage to get the doors open with only a two minute delay. No one actually enters the shop until an hour later, when you’ve cozied up behind the counter and taken to eating your breakfast. At that point, you’d shaken away some of the nerves you’d woken up with and are able to welcome the customer with a soft smile that doesn’t feel forced.

Sunghoon comes down to check on you sometime later, still in his pajamas and sporting a surprised look on his face.

“Wow, I’m genuinely shocked you haven’t destroyed the place by now,” he comments slyly, taking a loud sip from his coffee mug.

“I’m more shocked that you’ve managed to keep this place open for so long by yourself,” you bite back. When you hear the front bell chime, you immediately straighten up and call out a friendly greeting to the customer, ignoring the way Sunghoon laughs at your switch up.

He saunters over to join you behind the counter, pretending to busy himself with fixing things on the shelf while the customer pays. Once you’ve bid them goodbye and closed the register, Sunghoon rounds on you and crosses his arms, shaking his head gravely.

“You forgot to give her the receipt that the card machine printed, fucked up big time now. I should fire you.”

“If you came down here to micromanage me, I suggest you go back to sleep,” you huff, reaching out to crumple up the forgotten receipt.

Sunghoon’s face visibly softens. “Hey, you know I’m just messing around, right? I’ve forgotten receipts countless of times before.”

Humming, you begin to clear off the counter and wipe down the surface.

“Are you mad at me?” Sunghoon asks carefully, lingering next to you. “I’m sorry. We used to make jokes like this all the time back in the day, I assumed you’d still be okay with it.”

This makes you frown guiltily. Your hands pause and you turn around to look at Sunghoon fully. “I’m not mad, just a bit on edge at the moment. I’ve been a bit stressed out about this whole thing all week, and it feels like I’m going to explode if something else goes wrong. I guess all this anxiety’s been making simple shit slip my mind.”

Sunghoon nods quietly as if to urge you to continue.

“Everything is so familiar and yet it’s all so strange and I feel like I’ve forgotten everything,” you whisper, voice cracking at the end. “I miss my aunt, I miss my apartment, I miss Melbourne. I feel so silly for not coming back earlier, but I know I wasn’t ready. And I don’t even know if I am now.”

There’s a weight on your chest that’s suffocating you and making the words stick to your tongue like tar. Sunghoon’s eyes are gentle as they look into your own, understanding and patient, and you feel the guilt consume you from the inside.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon. I’m scared to see Jake again. To go outside and see everything that reminds me of him. I’m scared that I’ll have to live with this fear always, that I won’t know peace where I’m supposed to feel at home.”

You don’t realize you’ve teared up until Sunghoon quietly hands you a tissue. You wipe your eyes and laugh shakily at the incredulity of it all– you’d cried enough before leaving Melbourne, convinced you’d forget all about your worries once you were actually here. You were far from right.

Sunghoon’s warm arms wrap around you and your mind blanks for a second. He squeezes you tightly and holds you for a while, until you feel your breathing begin to even out again. Quietly, you thank him and relax in his embrace.

After promising Sunghoon you’d be fine with finishing your shift, you go back to cleaning out the counter. You only have half an hour left, but you’re determined to see it through to the end. There’s a box of inventory that needs to be unpacked anyway, and you’d rather not sit around at the register and think for a minute longer.

Once your shift’s over, you trudge up to your room and immediately slump onto your bed. It’s got a loose spring somewhere that’s poking into your thigh, but at the moment, it’s the most comfortable surface you’ve ever laid down on. You could care less when a nap is overdue.

Mango seems to have different plans, however, as he saunters into your room and meows loudly. You don’t bother to look up until he’s resorted to jumping onto your bed, incessant meowing now right under your ear. You really should’ve closed the door.

Blearily blinking your eyes open, you see that Mango has situated himself next to your bedside drawer and is preparing to jump onto the very limited surface there. Yelping, you sit up and carefully move him back onto the ground, where he can do less damage and knock over less of your belongings. He makes an angry huff, but you ignore him in favor of checking to make sure everything on the drawer’s fine.

There’s a cup that you most definitely hadn’t left. Squinting and peering inside, you find that it’s filled with tea, made from the spearmint packets your aunt used when you weren’t feeling your best. There’s still steam coming out from the top, which means Sunghoon must have made it for you right before coming down for his shift.

You can’t stop the giddy smile that stretches across your lips while you pick up the mug. As you take tiny sips, your stomach begins to warm, and the feeling slowly spreads to the ends of your being. The feeling in your chest unfurls the tiniest bit, and you surmise that despite it all, you’ll be just fine.

☀

Working at the shop is monotonous for a while. You and Sunghoon take turns swapping shifts so that you don’t have to be up with the sun every morning, but you still keep each other company for the later ends of your hours. It’s nice to have someone there with you to fill the gaps in between the customers, someone to whine to about the guy who came in reeking of wet dog and the kid that left sand all over the floor.

Catching up with Sunghoon is simultaneously weird and the highlight of your day. You’d practically grown up with him, and yet you now knew close to nothing about him. His irregular Instagram updates were nothing to lead off on, but you surmise your own lack of social media presence must’ve frustrated him right back.

Sunghoon is more than eager to share stories from the gap in his life for which you’d been gone. You’re able to piece together who he is now with relative ease, even if you’re bridging unfamiliarities in areas you’d thought he’d never change. He’s no longer the awkward, floundering boy you knew for so long. He’s sure in himself and his actions, he’s deliberate with his thinking and purposeful with everything he tells you.

Sunghoon shares with you that he’s almost finished with his kinesiology degree and that he’s been visiting the local hospital more and more often to shadow doctors. He still wants to do medicine, just like he’d told you in high school, but he wants to focus more on sports medicine and hopefully work in therapy. He also proudly tells you that he’d recently gotten his driver’s license, despite refusing to touch a car when you were both finally old enough to drive, to which you snort and tease him with yeah, who passed ya?. 

He’s still your Sunghoon, even if he’s blossomed differently from the Sunghoon you grew up with.

Aside from him, you have Mango to keep you company. The cat barely pays you any attention as usual, instead choosing to nap in places he shouldn’t be and ignoring you when you call him for pets. But you know that behind that tough exterior, Mango loves you so.

To say you’re lonely would be untrue. Every now and then, a customer will chat you up while you’re at the register. They’re curious at seeing an unfamiliar face and you can’t blame them, but it’s sweet all the while. You get a few recognizable faces in between as well, people you went to high school mixed in with older family friends who coo at you and instinctively reach out to pinch your cheek.

It’s Jake’s face that you least expect to see in your shop. You think it’s inevitable that you’d eventually run into him, but it doesn’t surprise you any less.

You were manning the register just half an hour after swapping with Sunghoon when the bell above the door whistles familiarly. You call out a friendly greeting and look up, only to choke on the last syllable. Just from his side profile you immediately recognize him– the grooves of his face are achingly familiar and the sweet tone of his nonchalant good afternoon back is like a punch to the gut.

You know he’s likely unaware that you’re back at all, let alone working here now, but it feels oddly motivated from the universe’s side. Your stomach swoops as you watch him disappear one of the back aisles, and you have a minute to pace your breathing again before he reappears and begins approaching the register.

Your blood runs cold once he finally looks up and notices you. You think your heart’s going to beat out of your chest and fall onto the tile floor when he stops in his tracks and stares back at you like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh,” he says surprised, mouth hanging open around the syllable. “Um, hi.”

Your lips twitch but you’re unable to utter a greeting back. Jake approaches the counter like one would a wounded animal, and you hate the way your legs jerk with the want to step back. You think you hear him say something more, but it’s masked by an echoey ringing in your ears.

“Hi,” you croak, mindlessly reaching out to what he’s placed on the counter. Your palms are sweaty and so, so cold and you can’t even feel your fingertips where they’re wrapped around the sharp edges of the box.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Jake says, but it barely registers in your mind. Despite the gaping feeling in your stomach, you laugh at the formality, some color returning to your cheeks. Jake visibly relaxes at this.

“Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting to run into you right now.” Or ever, but you think it’s best left unsaid.

Jake shrugs. His eyes roam over your face curiously and you try not to curl in on yourself. “How long have you been back?”

“Just over a week now.”

He hums, gaze settling on the way your hands fidget with the item until the scanner finally picks up on its barcode. You hurriedly place it back onto the counter and slide it toward him.

“I really do mean it, you know.”

Starting, you blink up at him unassumingly. “Sorry?”

“That I’m glad to see you again,” Jake clarifies.

“What’s all this for anyway?” You’re quick to ask instead, words bubbling out of you like a stream. Your heart’s racing pathetically and you’re embarrassingly hung up on the fact that Jake cares.

Jake doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the change in topic. “I needed a new fin set for my board. I’ve got a few competitions coming up and figured I’d polish things up a bit.”

Right. It was no surprise to you that Jake never abandoned his love for surfing, unlike everything else.

“You should come watch me at the state qualifiers next week,” Jake continues while leaning over the counter, propping himself up on his elbows and fixing you with an impish look. You want to reach out and shove his forehead with your fingers, but you have to remind yourself that this isn’t the same Jake you’d grown up with. Whatever you’d once had was forgotten in the past.

“Sure,” you say, ignoring the nagging warmth in your chest. Feigning nonchalance, you busy yourself with tapping on the checkout screen of the iPad, if only to give your hands something to do other than to fidget with your shirt. “Me and how many other chicks?”

Jake laughs good-naturedly, but the momentary lapse of insecurity in his voice isn’t lost on you. You feel guilty for just a moment, but don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. After finalizing his order on the screen, you look up to find Jake already looking back at you, almost expectantly.

“Your total’s $270.59.”

Jake’s face falters the slightest bit, but you don’t think it’s because of the ridiculously high price. “Does that factor in the ‘good friend discount’?”

The phrase makes something sour flood in your mouth, and you resist the urge to scowl. The receipt machine prints out his total, and you rip the paper out with more force than admitted necessarily. You nearly slam it down on the counter in front of Jake, peering up at his shocked face through your lashes. “Yea? What’s my favorite color, Jake?”

Noticeably taken aback, Jake’s confident demeanor slips away as easily as a receding wave. He stutters around his next sentence, and you try not to let your satisfaction show as you open the register. Jake looks down as he counts through the bills in his wallet, pulling out several and passing them timidly across the surface. “Uh–, well, hmm. Something… blue? Wasn’t it blue?”

“I hate blue,” you spit the lie out a bit too quickly, and hope Jake can’t see right through you. You accept the bills you’re handed with pursed lips, slipping them into your register and handing back the few cents you owe him.

“You don’t,” Jake answers immediately, not bothering to reach out and pocket the change. “You love blue. Specifically that light seafoam shade you see on the shore. Said it reminded you of summer.”

Despite how much you want to disagree, your throat feels all dry and your eyes are stinging and you don’t think you can bear to look at Jake much longer without saying something regretful. But something about letting him think he still knows you makes your fists clench and gut boil.

“People change,” you say with an air of finality. “I changed. You changed.”

Jake takes his bag and steps back from the counter with the expression of a kicked puppy. He looks back at you like he wants to say something, something long left untouched, and you resist the urge to hide behind your counter and cover your ears with your hands.

You feel naked and vulnerable– like Jake has carefully stripped away every last layer of your defenses and he can see the rotting remains of everything you didn’t say. You hate how he looks at you, like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and the inner monologue you’ve been fighting since you first met him. Like he still knows you in and out, despite moving away and changing every last bit of yourself that reminded you of him.

“Thanks for shopping with us,” the smile you give him is painfully artificial, and you shut the register with a bang that echoes around the shop. “Have a good day, Jake.”

☀

Besides taking a trip up the coastline, there were only a handful of other things one could do in town to stay busy. You relied on the usual small-town things that somehow never got boring; going to the drive-in theater, drinking milkshakes until your jaw and stomach ached, and driving endless loops around the town.

Problem was, most of these only worked with other people. Your few options decreased even further during the summertime, when leaving an air-conditioned space was essentially a self-inflicted death sentence. Alone or not.

Living in such a small town also meant that out of the three or so choices you had, you were guaranteed to run into someone you knew wherever you went. It was one of the reasons you were so eager to leave, to finally go live in the big city where shops didn’t close at 5 and where you could go for a walk without seeing a familiar face you had to avoid.

And whether or not you dared to admit it, you were afraid of running into someone while out on your own.

You’d nearly forgotten about that aspect when coming back, only to be cruelly reminded on your first designated day off.

“What do you mean I’m not working today?” You cross your arms, frowning at Sunghoon’s figure behind the counter. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“You and I both know there’s like, only two possible answers to that,” Sunghoon sniffs, not bothering to look up at you from his phone. “And I don’t think you’d be interested in either of them.”

While true, you also didn’t want to give up that easily. “Shoot.”

Shrugging, Sunghoon finally divulges you with his attention, rubbing at his brow bone contemplatively. “Auntie Lee’s diner got a new arcade machine. Plus you never got to try that cookie dough shake she introduced after you left.”

“Cute, but I feel stupid going by myself,” you sigh. Heaving yourself up on the counter, you ignore Sunghoon’s noise of complaint and prompt him to keep going.

“Go see a movie or something?”

“All the new releases look like shit.”

“Get some coffee?”

“If I have another cup I’ll start vibrating.”

“Yard sales?”

“No, it’s hot as balls out.”

Sunghoon pauses, and you nearly think this is it, you’ve finally gotten on his nerves, but he taps his chin and hums, almost like he’s genuinely as invested in this as you are. And then he looks up at you with something malicious in his eyes, and you know you made a mistake coming to him.

“Jake’s place has a pool,” Sunghoon drawls knowingly, “but I’m sure you already knew that.”

Hopping off the counter, you ignore his cackling in favor of flipping him off. “Go fuck yourself, Hoon.”

The rest of your afternoon is spent very excitingly: you rot around in bed for a few extra hours, switching between three apps until refreshing your timeline no longer produces any dopamine. You get up only once Mango saunters into your room and begins incessantly meowing, a clear demand and order for you to feed him. 

Whilst in the kitchen, you decide to have lunch as well and reheat some leftovers for yourself. As the microwave drones on in the background, you fill out a postcard for your aunt to remind her you’re thinking of her and scavenge the drawers for stamps.

Unsurprisingly, you find your phone nearly dead when you come back, so, driven by a sudden burst of Marie Kondo-like motivation, you forgo charging it in favor of attempting to rearrange the entire layout of your room. It only ends up looking even more like a prison cell, except now you’ve precariously stuck up a bunch of wall decor that you unearthed in the clean-up process. A pretty prison cell.

There’s a band poster above your bed of four dudes you don’t recognize, along with fashion and music magazine cutouts from the 90’s. Your aunt had kept a surprising amount of the drawings little 5-year-old you had ceremoniously gifted her, and you try your best to arrange them in a way that complements the other shit you’d stuck up. Obviously, it doesn’t work out quite well.

Sunghoon finds you laying down, though this time it’s on the floor and not your bed. You hear him sigh obnoxiously loudly, followed by his phone’s camera shutter going off, and then a delayed but very pronounced Sunghoon-y laugh. The floorboards creak as he steps closer, pausing right next to your head.

“I’m going out with some friends,” he announces, prodding your shoulder with his foot. “I’m extending the invitation to you ‘cause I don’t want to have to drag your corpse out of here later.”

You sit up way too fast and your neck flares up in pain, but you ignore it in favor of batting your eyes up at him. “Where are we going?”

“Get dressed, Jay’s going to be here in ten,” Sunghoon sing-songs, not paying mind to the customary middle finger you flash him. “Something you can get wet in, preferably.”

There’s a dirty joke missing somewhere, but you forgo it in favor of jumping up and tugging off your ratty gym shorts.

Making yourself look presentable in ten minutes is a feat, but you manage to tidy up well enough that Sunghoon gives you a thumbs up when you join him in the shop upstairs. Despite the fact that you’re wearing shorts and a tank, it’s hot enough that you have to fan yourself aggressively as you wait for Sunghoon to finish packing his tote bag. He himself is donning a very similar attire– another pair of jean shorts and a loose, tucked-in shirt with a palm tree stitched onto the front.

The two of you are locking up the front door when a car honks loudly from behind you, startling you into dropping the keys by your feet. You grumble as you reach down to pick them up, ignoring Sunghoon’s bellowing greeting back.

As you approach the vehicle, the windows on your side roll down in tandem, and two familiar heads poke out like meerkats to gape at you.

“Holy shit, since when are you back in town?” Heeseung is the first to speak, leaning through the window and breaking off into a wince when he slams the top of his head against the window trim.

You have to hide your laughter behind your hand as Heeseung rubs at his scalp and Beomgyu chastises him for being stupid. They get over it pretty quickly though, and turn back to stare at you like meerkats. 

“Hey to you too,” you flush under the sudden attention, hugging your bag to your front. “I came in last week.”

Sunghoon must notice your discomfort, because he tugs you toward the other side of the car, opening the door for you and covering the top rim with his hand lest you suffer the same fate as Heeseung. Thanking him, you duck inside, scooting in next to Beomgyu and giving him what you hope comes off as a warm smile and not an anxious waver. 

Sunghoon climbs in after you, shutting the door and settling back in his seat with a groan. He reaches behind his back to pull out a fast food wrapper, chucking it at the back of the driver’s seat with enough force to send it bouncing back in his own lap. “Jesus fuck, when’s the last time you cleaned up around here, Jay?”

“I would’ve cleaned up had I known we’d have company,” Jay mumbles sheepishly. He drives off from the store, rounding the corner and setting you off on what you faintly remember as being the way toward one of the main beaches.

“It’s really nice to see you again,” Beomgyu interjects brightly, nudging your shoulder gently with his own. Wordlessly, you lean back into his warmth, letting your shoulders sit flush against each other. You think he gets the message.

“Why didn’t you let us know you were coming back?” Heeseung turns around to pout at you from the front. “We would’ve thrown you a welcome party or something. We missed you.”

Hesitating, you shrink under his unblinking gazes. You hadn’t given it much thought, let alone considered that you’d be missed. “Uh, wanted it to be a surprise?”

“We all know you guys would’ve been annoying as fuck about it,” Jay chimes in, “If I were her, I wouldn’t have told you either.”

“The difference is that we wouldn’t miss you,” Sunghoon chucks another wrapper at Jay, snorting when this one ends up hitting him square on the head.

Despite the growing havoc, you find yourself grinning, laughing along when Jay sends a horribly misaimed empty paper cup flying back. You allow yourself to lean back into the seat and relax, just like you used to do before you left. It’s easy to forget how on edge you were feeling earlier when you’re surrounded by people you’d missed.

You’d left many things behind, but it seems like your fondness for your friends never stopped following you.

Jay brings the car to a stop in an empty parking lot bordering one of the several beachfronts in your town. You remember this particular one being further south, where the waves grew taller and where many smaller-scale competitions were held.

Wriggling out of the vehicle after Beomgyu, you make yourself useful by popping the trunk and retrieving the straw mat that you knew Jay kept around for such visits. It’s now tattered and bears several holes in it after being thoroughly used, but you can’t imagine sitting on the burning sand with nothing underneath you.

Heeseung skips over to help you, hauling a case of beer out from the trunk and balancing it precariously over his shoulder. It’s then that you conveniently take notice of what he’s wearing– a band shirt-turned-tanktop with very revealing armholes– and nearly choke on your spit. Pretending to be unbothered, you train your gaze on the tips of your shoes, trying to focus on the way your toes wriggle, but fail miserably. Heeseung looks too good.

“We get it, you started hitting the gym,” you tease, trying not to openly gape at the way his arms fill out his sleeves.

It seems you’ve made it a bit too obvious, because Heeseung practically preens under your attention, grinning cockily and flexing the bicep nearest you. “Yeah? Just wait till I get in the water. There’s more where that came from.”

The comment combined with the rolling humidity makes you feel like you’re about to pass out, so you sneak one last glance at Heeseung’s arms before scurrying away. You choose to set up camp under the shade of a leaning palm tree, somewhat close to the shore but far enough so that the crashing waves don’t dip into the sand nearby.

As soon as the mat’s down, you flop onto it, spreading your arms and legs like a starfish before someone else can take up the space. Despite your efforts, Beomgyu easily crams into the space next to you, humming a melody under his breath while he unpacks the snacks he’d brought. He offers you a bag of gummies, so you don’t bother complaining.

The rest of the boys join you soon after, hissing once the hot sand begins to burn at their soles.

“Fuck this, I’m going in to cool down,” Jay announces, halfway through tugging his shirt off. “Someone text Sunoo and tell him to bring his speaker. And that inflatable Spongebob ball we found the other day.”

As Jay bounces down the remaining distance to the ocean, you tuck your knees under your chin and watch as a flock of seagulls crosses over the melting sun on the horizon. Despite being later in the afternoon, the air still felt heavy and sticky like caramel, practically oozing down your skin in trickles of molten sweat. You try to fan yourself with your hands, but it’s no use when each new gust of air just felt like you were being submerged further and further into a pot of boiling water.

Sunghoon heaves down next to you and Beomgyu, cracking open one of the beer cans from the case. He takes three, four, five long gulps, sighing at the relief from the cold liquid. When he notices you staring, he holds the can out in a silent offering, but you shake your head and point toward his mouth, where some of the beer had trickled out in his haste to gulp it down.

“Aren’t the waves too small for surfing?” Beomgyu asks.

Looking back at him, you find that Beomgyu’s frowning in the direction of the ocean, where a figure is trying to balance on a board under the lip of a crashing wave. Though you yourself never quite took on a surfboard by yourself, you knew that there were certain tricks one could only perform with taller waves, ones which were certainly not found on this beach during this time of year.

It was typically beginners who practiced on such small peaks, but from observing the surfer for a while longer, you could easily deduce that this most certainly wasn’t a beginner. Though they were having trouble because of the lower crest, their maneuvers were carefully executed and dynamic enough to be on a professional level, and even as the wave dipped, they didn’t lose their balance.

“Sunoo!” Your attention’s pulled back by Heeseung’s excited bellow, and you turn to find another familiar face approaching your mat.

“Are you for real?” Sunoo’s question is directed at you, judging by the way his wide eyes meet yours, and you shuffle around so you can hold your arms out for him. He readily launches himself into your embrace, albeit a bit awkwardly because he has to lean down, but it’s warm and inviting nonetheless.

The five of you pack yourselves onto the mat as you wait out the sun to dip further down the horizon. Sunoo asks you about your life back in Melbourne, and you’re more than happy to answer. In turn, you ask him about his job, about that motorbike he’d always wanted, and about the last boy you remember him having a crush on. Judging by his reaction, not everything had gone according to plan.

It’s nice to just hang around like that, too– even as you can’t help but think about someone missing. By the time your stomach’s all twisted up, Heeseung and Sunoo eventually begin to whine about their muscles cramping and get up to go cool off in the water. You watch as they race to the shoreline, snorting when they both end up tripping because of a wave.

“Sounds like you missed us too,” Sunghoon muses, eyes resting carefully on the side of your face.

Your ears warm at the prospect of being watched so carefully, and you duck your chin to avoid letting Sunghoon notice.

“I’m going to take a dip too,” you decide, hauling yourself up and beginning to tug your outerwear off. Though you immediately feel some sort of relief, it’s short-lived and it only makes you feel more eager to jump into the ocean.

The sand is pleasantly warm under the soles of your feet as you jog toward the shoreline, keen yet careful not to snag your leg on a stray branch or rock. Sunoo and Heeseung have trudged further into the ocean, joining Jay who’s now sat atop one of the huge jutting rocks and sunbathing like a cat. They’re close enough that you can make out their scheming expressions as they approach him.

As the water meets your feet, you’re overcome with an inundating sense of peace. Though you’ve already spent a week back at home, you haven’t yet had the chance to come visit the ocean. Growing up so close to it, it had become inevitably tied with your youth, associated with everything you considered home. As much as you tried to forget about it, the riptide pulled you right back under.

Jay’s squawk of surprise as Sunoo and Heeseung haul him into the water startles you into looking back over at them. You bark out a laugh as you continue to watch their shenanigans, Jay resurfacing and promptly dragging both of the perpetrators under with him. They all yell in unison, cut off once they plummet under, followed by a stream of bubbles as they wrestle with each other.

Any thought of joining them is thrown out the window when you see one of their legs stick out from the water, only to flail around uselessly and be sucked right back under.

You dip further in until the water is lapping at your chest. It’s pleasantly cool against your sun-streaked skin, and as you run your palms through the undulating water, your body readily immerses itself until you’re bobbing pleasantly with each new wave. The noise of the ocean stuffs your ears like cotton, and you can’t help but think you never want to be so far from it again.

An unexpectedly forceful wave has you yelping and rushing to keep your head above the water. When you bring your palms back up, you notice with a sinking feeling that a few of your rings are missing, ones you were sure you came into the ocean with. Cursing yourself for your carelessness, you look around aimlessly, squinting against the sun and watching for any signs of them in the water.

A bright glare reflecting from a stroke’s distance away from you has you venturing deeper, toward a section of the water where you’re certain you see something floating.

You lunge forward, expecting to catch onto the next level of rocks with your feet, but instead, you’re met with cold gaps of water and nothingness. A surge of panic seizes you by the throat, and you have half a second to process that you’re falling before your head’s submerged and you’re entirely suspended in the ocean.

There’s something tugging at your body, relentless and forceful and even as you squint blearily through the water, you don’t see anything there.

You feel yourself go cold all over, and the shock of the situation renders you immobile for a split second. Your legs thrash about trying to locate the nearest surface to find purchase on, but you’re pulled back by another crescendoing wave, and you lose all semblance of direction before you can head for the surface. As the wave flips you, you’re sent hurdling even deeper, where the water grows colder and the noise from above is muffled beyond comprehension.

You feel your chest grow tighter and tighter by the second, a newfound fuzziness suffusing your head. Your lungs burn with the need to breathe in, but you can’t tell which way is up and down and you think you’re going to run out of breath and–

There’s a tight grip at your forearm, pulling you toward the surface with a searing strength. Your legs kick out from under you as you try your hardest to propel yourself along, until another hand joins the other to clasp onto your other arm. You break the surface of the ocean with a ragged gasp, groaning when you feel your torso hit something solid.

You realize you’ve been hauled onto a surfboard as it buoyantly sways atop an incoming wave. Inhaling deeply, you grip the sides of the board until your knuckles turn white, fearful of slipping back into the never-ending whirlwind of water. The roaring of the ocean fills your ears like static until you can’t discern it over the sound of your own coughing.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” there’s a familiar voice above you, but you’re too preoccupied with hacking up water and trying to breathe to look up.

Something brushes your forehead, and you feel your hair being pushed out of your face, allowing the setting sunlight to burn against your eyelids. You blink the world back into view, wincing when some of the salty water dips right back into your eyes. You find an achingly familiar face staring back at you amidst the noise in your ears, and for a split second, you think it’s your oxygen-deprived brain conjuring up hallucinations.

Jake blinks at you timidly when your gaze focuses on him. He looks alarmed, as if the sight of him is enough to send you rearing back into the water. But even in the hazy aftershock of your incident, you’re unable to feel anything but gratitude.

Slumping against the board, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths. The water around you sloshes as Jake maneuvers the two of you toward shore, taking extra precautions not to let any waves spill out against you. You hear shouting from the shore end, where you presume the rest of your friends have caught on to what’s happening.

As the board reaches the shallow end, you feel the same hands envelop your sides, this time bringing you into a secure hold against Jake’s firm skin. Your heart’s pounding in your ears and you’re too preoccupied with taking shallow breaths to focus on how warm Jake feels against you.

The next few minutes feel like a blur in the most literal sense. Your vision is still bleary and you have a hard time making out your friends faces as they cluster in around Jake and try to help him lay you down. There’s so much noise that you can’t discern any words in particular, everything jumbled together into a sequence of distant-sounding, unrecognizable utterances.

You groan as your back hits something soft and you become acutely aware of all the unwavering stares on you. You try to sit up but fail, clearing your throat and taking a few deep, staggering breaths.

“Fuck, I feel like shit,” you rasp. It makes a relieved bout of laughter ring out around you, and you smile despite the discomfort in your chest.

“We’ll give you some space,” Sunghoon says gently, patting your calf. The touch lingers as he draws away, and you follow his retreating figure with your unfocused gaze.

One by one, you watch as your friends pull back, reconvening further away so as not to overwhelm you with their conversations and bearings. But you feel a lingering presence remain by your head, and the curious urge in you beats out the embarrassment you think you should feel. Looking up, you find Jake already staring back.

“Is it hard for you to breathe? Do you feel like there’s still pressure in your lungs?” Jake’s eyes seek yours out anxiously, and you realize with a start that he’s genuinely worried.

“I’m okay,” you promise, “I think I just need to rest. I’m more in shock than anything else.”

Nodding, Jake exhales sharply, and you notice his shoulders deflate. He settles down on the mat, leaving a comfortable gap between the two of you. You watch as the material beneath him dampens from his swim trunks, eyes trailing along the exposed skin of his legs, now covered in smatterings of sand. You only look away when you spot a familiar mole on his upper thigh.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

You’re met with silence, heavy and unnerving. It’s the kind that makes you think you’ve said something wrong, something that needs to be taken back, forgotten. You nearly think Jake’s missed it until you hear quiet shuffling, then–

“S’okay, you just scared me a bit back there, that’s all,” he mumbles. You feel the warm weight of his gaze settling on your face again, but you think any last breath you have in you will be knocked out if you try to look back up at him. Looking at Jake has always been a bit like looking into the sun. “I still care about you a lot, despite what you might think. I was really worried.”

The sincerity in his words makes your chest churn painfully. Breathing in deeply, you reach out blindly with your hand along the mat, feeling the damp straw beneath your fingertips as you search for the familiar callouses you held onto earlier.

“I know,” you whisper, for a lack of better words. There’s something unsaid left hanging in the air, and you hope Jake can catch onto it before it disappears.

Jake’s fingers meet yours, and you hold your breath as they slip between the crevices of your own. You don’t dare to open your eyes, instead focusing on steadying your racing heart, on Jake and his gentle touch along your knuckles. His hold is grounding, but your mind still flutters at the prospects of what if, what if, what if.

☀

The momentum between you two shifts after that, but the nagging voice at the back of your mind stays.

Jake begins joining your group around town more and more often, usually for smaller increments of time between his practice sessions and work shifts. You come to learn that he now works as a trainer at the same academy he started training at, and that he coaches the under-12 group. He’s still busy as ever, but your friends make it a point that he’s always invited no matter when he’s able to join.

Jake takes these invites seriously; he drops by your hangouts nearly every time you’re there, a feat that isn’t hard for you to miss. He keeps a respectful distance but it doesn’t feel like he’s taken to ignoring you and ruling you out of his life completely. If anything, it’s the latter. You know the distance is more for your own sake than anything, and with each time you see him, it becomes increasingly harder for you to stay away.

Jake also begins visiting the shop more and more often, though never to buy anything substantial. He’ll usually do a quick round of the aisles before coming to hang out at the counter, where he’ll make (initially shy) conversation with you before purchasing a Clif Bar and leaving.

Admittedly, you enjoy the company more than you should, even if Jake’s presence is technically a hindrance to your professional work environment.

“Don’t you have a competition to be getting ready for?”

Jake’s eyebrows furrow, and he stops reading the ingredients label of the bar he’s holding to look up at you like you’re crazy. “I am. This is part of my new pre-practice ritual.”

“What, buying Clif Bars and showing me funny Tiktoks?” Your question’s meant to be amusing, but Jake nods at you, dead serious.

“I think I like the Crunchy Peanut Butter flavor the most,” he hums, handing over the bar so you can scan it. “Also, if I don’t have your socials, how am I supposed to show you all the red panda Tiktoks I’ve been seeing?”

The iPad dings softly as you go through the motions of finalizing his purchase. You feel Jake’s unfaltering gaze follow your hands, and you try not to let how flustered you feel show. “Is this you trying to be slick while asking for my number?”

“Maybe,” he grins. “Only if it’s okay, though.”

Jake slides a bill toward you, taking the bar and pocketing it in his shorts. No matter how confident he sounds, you’re able to tell he’s nervous by the way he wrings his hands behind his back.

Wordlessly, you pass your phone across the counter, trying not to look too pleased as Jake practically whoops and picks it up to type in his digits. When you get it back, you see that he’s written himself in as Jakey, followed by an emoji combination that you can’t make sense of. Something warm stirs in your gut.

☀

It’s your fourteenth birthday when you finally muster up the courage to let Jake teach you how to surf.

The word teach being used very loosely, but rather, just letting Jake mess around with you on his board. At that point, he had been in the academy for just over three years, enough to give both of you some kind of reassurance that he knew what he was doing. Jake had offered you lessons countless of times before then, eager to get you on the same board that had brought him so much joy, but you’d never had the guts to agree.

“This feels like attempted murder,” you whine from where you’re perched on his board, shrieking when a wave jostles you the tiniest bit.

Jake laughs at you, though not unkindly, and he expertly grabs onto your forearms and maneuvers you into a more secure position. He’s surprisingly gentle yet firm, and when he wades a bit deeper into the water, you find that you’re not as nervous as you thought you’d be. He instructs you on what to do when the next wave comes, promising you that he’ll be next to you in case anything happens.

He helps you ride out the first wave, making a show of clapping for you even though you did none of the work. The next few come and go very similarly, until you begin to get a hang of the general motions needed to keep you above the water. The reassurance of Jake’s hands on your skin is enough to have you soaring with your head in the clouds.

When a higher wave approaches, you tell Jake you’re confident in taking on it yourself. His eyebrows arch when he looks at you, but he steps away to let you handle it on your own. Your stomach swells in tandem with the wave and you scream bloody murder once you feel the board move, but you’re somehow able to stay above the water without any of his help.

“I did it! Did you see that? Jake, holy shit!” Your peals of joy are muffled suddenly when a wave slams into your side and your open mouth fills with briny water. Sputtering, you turn to see Jake fail miserably at hiding his amusement, doubling over from his laughter.

“Yah, it’s not funny! I could’ve died!” You scold him, but it only makes him laugh harder.

“It’s a little funny, you have to admit,” he says, and you really can’t disagree with him. “Besides, you’re doing really well. I’m happy you finally let me, even if it’s taken me months of convincing.”

“There’s a reason I don’t trust you,” you huff, but the words carry no animosity and you couldn’t mean them less. You trust Jake with your every fiber.

“I think this is your sign to join me in the academy,” Jake declares.

Frowning, you move to dismount the board and sink into the water next to him. “I can’t see myself enjoying it as much as you do, Jake.”

Jake hums, frowning. You can’t take looking at him upset, so you decide the best option is to climb up on his back and smother him in a tight hug. He complains when your arms come to encircle his shoulders and you cling onto him like gum, but his protests are weak and only motivate you to hug him harder.

“Can I be honest?” The vulnerable edge to Jake’s voice has you stiffening. “I’m scared we won’t be as close soon. I’ve got the academy and school, and I know you’ve got all those tutoring sessions after school too. What if we can’t hang out anymore? What if you start to think you’re too cool for me?”

Snorting, you can’t help but squeeze his shoulders tightly and lean even more of your weight on him. Jake doesn’t seem to mind one bit, hands warm where they’re holding your knees.

“If I thought I was too cool for you I wouldn’t be spending my birthday alone with you.”

“Not true, we had lunch with the rest of your friends earlier,” he mumbles, which earns him a chastising flick against his temple. “Ow, what! It’s facts!”

“Can you just accept the fact that I care about you?” You rest your chin atop his damp hair. “Maybe I even love you. Have you thought about that, Jake?”

When Jake doesn’t respond, you’re left to listen to the crashing of waves around you. You sit with the words in your head, and as anxious as you feel having said them out loud, you know you mean them. Jake’s been an inseparable part of your life for as long as your brain can conceptualize being alive, it’s inevitable that you’d grow to care and love him.

You didn’t know it then, but it was also inevitable the love that you felt would blossom into something much, much harder to ignore.

“I love you too,” Jake echoes, and it’s so quiet you nearly miss it.

Clambering off his back, you fall into the water with a splash.

“My last birthday wish is that you get me to that buoy over there.” Pointing in the distance, Jake follows your finger and squints at the bobbing yellow buoy. You’ve never been that far in, but you feel oddly brave in the wake of the setting sun.

“This is, like, your 5th birthday wish already,” he says without much conviction, already moving to pull the board in closer to you.

“I know,” you grin. “But you love me, so I doubt you care all that much.”

☀

The day of the state qualifiers falls on the first Saturday of January, a warm and humid day with a sky as blue as the ocean. You and Sunghoon close up the shop at noon to join your friends on the beach, where they’ve occupied the closest spectator area to the shore and are frantically applying sunscreen before the shade pulls back from their zone.

As expected, they’re all boasting varying shades of blue– Jake’s (mostly) self-proclaimed lucky color. The whole shtick started at one of his first competitions at the academy, where you and Sunghoon had happened to both be wearing blue when Jake won his first ever podium title. Jake had called you his lucky charms, fully knowing it was silly, yet neither of you ever dared to show up without the color afterwards.

You’re also donning your own bit of blue, a discreetly tucked handkerchief in one of your pockets, with which you mindlessly fiddle as you approach your friends. You’d thought it to be subtle enough, easy to blame on a mindless coincidence, but one raised brow from Sunghoon had confirmed otherwise.

Sunoo’s speaker borders on obnoxiously loud as it blasts Megan Thee Stallion’s Thot Shit, garnering concerned looks from the company of grandmothers that have taken up seats next to you. They seem to reconsider their choice of seating, but the quickly filling lot on the sand leaves them with few options to move. You and Sunghoon have to squeeze in next to Heeseung on the end to fit on the blanket, and end up sitting shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee.

You’re also close to the judging panel, a small shaded hut where a few people in white polos are shuffling around with papers, readying as the tournament draws to a start. Heeseung passes the bottle of sunscreen to you and you thank him with a smile, squeezing out a handful to begin lathering onto your exposed arms and legs. The sun overhead begins muscling through the canopy soon after and you’re forced to savor the last few moments of shady reprieve.

The first competitor is introduced over the speaker, and an immediate ripple of cheering rings through the audience. You clap good-naturedly but can’t deny your attention begins to stray the longer it takes for Jake to be called. He’s one of the last names, and as soon as the two familiar syllables of his name are announced, you perk up excitedly.

Jake and his signature baby blue board appear seconds later, followed by a tumult of deafening cheers from your section. It’s partly due to Sunoo’s incredible lung capacity, but it’s also no secret that your town has always shown up to support Jake in competitions. He’s been a favorite ever since he began winning the junior championships in high school, climbing his way up to the highest ranks along the Sunshine Coast and earning himself the title of your town’s pride.

The rest of the competitors are familiar to you in their own ways. You recall seeing a few of them at past events, where they’d gone against Jake and failed to strip him of his title, and the rest being fellow members of Jake’s surfing academy.

The panel of judges officiates the beginning of the tournament, and with a resounding whistle, the first surfer drops into the water and meets his first wave.

Though you’d been to your fair share of surfing competitions, you’d forgotten the infectious thrill that usually accompanied attending them. The thrum of excitement in the air has you leaning forward throughout the entirety of the first, second, and third heats, watching the surfers tackle waves with an effortlessness that leaves you astonished.

Jake’s able to pass through all of the heats with remarkably high scores, a feat that’s never failed to impress you. The waves he catches within the competition zone are simple enough to leave no room for mistakes, and yet complicated enough that the other competitors struggle in their maneuvers to impress the judges. He performs his usual routine, the one you’d watched him rehearse for years on end during practice sessions, and ends it off with a foam climb that sends a ripple of applause throughout the audience.

As his last twenty-minute set draws to an end, Jake paddles back toward the shoreline while the competitor prepares to jump in after him. He waves over at your section, grinning boyishly when Heeseung wolf-whistles and Sunoo makes a suggestive hand sign at him. Your eyes meet for the briefest moment right before Jake has to exit the water, but it’s all you’re able to think about while the rest of the competition drags on.

As expected, Jake takes a place among the top 3 competitors. He’s just a few points from first place, but it’s enough to qualify him for the next, higher level competition that’ll undoubtedly be more important to him.

As the customary ending ceremony concludes, your group waits for him off to the side, away from the huddle of audience members queuing to get a photo. They’re currently swarming the third place champ, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but there.

Jake appears not long after. He’s still shirtless, which is really awful but also really great for you, and he’s pushed his damp hair away from his face. You think you’re going to die when he gets close enough for you to make out that the necklace he’s wearing is a wooden star charm you gifted him when he first started surfing. You know he’s most likely forgotten who gave it to him in the first place, but the chance that he might possibly remember has you feeling feverish.

Sunoo jumps on Jake’s back as soon as he joins you all under the shade. Jake oofs, but readily supports Sunoo with his arms, who cheers cutely and grips onto him like a koala. You tell yourself that you really couldn’t care less if Jake’s biceps flex from the action.

“There’s our guy,” Jay hollers, ruffling Jake’s hair. He circles Jake like a vulture and tries to jump on Sunoo’s back, which sends all three of them screeching and barreling down into the sand. You can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed even as people look over, laughing heartily at the way they wriggle around and curse.

“I’m going to blacklist you from all of my competitions,” Jake threatens once he’s finally off the ground, scowling as he shakes the sand out of his hair.

“You did really good,” you blurt out. “That last Pipeline came out of nowhere, but you handled it well. Even the judges thought so.”

Jake knows this. He knows his routine better than you do, knows what happened out in the ocean better than you do. And yet he still smiles sweetly, thanks you, and tells you he’s really glad you came. You see the way his eyes flicker towards the bandana sticking out of your pocket, and try not to preen under his gaze when he all but flushes.

“You should all come to mine to celebrate, my mom’s going to be making barbecue later,” he offers. Much to your dismay, he tugs a shirt on and hauls the strap of his bag onto his shoulder.

“Auntie Sim we fucking love you,” Sunoo mumbles.

It’s a unanimous decision, and you couldn’t be happier cramped into the back of Jake’s car.

☀

Aside from your friends, the only thing you’ll admit to missing from your hometown would be Auntie Lee’s Double Cheeseburger and Milkshake Combo™. It was what you ate to celebrate your high school graduation, what you ate with Jake to console him after one of his many breakups, and the last thing you ate before you thought you’d be leaving for good.

But despite Melbourne’s more than abundant choices of fast food, all of the restaurants you’d tried out had only left you missing Auntie Lee more. You blamed some of it on nostalgia, but really, when it came down to your very professional opinion, she just made a really good burger and milkshake.

So, when Heeseung proposes you all hang out again soon, you’re quick to suggest her diner as the meeting spot.

Thankfully, not much has changed there either. Auntie Lee’s hair is now a burgundy red, a shade you think suits her better than her past ginger tint, and she greets you at the register with the same crooked smile you’ve come to associate with her good food. Her apron still has an array of colorful pins she’d collected over the years and a stubborn grease stain right below the neckline that makes you feel oddly reminiscent.

The six of you squeeze into one of the booths by the window, the same one you used to crowd into as high schoolers after late-night study sessions. The formation in which you choose to sit in is strikingly similar as well, and when you run your fingertips along the underside of the table on your side, you’re able to quickly locate a carving that you’d done haphazardly in your senior year.

“Holy shit, our initials are still here,” you say, and Sunghoon reaches under the table to check as well.

As Auntie Lee brings your orders in record time, you sit back against the booth and survey the rest of the table. If you dig far back enough in your camera roll, you’re certain you have an exact shot of a moment just like this captured.

“Inflation somehow never hit this place.” Jay’s looking at the food like a predator, and you try not to giggle. You hear Sunghoon mumble a prompt amen from next to you and you look down at your own food with an increasingly salivating mouth.

“Cheers to us and to the economy,” Heeseung raises his milkshake, and the rest of the table is quick to follow suit. As you laugh and clink your glasses together, you catch Jake’s eyes peering at you from across the booth, but he’s quick to look away when you notice.

As you dig into your burger, you try not to think about the lingering feeling of his eyes on you. Jake’s always had a sort of maddening effect on you– once the thought of him circulated in your mind, getting rid of him was like tugging gum off of hot asphalt.

“My shift earlier was ass but this is enough to fix me,” Heeseung mumbles through his mouthful of burger, wiping at his sauce-stained mouth with a napkin.

“Do you still work at that cafe by the bike rental place?” You ask.

Heeseung furrows his brows and shakes his head adamantly, swallowing his bite before responding. “I left a while ago. I work at that one hotel by the beach now. The one with the funny misspelled sign outside.”

Humming in acknowledgement, you swallow the bite in your mouth and frown. “Huh.”

“I feel like I don’t know anything about you anymore. And I feel like you don’t know anything about us anymore, either,” Jay admits with a pout. His words make your stomach turn uneasily, and you put down your burger with guilty fingers.

“Yeah,” Sunoo hums in agreement, “what’s been going on with you? You told us you were leaving to study in Melbourne, but that’s pretty much all I know. You never post on Instagram either.”

It’s true– when you were first planning on leaving, you had no intention of forgetting everything behind. You didn’t have time for goodbyes, and as shitty as it was, the thought of keeping in close touch with your friends scared you. You worried that what had happened between you and Jake would alter all of your friendships forever, and that they no longer saw you in the same way.

Clearing your throat, you try not to let your voice waver under the weight of their attention. “I do study in Melbourne, I pretty much live there full-time now. Have an apartment and everything,” you pause when Sunoo cheers brightly, and you flush at his enthusiasm before continuing. “That’s pretty much it, though. I was going to work in the city this summer, but I’m honestly kind of glad Sunghoon called. Didn’t realize how much I missed this place.”

Everyone awes, and from beside you, Sunghoon squeezes your shoulder gently.

“Do you live with anyone?” Sunoo asks slyly, popping another fry into his mouth. He props his chin up on his hand, feigning indifference, but you know him well enough to tell when he’s trying to be foxy. “Roommates? Friends? …A special someone?”

Waving him off, you laugh at how his lips quirk up inquisitively. “No, it’s a small space so I’m glad it’s just me. And if you’re trying to ask if I’ve got a boyfriend or girlfriend, you’re not being slick at all.”

The rest of the table laughs with you, but you don’t miss Sunoo’s whine of protest.

Jay crosses his arms, cocking his head. His stare makes you put down your fry. “So? Do you?”

“I expected this from Sunoo but not from you, Jay,” you huff. “Fuck, you’re all nosy as shit, you know that?”

When everyone continues to stare back expectantly, you pout and look down in defeat, “But yes, for the record, I’m single.”

“Jake’s studying in Brisbane now,” Heeseung says out of nowhere, and you look up to see the boy in question choke on his milkshake out of surprise. “He commutes, like, every day. As much as it’s crazy, I respect the grind. He’s always been smart as shit.”

The rest of the table hums in agreement, but you feel Sunghoon stiffen up next to you.

Jake clears his throat and rubs his neck sheepishly, clearly a bit startled by the sudden attention. Not for the first time that afternoon, he looks up at you tentatively, almost like making eye contact with you will sting him. “Um, yeah. I’m studying engineering. Architectural engineering, if we’re being technical. I applied and got in last year.”

“That’s really nice,” you say earnestly. Your throat feels all dry but you’re eager to hear more, almost desperate to grasp at everything you’ve missed in his life since you’d left. “Sounds hard, won’t lie, but you’re smart like that. I’m happy for you.”

Nodding, Jake’s lips twitch, almost like he’s trying to suppress his grin. The edges of his eyes crinkle as he tips his head forward in a show of gratitude. “Thank you.”

You’re not quite sure if you should continue the conversation or leave it where it is, so you reach for your milkshake, awkwardly tucking the straw between your lips to give yourself something to do. As you sip up the last of the liquid, your slurping screeches around the table and you wince.

“Fuck, it’s worse than I thought,” Heeseung groans loudly. His fork clatters in his plate where he drops it, the clang resounding around the empty diner dramatically.

“You two need to fix this, like, now,” Jay agrees, rubbing his temples. “The sexual tension is throwing me off. Do you get how bad that is?”

Frowning, you let go of your straw to stare at them in dismay, and, quite frankly, embarrassment. You’re sure your ears and neck are telling shades of red, based on how warm you feel all over, and you’re sure everyone can see. You knew you couldn’t avoid this for much longer, but the bandaid being ripped off didn’t hurt any less.

“You’re making her uncomfortable,” Jake speaks up. He’s looking at you concerned, but you can’t bear to meet his eyes for longer than a second.

“It’s okay, I know they’re joking,” you say meekly, frustrated with how upset you sound. You’re not, no matter how much you wish you were anywhere but here.

The blanket of silence that swathes the whole table weighs on you like stones. You stare at your empty cup stubbornly, refusing to look up at the pairs of eyes that are watching you intently, some with pity, some with guilt. You feel like a caged animal, backed into a corner and left with nowhere to run.

“I’m going to get some fresh air,” you announce. Still looking down, you get up abruptly and wade out from the booth, murmuring apologies under your breath as you knock into Sunghoon’s feet.

The night air is stuffy and briny as you breathe in mouthfuls of it. The headlights of a passing car blind you momentarily as you lean against the wooden railing of the restaurant’s porch, making you blink disorientedly. A group of teenagers noisily clamber in past you, and you ignore the looks that get thrown your way.

Jake steps outside soon after. Some part of you knew he would come after you, and it preens selfishly when he spots you and all but jogs to you.

“Hey,” he says awkwardly. There’s some scuffling against the porch floor before he comes to join you against the railing. A beat of stillness passes, then– “I’m really sorry.”

You snort. “Not your fault. Nothing to be sorry about.”

Jake regards you silently, the intensity of his gaze burning into your slumped shoulders. He always looks at you like he can see right through you, right through all of your skin and flesh and ugly secrets. It's unnerving thinking about just how much he knows.

“No, I–”

“Jake,” you cut him off, voice falling just short of desperate. Your knuckles begin to turn white where your hands curl against the porch. “I don’t want you to apologize. What happened between us isn’t something to be sorry about. It happened, and that’s that. Just wish you and everyone else wouldn’t be so stubborn about bringing it up all the time.”

The silence that follows rings in your ears and settles uncomfortably in your gut. You hesitate before speaking again, wanting to gauge Jake’s reaction, but you’re afraid he’ll leave if you don’t hurry.

“I just want to start over. Clean slate,” you mumble.

Jake remains quiet for what feels like an eternity. Your stomach twists anxiously, tossing and turning when his ruminating gaze shifts up from your shoulders and onto your face

“Is that what you want?” Jake’s voice is feeble and it washes over you like a breeze.

Breathing in sharply, you nod.

“Okay,” he says simply.

Then, in an act so unexpected it throws you off guard for a good few seconds, he thrusts a hand between both of your bodies, grinning impishly. “I’m Jake. Nice to meet ya. You come here often?”

The laugh that bursts from you is so raw and genuine and it makes your chest flutter. You take his hand and mutter your name between giggles, ignoring how the warmth encasing your palm is achingly familiar. "Fuck, you’re actually unbelievable. And no, first time in town actually.”

“Really,” Jake plays along easily, smirking when he leans against the railing next to you. “You wouldn’t reckon you need someone to show you around, would you?”

The implications of the offer are clear as day, and you visibly hesitate in your response. Jake’s features soften the slightest bit, like he’s afraid he’s crossed a boundary, and you hate the way your heart swells at this.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you say cheekily.

☀

You and Jake have always had somewhat of a normal relationship.

You first met him in primary school, when he was still shorter than you and had a gap in his teeth when he smiled. Having recently moved into town, he was placed in the same homeroom as you, and, by the will something much greater than the both of you, into the empty chair next to you.

It was hard to ignore him for more reasons than the fact that he was sitting just two feet away from you. Jake was full of personality, as you’d come to learn, and as charismatic as a boy could be at the tender age of 7. He was funny, knew a bit too much about whales and turtles, and was nice enough to share his lunch with you on the days you’d forgotten yours.

It was inevitable that he’d become your friend– you’d walk home together, play at the park together, and dig around in the dirt for worms occasionally– and you never thought it would get any more complicated than that. Until you entered secondary school.

Jake followed you into one of the three secondary schools in your town, and it’s where the two of you would come to meet Sunghoon. Although you two were no longer in the same homeroom, you still made efforts to spend the majority of your free time together, now joined by a third. Sunghoon seamlessly became interwoven into your life just like Jake had, and you couldn’t think about a future without either of them.

At the end of your first year in secondary school, Jake started surfing lessons and got his first girlfriend at the academy.

It was weird for you and Sunghoon, now one person less as you gathered at your usual spots at the park, your backyard, and the parking lot behind Auntie Lee’s diner. Sunghoon reasoned that nothing much had changed, but you both knew that wasn’t true. There was a Jake-shaped void that was impossible to ignore, much less fill, as he became more and more enthralled with the sport and his new girlfriend.

You’d never really met Haeun properly, despite how entangled you both were in Jake’s life. You had no reason to believe she wasn’t nice– Jake seemed more than happy every time he talked about her and boasted the widest grin you’d seen on him every time they texted. She was among the top in her age group at the surfing academy, had pretty hair, and even followed you back on Instagram. You really had no reason to believe anything bad.

And yet, you couldn’t help it. There was some deep, ugly feeling within you that you couldn’t get rid of for as long as she was involved with him. Looking back, it didn’t bother you as much as it probably should’ve. When you’d divulged your feelings to Sunghoon, he’d also brushed it off as innate jealousy. Your best friend was spending more time away from you, who wouldn’t be a little bit frustrated?

But from there, everything went downhill. Jake and Haeun broke up by the time summer ended, much to your relief, but it was far from the last girl that Jake got involved with. As the three of you worked your way up toward graduating, Jake grew further into his features and learned to embrace his hobbies with more and more groups of people. It was inevitable that Jake would earn himself a place among your school’s most well-known, and consequently, draw even more attention to himself, both from guys and girls.

Despite all of that, he continued to be someone you and Sunghoon could lean on. He had rigorous practice sessions that took up most of his week but made an effort to visit both of you after school to study and get food. Any time you felt like he was drifting away, he’d reel himself back in and attach himself to your side like gum. Which only made the suffocating feeling in you grow stronger.

It wasn’t until year 12 prom that you realized what was wrong with you.

While Jake had a date from another class, you and Sunghoon decided to show up to the event together, if only to take advantage of the free food and drinks your school was offering. The whole night, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jake from across the dance hall, anxiously watching the way he’d spin his date, the way he’d smile, laugh, and look at her like she’d personally hung the stars up in the sky.

As selfish as it was, you imagined yourself in her spot. And in retrospect, it really couldn’t have been more obvious.

“Are you not having fun?” Sunghoon had asked, hands slipping from where they were holding you by the waist.

When you’d turned back to look at him, the crestfallen expression on his face made you flinch. He looked like a kicked puppy, and it stung more to know you’d been the one kicking this whole time. “I’m sorry, I got distracted.”

“Really?” He’d scoffed, this time fully letting go of you. There was a vulnerable look in his eye as he stepped back, face dipping into the shadows of the dancing lights. “What’s the point of agreeing to go with me if you’re just going to stare at him like that the whole time?”

Everyone had gotten a bit weird around this time, but it wasn’t hard for you to tell what was going on. Sunghoon had never been really good at hiding his own feelings; you knew the cafe study dates were beginning to turn into more than just study dates for him. You’d noticed the lingering touches, the meaningful glances, the fond way he’d call your name. Somewhere along the way, Sunghoon had gotten caught up in you.

In hindsight, it was selfish of you to forgo addressing it. It was selfish to ignore it, stash it away at the back of your mind and hope he’d one day find his way out. But the paralyzing fear kept you so eagerly and cruelly reciprocative, so willing to play along. You already felt like you’d lost Jake, you couldn’t afford to lose Sunghoon too.

“Hoonie, I’m sorry, you know I–”

“I know,” he’d said, lips twisting into a pained smile. His eyes drifted over somewhere behind you, where you knew Jake was dancing with his date, and he shook his head. “And yet some stupid part of me hoped you’d finally get over him.”

In all your infinite luck, it seems like you never fully could.

☀

Slowly and heedlessly, Jake intertwines himself in the fibers of your life once again.

He’s the first face you see in the mornings at the shop. His laugh reverberates in your ears long after you two part ways for the day, his brief, fleeting touches linger along your skin like those of a receding wave’s. His contact name is the last thing you see at night, and he’s all you think about until you slip away to unconsciousness.

You’re so full of him you’re drowning– he’s everywhere around you and you think there’s really no escaping him this time.

“When does your shift end?” Jake pushes yet another Clif Bar across the register’s counter toward you.

The clock behind you chimes softly in response. You squint up at the rusted arrows and turn to Jake inquisitively. “In 10 minutes. Why?”

“Cool,” Jake rips open the wrapper and takes a bite from the bar. Chewing, he grins at you slyly. “You wanna come by mine after?” The proposition sounds more like a question than anything, but Jake knows you’ll say yes.

Jake’s car is a shacky little thing his family gifted him for this 18th. It’s the same as you remember it, with a mess of stickers haphazardly stuck along the dashboard and a row of stuffed animals along the back window that his cousins had left behind. The passenger seat still squeaks when you try to adjust it, and you both laugh when you end up sitting down and the cushion whines from under you.

Jake drives you through a route you know too well. He rolls the windows down (as far as the car allows them) and points at renovated buildings and new lots alike, narrating everything you’d missed while away. You lean against the door and let the breeze wash over your face, fiddling with the bag in your lap.

You’re there but you’re also not– Jake’s voice serves as an anchor while your mind wanders off just far enough not to worry him. These are all places you’ve been with him, and with each passing place, you have to blink away vivid memories that flash before your eyes in technicolor film.

You and Jake celebrating your middle school graduation at the rundown arcade that’s now been modernized. You and Jake troubling over what to gift Sunghoon at the comic book store that’s now shut down forever. You and Jake chasing his dog at the park that now finally has a special fenced off section just for dogs. You and Jake–

“This is the park where you lost one of your baby teeth from falling off a swing. You started crying and I had to take you home on my bike.”

“You remember that?” You blink at him incredulously, face growing hot.

“Of course I do,” Jake says matter-of-factly. “It’s hard to forget when the tooth’s still in my room.”

“What?!” Your bag slips off your lap when you sit up straight, bewildered and embarrassed. “No way, your mom wrapped it up and I took it home with me.”

Jake brings the car to a steady stop by the curb in front of his house. He reaches over across you to help you roll your window back up, and you try not to squirm under his amused gaze. “I’ll just show you then.”

Layla greets both of you at the threshold of the door, yelping once she lays eyes on you. You have a solid second to brace yourself before she leaps forward, propping both of her front paws against your thighs and wagging her tail so fast you worry she’ll start floating. Nearly losing your balance, you squeak in surprise, but are quick to reach out and pet her. 

You coo at her like she’s your own baby and in a way, she certainly is.

She’s soft and warm, cuddly as she headbutts your palms and licks at your fingers. “I missed you so much, cutie.”

“She missed you too,” Jake says, and you look up right as the camera shutter on his phone goes off. Squawking, you cover your face, albeit too late, because Jake giggles at his screen and you hear him mumble a quiet cute.

Jake’s room looks smaller than you remember it being. You think it’s because the small twin he used to have has been replaced by a modest queen, but you’re also no longer fresh out of high school and naive. There are sun-bleached spots in places where his old posters are, the walls now sparsely lined with polaroids and printed film photos.

Your feet subconsciously bring you closer to the walls. You squint at each of the photos, the people in some of them unrecognizable to you. There’s one from the day of your graduation, but it’s just Jake with his mom, along with a bouquet large enough to take up a third of the frame. There are a few of Layla in a wide range of settings, including one that you’re certain was taken while you were at the park together. There’s even one of the sunrise at the beach on a morning with calm waters and no people in sight.

Most notably, there are none of you up there. You reason that it wouldn’t make any sense for there to be in the first place, given everything that had happened, but some pathetic part of you wishes that Jake still held onto you the same way you did to him.

“Here,” Jake says, snapping your attention back to him. He’s unearthed a plain blue box from the depths of his closet, and he’s pushing it towards you with a lopsided smile.

You abandon the photographs and plop yourself down on the carpet. Peeling back the lid of the box, you peek inside and try to ignore the way your breath quickens when Jake situates himself right next to you. Your knees brush together as your fingers slowly sift through the contents, your mind barely registering what you’re looking at in the box.

A bunch of movie tickets from screenings you’d seen years ago. A birthday card you’d painted for him in middle school. An old Pikachu figurine you’d won for him at the fair. A postcard you’d mailed him from a school trip to Sydney. A magazine cutout from when you’d sat down to do vision boards together. A polaroid of you and Jake at the beach, posing with a hyperactive Layla who’d come out blurry on the film. A tiny plastic box with your baby tooth in it.

Your mind is racing so fast you feel the world around you halt still. Your shaky fingers pick up the box, peeling back the napkin that it’s wrapped up in.

“You– Why’d you keep all of this?”

Jake blinks at you like it’s a ridiculous question. “What, am I supposed to get rid of everything that reminds me of you? This box doesn’t have even a fraction of all that, anyway.”

It’s hard for you to wrap your mind around the thought, but Jake’s been holding onto you far longer than you could’ve hoped for.

“Can I tell you something?” Jake asks.

“You already did,” you joke, crumpling up the napkin under your hands and chucking it at him.

Jake catches it effortlessly and grins at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I know you said you wanted to forget everything from before, but I feel as if I owe you an explanation. If not you, then for my own sake. It keeps me up sometimes, ya know?”

Your breath begins to thin out, but you nod anyway. You’ve known this conversation was inevitable, no matter how much you pushed it off. You couldn’t go back to Melbourne without letting Jake rip off the same bandaid for which he was responsible.

Jake’s eyes are soft as they meet your own, his hands gentle as they seek yours out to cradle them. “I could never be upset at you for prioritizing your own future back then, and I hope you don’t carry any of that burden with you. It was me who was unsure of what was happening in my life, what I wanted to do after high school. And it was wrong of me to try and tie you down with me here.

“If anything, you were the only direction I had in my life. And I was so, so scared I’d lose you to something else. Something better. But when I look back on how selfish I was, how desperate I was to keep you around, I can’t help but feel so guilty. Because I should’ve seen how unhappy you were here, and being with me couldn’t change that.”

Jake’s voice is so fragile you could smash it into a million pieces like fine china. Your eyes blink once, twice, and then your cheeks feel all damp and you can’t hold it in anymore. Jake thumbs at the tears that skid down your skin, and you try to swallow down your erratic hiccups, but even through your sobs, you can feel yourself laughing. Despite your tears, you’re happy.

“I don’t think I was ever unhappy,” you admit. “I was just scared. Scared of getting stuck here like everyone else. Scared I’d never accomplish anything and that I’d waste away the most important years of my life. I was so scared I forgot to think about everything that was worth staying for here. Like you.”

Pulling the box into your lap, you look down at its contents with a teary smile. Though you feel shaken up, there’s an underlying cathartic release to it all– this is the closure that you left without, the closure you thought you were never going to get.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking my tooth home with me,” you tease, pocketing the packaged tooth in your shorts. Looking up, you push the box into Jake’s hands. “You can keep the rest.”

Jake regards you silently, but the look on his face is so soft it makes your ears feel all hot. He nods, looking down into the contents of the box with a smile wide enough to make the edges of his eyes crease up. “I don’t mind,” he muses, “I really did keep a lot of things, huh?”

“It’s cute though!” You’re quick to reassure, and Jake’s answering laughter sounds like fizzy soda pop.

The two of you lounge around on the floor of his bedroom until it’s too hot to even lay around. As Layla enters the room and pounces on you, Jake sits up to look at you while you scratch behind her ears and mumble nonsense to her. “You wanna go in the pool?”

“I didn’t bring my bathers though,” you frown between coos.

“Oh my God,” Jake groans, getting up from the floor and pacing over to his drawers. “You’ve even started speaking like a Melburnian. They’re togs, excuse you, and I can lend you some shorts or something.”

The shorts and shirt he passes you have random cartoons on them and are thankfully dark enough to not go transparent in the water. You clamber up from your spot on the floor and wince as you stretch.

“I’ll change in here,” you tell him. When Jake remains standing in the room with a blank expression, you point towards the door and tell him to shoo.

“Got it chief,” Jake salutes you jokingly, “Layla, let’s go girl.”

“Layla can stay,” you interrupt him, whistling to call her back over. Layla obediently follows, planting herself by your feet and barking at Jake, who remains frozen in the doorway.

“This feels really mean,” he pouts at you, grabbing the door knob to shut the door after him. But even after he closes the door, you can hear his voice in the hallway. “Last one in the pool is a loser!”

Huffing, you look down at Layla and giggle when she nudges your foot as if to say hurry up.

☀

There’s a lightness to your breaths that you swear came after that day at Jake’s. You think it’s silly to attribute it to a mere conversation, but in retrospect, any weight you’d carried before was because of an absence of any such conversation.

You feel good, oddly much so that it’s almost weird. You feel as if the universe had absolved you of all the pain and guilt you had tied to this place, and all you were left with was the fondness and euphoria of finally being back.

Until shit begins hitting the fan soon after.

On an unusually gloomy day for the summer, you and Sunghoon find yourselves on the steps in front of the shop, taking advantage of the opportunity to be outside without experiencing heat stroke symptoms. The concrete is still warm under your legs, enough so that Sunghoon offers up his shirt for you to sit on at one point, but it’s a welcome change from the unpleasant temperatures you’d seen thus far.

It’s Sunghoon’s part of the shift currently, but the store’s been eerily empty for the first half of the day, so you two have taken it upon yourselves to take a well-deserved break. Perks of being your own bosses, and you’re sure your aunt would approve. You’d hardly broken a sweat, and who are you to turn down Sunghoon’s offer of ice cream and a soda?

Besides, listening to Sunghoon fervidly talk about the new tv show he’s started watching while you chow down your cone is a treat of its own. You take the chance to rant about the last weird TikTok you saw while Sunghoon finishes off his own ice cream before it melts.

There’s a natural lull in your conversation at which point you decide to check your phone. Jake’s name is atop most of the notifications on your screen, and you’re not quite sure what to reply to first. Your fingers fidget on the device and you bite your bottom lip, holding back a grin when you finally click on your messages and see a picture of Layla with a hat too big for her head.

“What’re you smiling so much at?” Sunghoon’s voice is teasing, and you have half a second to process his question before he’s cramming into your side and peeking at your phone with prying eyes.

“Hey!” You scold, but it’s too late, because he’s seen the contact name atop, and you can’t think of a lie fast enough before his next question comes.

“You’re texting Jake?” The teasing smirk on his lips melts with the accusatory tone in his voice, and you wince as you lock your screen and hide your phone.

“Why do you sound like that? You’re acting like you’ve just walked in on me trying to hide a body or something!”

Sunghoon’s lips purse and he eyes your side, where you’ve tucked your phone away. “Don’t be ridiculous, this is basically the equivalent.”

“Ridiculous?” You scoff. Something in your throat settles uneasily, and you try not to sound too hurt when you speak again. “I’m just talking to him, Hoon. What are you on about?”

“Really? You’re giving him a second chance after everything he’s done?” Sunghoon fixes you with a dismayed stare, brows furrowed and fists clenched where they rest in his lap. “Do I have to remind you that you left in the first place because of him?”

The lump in your throat grows and you feel like you’ll throw up. Looking away, you blink up at the cloudy sky and try to focus on evening out your breathing. Fights with Sunghoon have never been easy, but fights with Sunghoon about Jake, though rare, always left you numb for days on end.

“I’m not giving him a second chance. We’re friends, testing the waters again, that’s all,” you say meekly. “And I didn’t leave because of him, I was going to study in Melbourne anyway. Stop giving him so much credit.”

Sunghoon’s silence feels like an eternity. You hear him shift next to you, then, out of the corner of your eye, you watch as he stands up. His stare burns into your scalp like the scalding sun. “Even you don’t believe yourself.”

Sunghoon’s eyes are glossy and tender from where you can see them, and it dawns on you that he’s close to crying. His teeth are digging into his bottom lip and his eyebrows are set and furrowed, but you can tell that he’s upset and failing at hiding it.

“It may not seem like it, but it hurt all of us when you stopped keeping in touch after you left,” he continues, wiping at his eyes with his hand. “It sucked a lot. We all thought we lost a good friend forever.”

“Sunghoon,” you call, voice breaking off at the end. You reach out to grab him by the wrist, looking up with wide, apologetic eyes. “Sunghoon, I’m sorry. I’ve always–”

“Had a thing for Jake? Yeah, I know,” he dismisses, smiling shakily. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know. And you know I’ve always had a thing for you. But I didn’t let that get in the way ”

“Because it’s not fair to either of us.” You can feel your throat begin to tighten in the same way it does when you’re about to sob, can feel your eyes sting and your heart falter painfully.

Abruptly standing up from the curb, you ignore the way your skin burns from the heated concrete and reach out to envelop Sunghoon into a tight hug. His arms remain limp at his sides for a brief second, until he hears you sniffle and immediately reciprocates the embrace. You close your eyes and inhale deeply, coaxing Sunghoon into rocking back and forth with you.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you so much and I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

Nodding against his shoulder, you pull back to look at him. The rims of his eyes are red and his face is slightly puffy, but you realize he’s no different than the boy you’ve always held so dear to your heart. No matter the distance you’ve spent apart, the disagreements you’ve struggled over, the spats and rocky paths. He’s still your Sunghoon.

“I love you too, Hoonie.” Wiping at one of the tear streaks on his cheekbone, you gently cup his cheek and ignore the way your heart falters when he leans into your touch. “Even if it’s not in the way I wish I could, I still love you so much."

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything for a minute, instead resigning to just closing his eyes and melting against your hand. You hold still all the while, humming softly under your breath until he feels ready to move off.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Sunghoon decides. He wipes at the remaining tears on his face, and moves to hold the door to the shop open, gesturing you inside. “I’ve got cookie dough Ben and Jerry’s in the freezer that I need your help finishing. And no, you cannot get out of this.”

Snorting, you step inside and look over your shoulder to tease, “If you seriously think I’d pass on Ben and Jerry’s, we should re-evaluate this friendship.”

Sunghoon laughs, a full-bellied one where you can see the endearingly sharp edges of his teeth and his Adam's apple bob, and closes the door behind him. He doesn’t say anything to that, silently wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he leads you up the stairs. When you look over, he’s still smiling. You think you’ll be okay.

☀

Rolling down the window, you thrust your arm out into the humid evening air and relish in the gust of wind that meets your palm. From your position on the hill, you can see the entirety of the shoreline in all of its tranquil glory, devoid of any visitors and undisturbed in the wake of the sunset.

You think that this is where you’re meant to be– in a quiet world, next to Jake, with every trivial worry left behind.

Jake parks the car underneath the jagged shade of a pandanus tree and races over to the other side to open your door, almost tripping in his haste. Laughing, you step out and help him unload his board from where it’s tied to the roof of the car.

The two of you have routinely begun choosing the same spot on the beach. It’s close enough to the water so that you can reach it without the sand burning your feet, but far enough so that the crashing waves don’t end up touching you. You know it’s the same spot because it’s next to a mosaic made of seashells that has yet to be destroyed.

Jake thinks the mosaic resembles a cityscape, but you think it looks like a blooming rose.

Sometimes, Jake swims around on his board and practices old moves while you watch him keenly. Sometimes, you read an old book or doze off while Jake does laps around the shore. Sometimes, he even invites you into the water with him, and sometimes, you say yes. You mutually bask in the presence of the ocean and each other, and it’s all you really need.

“God, it’s so humid today,” you complain, huffing as you drop your bag onto the sand. Jake hums in agreement and straightens out the blanket so that you can sit down.

“It won’t be getting much worse after this. Summer’s almost over anyway,” Jake says mindlessly, tugging at his own bag and rummaging through it with a pout.

Right. It was at the forefront of your mind until it suddenly wasn’t– leaving again.

The prospect of having to return to a life without Jake and Sunghoon and everyone else you loved here was proving difficult for you to conceptualize. The return ticket sitting in your wallet was long forgotten, tucked away in a pocket and left untouched until now. Your fingers itch to reach for it in your bag, to rip it to shreds and dig it under the sand and forget about it for good.

A nudge on your shoulder snaps you back to the present, and you find Jake holding out a Melona bar in a silent offering. You take it with a wide grin and rip open the plastic without hesitation. You haven’t had these popsicles in a while, probably since the last time Jake bought you one.

“You wanna tell me what you’re thinking about?”

Popping your mouth off of the bar, you lick your lips and crane your neck to look at Jake. He’s in the process of opening his own popsicle, but he’s watching you carefully, almost timidly.

“A bunch of silly shit,” you admit. “Like how I don’t want to go back to Melbourne all that much anymore.”

Jake’s eyes dip across your face, like he’s searching for indications that you’re lying. You think they pause on your lips for the slightest second longer, but then he’s looking away altogether and you don’t know if you can trust yourself.

“I don’t want you to go back to Melbourne either,” he laughs, voice breaking off toward the end. He’s nervous.

“Clingy much?” Your joke’s meant to ease the ache in your chest but it only makes it worse. “It’s fine, you have my number and socials. You can bother me there.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now. You’ve still got a few weeks anyway, why focus on leaving when we could be making the most of this time?” And Jake’s right. Last you were here, you hadn’t known you wouldn’t be back for a while. You never got a proper goodbye with many people or places. But now you knew, and there was no use mourning the inevitable.

You knew you would be back eventually.

You and Jake finish off your Melona bars and shed your outerwear so you can wade into the water. As your fingertips graze the water by your hips, you close your eyes and wiggle your toes against the sandy floor. You hear Jake dive into the water nearby, followed by a split second of calm before something brushes along your calf and you can’t hold in your terrified shriek.

Looking down, you find Jake peering up at you through the water, his wide grin visible even under the buoyant ripples. He resurfaces with a big splash in front of you, sticking his tongue out at you childishly while you wipe the water from your face. You feel your jaw drop incredulously, and you have half a mind to retaliate and give him a taste of his own medicine.

Jake seems to read your mind, however, because he makes a dash for the shore before you can move to splash him back.

The sand dips beneath the soles of your feet as you chase after Jake, sending water droplets scattering up around you in frantic arcs. You think he’s running toward one of the inlets, the one where there’s a loose rock formation that allows you to venture further into the ocean. He stops where the sand bleeds into dark, jagged rocks, leaving you to catch up to him in seconds.

You barrel into his back and giggle as he turns around to hug you to his chest, shrieking when he lifts you up and your feet kick around aimlessly in the air. Your heart flutters in your throat as you look down to see Jake grinning up at you, eyes crinkled up endearingly and mouth opened around a boisterous laugh. His hands are warm where they’re holding your waist tight, fingers splayed out against your skin.

Jake sets you back down, chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath he takes. Your skin feels impossibly warm even after he’s let you go, and you find yourself unable to look away from him. Against the backdrop of the sun, he looks like an angel.

Wordlessly, he holds out his cupped hand to yours, and you reach out to accept with wide eyes. When he pulls back, you see that he’s left two seashells in the dips of your palms, small and round in shape. The bigger of them is tawny and has a dipping crevice in the middle, while the other is a pristine white with several ridges along its arch. They’re beautiful.

“Do you still collect these?” Jake’s question makes the butterflies in your chest stir.

“I do,” you murmur, feeling oddly bashful that he remembers. “The box is under my bed in Melbourne.”

The same wooden box he’d gifted you for your 16th birthday once you told him you kept all the shells he’d been giving you.

The two of you abandon your blanket and sit on the patch of damp sand you’ve been standing over. The yolk of the sun has begun to slip behind the ocean’s horizon, coloring the water and sky a brilliant red and sending cascading pockets of light along the shore. Jake’s gaze follows the length of the skyline and you can’t help it that yours strays to him.

There’s a rough, pink scar bridging across the length of Jake’s shoulder, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re no stranger to Jake’s recklessness out in the ocean, but the long span of it is unlike the rest you’ve seen on his skin. From its color alone you’re able to tell that he’s gotten it recently, and it hasn’t quite healed yet.

“This one’s new,” he says as if reading your thoughts. Jolting, your eyes snap back to his face to find him looking at you knowingly. “I was too close to an inlet and lost control of my board.”

You hum in response, reaching out to brush your fingertips against the blemished skin. It’s jagged under your touch, warm from where the sun’s kissed it, and you ache to lean down and run your lips over it. Jake exhales softly, head tilting the slightest bit so he can watch you.

“You’ve always been a bit clumsy,” you joke breathlessly, in an attempt to disregard the weird squirming in your chest. But then Jake continues to stare at you silently, and you shift nervously, hand pausing to hover above his back. “Guess you haven’t changed all that much.”

“Neither have you,” Jake mumbles, eyes still caught on your face, “you still look at me like that.”

You burn to ask him what he means, but your heart is stuck in your throat and you don’t think you can speak without saying something you’ll regret.

Yet in a way, you don’t need to ask him what he means. You think there has never been any need for explanations like this. You love Jake, and that’s true without all of the complexities that the statement conjures up. Past or present.

The lapping waves at the shore flood your ears like cotton. Jake’s face is so, so close, and yet it feels like he’s too far away. Like he’s always been.

“Hey,” he whispers, but the word crashes louder in your ears than the waves. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

You can’t speak, but the eagerness that bleeds into your nod is telling enough of just how you feel. Jake’s warm hand tenderly cups the side of your face to bring you closer, and right as another wave breaks onto the shore, his lips meet yours in an achingly gentle way.

He’s everything you remember– he tastes like ocean brine and spearmint gum and his favorite iced tea, remnants of the past and the future you’d yearned for. The calluses on his palm are familiar where they brush against your jaw as he angles your face to deepen the kiss, and you try not to practically whine into his mouth when his tongue slips past your lips.

Your hand travels up from his shoulder to tangle itself in his hair, weaving your fingers through his locks with an urgency that seems to throw both of you off guard. Jake giggles into the kiss when you tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, and you break off when you feel a string of laughter bubbling out of you in response.

“Wow,” he whistles, face adorably red as he tries to smooth his hair back into place. You snort at his predicament, though you suspect your own state isn’t much far off from his. When Jake reaches out to fix up your hair as well, you go quiet, watching him through your lashes.

The silence you lapse into is silent and comfortable, so unlike the standoffish moments you two shared just a few weeks earlier. The thought of how quickly things between you two changed startles you; you realize that you no longer think twice about all the intimate moments and touches you share with Jake, much less feel guilty for any of them.

The voice at the back of your head is no longer there to whisper incessant reminders of the past, reminders of things you should have never taken with you in your baggage to Melbourne.

“You hungry?” Jake’s question startles you back into the present, and without thinking, you nod eagerly once more. His answering laugh makes the tips of your ears burn red, but you’re far too focused on his proposition of food to care. “There’s a really nice diner in the next town over, and I’d love to take you there.”

“Okay, it’s a date,” you grin.

Jake grins back, and you decide there’s no use holding yourself back anymore. You love him.

☀

Jake’s last competition for the season is scheduled the week before you’re set to leave for Melbourne. It’s a big one– his biggest yet– and in the days leading up to it, you’re not able to catch much of him outside of your shop.

He visits twice. Once to pick up an extra emergency repair kit in case something unpredictable happens during his practice sessions, and once to buy his usual Crunchy Peanut Butter Clif Bar. He tells you he’ll save it for the morning of the competition, kissing you on the cheek and sprinting out the door before you can “distract him further”. Whatever that means.

In a way, you don’t look forward to the competition. It serves as a constant reminder that you’re bound to leave at any moment, and of everything wrong that can happen with Jake out on the ocean. Though every competition carries that same latter risk, this particular one required its attendees to take on some of the highest waves your region had seen in years.

You worried for Jake, and as selfish as it was, for what would come of you two after.

“Stop moping, Jake will still be able to give you dick over in Melbourne,” Sunoo had chastised you one night over dinner, flicking a pickle at you.

You’d dodged it, crumpling up a tissue and tossing it right back at him. “Yeah, but it won’t be the same!”

Sticking to tradition, your friend group had decided to gather one last time for dinner before the tournament day. Jake couldn’t make it– that much was customary, too– and you found yourself glancing at the empty spot in the booth one too many times while eating.

It seemed like you couldn’t avoid talking about your fickle future with Jake, much less thinking about it. You knew that there was another conversation due soon, one which you refused to bother Jake with until he was finished with the season. But it was beginning to eat at you from the inside, slowly gnawing through your defense built on friends’ reassurances.

You’d just finally gotten ahold of Jake again, you weren’t ready to give him up so easily.

The shore is more crowded than you’ve ever seen it. Despite arriving relatively early to the tournament grounds, you and your friends had found the sand chaotically packed, with the only remaining spots to spread out a blanket being near the very back. Stopping by the slanted wooden walkway that leads down to the beach, you survey the entire length of the shore, hoping to find a spot with open space.

“Are you sure we’ve got the right place?” Heeseung frowns at the crowd, scrunching his nose up when a kid screams. Sunghoon shrugs, moving to check his phone.

“Surfing’s a big deal guys,” Sunoo chastises, “what? You don’t believe all these people are here for Jake?”

“I don’t think it’s that,” Jay sets down the cooler he’s holding, stretching his arms out with a groan. “I’ve lived here my whole life and I’ve never seen any beach this packed ever. Even when they had that free-entry hippie festival last summer.”

“There’s literally a poster,” you deadpan, pointing to the information bulletin board off to the side. Half of the board is taken up by a familiar, colorful poster, the same one your entire friend group had adamantly reposted onto your Instagram stories for days, plastered onto its surface. You resist the urge to laugh when a collective ohhh follows at your revelation.

Slowly but surely, your group makes it down to the beach with all of your belongings and elaborate signs, all donning Jake’s signature blue. The competitors are nowhere to be seen, so any plans of seeing Jake before everything begins are thrown out the window. You manage to squeeze yourselves further inward, not quite toward the front, but it’s better than the view you’d have to settle for in the very back.

As all of you busy yourselves with setting up the umbrella and blankets, Sunghoon slips away with the promise of returning with cold drinks. But by the time he makes it back, the audience has gotten impossibly larger, and the cardboard trays in both of his hands begin to teeter as he tries to nudge past the thickening crowd. Sunoo laughs at him, but is quick to rush over and take one of the trays into his own hold.

“This tournament’s for the entire Sunshine Coast,” Sunghoon says in a huff, passing around a plastic cup to everyone. “It’s the biggest event for surfing held in this region in decades. No wonder it’s so crowded.”

“Thanks Hoonie,” you smile. The drink is some odd concoction of fruit punch and other sweet juices you can’t recognize, but it’s refreshing and cold so it’s the most delicious thing to you.

Sunghoon nods, finding purchase on the blanket next to you. He takes a swig of his own drink and pulls back to watch the ice clink around in the cup. “The finalists from today are going to attend Nationals in Sydney. South Bondi, or something like that. That’s what the barista told me.”

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and you almost choke on the liquid in your mouth. Sunghoon pats you on the back while you cough it out, and you put your drink down lest you spill it over yourself. “Nationals? Fuck, I feel like I should know if my boyfriend is trying to qualify for Nationals…”

Jake had mentioned that the gravity of the tournament was greater than any of the previous ones he’d been part of, but you had absolutely no recollection of him mentioning the word nationals. You’re certain you know why he didn’t– the worry swelling in your gut is telling enough. But it’s followed with a burst of pride in your chest that makes you feel so giddy you’re sure the grin on your face looks stupid.

Once your coughing fit’s over, you reach down to pick up your cup and take another sip. But it’s then that you sense four pairs of eyes on you, and you look over to find your friends gawking at you. You curl in on yourself subconsciously, grin slowly melting at their expressions. “…What?”

“Boyfriend?” Sunoo all but yells, breaking the silence. The people around you throw weird looks in your direction, but you don’t pay them any mind.

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?” You surmise that the dramatics aren’t unprompted in this situation because you truly hadn’t found a way to break your friends the news yet either, but could anyone blame you? In your eyes, there was no subtle way of announcing it.

“Ha! Heeseung, you owe me 100 bucks,” Jay claps, reaching to high five you. You return the gesture with an exasperated face, not too keen on being stuck between their childish feuds.

Heeseung dishes out the money from his wallet with a sour expression, handing it to Jay and shoving a middle finger in his face.

“No one’s going to congratulate her?” Sunghoon finally speaks up, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Shame on all of you.” Turning to you, he whispers, “Congrats, by the way.”

The other’s enthusiastic good wishes follow suit, and you can’t help the jaw-aching smile that splits your face. You pick up your cup and chase the last of the liquid in there, both to hide your grin and to quench your growing thirst.

By now, you’d gotten more than used to the routine of surf tournaments. You knew when to expect different sections, how long you’d be able to watch Jake out in the waves, and when to anticipate the final minutes. As the music from the judge’s panel diminishes and is replaced by a cheery, high-pitched voice, you sit back against the blanket and get comfortable.

The participants are all introduced with grandiose speeches that make the speakers crackle from the deafening volume. You make sure to whoop and holler extra loud when Jake Sim is announced, squinting against the beaming sun to try and spot his face among the line of surfers.

Jake clears all of his heats with an astounding performance and form. The audience oohs in tandem with each of his moves, and you have to prop yourself up on your knees halfway through to be able to properly see your boyfriend. You cheer and clap animatedly after he completes each series, heart beating faster with each swelling wave that he meets.

The judging panel also seems to love him. From the way they refuse to break their staring while he’s out on the waves to write anything, to the way they mumble amongst each other with dazed looks on their faces after every particularly difficult trick, you can’t help but feel proud. It’s almost disappointing watching him paddle toward shore and give way to the competitor after him.

Despite the intimidating waves, Jake handles himself well and is able to clear through his routine with ease. He doesn’t lose control of his board even for a moment, braving into the highest waves you’d ever seen him take on. The other participants also seemed to be doing well– though not quite as well as Jake– and you find yourself applauding and cheering after some particularly hard routines.

You think it should come as no surprise to anyone on that packed shore that Jake scores a remarkable lead in first place. He carries the highest wave scores throughout most of the tournament, only bettering them further as the heats pass. You get to watch him perform moves you’d never seen before, moves you’d only seen on the news performed by Australia’s best. He’s truly breathtaking in the water– you know you’d think this no matter who he was to you.

The awards ceremony almost makes you burst into tears. Jake’s gold medal is handed over by the main judge, who shakes his hand and pats him on the back as Jake accepts it with a deep bow. He reaches over to wrap his arms around the shoulders of the competitors who’d won second and third place, congratulating them with an earnest smile. When the flashes from the photographers become impossible to ignore, Jake turns to the cameras and brings his medal up to his mouth, biting down on it cheekily.

The crowd doesn’t begin to thin out for a long while. You’re not able to reach Jake until half an hour after the ceremony’s ended, your boyfriend occupied with on-the-spot interviews and eager fans waiting for a photo together. Meanwhile, Sunoo and Jay race back to the car to bring out the bouquet and balloons that you’d brought to surprise Jake.

When Jake is finally able to attend to his personal matters, he all but runs barefoot on the sand towards you, opening his arms in warning once he’s close enough. You yelp at the tight hug you’re all but swept up into, feet kicking out in the air under you when Jake lifts you and begins spinning you. 

“I’m so happy right now!” He shouts toward the sky, voice breathy from exhilaration.

“I’m so proud of you!” You shout back, ruffling his damp hair. The fringe falls into his face and you push it back so you can lean down and kiss him.

“I take back my congratulations,” Heeseung speaks up from behind you, and Jake sticks his tongue out at him before putting you down carefully. He moves to pat your boyfriend on the back, grin so wide it takes up half his face. “Just kidding. That was sick Jake, you killed it out there.”

Sunghoon and Jay echo the statement and barrel into Jake’s sides to hug him, wrangling him into their holds so they can hold him up in the air. Jake doesn’t even bother fighting against them, accepting the inevitable with a fond grin and rolling his eyes once they let up and put him back on the sand.

“And obviously he’s going to kill it in Sydney too,” Sunoo brandishes the bouquet from behind his back, holding it out for Jake to take.

Jake’s face flushes cutely as he accepts the flowers and balloons, posing for photos as you whip out your phone. The thin gold metal sits like a sun against his chest, illuminated with beams as you instruct Jake to turn toward the horizon. You decide that you’re going to set this one as your homescreen later.

As a few more of Jake’s friends from the academy come up to him to personally congratulate him, you hang back and watch him with a smile. Despite growing up, learning more tricks, and climbing his way to your region’s top spots, Jake’s humble attitude hadn’t changed. He still met the hand of fellow surfers and treated them like equals despite any rankings, refusing to let anyone put him up on an invisible pedestal.

The shore has somewhat cleared out by now, most of the people remaining being the competitors themselves and their friends and families. It’s no longer hot enough to make you feel like bursting, and you decide to jog down to the water to dip your feet into the ocean. The water’s cool against your warm skin, the tiny waves lapping at your ankles in rhythmic motions as you stand there and soak in the last of the afternoon sun.

Jake joins you along with the rest of your friends sometime later. You all stand ankle-deep in the water quietly, and when you look over at them, you can’t help the fond grin that blooms on your face.

“Are we celebrating at Auntie Lee’s?” Heeseung suddenly breaks the silence, and you can’t help but burst into laughter.

“We could,” Sunghoon shrugs. “Or we could just hang out here for a while.”

“Jake and I will join you guys later,” you say shyly, reaching for Jake’s hand. “I have to steal him away for a bit right now.”

“Thanks, I just threw up a little bit in my mouth,” Jay faux-gags, pretending to vomit. You pay him no mind.

You and Jake bid your friends goodbye with the premise that they’ll join you later and load his surfboard onto his car. When you finally set off toward your aunt’s shop, you heave a sigh of relief and lean back in the seat. The air conditioner’s broken now, meaning you have to rely on a crammed open window for pockets of fresh air, but even amidst the sweltering heat of the late afternoon, you’ve never felt better.

“I’m hoping that’s a good sigh,” Jake speaks up from the driver’s seat, “I’m driving as fast as the law allows me to, we’re almost there.”

Snorting, you lean against the door in an attempt to catch as much of the breeze filtering in. It’s a bit tricky, given that most of the surface is hot from sitting in the sun. “It’s good, I promise. Just really happy that everything went well with your tournament. And that I have you all to myself now.”

The food you’d prepared for him earlier in the day is sitting in the kitchen, lidded and ready to be portioned out. You and Sunghoon had dug out your aunt’s fancy dinner plates from the basement and cleaned them off for the occasion, setting the table with them in a manner decidedly too formal now that you’re looking at it again. There’s even a candle in the middle, awfully regal in its glass holder and waiting to be lit.

Jake snorts, but it’s fond. He loops an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”

“I felt like cooking something nice for myself,” you tease. Kissing his cheek back, you move to shrug him off of you so you can sit down. “It just happened that your tournament was also today. Don’t let it get to your head.”

“How can I not when my girlfriend prepared a feast for me,” Jake exclaims, sitting down next to you and rubbing his hands. He peers closer at the dishes, eyes going wide at the contents of a particular pot. “Dude, galbitang? Just say you want to marry me and go.”

Your ears feel impossibly hot as you reach for the ladle and begin pouring some of the soup into your bowl. “Hey, less talking, more eating.”

If Jake notices your flushed face, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he silently reaches out with his chopsticks to begin filling your plate with the dumplings you’d made.

As much as you’d like to, the meal is too hefty for you to jump Jake straight after. Once the both of you finish eating and put away the remaining food, you wound up in your aunt’s living room, on her vintage floral couch that’s draped with a nostalgic white sheet.

Jake laughs when he sees it, carefully sitting in the middle so as not to get onto the actual couch. “God, I remember sitting here when we were kids, and your aunt wouldn’t let us watch TV unless we kept the couch covered.”

“I swear no one’s actually touched the real surface of the couch since she bought it in the 90s,” you groan as you settle into the cushions next to Jake. You feel pleasantly groggy, like you could fall asleep at any minute, and it doesn’t help that Jake is so warm and comfortable. “Remember that one time we tried sneaking in TimTams to eat here? I’ve never seen her angrier.”

“That was your idea, by the way, and second, I think she was angrier when we tried to hose down her roses in the backyard. Why were we so evil as kids?” Jake’s head finds its way onto your shoulder, and you try not to shake as you giggle.

Looking at the black TV screen across from you, you make out the matching smiles on both of your faces. It makes your stomach swoop, but you don’t think it’s from the good food you just had. Closing your eyes, you breathe in Jake’s shampoo and sigh. “I miss her a lot, I can’t wait for her to be back.”

You don’t notice you’ve begun dozing off until Jake startles next to you from a buzz in his pocket. Confused, you straighten up and watch as he looks down at his phone with a frown, rubbing at his eyes.

“Shit, Sunghoon texted me that they’re going to be back soon,” he mumbles.

“That sucks,” you say.

The two of you stare at each other for five still seconds, before Jake tosses his phone behind him on the couch and you practically pounce on him. You stagger onto your feet and pull Jake up with you, laughing as you all but race to your room down the hallway. Pushing open the door, you loop your arms around his neck and bring him in for a needy kiss, one you’ve been holding back all afternoon.

Jake shuts the door behind both of you, giggling against your lips when you huff impatiently. Your fingers sidle up under the hem of his shirt, brushing urgently against the heated skin you find. It was getting harder and harder to reel your self control back in around him, and now that you two were alone, you could barely resist jumping him like a predator. But who could blame you?

You also barely resist the triumphant noise that teeters behind your lips once Jake finally relents and takes his shirt off. It’s discarded somewhere in a corner of your room, forgotten as soon as it’s out of your sight. Your hands are back on him quicker than he can turn around, and when he leans down to press his lips against yours again, you feel him smile into the kiss.

“Jake,” you pant, palms drifting up his back with newfound desperation, “Jake, please.”

“Please what?” He teases, breaking off into a surprised groan when you lean down to bite his neck, suckling on the skin and running your tongue over the purpling bruise you leave behind.

Neglecting him of an answer, you continue your venture down his neck until you reach his collarbones. His hands are purposeful where they dip under your shirt to paw at the skin of your tummy and lower back, nudging the material higher and higher until you break off from his neck to take it off altogether.

Jake doesn’t let you continue marking him– instead, he’s the one that incessantly attaches his lips to your chest, tongue lathing over your nipple leisurely. His hand envelopes your other breast and kneads it while your breathing grows laborious, your head falling back as you weave your fingers through his hair. When he switches his attention to your other nipple, you decide you’ve waited long enough.

“If you don’t do something more I’m seriously going to explode,” you warn him, pulling him away from your chest. Jake barks a laugh, wiping at the spit on his chin with the back of his hand before letting you lead him toward your bed.

You fall backwards on the mattress easily, Jake towering over you with heady eyes. He picks up where he left off, plush lips dipping between your breasts and traveling further down with fervent motions.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles against the skin of your hip. The warmth fanning from his breath makes you go lax in his hold, and you hazily blink up at the ceiling in an effort to ground yourself.

His nimble fingers slip under the edges of your shorts, and with one quick look at your desperate nods, he begins tugging the material, along with your underwear, down your legs. Discarding the garment somewhere behind him, he hooks one of your knees over his shoulder, angling your other thigh outwards until you’re comfortably spread out for him. You inhale sharply at the cold air that meets your sensitive area, but the feeling is short-lived.

Jake leans in with an eagerness that has your breath catching in your throat. His lips suction right on your clit, and it takes every effort within you not to buck your hips wantonly into the feeling. His free hand settles warmly on your hip bone like a promise, holding you down against the sheets with a strength that only makes you squirm more.

Whining, you try to slow your breathing as his calloused fingers travel up your inner thigh and brush against your sopping entrance teasingly, where they catch strings of your growing arousal. You’re not normally this sensitive, already wriggling and gasping at the mere brush of his touch, but you reason that it’s because it’s him touching you.

You tense as one of his forefingers prods into you, slowly at first, then with a cocky certainty that makes you see stars. He sinks it into you until his last knuckle, curling it against your walls with growing fervor as you relax in his hold. As Jake adds a second finger, you reach out to weave your fingers through his locks, mewling when his grip on your hips tightens.

“I missed you so much,” he hums into your cunt between rolls of his tongue, groaning when you tug on his hair. “Fuck, you’ve been driving me crazy for such a long time. Can’t believe you’re finally mine again.”

Something in your chest squeezes, and you look down at him with glassy eyes.

It’s a sight that knocks the breath out of you. Jake’s eyes meet yours over the curve of your abdomen, and he takes the moment to lewdly spit directly onto your clit. He massages the saliva with tight figure eight motions, and combined with the rhythmic pumping from his other hand, it makes you feel like you’ll burst.

“I’m close,” you whisper, voice raw and spent. You feel strung out, like you’ve been stuck on the verge of an orgasm for an hour, when it probably has been five minutes at most.

Jake’s fingers squelch when he speeds up his motions, lapping incessantly at your clit as you continue to writhe helplessly. He looks up at you with dark eyes, fingers curling at just the right angle, and it’s enough to send you over the edge.

You come with a drawn-out whine, fingers clutching at his hair with desperation. You feel your thighs quiver before they settle on the mattress around Jake, exhaling deeply as you lean back into the sheets to calm down.

“Holy shit,” you laugh, covering your face as Jake crawls up next to you. He kisses the back of your hands, peppering more kisses along your arms, chest, neck, and whatever parts of your face he can reach. It only makes you giggle more, shying away from his affection with a racing heart.

“So good to me,” he mumbles, finally pressing his lips to yours. You sigh, looping your arms around his neck and leaning into his adoring touch with uncharacteristic bashfulness. Jake holds you like you’re made out of china, like you’re something precious, and the implications of that make your own heart throb with fondness.

Pulling away from the kiss, you push back on his chest gently, shuffling around so that you can sit up. “Lay down, I wanna ride you.”

You crawl over to one of your bedside drawers, tugging the top compartment open and feeling around until you can find what you’re looking for. As Jake leans back against the headboard and makes quick work of discarding his pants and boxers, you fish out the condom and join him so you can perch yourself on his lap. You tear open the foil, discarding it somewhere off to the side, and hold it up between you two like a gem.

“You’ve been planning for this, huh?” He teases, but you ignore him in favor of rolling the condom down his length. He watches you all the while, sucking in air through his teeth when you touch a particularly sensitive part of him.

“It’s hard not to when my boyfriend is so hot,” you answer, leaning down to kiss him again. His hands settle on your hips, and when you grind down on him experimentally, he practically moans into your mouth.

Leaning back on his lap, you reach down to align him with your entrance, pouting when your first two attempts to press him in fail. He’s awfully slippery with the lubricated condom, and you’re awfully nervous about the whole situation, so it’s no wonder your hands shake as you attempt to do it again. You let out a frustrated laugh, frowning when his cock flops back onto his stomach and you’re left hovering above his lap.

“Let me,” he whispers, gripping his length and holding your hip attentively. He pushes his tip in slowly, eyes trained on your face for any signs of discomfort, and biting his lip as he sinks further. About halfway in, you feel him pause reluctantly, and you hiss as you clench around him.

“Love, you’ve got to relax. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you mumble, looking away from him when you feel your face begin to burn from embarrassment. Jake’s hands envelop your sides to bring you close to him, and you bury yourself in his shoulder as he slips out from underneath you. “I’m just really nervous. Don’t want to mess this up.”

His hand begins to draw patient, comforting circles on your lower back. You feel your breaths begin to even out, along with your racing heart, and you turn your head to leave grateful kisses along Jake’s neck. He shudders and hugs you tighter. “You’re okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”

And that’s the thing– because despite running from your feelings, running from him, Jake has never once let his patience run thin with you. He’s always been right there, waiting for you to come back, waiting for you to love him back with the same certainty that he always has.

It feels entirely unfair. But as you look back at his glittering eyes, at the handfuls of adoration in each of them, you feel your jitteriness slip away and become replaced with wholehearted sureness.

“I’m ready,” you say with conviction, pulling back to rest your hands on his toned chest. “Jake Sim, I’m about to rock your fucking world.”

Jake’s laughter sounds like bells in the springtime. He leans back to watch you push him back in, letting out a drawn-out sigh when he bottoms out and the backs of your thighs meet his hips. The shaky moan that slips from you feels too loud in the quietness of your bedroom, but you can't find it in you to feel shy as Jake’s cock drags leisurely against your walls.

Despite how weak you feel, you’re able to build up a steady rhythm with your hips. With each downward thrust, you revel in the way Jake’s eyes follow you, and in the soft sounds that are coaxed out of his mouth. You reach out to push away the fringe that has fallen into his face, cupping his face for a brief moment before your hand snakes down between your bodies to rub at your clit.

You keen at the feeling, but your fingers are quickly replaced by Jake’s own, which nudge at the bundle of nerves with growing urgency. His hips are rocking back up in tandem with your thrusts, eyebrows furrowed and lips wrapped around a breathy moan that reverberates around the room and makes the heat in your stomach triple.

You feel like a mess; you’re breathing heavy and your skin’s all sweaty and your thighs are burning with the effort to make both of you feel good. But Jake looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and it makes you forget about everything else.

“I’m really close,” you breathily laugh. Your hips begin to stutter as you feel the growing wave in your abdomen swell higher and higher with each of your motions, slowly losing all sense of coordination. Jake doesn’t seem to mind all too much though.

“Me too,” he mumbles the sentiment. The flush on his face has spread to his neck and chest, a pleasant rhubarb shade that you can make out even in the darkness. He’s so lovely, and all yours.

Jake’s thumb on your clit hastily adds more pressure as your breath quickens. Your vision grows blurry at the edges but you can’t look away from Jake, whose eyes are boring into yours.

“Jake, I’m so close, m’cumming, God, please, Jake–” your babbling is cut off when your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, pulling you under and rendering you breathless. You distantly feel your thighs shake around Jake’s hips as you ride it out, followed by a drawn out groan from his side when he hits his own high.

Your heart is pounding in your ears when you slip Jake out of you, and you barely have enough energy to roll off of him before flopping down on the bed. You still don’t quite feel like you’re on the ground, brain all mushy and struggling to piece the night’s events together. A part of you is convinced you’re dreaming, if the hazy ringing in your ears is anything to go by.

“Sweet girl,” Jake coos, brushing the hair that’s gotten in your face. He reaches over the side of the bed to fish his underwear out from the messy pile, tugging the briefs on and standing up. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

The ceiling of your room is bleached a moon white from the light streaming in outside. You listen with a racing heart and heaving chest as Jake rummages around in your bathroom, returning seconds later with a damp rag in hand. He maneuvers your legs around so he can wipe up the worst of your mess, gently hushing you when you whine from the drag of it against your sensitive skin.

“I really hope Sunghoon and the others aren’t back yet,” he quietly giggles, discarding the rag off to the side once he’s cleaned himself up.

“We warned them earlier,” you mumble sleepily. You can already feel an ache settling into your knees and lower back, but decide that it’s a problem for tomorrow’s you to worry about.

Jake lays down next to you and props himself up on his elbow to look at you. Even in the bleak darkness, you can make out the way his eyes won’t drift away from you, the way their edges crinkle when you giggle. Feeling shy, you pull the blanket up to your chin and try to hide behind it.

Jake doesn’t take any of it though. He slips right under the blanket with you, fingers immediately reaching for your sides to try and tickle you. You give up almost immediately, shrieking with laughter and begging him to stop while your feet thrash around.

“You can’t hog the whole thing,” he laughs, “I’m getting cold out here!”

Instead of answering, you drop the blanket on top of both of you and use your free arm to loop around his neck, bringing him in for a tight hug. You nudge your face into his bare chest and kiss him on one of his older scars, whose outline is so faint you can barely make it out anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Jake whispers.

He moves to wrap an arm around your waist and you throw one of your legs over his hips. He’s warm, and you can faintly hear his thrumming heart and each breath he takes. His hand is pleasant against your lower back where he traces meaningless shapes into the curve of your spine.

“I love you so much,” you answer. And you mean it.

Jake’s hand continues without pause, and you think you feel him smile against the top of your head. His lips are soft where they press a kiss to your hair.

“I love you too,” he says. And you know he means it.

☀

Melbourne Central has always felt like hell, but today it seems exceptionally so.

You’d think the entire city has spilled into the railway station at once with how crowded the platforms are, each person practically shoulder to shoulder with the next. After an entire day of traveling, you’re beyond spent and in desperate need to be back home, so it’s with tired feet that you attempt to trudge through the chaos.

“Don’t get lost on me now,” you hear Jake’s familiar voice from next to you, and the weight from your luggage on your hand disappears. “Hold onto me, I need to make sure I deliver you in one piece or Sunghoon’s going to kill me.”

You loop your arm around Jake’s bicep and wince as he maneuvers the both of you through the crowd. Both of you begin to sound like broken records with how often you’re mumbling pardon us and different variations of sorry as you squeeze yourselves past different groups of people. Overhead, the announcer’s monotone voice about a delayed train arrival blends into the amalgamated mess of noise in the station, and you swear you’re going to go insane if you don’t get out of there fast.

Outside, the pleasant autumn sun has you squinting up at the sky and reveling in the fresh air that greets you. Jake tells you that the taxi he ordered is here, and you have only a few seconds to take in the world around you before you’re being whisked away again. As you haul your luggage into the back of the car and cram into the back with your boyfriend, you lean over to watch the city pass you by through the window and tune everything else out.

It’s weird, being in the same position you were in just a few months ago. Familiar buildings fly you by but you’re no longer stricken by grief or holding back tears as you watch them disappear. The feeling in your chest is bittersweet– you’re looking back on this summer with a smile and a warm heart. You’d reconciled with everything you’d been avoiding, and came back with more than you could’ve ever hoped for.

“We’re here,” Jake says, and you blink your hazy thoughts away. Looking over, you find that he has one of your hands in his own, thumb smoothing over your skin gently as if he can read your mind. You smile, squeeze his hand, and step out of the taxi.

Against your complaints, Jake takes on doing most of the work of taking your luggage up to your apartment. He doesn’t let you carry any of the heavier bags, rushing to grab them once he’s hauled them out of the taxi before you can even reach for them. You’re left trailing behind him, trying not to make your leering too obvious as his arms bulge under the weight of your luggage.

The door to your apartment opens with a high-pitched squeak. You trudge in slowly, taking in the sun-lit hall with wide eyes. It’s exactly like you remember leaving it, but now Jake’s standing in the middle of the tiny space, looking around with a grin so earnest it makes your heart swell. You know that it’s only a matter of time before everything here reminds you of him too.

“We’ve got some cleaning to do,” Jake notes as he passes by the dusty shelf in your living room. Looking out the floor-length window that takes up the entirety of one of the walls, he whistles and turns to you with his face lit up. You distantly think it reminds you of a smiling dog, only that his tongue isn’t out. “Yo, this view’s crazy! You can see so much of the center from here. I’d kill to be waking up to this every morning.”

“We do have some nice surfing spots a short drive away,” the implications of your words are clear as day, and Jake’s eyes narrow at you playfully. “What? I’m just saying.”

Jake looks out the window again, humming as his eyes trace the edges of the buildings that stand out against the horizon. You feel a bit nervous being so brazen with your future intentions, but everything Jake’s said and done so far has led you to believe he’s on the same page. “I’ll think about it when I finish this term. I’m serious about getting my degree, but I’m not against seeing your pretty face when I come home every day.”

Nodding, you try not to let the excitement bleed out onto your face, but it’s impossible when Jake’s words sound like a promise. “Hey, when do you need to go back for uni, anyway?”

“My term doesn’t start for another week,” he glances back at you and pouts. “Why are you trying to get rid of me so soon?”

You can feel the tips of your ears reddening and you quickly shake your head. “No no, I just wanted to make sure you don’t end up missing your own important stuff. I’d want you to stay here forever if it were up to me.”

“Right,” Jake drawls, and he rounds the couch to attach himself to your back. You feel every curve of him pressed up against you, and with the way his arms snake around your waist and his hands inch under your shirt, you know exactly where this is headed. “Just so you know, you couldn’t get rid of me even if you wanted to.”

“And just so you know, the building in front of us can see everything through these windows,” you say, but Jake’s hands remain incriminatingly low on your hips.

You feel the sigh of his laughter fan out against your neck and your breath hitches. “That’s fine, you’ve still gotta show me your bedroom anyway. So I know where to put our bags.”

“Mhm,” you agree, and the disappointed noise you make when he lets go of you is embarrassingly loud. Jake giggles, and you waste no time in dragging him by the wrist through your apartment.

“My bed’s big enough for the both of us, so you can just sleep with me while you’re here,” you open your bedroom door and usher Jake in after you. It’s cute how nervous he looks standing around, unsure of where to sit or what to look at first. “And stop making that face! You’d think I kidnapped you and I’m holding you hostage.”

After enough coaxing and changing into clean clothes, you and Jake both end up sitting on the edge of your bed, but his mannerisms are still telling of how anxious he feels. His movements are all jittery and his hands run repeatedly over his knees, almost like he’s wiping the sweat off his palms. “It’s just crazy to think about the fact that you have a whole different life here. I don’t know where I’m supposed to fit in, and it’s really hitting me now that I’m actually here, y’know?”

“Jake,” you softly prompt him to look at you, frowning when his eyes meet yours and you see the same uncertainty that you were struggling with in them. You cup his face gently and thumb at the skin of his cheek, whispering, “I can promise you that you’ve got nothing to worry about. There’s more than enough space for you in my life. There always has been.”

With the way he leans into your touch, you can tell that he believes you.

You both lay back against the mattress, if only to rest for a second before you know you’ll have to inevitably get up again. But before you can move to sit up, Jake’s hovering above you with a knowing grin, and you can’t complain much as he leans in to press his lips against yours. It’s soft at first, nothing more, but then he’s cupping your jaw and slipping his tongue in between your lips and you know where this is headed.

“We should unpack first,” you half-heartedly mumble between kisses. Jake begins kissing down your neck, and you groan, head falling backwards. Your words come out increasingly less convincing with each vowel, until there’s absolutely zero conviction in everything you’re saying. “We should really… we’ll be too lazy later…”

“That’s no way to welcome your guest,” Jake pouts against your skin. 

You let him continue venturing down your neck until he’s slipping the shoulder of your t-shirt off, eager to get his mouth on your chest, when you startle in his hold and make him pause. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I just have something to show you,” you laugh, sitting up and scooting to the edge of your bed. You clamber down onto the ground and look under your bed, reaching out to unearth the box you’d suddenly remembered.

“The box of seashells you gave me,” you tell Jake. You place the box carefully on your bed and begin to rummage through your backpack for the ones he’d given you right before kissing you.

The box is a tiny wooden thing with a metal clasp in the front that opens with a bit of force. You open it and let Jake peek inside, placing your newest additions inside with careful hands. Jake’s jaw is slack as his fingers poke at the different seashells you’d accumulated over the years of knowing him, bottom lip jutting out as he turns to look at you.

“You really kept all of them,” he mumbles in awe.

“Well I wasn’t going to throw them away.” You joke, closing the box and placing it on your nightstand. “Besides, they meant a lot to me. Still do.”

Wordlessly, Jake leans down to kiss your exposed shoulder. He rests his cheek against the skin there, and you reach out to card one of your hands through his unruly hair. It’s not damp from the ocean or sandy after one of his surfing sessions. It’s soft under your fingers, tousled after a long day of traveling, and it smells faintly of mint. 

“You know what I think?”

Jake hums questioningly, peering up at you through his lashes.

“I think we should shower. Then continue where we left off, if you still want, and then nap. Like for a while. And then we can go to that diner down the street I kept telling you about.”

Jake smiles against your shoulder and leans up to kiss you on the nose. You cup one of his cheeks and thumb at the faint freckle near his temple. He looks beautiful, like all of the sunsets you’d seen in your hometown, all of the seashells you’d collected, and all of the roses in your aunt’s backyard.

The edge of Jake’s lips quirks up at your offer. You kiss him before you can respond, and revel in the dazed look and breathy response you draw from him. He’s beautiful, and all yours. “Yeah, I think that sounds like a great idea.”

author's note: if you've read all the way down to here i hope your pillow is cold on both sides, always. i worked very hard on this baby and i hope that whoever reads it enjoys it at least a fraction of the amount that i enjoyed writing it 🤍 comments and reblogs mean the world to me!!!

taglist: @enhastolemyheart, @fakeuwus, @jakesimsgf, @hannivrse, @jayk2025, @bluesoobinnie, @luvvsjungwonn, @cha0thicpisces, @thejjrl, @sweetjaemss, @ohmykwonsoonyoung, @yaatrickyaaa, @albono-bueno, @itstessasblog, @emiliasstuffs-blog, @ddeonugu, @bloobworld, @loveleejn, @flower-lise, @jayfrvr

©nightdiary 2024. do not repost.

꒰ PULCHRITUDINOUS ! ꒱ -- yang jungwon - ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

(dividers from here and here!)

✿ wc; 0.9k

✿ pairing; devil ! jungwon x fem ! angel ! reader

✿ genre; smut. absolute FILTH minors do not interact

✿ contains; supernatural themes (devil won angel reader), won is v teasing but soft dom, reader is extremely subby, pet names (angel, darling, kitten, ect.), sir kink, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, A LOT of corruption kink (reader is vv innocent) praise, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink.

"that's it angel. you always do so well for me." jungwon's delicate, sadistic voice made your ears ring as you looked up at him. a sweet hiss pushing through his fangs as his length pushed painfully into you, inch-by-inch until you were filled to the hilt.

you couldn't believe it. you were making a deal with the devil.

"w-wonnie, i-"

"sir."

you gulped, as his fingers ran through your hair, "sir." you corrected yourself, biting your bottom lip as he slowly slid himself out of you, before thrusting back in again.

"tell me, kitten."

you whined as he leaned in, teeth closing around your earlobe as he gently bit down on it, "i-i just..." you squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking at them from the stretch when he continued to move in and out of you, as you gripped onto his shoulder, "s-someone's gonna find us..!"

"will they?" he smiled at you, "well. that's too bad for you, darling."

"h-huh?" you blinked, "for me..? what about you?"

jungwon chuckled at you.

"oh, you're adorable, angel. do i really need to spell it out for you?" he said, before whispering into your ear, "everyone already knows me. a big, mean, scary monster, with the tendency to ruin pretty little things like you." he smirked, poking the end of your nose with his fingertip as he said the last word, "but you... you're just that. a pretty little thing. you've built yourself quite the reputation, haven't you? y/n l/n... a sugary-sweet, innocent, intelligent, pulchritudinous girl. what would someone think if they walked in and saw this perfect girl getting ruined all over devil cock like this?"

you let out a broken moan as he picked up the pace, tears racing down your cheeks. he cooed at you, "awh, don't cry kitten. it'll all be our little secret, hmm? i promise i won't tell a soul about how dirty you really are." his eyes flashed a bright shade of yellow as he leaned down to kiss your chest, finding your hardened nipple with his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before biting down on the sensitive bud. he fed off of the pleasureful whine he got out of you from it, "so sensitive. pretty baby's only this dumb and pathetic for me, aren't you?"

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head desperately. it was as if he sent you into another dimension as he filled you up with such graceful impurity.

he was right. only you were truly at risk here. if anyone walked in on this, your entire reputation would be destroyed.

but you were too far gone to be worried about that, as your third orgasm of the night began to build up in your stomach. your fingers held tightly onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. jungwon smirked, his tongue protruding through his cheek as his sharp fangs reflected the moonlight from the window outside the window.

"gonna cum?" he asked you, his voice shaky and whispery as he leaned into your ear, asking you the vile and disgusting question without missing a beat.

your breath hitched in your throat, unable to respond to him other than with a long, whimpery string of moans, a tiny little 'yes sir' knotted to the end, which you only managed to cry out after much struggling.

he laughed darkly, licking a stripe up along the side of your ear as he gripped tightly onto your hips with his sharp claws, lifting you to a degree and pulling you onto his shaft as he met your hips halfway, "good. i'm gonna fill you up so good, yeah? you want that?"

you gasped and shuddered at this new angle, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as fast as raindrops on a window pane in a heavy rainstorm. you could feel so much more now, the way his bulbous head rubbed against your cervix when the base of his length reached the end made you feel foggy in the head, as you only nodded your head vigorously, "y-yes sir! please w-want you..!" you babbled drunkenly, intoxicated by his devilish intrusion.

jungwon smirked at your tearful desperation, "how dirty of you..." he whispered teasingly, "you want my devil babies in your pretty little angel pussy? hm?"

you weren't even really sure of the extent of what he was saying anymore, only gasp and nodding your head, feeling your opening clamp tightly down onto him, the stretch now even more satisfying as you felt your eyes roll back, your body arching off of the desk. "m' g-gonna..!"

he chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the knot snap before him, your entire body shaking as you gushed around him, making a real mess of the classroom desk, your words breaking into torn and fragmented moans and whimpers. you could feel your heartbeat thundering through your body, thighs dripping with essence as you gasped for air, eyelids heavy as he continued to chase his high, connecting his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

he let out a soft groan against your lips as he stilled his movements, his warm, pearlescent release filling you to the hilt as your eyelashes fluttered and your breath began to slow to a more fluid pace.

the both of you took a moment to calm down, before you opened your mouth to say something, but jungwon only grinned at you, hushing you gently.

"shh... i'll take care of you, sweet angel."

✿ taglist; @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

꒰ PULCHRITUDINOUS ! ꒱ -- yang jungwon - ˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚

(dividers from here and here!)

✿ wc; 0.9k

✿ pairing; devil ! jungwon x fem ! angel ! reader

✿ genre; smut. absolute FILTH minors do not interact

✿ contains; supernatural themes (devil won angel reader), won is v teasing but soft dom, reader is extremely subby, pet names (angel, darling, kitten, ect.), sir kink, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, A LOT of corruption kink (reader is vv innocent) praise, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink.

"that's it angel. you always do so well for me." jungwon's delicate, sadistic voice made your ears ring as you looked up at him. a sweet hiss pushing through his fangs as his length pushed painfully into you, inch-by-inch until you were filled to the hilt.

you couldn't believe it. you were making a deal with the devil.

"w-wonnie, i-"

"sir."

you gulped, as his fingers ran through your hair, "sir." you corrected yourself, biting your bottom lip as he slowly slid himself out of you, before thrusting back in again.

"tell me, kitten."

you whined as he leaned in, teeth closing around your earlobe as he gently bit down on it, "i-i just..." you squeezed your eyes shut, tears pricking at them from the stretch when he continued to move in and out of you, as you gripped onto his shoulder, "s-someone's gonna find us..!"

"will they?" he smiled at you, "well. that's too bad for you, darling."

"h-huh?" you blinked, "for me..? what about you?"

jungwon chuckled at you.

"oh, you're adorable, angel. do i really need to spell it out for you?" he said, before whispering into your ear, "everyone already knows me. a big, mean, scary monster, with the tendency to ruin pretty little things like you." he smirked, poking the end of your nose with his fingertip as he said the last word, "but you... you're just that. a pretty little thing. you've built yourself quite the reputation, haven't you? y/n l/n... a sugary-sweet, innocent, intelligent, pulchritudinous girl. what would someone think if they walked in and saw this perfect girl getting ruined all over devil cock like this?"

you let out a broken moan as he picked up the pace, tears racing down your cheeks. he cooed at you, "awh, don't cry kitten. it'll all be our little secret, hmm? i promise i won't tell a soul about how dirty you really are." his eyes flashed a bright shade of yellow as he leaned down to kiss your chest, finding your hardened nipple with his mouth and swirling his tongue around it before biting down on the sensitive bud. he fed off of the pleasureful whine he got out of you from it, "so sensitive. pretty baby's only this dumb and pathetic for me, aren't you?"

tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded your head desperately. it was as if he sent you into another dimension as he filled you up with such graceful impurity.

he was right. only you were truly at risk here. if anyone walked in on this, your entire reputation would be destroyed.

but you were too far gone to be worried about that, as your third orgasm of the night began to build up in your stomach. your fingers held tightly onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. jungwon smirked, his tongue protruding through his cheek as his sharp fangs reflected the moonlight from the window outside the window.

"gonna cum?" he asked you, his voice shaky and whispery as he leaned into your ear, asking you the vile and disgusting question without missing a beat.

your breath hitched in your throat, unable to respond to him other than with a long, whimpery string of moans, a tiny little 'yes sir' knotted to the end, which you only managed to cry out after much struggling.

he laughed darkly, licking a stripe up along the side of your ear as he gripped tightly onto your hips with his sharp claws, lifting you to a degree and pulling you onto his shaft as he met your hips halfway, "good. i'm gonna fill you up so good, yeah? you want that?"

you gasped and shuddered at this new angle, the tears now rolling down your cheeks as fast as raindrops on a window pane in a heavy rainstorm. you could feel so much more now, the way his bulbous head rubbed against your cervix when the base of his length reached the end made you feel foggy in the head, as you only nodded your head vigorously, "y-yes sir! please w-want you..!" you babbled drunkenly, intoxicated by his devilish intrusion.

jungwon smirked at your tearful desperation, "how dirty of you..." he whispered teasingly, "you want my devil babies in your pretty little angel pussy? hm?"

you weren't even really sure of the extent of what he was saying anymore, only gasp and nodding your head, feeling your opening clamp tightly down onto him, the stretch now even more satisfying as you felt your eyes roll back, your body arching off of the desk. "m' g-gonna..!"

he chuckled beneath his breath as he watched the knot snap before him, your entire body shaking as you gushed around him, making a real mess of the classroom desk, your words breaking into torn and fragmented moans and whimpers. you could feel your heartbeat thundering through your body, thighs dripping with essence as you gasped for air, eyelids heavy as he continued to chase his high, connecting his lips to yours in a messy kiss.

he let out a soft groan against your lips as he stilled his movements, his warm, pearlescent release filling you to the hilt as your eyelashes fluttered and your breath began to slow to a more fluid pace.

the both of you took a moment to calm down, before you opened your mouth to say something, but jungwon only grinned at you, hushing you gently.

"shh... i'll take care of you, sweet angel."

✿ taglist; @hunbun07 @metalchick529 @chewryy @iraa567 @jwchn @bunhoons !

loved this <3

beat you at your own game | hrj

summary : y/n has a crush on renjun, who's not that great with people. despite his standoffish nature, she makes an effort to be friendly. but things take a twist when she starts to ignore him.

pairing : renjun x fem! reader

genre : college au. romance, fluff, angst

word count : 3.5k

huang renjun, how exactly would you describe him? well, for starters, he can be a bit cranky. he's all about having his own space, not a fan of dragging things out, and gets things done in a flash. he’s also straightforward and not afraid to speak his mind. people have mixed feelings about him because of it. but oddly enough, it only adds to his charm, making people naturally drawn to him, much to his 'i'd-rather-not' demeanor.

needless to say, you just had to develop a crush on someone who’s the total opposite of you. you’re a people-pleaser; you’d much rather say things that would please others rather than express your genuine thoughts. confrontations make you uncomfortable, and you lean towards making excuses for those who hurt you on purpose. you also always try to avoid conflicts as much as you can, and resort to suffering in silence instead. you're trying to change that aspect about yourself, but you grew up having those traits, making it hard to break free. nevertheless, you're working on it.

you never intended to let renjun know about your feelings, but your friends were determined to embarrass you whenever he was around, constantly teasing you. it didn't help that despite not being close to renjun and his group, some of them were friends with your close friends, so they eventually joined in poking fun at your crush. one day, you decided to dismiss their incessant teasing and initiated a friendly conversation with renjun. at first, he responded out of courtesy. you weren't stupid though; you could tell that renjun was clearly fed up with his friends and wanted nothing to do with their antics.

he began to dislike being associated with you, offering only short responses and not acknowledging your presence more than necessary. you didn’t pay it much mind, since getting close to him wasn't your original goal. your aim was to ease the awkwardness and shed the embarrassment that accompanied your interactions. you happened to share some classes with renjun, coincidentally, those were the ones where both your friends weren't around. sitting next to him became a default habit, as he was the only familiar face in those particular classes.

one morning, you found yourself running late for your 8am class, prompting you to dash before your professor arrived. you accidentally collided with renjun, who happened to be holding an iced coffee. to your horror, more than half of the drink ended up spilling onto his shirt.

“oh my god, renjun, i’m so sorry!” you looked at him in fear, and it took everything in him to remain calm.

“why are you running around a busy hallway?”

“i’m really, really sorry. i’m late for my first class and i didn’t think i’d bump into anyone.” renjun let out an annoyed sigh.

“whatever.”

“wait!” you opened your bag to bring out your alcohol and wipes. “do you need them?”

“no, thank you.” he proceeded to walk past you, but you held onto his arm.

“what about the stain?”

“i have a spare shirt. can you let me go now? i thought you said you were late.”

“shoot, you’re right. i’m sorry again, i promise i’ll make it up to you!” you shouted as you ran.

“please don’t,” he grumbled.

later on, you found renjun at the library working on your assignments. you sat quietly next to him and began doing your own. he didn’t spare you a look and just carried on with his work. you spent a few hours completing them, and both of you got it done at the same time. as you got up to gather your things, you spoke to the boy beside you.

“renjun, do you have anything to do after this?”

“no.”

“do you want to try the newly opened diner just a few blocks away? my friends have prior commitments, and i wanted to make it up to you for spilling your coffee earlier.” you already knew he was going to refuse, but it wouldn’t hurt to still ask.

“sorry, i’ll have to pass. i need to get home quickly.” you nodded in understanding and smiled at him.

“no biggie. take care on your way home!”

“thanks,” he simply said before leaving.

“how are you and y/n? any progress? are you going out already?” jaemin asked teasingly, wiggling his brows.

“shut up. i want her to back off, honestly.”

“you want everyone to back off.”

“yeah, but most especially, y/n.”

“uh, why do you sound so annoyed with her?”

“because she is. i turned her down several times, but she can’t take a hint. nothing’s more annoying than someone who imposes themselves on others.”

“relax, man. you’re being a little too hard on the girl. you’ll see that she’s nice if you give her a chance.”

“what exactly is nice about her being fixated on me? it’s mostly your fault. if you guys weren’t such instigators, she wouldn’t have been pushy.”

you walked away from the scene, ensuring they didn’t notice your presence. you wiped away the lone tear that involuntary fell from your eye. it wasn’t often that you heard someone openly talk about their obvious dislike of you, and hearing it from the person you were supposed to like was quite disheartening. it wasn't your intention to impose your presence on him or force a connection that wasn't meant to be. you reckoned it was time to reevaluate your feelings and accept the need to let go of your futile crush on renjun, sparing both of you from any further confusion or misunderstandings.

renjun had grown accustomed to spotting you in your regular seat during your shared class. however, he was met with surprise when he noticed you had moved to a vacant seat considerably distant from your usual spot next to him. he was a bit confused at first, but chose not to dwell on it. he also noted that you didn't notice his entrance into the room, as you were engrossed in some task.

you continued to maintain a distance in your next classes with renjun. he was uncertain if you were oblivious to his presence or deliberately avoiding acknowledgement, given the lack of glances his way. he found it a bit strange that you refrained from initiating any form of interaction, but he didn’t mind. he thought he felt better. at least, for now.

however, renjun was not expecting your odd behavior to persist. it brought another surprise when you ignored him again the following day. even when your eyes accidentally locked for a second, you quickly averted your gaze. renjun wasn’t sure if you really didn’t see him or were just pretending not to. you weren’t wearing your glasses, and your eyesight wasn't the best. but even if you did ignore him on purpose, he didn’t mind… or did he?

it’s been a while since you stopped talking to renjun. at first, he thought he felt a sense of relief, thinking it gave him some space. but after a week, he was confused about why you suddenly stopped. the following week, he could feel his stomach churning seeing you leave class, secretly hoping you’d look back. then, the week after that, he felt a wave of anger because there were more than a few times he bumped into you purposely to get you to talk to him, but you did not utter any word other than a quiet apology. now, nearly a month later, he started to feel dejected because no matter what he did, you always acted like he wasn't even there. renjun wasn’t sure what he did wrong to make you so determined in avoiding him completely.

“renjun is going through 5 stages of grief,” jaemin started with a taunting smirk.

“what?” haechan looked at him in confusion.

“y/n has been ignoring him for a month.”

“WHAT? WHY?”

“exactly. i haven’t had the chance to ask her since we’re not close enough.”

“what about jeno?”

“he doesn’t want to pry.”

“maybe she got tired of renjun’s grumpy attitude,” chenle chimed in.

“maybe,” jaemin turned to the boy in question. “look at him, he’s miserable.”

“shut up,” renjun muttered in discontent.

“stop provoking him. this is his first heartbreak,” chenle taunted, making renjun roll his eyes at their ridiculousness.

“you know you can always speak to her first and ask her what’s up, right?”

“if she wanted to speak to me, she would’ve done it first,” his friends could only shake their heads in disapproval.

“don’t be stupid.”

“and i’m begging all of you to mind your own business.”

“be that way, and you’ll find yourself in an irreversible situation.”

"yeah, renjun, don't say we didn't warn you!" haechan added with a mischievous grin.

you kept quiet about what you had overheard from renjun in the last month, choosing not to share the details with your friends. you figured they would eventually notice renjun's absence from your life, and when they finally asked you about it, you dismissed their probing questions. you casually informed them that your crush on him had simply faded after getting to know him better. you were quite good at making believable lies, they were convinced by it and dropped the topic quickly.

unexpectedly, renjun sought you out in an empty classroom to confront you about your sudden disconnection. you looked like a deer caught in headlights when you realized who had just entered, walking in long and quick strides to your direction. in your mind, you were already conjuring up excuses to explain yourself.

“why are you ignoring me?” his question broke the silence, leaving you with no room to escape.

so much for attempting to evade this confrontation.

you took a moment to gather your thoughts, unsure how to respond. you tried to conceal your distress as renjun stared down at you while waiting for you to talk. it seemed like he was determined to stand his ground, expecting you to tell him the truth. with a frustrated sigh, you finally spoke up.

“i’m just staying out of your way,” you said after a moment of silence.

“yeah, so why?” his voice was demanding, it ticked you off a little.

you questioned why you were initially afraid of renjun confronting you and why you bothered coming up with excuses. after all, it wasn't his place to interrogate you when you were simply doing what he seemed to want from the start.

“i don’t know why you’re asking. isn’t that what you want? you should be happy.” you began to gather your things so you can walk off, but you heard him speak again.

“i don’t remember telling you to keep your distance. you obviously have a problem with me. what is it?”

“you don’t remember telling me because you didn’t. you told other people.” your tone laced with a hint of annoyance.

“that what?”

“renjun, i don’t get you. you keep brushing me off, you show your irritation with me so openly, and you tell everyone that you want me out of your line of sight. and now that i’m doing exactly that, you’re still mad at me? what’s your problem?”

“stop speaking in riddles and just tell me what's going on,” he said in an exasperated tone as you shifted to face him directly.

“last month, i was passing by the main library, and i overheard you talking to your friends. you mentioned something about me not getting a hint and wanting me to leave you alone,” renjun looked a bit puzzled at first. when you were about to walk away, his eyes widened in realization.

“no, y/n, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean any of what i said-“ you shook your head lightly at his predictable response.

“don’t be. you were completely right, and i’m not even angry about it. i just don’t want to do anything with you anymore.”

“listen, i really am sorry. i blurted out those things in the heat of the moment. i regret saying them out loud, especially now that i know you were there to hear it… it’s really not what i think of you.”

“it’s fine, renjun. i didn’t tell you all of this to get an apology. i’m only telling you why i’m doing what i’m doing, like you asked, and to make it clear that i’m done.” renjun blocked your way hastily to stop you from leaving.

“hear me out, alright? back then, i was being overly sensitive. they were pushing my buttons, and i didn't know how to handle it. i messed up, treated you badly, and you didn’t deserve any of that. a month without you made me realize a few things. i had to confront what i really want and face some truths i'd been avoiding,” he paused, gauging your reaction before continuing. “i miss spending time with you, and, well, i realized i've got feelings for you. more than i thought. it never crossed my mind that you'd actually step away, and it hit me hard. the idea of losing you if you choose to walk away made me lose my mind.” your heart raced as he spoke, and his confession stirred up a mix of emotions. your confusion lingered, but you decided to reason through it, pushing aside the sincerity in his eyes as you gave him an incredulous look.

“are you… getting your feelings confused with something else? did you consider that maybe your mind is playing tricks on you, making you think you like me because you're used to others chasing after you?” he winced, trying to ignore the indirect suggestion that he might be a narcissist. it was a struggle for him to open up about his feelings, only for the girl he liked to question and imply that he couldn't understand his own emotions.

“i wouldn't be here questioning why you've been avoiding me for a month, and pouring out my feelings if i hadn't thought this through. it might be hard to believe right now, but if you give me a chance, i can prove it to you."

“i don’t think this is a good idea,” his face contorted into a pained expression. he felt lost, trying to find the right words to convince you. taking a deep breath, he gently held your shoulders, making you look up at him.

“please, just give me a chance to prove myself. i feel like i've wasted so much time.” the desperation was evident in his voice. still skeptical of his feelings, you removed his hands as they fell down to your arms.

“i’ll think about it.” you said before walking away, leaving a lingering sense of uncertainty in the air.

renjun’s friends had been observing him for a few days, and he’s become unusually quiet. they contemplated asking him what’s wrong, but they wanted to give him some space. it was glaringly obvious that something was bothering him, and he didn’t want to talk about it. jeno couldn't help but express his concern.

"renjun, you've been awfully quiet lately. everything alright?"

"yeah, i'm fine. just dealing with some stuff." jeno and jaemin exchanged knowing glances.

"we're here whenever you're ready to talk." jaemin assured, patting his back.

he had been feeling down since your conversation a few days ago. your words had been weighing on his mind and creating an internal turmoil. the fact that you continued to ignored him in all your classes didn't offer much comfort. renjun couldn't help but cast a longing look in your direction whenever he saw you. he was torn between regret and fear that he might have already ruined his chance.

meanwhile, his confession has been replaying in your mind. the idea of him reciprocating your feelings caught you off guard; it was something you never saw coming. after some contemplation, it became apparent to you that renjun really felt apologetic and was filled with remorse. could it be that he genuinely likes you? even if that was the case, you're still unsure whether it's the right move to start something with him.

maybe i should stop overthinking this.

you took a deep breath before releasing a loud sigh, unaware that the boy who had been occupying your thoughts, stood right in front of you.

“y/n,” you looked up to see renjun. you waited for him to speak, but it seemed like he was having a mental struggle, debating whether to say what was on his mind. he mustered up the courage to ask if you were willing to give him a chance. staring at him with an unreadable expression, he didn't know how to interpret the situation. was it a bad time to talk?

“why?” you finally asked. although renjun was hesitant, he answered.

“i was wondering if you already thought about what i said? i mean… i can wait if you’re still thinking about it.”

“if i say no, are you going to leave me alone?” your heart sank a little when his face fell. he didn't respond right away.

“well, if that’s what you want, i guess i would have to…”

“renjun,”

“yeah?”

“let’s give it a try.” his expression became hopeful.

“really?”

“yes. you said you liked me back, i’ll hold onto that for now. i just hope you won’t let me down.”

“i won’t.” a smile spread across his face as he enveloped you in a tight embrace. returning the hug, you savored the comforting feeling of his arms around you. "thank you for taking a chance on me," he said, the sincerity evident in his words and the embrace.

“i’m happy for them, i really am. but watching these two stare at each other lovingly is sickening.” giselle said, faking disgust.

“at least they’re just staring… you wouldn’t believe how clingy renjun gets when they’re at the dorm.” chenle remarked, your friends swiftly turned their heads around.

“spill.”

“he’s always attached to her, literally. there’s no other way to describe it.”

“huh… i thought it would be the other way around.”

“yeah, no. but i guess that’s just right, considering he didn’t give her the best treatment at first.”

giselle and karina chuckled at the revelation. intrigued by the dynamic between you and renjun.

"love can do wonders, huh?" jaemin grinned, nudging jeno.

"guess he learned his lesson," karina added, raising an eyebrow. "who would've thought?"

as the group watched the both of you, they exchanged knowing looks. it was obvious that renjun had gone through some changes, moving from his initial standoffish ways to being glued to the person he wasn't so kind to initially.

“i have the dorm all to myself this weekend.” you raised your brow at him.

“and what are you insinuating?”

“you know…” he continued with a suggestive look.

“i’m studying for finals week," you deadpanned.

“which is exactly what i’m suggesting. i find myself more productive when i’m with you.”

“quite the contrary. we don’t get anything done when we study together.”

“don't you want my hugs and kisses?” he pouted.

“not when i’m busy trying to finish school-related activities.”

“fine, i’ll behave.”

“you always say that. i don’t believe you anymore.”

“maybe i’ll be less clingy if you pay more attention to me. you’re always busy, you don’t have time for your boyfriend.”

“renjun, unlike you, i have to put in extra effort into studying to get good grades. i’m not as smart as you are.”

“excuses.” you rolled your eyes.

“you’re so adorable,” you cooed, grabbing his face for a quick peck. “i never imagined you to be the touchy and clingy type.”

“baby, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“like what?” you inquired with a playful smile.

“like how great i am at using my hands to make someone feel really good,” he whispered in a lower voice.

“oh?” you raised an eyebrow, smirking playfully.

“yeah. apparently, i give one heck of a shoulder massage,” you burst out laughing at his endearing silliness. the sound of your laughter made renjun pause and smile, as he took his time to observe you. suddenly, he felt an overwhelming surge of happiness. taking your hand gently in his, he pressed a tender kiss to your fingertips, capturing your attention and prompting you to look at him.

"you make me feel the happiest. i love you," he confessed, the sincerity resonating in his words.

your stomach flipped, the euphoria of hearing those three words from him for the first time washing over you. then it hit you- the unexpected journey with renjun had led you to a place you never envisioned. he, too, held the key to your happiness.

“i love you too.” you closed the distance between you two and your lips met his. as he wrapped an arm around your waist, you let yourself fall to his embrace, deepening the kiss.

renjun was met with the realization that while you fell for him first, he descended later, but with an intensity that surpassed a thousand falls.

이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN? [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you realize you never completed your most important new year's resolution: losing your virginity. luckily, your roommate is willing to help you out with that

WARNINGS ⨯ smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first work of the year!! sorry for taking an impromptu break so suddenly, but my works will still be coming out slowly as of now, so thank you for your patience 🫶

# TAGLIST ! @wonkifangirl @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @jaeyunthejakesim @deobitifull @notevenheretbh1 @jvngw0nlvr @jongszn @ineedsomezzz @haelahoops @seongslutt @fakeuwus @leeheeheeseung @aheewonenthusiast @lprww @wonsbaer @heeseungssidechick @smisworld @rayofsunshineeee @starrypen @heerated @snwosgf @nycapartmentsworld @sooyeonvida @dear-hoon @nikiiitties

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.” You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

-

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible, but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stiffles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up at going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skins are sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

YIPPPEEEE

spf 23

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: for as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?

genres: smut, fluff, people that kinda know each other to lovers, summer au, lifeguard au..

warnings: minors dni, MENTIONS OF UNIVERSITY DURING SUMMER, sunghoon in water, sunghoon on ice, sunghoon

word count: 31,818 .. even more sorry than last time.

playlist: kiss nct dojaejung, obvious ariana grande, safety net ariana grande

author's note: lmk ur thoughts (positive / negative / sunghoon) i'd love to hear. to beta bestie @asahicore u da best MUSIC DJ EMMAAA. i hope u have a good time reading, lord knows this has been a long time coming.. ok enjoy &lt;;333

It’s the hottest day of the last summer of your life. 

The sun’s rays coat your skin in a film of sticky sweat and sunscreen. Crisp white clouds hang in the sky, drifting overhead. Yunjin complains about the temperature as if you and Chaewon aren’t outside with her.

If you strain your ears over yelling children and raucous laughter, you can just about hear a Top 40 playlist looping Cupid and Dua Lipa songs through age-weakened speakers. What holds your attention the most, though, is the blond by the pool. He leans back on his hands with pretty fingers spread out behind him. He’s been lifeguarding at the public pool for more summers than you care to count but he’d never looked like this while he did it. 

Park Sunghoon seems relaxed as he sits on the pool’s edge, kicking his legs in the water and scanning the space. Presumably watching out for kids drowning, or diving, or.. whatever it is lifeguards get up to at work. His voice is deep as he (half-heartedly) yells at a group of kids with water guns to stop running. When did he get so buff?

He’s always been attractive. Always. But this is outrageous. The bleached hair. The toned arms. The sliver of skin you can see peeking out from under his cropped vest. It’s almost too much to take yet you can’t bring yourself to look away. Given the way he turns his head when you catch his gaze — with flushed cheeks and upturned lips — you assume his glow-up has been purely external. 

“Can you believe this might be the last summer we spend here together? Like, this time next year we’ll be graduates.” Yunjin’s sudden statement makes you wish she’d go back to talking about the weather. 

Chaewon’s jaw drops. “Whoa.”

“Is it bad that I’m looking forward to fall?” Yunjin asks. “No offence, YN.” 

This isn’t the first time she’s shared such a sentiment. Last summer and the one before, she’d said something similar before clarifying. She’s excited about her new classes, not about you going back to your apartment a few towns over.

You’re only looking forward to your shared two-bed and Minjeong’s dinners. It pains you to have to thank university for anything, but thank university for giving you something to miss over the holidays. 

“None taken, YJ, but break just started last week.” 

“Our last finals were five weeks ago.”

“Well, you know break doesn’t really start until our girl gets back.” Chaewon leans up in her seat to grin at you. She raises her cup, the tiny puddle of melted slushy shaking a little. “Here’s to the best summer ever!” 

Needing all the affirmation you can get, you entertain her, raising your own cup so the three of you can toast properly. 

“Cheers!”

The next few hours do nothing to affirm your belief in the effectiveness of toasting. Recently hot Sunghoon hasn’t taken his shirt off yet and you’re not sure how many more times you can beg your friends to stay for another half hour in hopes something will happen that causes him to tear the thing off. At this point you’d settle for a simple conversation or even the word hey.

“I’m begging, like, actually, let’s go.” Yunjin groans, sitting up.

“Just let me pee first,” you grumble, attempting to buy more time as you stand up from your lounge chair, packing up your towel and the magazine you never bothered to look at. 

On your walk to the restroom, you see him leaning in the doorframe of the changing rooms with his toned arms crossed over his chest. Perfect. There’s a smile on your face as you approach him and unexpectedly he speaks before you do. 

"He—" He clears his throat, thick brows coming together as he places a big hand on his chest. "Hey."

You let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 

He straightens up his posture and nods his head, blond hair shifting over his forehead from the movement. 

The sounds of the public pool fill the silence stretching over you, though it’s not enough to distract you from the way his eyes trail over your body, landing on your chest as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“I’m Sunghoon,” he eventually introduces, extending a hand for you to shake. 

A smile stretches across your lips when you do, noticing how much bigger his hand is than yours when his fingers wrap around it and cover the whole thing. “I know,” you nod.

“You,” Sunghoon pauses, tilting his head to the side as if considering your words. “Know?” His brows quirk up. 

You hum in response. “We had Spanish together. You sat with.. that kid,” Your hands come up to gesture around your chin and neck. “With the jaw, Jay, was it?” 

He looks at something over your shoulder for a bit while you worry that he didn’t take Spanish and you’ve got the wrong guy, but a laugh rises out of him instead. “Yeah,” he grins. “Jay.” Nods his head.

Despite stuttering his way through the conversation, Sunghoon makes you laugh as he tells you about how he didn’t realise he’d have to swim on the job and almost drowned trying to save a kid in the deep end. He seems more confident after seeing that his story was well received though he still fidgets with his hands, and can’t hold eye contact for more than a second at a time, always looking away and clearing his throat. 

The story was a bit of a ramble, and it might be the most words you’ve ever heard him say all at once before falling quiet, though his pretty lips open and close a few times as if he’s stuck on what to say. “How-” He’s cut off by the sound of someone yelling his name. 

In the pool, a cute (and very tall) kid waving his arms above his head yelling: Quickly! Quickly! makes you laugh, and the way Sunghoon rolls his eyes makes it clear he knows him.

Much to your dismay, the yelling doesn’t stop and you realise you’ll have to make your exit. “I’ll let you get going, but, uh, say hi to Jay for me, okay?” you say, grinning at the way he nods his head, mumbling yeah, of course before you turn around to leave.

Sunghoon’s still standing in the spot you left him in, hands crossed over his chest as he eyes you. Head snapping in the other direction when you look back over your shoulder to call out a: Later, Hoonie, with a wave of your fingers.

Chaewon watches you over her sunglasses with a smirk on her face as you approach. “Who is that?”

You crinkle your nose. “Park Sunghoon.”

At the sound of his name, Yunjin gasps, abruptly sitting up in her chair. “The figure skater?”

“The what?”

At home, you type his name into the search bar and find that the shy boy you’d only met properly some hours ago is something of a celebrity in the skating world. 

You watch YouTube videos of his short programs and feel a swell of pride with each jump he lands. The tiny Sunghoon on the screen carries an air of confidence as he glides across the ice — nothing like the Sunghoon you’d met at the pool today. And definitely nothing like the quiet Sunghoon who’d sit in the back of your 9th grade Spanish class conjugating verbs as his friends got into trouble for talking over the teacher. 

It’s not hard to trip down a rabbit hole, and suddenly every video with his name in the title has a little red bar under the thumbnail as a mark of your affection. It doesn’t take long for you to find Instagram user smartblond, and the blue follow button on his page greets you with the option to follow back, which leaves you feeling a little bad as the pad of your thumb falls onto it unthinkingly. 

Sunghoon’s feed leaves much to be desired. A modest 1 post he’d made 4 years prior, a square photo of himself and Lee Heeseung with bros as the caption. The only comment is from Heeseung who wrote ma boiiii. The tagged photos however tell a different story. 

Thankfully.  

You spend longer than you’d like to admit scrolling through these pictures, grinning and ignoring the way your stomach flips at the sight of the seemingly outgoing boy captured in the pictures posted by his closest friends with wide smiles and middle fingers while trying not to hit like on any of them. Even though you do like them. A lot. Except for the one of him and Bae Sumin at the pool with pretty smiles on their faces, and their arms around each other that she posted 15 weeks ago with the caption lifesaver. A smile spreads on your lips when you see Sumin’s (way more populated) page and the post she made yesterday to celebrate two years with her boyfriend. 

Distraction only reaches you in the form of an alert from your university’s portal app. The words you’ve got new correspondence in your inbox wipe the smile from your face in an instant. While chewing at your lip, you click on the notification and wait for the email to load. 

A pit forms in your stomach while reading four paragraphs offering advice for people who’ve failed their final exams. At the end is a link that you click with squinted eyes. A countdown appears and there are 8 days, 12 hours, 2 minutes and 17 seconds until results are out.

During your next trip to the pool, you hear Sunghoon before you see him and his voice comes out in a cute whine when he speaks. “Why do you guys only wanna hang out here when I'm working?” 

Looking over your sunglasses, you see him running a hand through his hair, looking up from the water at a group of boys you recognise from both high school and his tagged photos, including the very tall kid who’d cut your conversation short the other day. With a wide grin on his face, he slings a towel over his shoulder and calls out something about the concession stand before running for the changing rooms and ignoring Sunghoon’s cries to stop. 

His back flexes deliciously as he wades around the mostly empty pool, chatting to his friends, and in all of your staring you notice Jay’s eyes on you, looking back to Sunghoon after a while and nodding his head not so subtly in your direction.

You look at Yunjin in the lounge chair next to you, who stares at the remnants of your blue raspberry slushy with disgust on her face, finishing off her cherry-flavoured one. “I said thanks when you came back with them, it’s abnormal to want this much recognition over a £1 purchase,” you say defensively, sighing and thanking her again anyways. 

“You should thank Sunghoon’s giant friend,” she says, nodding in his direction. “He came over to me in the line, asked how I knew you, and gave me change when I told him Chaewon introduced us.” 

“Huh,” you say, taking a refreshing sip, the last, before putting your cup down between your chairs. 

“I don’t understand what you see in that insane flavour.” She leans over to put her now empty cup next to yours. “It’s.. unnatural,” she says, shuddering dramatically. 

“It’s the only flavour I like,” you say simply, watching in your peripheral as your new favourite lifeguard (not that you have an old favourite) climbs over the edge of the pool.

The sight of Sunghoon’s lean figure coming out of the pool only makes you regret ever wanting to see him with his shirt off. Water slips from every part of his body in droplets, running from his broad shoulders down his veiny forearms before falling from his pretty fingers onto the ground. This must be the fittest-looking person you’ve ever seen, and Kazuha can do push-ups (one) with you and Chaewon on her back. 

With his wet hair stuck to his forehead, he laughs at something one of his friends said and it’s only when he looks over at you that you’re able to tear your eyes away. 

You miss the sight as soon as it’s gone. 

“That’s absurd,” Yunjin says after a moment. You have no idea what she’s talking about. “Can I open the Skittles?”

You’d forgotten about those. “Go ahead.” 

While rummaging through your bag, Yunjin tells you quietly that Sunghoon’s coming though you barely have a chance to look at him before his shadow casts over the two of you, stark and vivid. With his arms crossed over his chest, Sunghoon towers over you. His red shorts cling onto his hips, so low you can see every inch of muscle definition spanning his stomach where little beads of water stare you dead in the eye. By the time you manage to look up at his face, he has a huge grin stretched over his pretty lips. “Hey, stalker,” he says.

Though his smile falters when you crease your brows, pulling your sunglasses down your nose. “Stalker?” 

“You, uh,” he pauses to sniff, less sure of himself than earlier. “I saw that you followed me on Instagram last night.” 

“You did? And no DM?” 

No DM, he repeats under his breath, visibly confused, and the—“Ohhhh, you wanted to talk to me?” 

“Yeah, that’s why I followed you.”

“Right.” A nod. “And no DM?” Sunghoon seems to like the way you laugh, uncrossing his arms, and puffing his chest out. “So what did you wanna talk about that just couldn’t wait until you saw me again?” 

“I wanted to catch up.”

A sceptical look crosses his face. “Really? Anything specific you wanted to talk about?” 

“Not really. I just think you’re interesting.”

“Me? Interesting?” The mixture of amusement and surprise on his face makes you laugh. 

“Yes, you, interesting.” A saccharine smile spreads across your lips as you swing your legs over the side of your chair. Sunghoon apologises when your ankle grazes his calf. “Very interesting.” 

Sitting like this, your face is so close to his hips you can see the loose thread at the top of his shorts. He seems to notice, taking a step back. Down the bridge of his nose, he watches you through squinted eyes, furrowing his brow and letting a beat pass. “How so?” 

“There’s a lot of reasons, but, for one, you’re the only figure skater I know.”

So quickly you barely see it, Sunghoon’s lips curl into a frown before he presses them together, nodding. “How’s summer treating you?” He changes the subject. 

You let him. “Pretty good,” you say, bringing a hand up to the tied strap of your swimsuit to pull it to the side. “And I’m tanning pretty well, right, Sunghoon?” 

A massive cloud glides across the sky, casting a welcome shadow over the scorching sun. The transition is gradual but relief is immediate and even Sunghoon sighs. You push your sunglasses up to rest in your hair, taken aback, like always, by how bright it actually is outside. Even with the sun covered up, your eyes sting a little without the tint making you squint up at Sunghoon who watches you with an amused smile. 

“Is there something on my face?” you ask. 

“No, nothing like that.” He shakes his head. “It’s just.. nice catching up with you.”

“Yeah. It is.” You return his smile, liking the way his widens. “So, how’s summer trea—” You’re cut off by the same kid as yesterday, yelling “Sunghoooooooooon!” At the top of his lungs. 

“What were you saying?” 

“Uh,” you start, distracted by the kid pointing at Sunghoon, who waves frantically when he realises he’s caught your eye. “You, uh,” you pause, using a finger to point over to the pool. “I think your friend might need you.” 

He turns to look over his shoulder, the sun shining directly on the side of his face when he does, highlighting the pretty mole on his nose that you’ve somehow never noticed. Sunghoon shakes his head and freezing water splashes onto your stomach, making you flinch. A non-committal sound comes out of his mouth as he shrugs, facing you once again. “It’s just Riki.”

Just Riki doesn’t let up. Instead, he enlists the help of a cute cat-eyed boy, clambering onto his shoulders and balancing precariously as he yells and yells at the top of his lungs. 

“Okay, yeah, I gotta,” Sunghoon sighs, using his thumb to motion towards the pool as he walks backwards away from you. He points a long index finger at you before turning around. “I’m coming back,” he says. 

With a huge splash, Riki falls from his friend’s shoulders unceremoniously, his form disappearing for a moment, replaced by a mess of bubbles and long frantic limbs until he resurfaces. 

“I’m not here to play, I’m here to work!” Sunghoon calls out, walking right off the coping and into the water, swimming towards his friends anyway. 

He doesn’t come back. 

That night you stay at Chaewon’s, rifling through old teen magazines and taking quizzes to determine who your ‘celeb bezzie’ is. Answering mostly C’s, the two of you squeal at the prospect of a friendship with Lindsay Lohan. 

Jaehyun’s complaining when you reach the pool and you figure Yunjin and Kazuha must be nearby. Your hunch is correct when you round the corner by the water slide and see the two of them splashing each other in the small pool. He’s standing with his hands on his hips and yelling something about the literal sign that says they can’t be in there right now. The sign is a bright red fold-out thing, saying in bold white letters that the pool is closed for swimming lessons starting at 1:30 p.m. 

“It’s 1:20, you can’t be in here,” Jaehyun groans, raking a hand through his hair. “I know you guys think because we’re friends you can do what you want but the other lifeguards kicked me from the group chat and Sunghoon said it’s all your fault.” 

The mention of Sunghoon makes your ears perk up, and you decide to insert yourself. “What did they do wrong?” 

Jaehyun practically jumps at the sound of your voice next to him and Yunjin calls out for you to get in! “Don’t you dare,” Jaehyun mutters, cutting his eyes. “Whatever it is was bad enough for Mark, Yeri, and Chaeyoung to decide I’m not worthy of LIFESAVERS 2.0 swimming guy emoji, ring float emoji.” 

“If you got kicked because of them, I don’t see why Sunghoon gets to stay.” You tilt your head, stepping back a little when you feel a splash hitting your feet. “His one million-man friend group takes up half of the big pool every day, competing for who can laugh the loudest, and these two are pretty much doing the same thing.” 

“Yes, but Sunghoon’s friends aren’t breaking the rules.” 

“I saw Riki take an ice cream cone from a kid yesterday.”

“That’s not against the rules,” Jaehyun sighs. “And Chaeyoung thinks Sunghoon’s cute, so.” 

“She does?” you ask too quickly. 

“What do you care?” Jaehyun spares you a glance, arching his brow. He seems to undergo some kind of revelation, gasping a little and nodding his head. “So that’s why you guys are here all the time! You totally like that loser.” 

“Sunghoon’s not a loser, he’s hot.”

“Interesting thing to dispute.” 

You roll your eyes. “Do I need to worry about Chaeyoung?” you ask quietly.

“If you’re trying to hook up with Sunghoon I wouldn’t worry about her.”

You hate his response; hate that instead of really answering you, he’s just left you with even more questions. 

And you hate Chaeyoung for falling into your line of sight just as you mention her. 

She leaves the locker room, laughing about something with Yeri, and making you wonder what exactly she wants with Sunghoon. And why she suddenly feels like your competitor.

“And if I’m not?” 

Jaehyun cackles at your suggestion. “You? Not trying to hook up?” 

You can’t come up with a reason for why his words make your chest ache so you shove him with your elbow before jumping into the water with the girls. The sound of Jaehyun groaning and begging you guys to get out of the pool only dissolves the ache and puts a smile on your face.

Yunjin and Kazuha gang up on you for taking so long to join them but the water feels so cool against your skin you can’t help but enjoy it. 

The sound of what you think is Sunghoon’s voice makes you freeze in your spot. “I can’t keep defending you, man,” he sighs. 

At the sound of a whistle blowing, you raise your hands to cover your ears and all three of you whip your heads in its direction. Sunghoon stands next to Jaehyun with a whistle in his mouth, coughing around the metal when he sees you. He smiles, dropping it to rest against his chest. “Oh, hey.” 

“Hi,” you greet, swimming over to the edge of the pool and resting your arms on it, letting your chin find a home against them. Looking up, you see Jaehyun rolling his eyes before walking off in the opposite direction and Sunghoon stares down at you with a smile on his face.

“How are you?” he asks, fidgeting with the whistle like a charm on a necklace. 

“I’m good, how are you?” 

“Good, me too. Uh-your friends,” he pauses, clearing his throat. “I’m teaching lessons here, in five minutes, so I was wondering if you guys could maybe hang out in the main pool or by the slides instead?” he asks. It seems like he’s asking. “Only if you want.” 

“What if we’re here for lessons?” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you guys must be the six-year-olds I’m teaching this afternoon, my bad for assuming.” 

You can’t tell if he was trying to be funny or if that was just something he said for the sake of saying it, but it makes you smile anyway. “You don’t do lessons for grown-ups?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “I teach 6 to 12-year-olds, but Mark teaches adult classes on Saturday mornings if you’re interested.”

You nod, lifting yourself out of the pool, dripping water on the concrete. You’re close enough to Sunghoon to clearly see his jaw tensing, and the way his gaze shamelessly falls to your chest for more than a few seconds. 

“What if I’m interested in a one-on-one lesson?” 

Close enough to see the goosebumps that rise on his skin. He licks his lips, holding your gaze. “I guess we could work something out,” he says, clearing his throat when you rest a hand on his wrist, though he doesn’t look away from you. 

It seems like it’s just the two of you and the sun beating against your skin. And his pulse racing against your fingers. 

An excited wail grounds you, brings you back to the pool. “Sunghoonie! Sunghoonie!” You hear over his shoulder, as a tiny girl with pigtails and a huge grin comes rushing over to you. “Look, I got new goggles, look at my new goggles!” 

You take a step back and Sunghoon gasps, holding her Hello Kitty goggles in his hands, inspecting them carefully while crouching down to her level. In his absence, you see more, equally excited, kids plodding along, babbling to each other, followed by parents with small character backpacks slung over their shoulders. 

Sunghoon chats animatedly with her, nodding and gasping and saying really? at all the right times, in a way that summons butterflies. She giggles and holds her belly laughing when he holds her baby sized goggles over his head, asking if he can try them on, and you need to leave before you burst into tears at how sweet he’s being.

Yunjin and Kazuha beam at you when you look over at them, winking dramatically and giving you silent rounds of applause. Your cheeks burn at the sight, mumbling at them to come on, before turning around to walk away. 

“Hey, YN!” Sunghoon calls out, stopping you in your tracks. He’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, and a small smile on his lips. “See you later, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” You nod. 

The girls have caught up to you by now, Yunjin’s eyebrows waggling suggestively as she links her fingers with yours. “Oh, he is so into you,” Kazuha whispers, wrapping a dripping arm around your shoulders. “Chaewon was right, summer really doesn’t start until you get back.”

In the main pool, you play around with the girls until you’re tired from swimming and the heat, and if it wasn’t for what Sunghoon said, you would have gone home already. You lay back in a lounge chair and close your eyes behind your sunglasses. You could probably fall asleep out here, feeling an odd comfort in the blood-curdling screams and mix of music playing from tiny bluetooth speakers all over the place. 

About five minutes later, you use your fingers to pick out a few pieces of Oreo from Yunjin’s ice cream, deciding they’ll be compensation for having to deal with the sticky dessert trickling down the cone and onto your fingers. Though in this heat, it doesn’t bother you so much.

On your trip back to your seat, you see Heeseung and Sunghoon by the locker room entrance. Standing in the shade, the two of them talk while Sunghoon lets a chunky pair of sunglasses rest on the back of his head, a sight that makes you clench your fist so hard the cone crunches under your fingers. You watch Heeseung’s face split into a grin while he throws his head back laughing, though Sunghoon presses his lips together in a straight line, clearly unimpressed. 

Yunjin jogs over to you, thanking you for the cone and complaining about how stingy Jungwoo’s being with the Oreo pieces these days but taking an appreciative lick anyway, letting her head fall back and a long hum of satisfaction buzz against her lips. “Just go over there and talk to him,” she says after a while. 

“Wow, YJ, thank you. I hadn’t thought of that.” 

She flips you off before walking away.

You don’t mean to catch his eye but he smiles when he sees you, waving when you wave. Heeseung waves too. If Sunghoon had been standing on his own you’d have no problem approaching him, but something about interrupting their conversation puts you off. Heeseung nods at you and calls out your name, inviting you to interrupt them. 

“It’s funny, we were just talking about you,” Heeseung says. You’re not sure how he wants you to respond to that, but Sunghoon looks at him with wide eyes, using his elbow to nudge his oversharing friend. “All good things, of course,” he adds on, raking a hand through his hair. 

“Who could have anything bad to say about you?” Sunghoon asks. 

Out of genuine concern, you ask if they’re okay, which only makes the two of them burst out laughing. Awkward laughter in the form of robotic ha ha has and forced applause. You’re not sure what to make of this, looking back and forth between them with a crease along your brow. High school was probably the last time you talked to Lee Heeseung, but besides the piercings and muscle definition he doesn’t seem to have changed much. 

“How have you been? How’s college?” Heeseung asks after wiping his left eye with the back of his hand. 

“I’ve been good. I saw you graduated last week, congrats!” 

He looks delighted at the mention of his own studies, missing the fact that you’re trying to avoid talking about yours. “Thank you!” he says, beaming. “Do you know what classes you’re taking this year?”

“No.” You shake your head. “You studied music, right?” 

An impossibly brighter grin spreads across his lips, eyes shining with genuine happiness as he nods. “Yeah, I majored in production actually. Best thing I ever did.”

For a while, Heeseung talks about his course though most of it goes over your head as jealousy burns in your stomach. The last three years have gone well enough for you to know that you’re more than just good at your major, so why, like him, can’t you enjoy it too? Right now, you want nothing more than for stupid Heeseung to shut up about his stupid career choices. 

Sunghoon interrupts the conversation, seeming to notice your mild irritation. “Hey, are you okay?” he asks, resting a hand on your shoulder.

He doesn’t seem convinced when you nod your head belatedly, clearing your throat. You do your best to focus on the burn of his hand on your skin and not your jealousy. 

Sunghoon looks over at Heeseung, giving him a look that the older boy takes as an invitation to leave, smiling at the both of you before waving goodbye. 

“What’s the matter?” His voice is much softer now that you’re alone, so comforting that you’re tempted to fall into his chest and tell him everything that’s ever upset you.

“What makes you think something’s the matter?”

“You were staring at Heeseung like you wanted to wipe the stupid smile off his face with a bullet.”  

“Actually, I think he has quite a nice smile,” you admit.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon agrees. “But it’s a little annoying, right? Like how everything just seems to go so well for him no matter what. Perfect guy with a perfect major, it’s a little hard not to be jealous of him when he talks like that.” 

“You don’t like what you study?” 

“It’s not my major I’m struggling with.” He lets out a dry laugh. “What about you?” 

A deep sigh rolls out of you, pulling your shoulders down. “I’m good at it so why stop, you know?” 

“Plenty of people stop things they’re good at.” The response comes quicker than you expect, in a defensive tone that makes you want to slice open his brain and take a look inside. “Sorry, I just mean if something isn’t making you happy, then it’s okay to stop. Right?” 

It doesn’t feel like he’s talking about you. “Right,” you affirm anyway. “It’s just that I only have a year left so the way I see it, I should just deal with it, graduate, and worry next summer instead. Uni sorta freaks me out is all,” you explain, shrugging in a way that you hope looks nonchalant. “I don’t like my course, and I don’t like talking about it, so let’s not talk about it.”

Sunghoon nods. “No talking about uni, got it,” he says, holding an imaginary pen and making a note of your words in the palm of his hand, with a tiny smile on his face that makes your stomach twist. “So, what do you like talking about?”

“Literally anything else.” 

“Look at us, so much in common.” There’s a hesitant look on his face, like he’s questioning his word choice but he smiles when you do, letting out a breathy laugh at the sound of a chuckle slipping out of you. 

“Hey, Sunghoon?” you ask after a beat, tilting your head and continuing when he hums. “Do you work here every day?” 

He shakes his head. “Just Monday through Thursday.”

“So, if I wanna see you, I could just come to the pool on those days?” 

“Yeah.” Even in the shade, it’s hard to miss the way his cheeks flush pink, and he scratches at the back of his neck while stifling a smile. “Exactly.” 

“And if it’s Friday or the weekend, and I wanna see you, I could just text you?” 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” That same smile curves on his lips, gentle, happy. 

You think you’d like that too. 

Sunghoon puts his number in your phone and you send a text so he has yours too.

The sun doesn’t set until late that night, and you spend the better part of the evening in the garden with your mum, catching the last moments of the sun’s rays from a blanket in the grass. The sound of her fingers against the keyboard is like a perfect mechanical OST for the summer romance you’re halfway through. Though knowing that the countdown in your email is set to strike zero in a matter of hours makes it difficult to concentrate on what’s going on in the made up beach town you’re reading about.

After a late dinner, you click the link to watch the countdown hit zero before refreshing the page. The stark white background of the login page stings your eyes in your dark room as you wait for the results page to load with a held breath. All three of your course titles are marked with MP for merit pass. A weight falls from your shoulders only to be replaced with another. 

The family group chat doesn’t seem to share your distress. Your dad hearts the message and sends a gif of Michael Scott clapping, your mum texts back that she’s so proud of her baby, and your older brother says KNEW U COULD DO IT! You throw your phone across the room, hiding your face in your pillow to muffle a scream. 

That night, you dream of graduation. Of crossing the stage and seeing the culmination of four long years on a flimsy piece of paper. The ceremony ends and behind closed eyes, you watch yourself sign your life away to a 9-to-5 in a field you hate, the same your brother had done. Drenched in a cold sweat, the nightmare jolts you awake. 

You spend all day in your room for fear of running into your mother and having to discuss your future.

The day after that, the familiar smell of coffee hits your nose as you walk by a cafe you used to frequent in high school, drowning yourself in hot chocolate in the winter and in sweet frozen lemonades in the summertime. If it wasn’t for your plans of seeing Chaewon you might’ve picked something up for nostalgia’s sake. 

Right when you think about her, she calls you. “Bring me a coffee,” Chaewon says. 

“What?” 

“Can you get me some coffee?” 

Looking over your shoulder, you fully expect to see Chaewon standing behind you or perched in one of the bushes across the street with a pair of binoculars. Her voice rings down the phone at you, at a volume you’re sure you would be able to hear if she was watching you from somewhere. “Hello?” 

“Yes, I’ll do it,” you say, ignoring the chill that runs down your spine and hanging up.

A bell rings above your head when you open the door, the cafe greeting you warmly like it always has. You admire its familiar green walls and the organic curves of its interior, from the sweeping archways to the round tables and chairs. Back then, you must have sat in each of them. 

You think you’re going crazy when you hear Sunghoon saying thanks, and you know you’re going crazy when you actually see him leaving the counter with his fingers wrapped around a vibrant orange iced drink. He doesn’t see you, focusing on the phone in his hand and the straw in his mouth, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat with each sip. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards a table in the far corner, his head moving to the beat of whatever song he’s listening to. He sits in the seat facing away from you, and you stare for so long that the barista has to say excuse me to get your attention. 

After apologising, you order Chaewon’s latte, giving her name over to the barista when she asks and waiting off to the side while she makes it. The whole time, you watch Sunghoon, willing him to look over at you. It doesn’t work.

Not in the way you’d been expecting, at least. Your phone vibrates against your palm.

sh: hey yn! are you doing anything nice today?

You grin at the back of his head. 

yn: seeing chaewon later :) hbu

sh: oh cool i hope you guys have fun!

sh: working later.. closing shift :/ 

When it’s ready, you collect Chaewon’s drink and approach Sunghoon’s table. He’s staring at his phone screen, where you see your conversation over his shoulder — even though it’s been five minutes since he texted you — and have to bite back a smile.

“Hey, you.” The words come out like you intended, light, pleased. 

Sunghoon jumps in his seat anyway, slamming his phone face down on the table and looking up at you. “YN,” he breathes. “Hey.” He wipes his palms on his pants. “What are you doing here?” 

“Same as you, I guess,” you grin, raising the cup in your hand. “Can I sit?” 

“Of course.” A beat passes while you take your seat and Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave you once. 

It’s been a while since you last had a vanilla latte but it’s just as sweet as you remember when you try it, the ice doing a good job at keeping you cool. You tilt your head at the boy in front of you, checking the date on your phone. “It’s Friday today.” 

“Yeah…” Sunghoon squints at you, nodding his head slowly. “Oh, it’s Friday,” he says, seeming to figure out what you were getting at despite the lack of context. “There’s a girl I normally coach on Mondays at the rink, Hyein, but she couldn’t make it this week so we moved her session to this afternoon. To be clear though, I don’t normally work on Fridays. At the rink or otherwise.”

You nod, taking another sip of Chaewon’s coffee and angling the cup so he can’t see her name written on the side of it. 

“So, if you wanted to see me, on a Friday, or over the weekend, you could still text me about that.” 

Smiling, you nod. “Good to know. Do you work Monday to Thursday at the rink as well?” you ask, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sunlight spills through the tiled windows, warming your skin through the glass. Over his shoulder, the bell by the door rings incessantly and under the sun’s rays, flecks of amber glow in his eyes that crinkle at the corners, a dimple peeking at you as he shakes his head.

“I have my own training at 6 on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and then I teach kids classes on Monday and Tuesday nights, and I see Hyein on Monday mornings.”

“6 a.m.?”

“No, our sessions start at 10.”

“I mean your training, you start at 6 in the morning?” 

“Oh.” He nods. “Yeah,” he says, shrugging. 

“Fuck, that’s so early, I could never.” 

“I mean, that was just my training block during school. 6 to 7:45, so I’d go to the rink, back home to shower, and go to school when I could.” A beat passes before he speaks again, using his straw to stir his drink. “But that was mainly during, like, off-season. If I had competitions coming up then I’d spend entire days at the rink, or dance class, in the gym, so I missed a lot of school.” 

You nod. “I remember.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes flash with something, as his brows knit together for barely a second. He smiles. “Anyway, I did try later sessions when I started college but I was so used to my early sessions that I’d still wake up at 5 a.m. even though my classes didn’t start until the afternoon.” 

There’s a sparkle in his eyes when you ask about Hyein, and excitement in his voice while he tells you all about her. About how much potential she has, even though she doesn’t seem to realise it; about how much better she’s gotten in the year since they met and how similar she is to him at her age.

After a very slow walk with Sunghoon, you reach Chaewon’s place. It doesn’t hit you that you’re empty-handed until she opens the door and frowns at you, asking where you’ve been and what happened to her coffee.

It starts to feel like you’re running out of friends to take to the pool when, a few days later, the entire girls chat is too busy to come along, and Lee Jeno from an engineering lecture you took two years ago sits in the chair next to you, lazily flipping through an old copy of Dazed Magazine. Even if only as a last resort, Jeno makes good company seeing as you like the funny Tiktoks he shows you and the way he sneaks vodka into your slushy behind your towel. 

For a while, you pretend not to care about Sunghoon’s absence in hopes he’ll spawn from the pool’s deep end. Surprisingly, he does not. And just like that, an ugly pattern is formed: you go to the pool, wait all day for Sunghoon, and eventually, stumble back home in a daze from alcohol or sunstroke. 

It takes four and a half more, uneventful, Sunghoonless visits to the pool to leave you trying not to tear your hair out at Chaewon’s dining table. 

Kazuha serves as a good distraction though, making you quiz her on the details of Kim Yeri’s driving licence so she can come out to the club with you guys. Between the two girls looking nothing alike and Kazuha thinking a March birthday makes her a Sagittarius, you’re not hopeful. 

When she goes to the toilet, you check your phone just to be sure Sunghoon hasn’t texted in the twelve minutes since you last checked. And like before, the only messages you find are from Yeonjun asking if you’re “tryna slide” later. You aren’t, and haven’t been for the last two weeks he’d been asking. Completely unrelated to a certain blond lifeguard, of course. You sigh, thinking of Sunghoon again and why he hasn’t texted yet.

There’s nothing stopping you from sending the first text (today) — except for the fact that you’d been texting back and forth until you accidentally aired him at the start of the week. Unless you’re trying to hook up, you never send the first message. And as much as you would like to hook up with Sunghoon, there’s something about him that’s too endearing to only experience in the quiet of a backseat at 3 a.m., or in your room when no one’s home.

Four shots and a lot of egging on seem to be all you need to make your way to Sunghoon’s DMs. You let Chaewon and Kazuha debate over what your opening message should be, and with shaky thumbs, you type out something simple. Much to your friend’s (and your own) disappointment, you eventually settle on hey handsome. 

sh: hiiiiiiiiiii

For a while, you watch as Sunghoon types and stops and types and stops before his message comes through. 

sh: pretty

You can’t help the giggle that comes out, clearing your throat when Chaewon raises a brow at you. The two of you hold eye contact for a beat before erupting into a fit of laughter. 

you: i haven’t seen you at the pool in a while and i was wondering if you’re ok..

sh: yn.. have you been at my workplac e waiitng for me to show up again ???

you: are you ok.

sh: i think it’s cute that you did that, my friends tol d me they saw you there every day this week

you: why are your friends reporting my whereabouts to you..

sh: i asked them to, also im good i just took some days off

sh: back monday am i gonna see u then?

you: or we could just see each other on one of your off days?

On the left side of the screen, you watch animated ellipses dance above the keyboard before halting, though no message comes to replace them and it doesn’t take you long to figure out that the message hasn’t come through because your phone is frozen. 

Right?

You let out a laugh at your stupidity while Chaewon looks at you like you’re insane, turning off your phone and letting it sit for a bit before turning it back on. Wasting no time, you go straight to Instagram and pull up the DM thread where the word seen sits underneath your last message, laughing at you. 

Perplexed by what seems like your first rejection ever, you’re not quite sure how to move on so you send a text to the group chat (mainly for Yunjin, the only one who isn’t present). Yunjin replies with a message suggesting Sunghoon’s phone died. In the chair opposite, Chaewon suggests maybe he died. Jaehyun brings you more shots to cope with your heartache and you clutch your stomach laughing when he squirts lime juice into his eye.

Because your friends don’t respect you, you end up in the middle seat when the Uber arrives; sandwiched between Chaewon and Kazuha, drinking as much vodka as you can stomach from the younger girl’s flask while she mutters March 5th, Taurus over and over again. 

All that hard work was done in vain, though; when you reach the club Kazuha insists on being the first to go up in line, and tears start streaming when the bouncer asks what part of Seoul she was born in. Yeri’s ID gets confiscated and the four of you pile into another Uber and head to your backup plan, which you only learn about when the car pulls up.

Living in another city for uni means you’ve never partied with Sunghoon’s friends before — beyond walking by each other in a club — and some combination of excitement and alcohol makes your stomach heat up as you think about seeing him again.

Nishimura Riki’s family home is a giant structure that takes up more room than what’s probably necessary. There’s a massive fountain in the middle of the driveway shooting a stream, out of the mouth of what you think is a lion, into its main bed of water. The grand front door has banners criss-crossed over it saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM SUNOO! Before you reach it, the door swings open and Jay’s jaw is even sharper than you remember when you see him so close. He grins at you and your friends, whooping obnoxiously at the sight of Jaehyun, dapping him up before waving awkwardly at you, Chaewon and Kazuha. You watch him lean over to Jaehyun and ask if that chick’s okay, while not so subtly pointing at the youngest of you all. 

When you look at her, black streaks of mascara tear through her blush like a knife though she wears a bright smile as she eyes Jay like a predator. You nudge her in the ribs and make a mental note to find a bathroom to help her fix her makeup. She frowns when you take her hand and enter the house, leaving Chaewon with Jaehyun and Jay, the three of which chat easily with one another.

Upstairs in the main bathroom, you kneel on the floor between Kazuha’s legs, gently running a makeup wipe over her face while she sits on the lid of the toilet babbling about Jay. “He’s the one,” she says determinedly. “I mean, he was worried about me.. he barely knows me and he was asking if I was okay. Like, how did he know I’d been upset?” You wonder if Kazuha has seen her face in the last half hour. Or if she knows why you insisted on taking her makeup off. 

“Right,” you nod, knowing it’s easier to agree with a drunk Kazuha than face an argument.

“It’s a feeling. Like, sometimes you just have to look through the eyes of your soul, and everything will work out.”

It’s amazing to you that she can say the things she says without laughing. But there’s a finality in her tone that makes you hope she’s right. 

With Kazuha all cleaned up, you’re able to focus on how crammed the house actually is. There are people in every room of the house, sitting on the porch, in the backyard. People are everywhere and you’re not sure you’ll ever manage to reunite with your friends. In favour of getting to know Jay, Kazuha presses a kiss to your cheek and runs off in the opposite direction. You head for the kitchen knowing that Chaewon will most likely be in there somewhere, batting her lashes at a tall graduate in hopes to score a free smoke. 

People are grinding and hanging off one another in the hall and the living room, making out by the stairs, and in what looks like the only empty spot in the kitchen Sunghoon leans against the counter, taking generous gulps from something in a red cup. Judging by his smart trousers and pretty black cardigan, Sunghoon has also developed a personal style in the time since you’ve last been home. A dent forms in Sunghoon’s cheek when he sees you, a sweet crinkle in his eyes as he says hi! 

You can’t figure out whether you should hug him or not but he looks so sweet with his wide smile and flushed cheeks that your arms widen of their own accord. His embrace is gentle, wrapping you up in a mixture of toned arms, soft cotton, liquor, and something light, floral, you think. 

“Can I fix you something to drink?” Sunghoon asks quietly, you only just hear him before he lets you go. “I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he says, reaching over the counter to grab a cup for you. 

“Yeah, I didn’t either.” 

“I was your backup plan?” 

“Oh, come on.” You nudge his shoulder with your hand as he screws the cap back on a bottle of lemonade. “I wouldn’t use those words. If I’d known about the party you would’ve been the plan.” 

“I thought you wouldn’t use those words.”

“You’re using those words,” you say, grinning when he laughs. 

You both go back and forth on it for a while, as Sunghoon tries to find Malibu in the mess of bottles cluttering the countertop. A wide grin spreads across his face when he does and you watch him fill the empty space in your cup before handing it to you. 

The first sip is syrupy sweet on your tongue, forcing an appreciative hum out of you. “So good,” you say through a dreamy sigh, shaking your head before taking another gulp. 

From his nose, he lets out a breathy laugh, his lips quirking up at the corners as he watches you. “It’s good to know my bartending classes are paying off.” 

“Have you ever considered a recipe book?” you ask, putting the cup down next to your phone, looking up at Sunghoon who seems to seriously consider this for a while before nodding. 

Almost experimentally, he rests his hand on your hip. “I’m sorry about earlier,” he tells you, holding you a little closer when he sees that you’re okay with it. 

You tilt your head at him, pretending not to remember the way he’d left you on read. “What happened earlier?” 

“On.. iMessage,” he starts, trailing off at the end though he continues when you nod. “I’m not good at talking to pretty girls.”

Despite not fully believing him, there’s a sincerity in his voice that makes your stomach flutter. “Lucky for you, I’m very good at talking to pretty boys.” 

You can’t tell if he’s flustered or drunk, but his cheeks redden after you speak. 

“Pretty boys, me?” 

“Who else?” 

Sunghoon’s laugh comes out in ha ha ha’s, and if you couldn’t see the way his eyes crinkled up you might have thought he was faking it.

For a moment, his gaze flickers between your eyes and mouth, his tongue darts out to wet his lips, and he speaks. “I don’t want you thinking I’m not interested or anything.” His voice is low, almost too quiet for the cramped space where Me and Your Mama bounces off the walls and rowdy kids constantly bump into you. 

With his hand still burning through your dress, he nudges you, turning you both around to take your place. Your ass rests against the edge of the countertop and the drunk students bump into him instead. “I’m just.. still figuring out how to stop being so shy all the time,” he says, using his thumb to lift the fallen strap of your dress.

You’re having a tough time believing him. If this is what being so shy looks like for Sunghoon, you’re terrified to see him being confident. 

The heat of his lingering hand against your bare shoulder only leaves you drawing a blank. Part of you feels silly for saying that you’re very good at talking to pretty boys. You’re way out of your depth right now.

“But you,” he trails off, looking between your eyes and lips again. His hand starts to tremble against your waist. “You make it so hard.” 

“I do?” you ask dumbly, at a complete loss for words, trying not to read too much into his word choice. Why, anyone could say that word, hard, and not mean anything by it, it’s a word after all. An adjective, you think. 

Get out of your head. 

“Mm,” Sunghoon nods solemnly. “You have no idea.”

Three people nudge past you, each one shoving into him harder than the last; he looks thankful when you suggest going outside. His fingers brush against yours before he pulls them away, turning around to head for the garden immediately. 

The smell of smoke spikes through the fresh air, strong enough to make your head swim as Sunghoon closes the back door behind you. “Wow,” you whisper, looking around. It’s like stepping into a whole new party, with slow R&B pumping out into the summer heat. The garden spills out way beyond what your eyes can see, glowing with twinkling fairy lights and excited chatter.

“I know, right.” 

There’s a two step staircase in the centre that you follow Sunghoon up, mumbling an apology to the couple whose makeout sesh you had to break up to do so. Both of your footsteps crunch against the stone path that splits the grass, and — at Sunghoon’s request — you tell him everything that led you to this party tonight. Leaving out all of the overthinking that went into the text you eventually sent him of course.

“Wait, how old is Kazuha?” 

“21, she’s just waiting on her new ID coming in the mail.” 

“What happened to her old one?” 

“I think she’s like.. 13 or something in her old photo, and we didn’t get in last week either ‘cause the bouncer didn’t think it was her,” you pause. “Or she just looked too young in the photo. I’m not sure.”

You can hear Sunghoon humming along to the SZA song that’s playing, tilting his head at your words. His brows knit together for a beat, and he has to grab you by the forearm to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, as he maintains his grip on you. “Thanks,” you say through a breath, trying to focus on anything other than his touch. 

“Let’s sit, yeah?” 

Sunghoon rests his arm around your shoulders when you nod, keeping you upright as you walk slowly towards the back of the garden. “I don’t know where you guys go out, but one time, we put Riki in a dress and gave him Hwang Yeji’s ID.”

“And then stayed home?” The mental image makes you cackle, getting funnier with each second you dwell on it, but your breath catches in your throat when you look up at him, shaking his head as best as he can while laughing. The way his head falls back, showing off the column of his neck and angle of his jaw forces you to screw your eyes shut to stop the thoughts of kissing him there. 

“And then took him to the club with us and got him to buy our first round.”

With each thing he shares about that night, it grows more and more unbelievable, leaving your jaw on the floor as he leads you around a timber shed (that houses a hot tub) to a big swingy chair thing. “I’ll find the photos in a sec,” he smiles. “Let me hold your cup while you sit.” 

The spot provides about as much privacy as you figure a packed house party could afford. Not that you need privacy to be endeared by Sunghoon or anything. You take him up on his offer, sitting down and watching as he ignores the phone ringing in his pocket, handing you back your drink. Even though you’re not thrilled about the interruption, you tell him he should at least check who it is. 

“Jungwon?” He flinches, yanking the phone away from his ear. Jungwon’s voice is so loud you can hear him despite the distance. “Yeah I got it, I’m at the swing outside.” The call ends there and Sunghoon still doesn’t sit down and neither of you speaks. 

Blinking fairy lights are strung neatly around the swing’s frame. Only a few of the bulbs are working, but together they produce enough light for you to see the sun-bleached blue of the cushion you’re sitting on, and the way Sunghoon’s looking straight at you. You smile. He doesn’t budge. Instead, he worries his bottom lip with his teeth for a while, completely spaced out, until a broad-shouldered child arrives. 

Sunghoon daps him up and your brows raise when he pulls a short, flat bottle of vodka from his back pocket to give to Jungwon. “How much do I owe you?” he asks, taking the bottle. 

“For the drink or for the lifelong tab you and Riki have been racking up?” 

Chuckling, Jungwon shakes his head and points his thumb at Sunghoon. “Don’t you just love that sense of humour?”

The two boys share a look, and Jungwon nods in understanding. He affectionately pats Sunghoon’s bicep, face lighting up in awe. “Wow!” he gasps, turning to glance at you. “Have you felt the muscles on this guy? I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” With wide eyes, he nudges Sunghoon in your direction. 

Despite his apparent indifference towards Jungwon’s attempts at hyping him up, Sunghoon comes closer to you, letting you feel his arm anyway. He flexes his bicep — all firm, sculpted muscle through his soft cardigan — under your fingers in a way that spreads fire in your stomach. Unintentionally, you catch his gaze and your breath gets stuck in your throat. A quiet laugh slips from his lips as he puts his arm down. 

It’s hard not to think about what Jungwon had said about growing up, and even harder not to study him to figure out his age. His outfit is similar to Sunghoon’s; loose pants and a knitted cardigan which does nothing to help you make an estimate. Not being able to buy his own booze tells you that he’s not your age, his wide eyes and round cheeks only make him seem like a child, but his height and broad shoulders throw you off.

“How old are you?” you ask, giving in to your curiosity. 

“21,” he says, too quickly. “.. in two years.” 

He lingers for a bit to hype Sunghoon up some more; not so subtly bringing up his great qualities, like his considerate nature and unwavering dedication. Though Sunghoon’s “never ending” patience wears out and he asks him to leave. With a nod, Jungwon waves goodbye before sprinting back towards the house. Sunghoon laughs watching his friend and sinks into the seat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours for a beat before he closes his legs and rests his arms over the back of the chair.

“Wow,” you grin, leaning into his side. “Figure skating legend Park Sunghoon buys alcohol for kids.” 

He shrugs. “I’m not a legend.” 

You raise a brow, a smirk playing at your lips. “That’s the part you’re disputing?”

“Well, the other part is true,” he says, chuckling though unable to hide the flash of discomfort in his eyes. “If you consider a 19-year-old a kid.” 

“You’re way too humble.”

“Anyone could be good with the right coach, and I have, like, the most supportive parents ever so they help me a lot.”  

“Well, yeah, probably, but even then, your parents aren’t the ones skating, you are,” you point out. 

Sunghoon deflates, sighing heavily. “Can we talk about something else?” He takes a sip from his cup in a silent plea for you to drop it. When his eyes meet yours, his lips press into a flat smile and the soft lighting brings out the dimple in his cheek. 

You nod, using your hand to push his hair away from his forehead. The flat smile spreads across his face as you play with his light hair, that’s somehow silky smooth under your fingers despite the bleach. It’s a little messy when you move your hand, sitting over his thick brows in a way that, when paired with his boyish grin, makes him look younger. 

A dull thump startles both of you as a couple jog away from the shed with linked hands and no regard for you or Sunghoon. Neither of you bother trying to hide your amusement when you meet each other’s eyes, laughing hard enough to make the swing sway. 

“I’m sorry,” you say after calming down — maybe too late. 

He shakes his head. “You don’t have to be.”

The smile on his face is soft, sincere, but does nothing for the guilt you feel over stressing him out — your lips tug into a frown.

“Hey,” Sunghoon whispers and his forehead is warm against yours when he nudges you, grinning at the way you giggle when he pulls away. “I’m not upset or anything.” he pauses. “I don’t think I’m upset or anything, I’m just tired, you know. I spend a lot of time talking about skating during the day and there’s, like, a million and one other things I’d rather talk about right now.”

His honesty assuages your guilt and piques your curiosity. “Yeah?” you ask, arching a brow. Sunghoon nods. “Other things like..” 

He hesitates, caught off by the suggestiveness in your tone, by the way your hand grazes his knee before resting low on his thigh. A gulp echoes in his throat. “Uh, like..” His voice trails off. 

There’s a flutter in your chest as a smile tugs at your lips. “Why don’t we start with those pictures of Riki at the club?” 

“Riki at the club,” he repeats, nodding his head. “I can do that.” 

Sunghoon’s arm falls around your shoulders when you nestle into him, close enough now that his scent hits you effortlessly. A tiny square in his camera roll expands under his thumb, showing you Riki in a tight black halter dress with his hair grown out and styled in neat curls. There’s a boxy grin spread across his lips while he holds Yeji’s ID next to his face. In the next picture, he crouches between Shin Ryujin and Lee Chaeryeong while the three of them make kissy faces for the camera. “And then he had two shots of Fireball and passed out in a booth so we had to carry him home.” 

A laugh bubbles in your throat at the sight of Riki hunched over in a booth with his head on the table, and tears start to spill when you watch the video of Heeseung stumbling down the street, accidentally letting Riki slip off his back and onto the concrete. 

Out of nowhere, Sunghoon’s eyes practically bulge out of his head; an expression you’ve only seen on Kazuha whenever she suspects she left her flat iron on at home. Dread settles in your stomach as you brace yourself for what he might say next. “Just give me a minute,” he says, his words holding an urgency that only fuels your nerves. “I need to text someone.” 

Sunghoon thinking about talking to someone else while you’re trying to get to know him isn’t your favourite thing. In fact, it feels worse than what you imagine might happen if Kazuha actually does leave her flat iron on one day — because it shuts off automatically after 15 minutes.

You try hiding your disappointment but you can feel your lips drooping at the corners as he angles his phone away from you, deep in thought about this message he so urgently has to send. Whatever, you think. Couldn’t care less.

At long last, he finishes typing and pulls air through his teeth before putting his phone back in his pocket, drumming his nails against the seat until your phone goes off in your lap. In a fit of Kazuha-inspired absurdity, you want Sunghoon to feel bad about his lack of manners, so you ignore the notification despite your burning curiosity.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” he asks, his gaze fixed on you expectantly. 

You shake your head. “It can wait.” 

A frown creases Sunghoon’s brow and you hate it; checking your phone immediately to find two texts from the boy sitting next to you.

sh: hey yn! sorry i took so long

sh: if it’s not too late do u wNt to go on a date with me next saturday?

After six days of exchanging Spotify links with Sunghoon over text, Saturday rolls around, and the doorbell chimes earlier than you’d been expecting it to. You call out that you’ll get the door, grab your bag and bolt down the stairs. With a hand on the door handle, you catch your breath, an act that seems pointless when you see Sunghoon through the glass. The door creaks open and his neck snaps in your direction, jaw falling to the floor. 

He waves. 

Your greeting is followed only by silence, your Hey, Sunghoon, dissipating into the sticky summer heat as he chews on his cheek, letting his eyes scan your body over and over. If he didn’t look so nervous you might have offered to pose for a picture. “How are you?” you ask, locking the door behind you and double-checking that you did lock it before tossing your keys into your purse. 

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair. “And I love your dress,” he adds. “Very pretty.”

“Yeah?”

Sunghoon nods and suddenly, your group FaceTime call with Chaewon, Minjeong, and Yunjin feels like two hours well spent. 

While you tried on every summer outfit in your wardrobe for them to judge, Minjeong gave enthusiastic reactions to Sunghoon’s tagged photos, or, rather, to Mark in Sunghoon’s tagged photos but even she was struck by the outfit you settled on. The pretty floral dress that sits at the middle of your thighs that Sunghoon can’t seem to look away from. Hopefully, you’ll remember to thank them appropriately. 

You follow him to his car where he opens the passenger door for you. Struck by the fact that this is the first time anyone’s done that for you, and the sound of his hand rattling against the metal, you sit down, beaming up at him as he closes the door. Sunghoon’s car is neat, and tidy, and smells pleasantly of the new car scent Little Tree that hangs, completely still, from his rearview mirror. Through the clean windscreen, you watch him walk around the front of the car with pursed lips. 

“You like ice cream, right?” he asks when he sits down, looking over at you nervously. 

“Who doesn’t like ice cream?” 

Sunghoon takes you to a little old diner themed ice cream spot with checkerboard floors and a handful of plush vinyl booths. Some of the walls have cursive LED signs that you can’t quite make out and a great big jukebox in the back corner plays What Makes You Beautiful. 

It doesn’t surprise you that Sunghoon is quiet when it’s just you guys, but you can tell that he’s trying his best. He listens attentively to everything you have to say, nodding his head and asking thoughtful questions at all the right times; he makes you laugh more than you ever have. He practically lights up when you bring up his friends. 

“Your friends are so cute,” you say with a smile, thinking of the change Riki had given Yunjin to buy those slushys the other day. 

“If you knew my friends you wouldn’t think that,” Sunghoon says, a fond smile that goes against his words spreading on his face at the mention of them. “Except Jake,” he corrects. “Jake is so cute, yes.” 

“I don’t think I know which one he is,” you admit. “I know Heeseung, I know Jay, Jungwon, and Riki..” you trail off, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his lower lip.

“Jake is the cute one,” he frowns. “You’ll know him when I show you.” Sunghoon takes his phone from his pocket, scrolling for a while. “I’m sorry, I can’t find a normal photo of all seven of us.” 

“Just show me whatever,” you say, looking up at him and the smudge of ice cream on his bottom lip.

Without thinking, you reach over the table, using your thumb to wipe it away. Sunghoon’s cheeks immediately flush with pink and he gulps watching you suck the ice cream from the pad of your finger.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy, while turning his phone towards you to show the most absurdly staged photograph you think you’ve ever seen. “So, uh, Jake is.. he’s the one holding Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo’s posing in front of Jay.” Sunghoon hands you his phone when he’s done talking.

You use the opportunity to examine the picture. 

Jake (so cute) really does hold Heeseung up by his hair, and Sunoo (also so cute) shows the camera his pretty side profile and a thumbs up. Some other things stick out to you in the photo, a laugh making its way out of you as you notice that Jungwon isn’t there but Jay holds up a printed picture of him in his right hand. Riki sits between Jay and Jake, wearing a concerned expression about something going on off-camera. Sunghoon is in the back, holding what looks like a yoga pose on the back of the couch they’re sitting on. 

Happily, you let Sunghoon tell you more about his friends until the sun starts to set and the backs of your thighs stick to the vinyl seat. Not quite ready to say goodbye, you ask Sunghoon if you can go on a walk together. He seems into the idea, nodding his head and smiling down at you. 

Walking aimlessly, the two of you maintain a neutral silence (not uncomfortable, not particularly comfortable either, just quiet), and pretend not to notice the way the backs of your hands touch, each bump longer than the last though amounting to nothing. 

It’s not until comforted by the smell of chemically treated water that you realise how close to the pool you are. You follow Sunghoon around a corner and see the locked gates, wondering if he’d brought you this way on purpose or just out of habit. 

“Wish it was open,” you say off-handedly, not really meaning anything by it. Like telling the person you sit beside on the first day of class that you’re so tired even though you had the best night of sleep in your life. 

Sunghoon isn’t beside you when you look over at him, he’s a few paces behind you, standing by the gates. A mischievous smile spreads on his lips as he holds his keys in his hand, dangling them. “It could be.” 

“Are we allowed to do this?” you ask nervously, watching Sunghoon twist his key in the lock. 

“Allowed to?” he repeats, tilting his head as though the concept is foreign to him. “No, I don’t think so.” A satisfying click sounds as the lock comes undone and Sunghoon pushes the gate open with a huge grin on his face as he gestures for you to go inside first. “After you.” 

He follows you in, shutting the gate behind him and holding out a hand for you to take; you lock your fingers with his and decide that you never want to let go. Not even after a thin layer of sweat forms between your palms. 

The space seems so large when it’s empty like this, with the parasols closed and the lack of screaming children. Streetlights cover the area in a dim orange haze, turning it into a fuzzy dreamscape. The pool itself seems so small when you see it covered up, nothing like the ocean-wide abyss you remember it being when you were young, racing with Chaewon, or pretending like you were only playing around when you tried to drown Jaehyun. 

“Do you wanna get in?” Sunghoon asks, his soft voice interrupting your thoughts. 

You don’t hesitate to nod. 

One night a week, the pool stays open until after dark, but you’ve never been. So when the mechanised pool cover whirs open after Sunghoon flips the switch, you’re shocked by the lights that illuminate the still water. It makes sense that the pool would have some form of lighting for safety, but you hadn’t expected the yellowing fixtures set in the tiled walls to shine so beautifully.

“Come on,” he says, taking you by the hand again, approaching the water. 

A part of you wants to protest when he lets go, but the words catch in your throat as he pulls his shirt over his head. Having spent the better part of most summers poolside, the sight of shirtless Sunghoon isn’t a new one though you find yourself breathless all the same. It’s different tonight but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

Worried you’ll break the spell, you can’t bring yourself to speak. Worried you’ll open your mouth and the moment might slip out from under you. These worries, however, are no match for Sunghoon’s slim waist which leaves your mouth forming an O at the sight. 

“Wow,” you whisper, awestruck. 

Sunghoon laughs, nervously, running a hand through his hair and using the other to hold his shirt over his stomach. “Don’t do that,” he says under his breath. He drops the shirt. The rest of his clothes follow, quickly leaving him in only his tight-fitting black boxer briefs that you struggle to look away from. 

An odd feeling starts to creep in, causing a fire in your belly — obviously from the sweet cider you had earlier, nothing at all to do with Sunghoon. Or his sculpted torso. Or his face, with his soft smile, and sparkling eyes. No one’s ever looked at you like this before.

“What are you thinking about?” 

Those shoulders. Those lips. Kissing those lips. You gulp. “Nothing.” 

Even though he doesn’t look like he believes you, he doesn’t press you on it. Instead, he smiles. Sunghoon turns his back to you, walking towards the pool’s edge to dip a pointed toe into the water. You like the way he hums, nodding his head as if it’s just to his liking. 

“Feels good?”

“Perfect,” he grins, stepping into the pool. 

A splash makes the water ripple around him — you’ve never noticed it’s so clear, you can see everything. From the mosaic-like blue tiles on the pool floor and walls to the way Sunghoon’s hair moves around his head. It’s a dazzling blue, shifting brilliantly through the whole spectrum under light from the moon, the pool, and the lampposts. 

Considering the way you’re sweating in the sticky heat, the water even looks refreshing, so you’re not sure why you don’t move to pull your dress off; or why you can’t shake your nerves. Sunghoon’s seen you in skin-tight dresses, and skimpy bikinis, so you’re not sure why the thought of him seeing you in your underwear is spooking you so much. It could be your lack of a bra. But even then, Sunghoon isn’t going to be the first person to see your bare breasts.

Interrupting your thoughts, he bobs to the surface with closed eyes and straight lips; his dimple shows. Pushing hair from his forehead, he asks if you’re going to join him though he seems to sense your apprehension, shaking his head. “You don’t have to take anything off,” he tells you gently. “Except maybe your shoes and socks.” 

You nod, stepping out of your shoes and pulling your socks off almost robotically. 

“It’s okay,” he smiles, comforting, reassuring, as he swims up to the edge of the pool and extends his wet hand to you. “I got you.”

You tell yourself to get out of your head, looking into Sunghoon’s sparkling eyes and feeling at ease from the way he looks up at you like you’re God’s gift. When you reach for the bottom of your dress, he gulps, his arm falling limply against the coping. You turn away from him to pull the light fabric over your head, letting it fall in a heap next to your shoes, and Sunghoon’s looking in the other direction when you turn back around. Even with the ‘privacy’ he’s afforded you by looking away, you can’t help but use your arms to cover your chest as you make your way over to the pool, sitting down on the edge and slipping into the water. 

It is refreshing. The water is the perfect temperature as it envelops you, soothes you.

Just more than an arm’s length away, Sunghoon’s form is broad. His shoulders are so wide and his back so toned that your head starts to swim. His skin, sunkissed, glowing, is dotted with pretty moles that you’ve never noticed before but can’t look away from — suddenly feeling as though you could point to each one with your eyes closed. 

With an odd half step, you reach him, letting your arms fall around his waist and pressing your chest to his back. You don’t know why you do that.

He draws a sharp breath. “Hi,” he whispers after a beat. 

“Hi.” 

A quiet falls between you until Sunghoon mumbles, over there, while pointing towards the deep end of the pool. You swim poorly behind him and he only stops when you call out his name. Sunghoon breaks out into laughter when he sees you. For him, who’s well into the deep end, the, now still, water might tease his chin if disrupted. For you, almost 2 metres behind, the water tickles your nose even when you stand on your tiptoes.

“Whoa,” he whispers. 

You tilt your head back to speak. “What?” 

“You’re just..” He pauses to gulp. “So short.”  

Offended, you scoff. “I’m the tallest out of all my friends,” you say defensively. And untruthfully — hoping he’s never seen you standing next to Yunjin.

“Are you friends with the Lakers?”

You drift away from him, laughing as well, until the water just about reaches your armpits. He follows you. As more of his body breaches the surface, water slips from his chest, droplets and streaks glowing under the white light of the moon, completely breathtaking.

“I was so nervous about today,” he says, pushing some water towards you, his lighthearted tone gone. 

“Oh?” You pause, continuing when he nods, and push water back in his direction. “How do you feel now?” 

Sunghoon’s pouty lips jerk up the corners, playful, boyish. A soft laugh slips from the space between his teeth. “I’m absolutely terrified.” His honesty draws you to him, and has you actually drifting closer in the water.

“What’s scaring you?” 

His breath seems to catch in his throat. He tilts his head while eyeing you. “Are you asking because you really don’t know?” If you’d still been splashing each other you doubt you’d have heard him talking over the water.

“Does it matter?”

Sunghoon seems to consider this for a moment, to consider you. Despite sitting just high enough to cover your breasts, the water doesn’t do very much to conceal them and his eyes get stuck on your chest for more than a little while. He clears his throat, looking back up at your face. He doesn’t answer. Instead, he raises his hands and smacks the surface of the water between you with open palms. A big splash hits you in the face. 

It’s on, you think, doing the same thing to him with all the force you can muster and laugh at the yelp he lets out. Something of a splash fight ensues, both of you doing everything you can to create a bigger mess of water to attack the other with. 

The rain starts so subtly that you don’t even notice it at first. You’re both too busy laughing and trying to splash the other harder to think about anything else. Only when you stop to catch your breath, to rest your aching arms, do you catch the faint ripples skating across the pool’s surface. Sunghoon doesn’t relent, taking the opportunity to gain the upper hand. And the rain gets heavy fast.

“Sunghoon, it’s raining, stop!” you call out, turning your face away from him. His raucous laughter makes your stomach flutter as you grab his wrist. “Come on, we’re gonna get wet, we have to go!” 

When you look back over at him, his smile is so wide, so sweet that you almost feel faint. Sunghoon doesn’t stop laughing, the sound is so contagious you can’t help but join in. His arms fall around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do while he cackles in front of you, you let your hands rest on his firm triceps. 

Large droplets start hitting your lashes, clinging to them, obscuring your vision, so you bring a hand up to act like an awning above your eyes. He calls you so cute under his breath though his laughter doesn’t seem like it’s going to stop anytime soon. 

“Hoon, come on. What’s so funny?”

The rain is cold against your shoulders but the boy in front of you doesn’t seem to share your concerns about the sudden downpour. You lock eyes with him, and his laughter seems to get caught in his throat. He’s still smiling but seems nervous, as though he’s only now become aware that he’s holding you so close that your naked chest is pressed against his. 

Sunghoon clears his throat. His smile returns, as a breathy laugh makes its way from his nose. He lets his face come down towards yours, slow, cautious, and too desperate to wait, you meet his lips halfway; they’re every bit as soft as you’d imagined. 

As if relieved, Sunghoon’s shoulders sag and his body seems to melt into your own. Desperation, hunger hits you from all angles, lighting up your insides and leaving your skin burning under his touch. Unthinkingly, you link your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close, almost whimpering when his tongue grazes yours.

Sunghoon tastes light and sugary, like the perfect combination of artificial strawberry and sweet coffee as his tongue moves against yours. From your mouth into his slips a dreamy sigh, while he holds onto you gently, like you’re the most delicate thing in the world; like he’s the most delicate thing. Why haven’t you been kissed like this before? So slowly, so softly, as if he means it. As if he’s kissing you for no reason other than simply wanting to kiss you. 

Only when he pulls away to catch his breath do you regain your senses and notice how much heavier the rain has become. But your brain short circuits at the sight of him. His breathing is ragged, his chest rises and falls against yours. Water darkened hair clings to his forehead, letting beads slip from its ends to his cheekbone before slipping down the column of his neck.

Shelter is the only word you manage to say and all you can do is hope that he’s able to work out the rest. Like something from the purest depths of your imagination, Sunghoon’s kiss-bitten lips stretch into a wide smile. A giggle, the softest thing you’ve ever come across, slips from his mouth while his fingers squeeze at your hips. 

“YN,” he says, breathless. “We’re in the pool.”

Dripping water onto the concrete under your feet, you and Sunghoon walk at snail’s pace from his car to your front door, with your linked hands swinging between your bodies. 

The porch light diffuses dramatically over Sunghoon’s features, and somehow, even under the stark lighting, he’s still beautiful. His wet hair drips water onto his shoulders, darkening his shirt in abstract splashes around the neckline. A grin splits across his lips when he locks eyes with you, his face scrunching up and his shoulders racking up and down as he laughs to himself. 

It’s impossible not to join in. “What’s so funny?” 

He only shrugs in response, struggling to keep a straight face. “I’m just.. happy,” he says eventually, a tinge of uncertainty hanging from his words. 

With shaking hands, Sunghoon grabs you by the waist and holds you close, leaning down to kiss you. As your lips move with his, the only thing you can think about is how badly you want to feel this moment forever. To feel the tremble in sweet Sunghoon’s hands as he holds onto you gently, to feel his soft hair under your fingertips, and his hard chest pressed against your body. To feel his lips curving into a smile, his forehead resting on yours as his breath fans your lips. “Are you happy too?” he asks. 

You think you’ll die if you ever forget the way it feels to like Park Sunghoon.

“Yes. Very.” 

Through the peephole in your front door, you watch as Sunghoon stands outside, bringing a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the spot where you’re certain your lip gloss lingers. You suppress a giggle with your hand and run up the stairs to your room where you bury your face in your pillow to muffle a squeal. You can’t remember the last time you felt so giddy over something that was happening in your own life rather than something sweet you’d read in a book or heard about from a friend.

With Chaewon’s hand in yours, and butterflies in your stomach, you make your way to the community pool for the first time in about a week. Like always, you find Sunghoon’s friends wreaking havoc in the water until.. something happens. By the time it occurs, you’ve been laying poolside for about an hour, trying to convince your best friend that you liking a guy isn’t going to do anything to your friendship. 

“You’re not supposed to like that guy,” Chaewon whines like a child, playing with the frayed hem of her shorts. “You’re only supposed to like me!” A sigh passes from her lips as she uses her arm to shield her eyes from the sun. “And Yunjin!” she adds after too long. 

“What about the rest of our friends?” 

“And Kazuha, and Minjeong, and Jaehyun, an—” 

“Jaehyun’s a guy.” 

She seems a little thrown off by your interruption, pursing her lips before speaking. “Well, yeah, but.. he’s one of our guys. A Chaewon-approved guy.” 

Suddenly, the noise level reduces by at least half and you can’t help but feel alarmed, whipping your head in the direction of the pool. A quick scan tells you that nothing bad has happened, allowing you to release a breath you didn’t know you were holding. In the corner of your eye, you see Sunghoon’s friends huddled together and quickly realise that the space has only gotten so quiet because they’re chatting at a normal volume. Huh, you think, it almost sounds like the speakers are quite good. Heeseung and Jay get out of the water, sitting up on the pool’s edge while the other four boys all stand in place, all six of them fix their eyes on something in front of them but you don’t care enough to investigate further. 

You look back at Chaewon as a pout settles on your lips. “Why can’t Chaewon approve of my guy?”

“When you say that Sunghoon is your guy, do you mean it in the same way that Yeonjun is your guy?” she asks, her tone scathing but her face concerned. “Or, the way that Asahi is your guy, or, even Yoshi?” 

“No. This is different. Sunghoon is different.” 

You know how trite and naive you must sound, but he is different. You’d never dated a guy who’d pick you up right at your front door; Yeonjun and Yoshi typically sent DMs to let you know they’d parked out front, and Asahi did nothing but honk the car horn because he found it funny. Though to call what you were doing with those guys ‘dating’ would be a huge overstatement. There was Renjun from first year who was nice enough but never wanted to hang out, and Donghyuck who made you laugh but never complimented you. 

Chaewon crinkles her nose, reaching out to hold your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I really hope you’re right.”

And now there’s Sunghoon. Sunghoon who tells you that he can’t wait to see you again; who always tells you how pretty you look; who blushes when you hold his hand, who touches his cheek when you kiss it. You can’t imagine him doing anything bad to anyone. Sunghoon is different, and you hope you can be different this time too. In all the time you spend thinking, your guy shows up with a shy smile on his face with both of his hands behind his back. 

It’s your first time seeing him in person since your date and the sun glows against his skin, his wet hair tickling his thick brows as he stands at the foot of your chairs, watching Chaewon nervously. “Hi, Chaewon,” he says after a while.

“Hello!” She grins, seeming so bright and happy that you find it hard to reconcile this Chaewon with the one who’d been clutching her chest and sliding down the walls over the fact you have a crush on the boy she’s now being so pleasant to. 

“I got this,” Sunghoon says, bringing his hand from behind his back to reveal a strawberry-flavoured slushy. “For you.” He adds on, holding the drink out to your friend. While Chaewon gushes about how much she likes the mix of berries that make up her favourite flavour, Sunghoon hums and nods along while making his way to the other side of your chair. He wears a wider, more confident smile on his face while he stands over you. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” he says quietly, bringing his other hand out to give you the blue raspberry slushy he’s been holding. With his foot, Sunghoon drags a spare lounger from behind him next to yours before moving out of the way and using his hands to push it some more, making the armrest touch yours. “Hey,” he smiles, taking a seat. 

You take a grateful sip of your drink, surprised at how much better it tastes coming from him. “Thank you, Hoon.” You can’t stop yourself from leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, liking the way your stomach flutters when his hand flies up to touch the spot you’d kissed.

“I like when you do that.” 

“This?” you ask, kissing him again. Through squinted eyes, you notice a dusting of pink over his cheeks and take such a big sip of your slushy that every single part of your body goes numb and your head starts to hurt. Sunghoon only laughs, watching you. It’s quiet between you for a bit until you come to. “I’m not complaining, really, but don’t you have.. lives to guard?” 

“I’m on break,” he says. “Do you want me to go?” His brows raise dramatically as the corners of his lips sink to the floor, a glint of something playful in his sparkling eyes. 

You shake your head, face alighting with a grin when you remember something. “So can I see the skating videos you promised you’d show me?” 

All playfulness is gone. “Did I.. promise?” 

“Yes!” You don’t like the way he arches his brow at you. “Two nights ago.. before you fell asleep on the phone.” 

He scoffs at you, playfully. “If I remember correctly, you fell asleep on the phone,” Sunghoon says, tone accusatory. “And you snore.” Sunghoon lets his cheek lie flat against the chair, grinning. He’s beautiful. And correct.

“Skating videos,” you repeat. Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you, grinning brilliantly when you laugh. “I’m serious,” you frown. 

“You’re cute,” he says quietly, like it’s a correction. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Sunghoon pauses but takes your nod as a sign to continue. “I have a thing, next Tuesday, and I was wondering if you’d want to come and see me skate in person?” His voice tips up at the end of the question.

Excitement bubbles up inside you, causing you to sit up straight in your seat, turning your body to face him. “You want me to come?” 

He nods eagerly. 

“I’ll be there.” 

The tips of Sunghoon’s ears redden as he smiles at you, his eyes scanning your face. You can’t resist kissing him, and he doesn’t try to stop you, meeting your lips halfway. It’s sweet as sugar and goes on until his friends start to cheer loudly and Sunghoon pulls away, shy. But he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You grab him by the cord of the whistle around his neck and pull him back towards you. Relief floods you when your lips reunite.

“I’m gonna text you later with the details, time and shit,” he mumbles against your lips before getting up to go. 

As he retreats, he looks over his shoulder a few times, waving at you and smiling widely while he does. Until he bumps into a small child who practically topples over; Sunghoon manages to catch them in the nick of time and his neck flushes pink. 

It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so cute. 

Chaewon watches you as she sips her slushy with an appreciative smile, letting out a long ahh of refreshment before putting the cup down. “Chaewon approved.” 

It seems like your mother’s been back from work for a while when you get home. A stretchy white headband holds her hair out of her face while she stands over a pot on the stove, looking comfy in some sweatpants.

Happy to see you, she pulls you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Hi, honey,” she grins. 

She turns down your offer to help and insists on you setting the table instead, which you do happily, taking a seat when you’re done. Through her phone, she plays the music she listened to while you were growing up and sitting there, watching your mum cook while dripping chlorinated water from your hair to the kitchen floor, makes you feel a bit like a child. Like it’s 2008 and you’ve come home from a day at the pool with Chaewon, who would sit across from you at the dinner table, all blunt fringe and missing teeth, talking about this brand new thing called cheesecake, while your mother made dinner for the three of you with a towel wrapped on her head, drying her wet hair. 

As your mum fills your plate, she tells you about her day at work. Her boss was unreasonable, like always, and her office bestie took off on maternity leave. Again. She asks you about your day and pretends like she doesn’t notice the way you smile when you talk about the pool. 

You don’t wait to tell her about Sunghoon. 

“Is that who you went out with last week?” 

You cough around a grain of rice; you don’t remember mentioning him. “How do you know?” 

A smile takes over her face. “Because I watched him stand around the driveway for five minutes before he rang the bell.” You can’t help the way you laugh, it sounds like him to a tee. “What’s he like?” 

You tilt your head for a minute, thinking. “I still feel like we’re getting to know each other, you know?” Understanding, she nods her head. So, naturally, you talk for the better part of 10 minutes about Sunghoon until your food gets cold and your cheeks hurt from smiling. 

In preparation for Sunghoon’s skating showcase, you read up on the sport and audience etiquette, and stay up late the night before making a pretty banner for him. Sleepiness plagues you when you wake up that afternoon but at least you’re happy with the way the sign came out. 

While doing your makeup, you start to second guess your outfit choice. It was nice when you picked it last week, and it was nice when you put it on an hour ago and then back on twenty minutes ago. So, out of options, you stand in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, sending Sunghoon a picture of your flowy off-white dress and asking if it’s okay. 

Sunghoon, dramatic as ever, responds with a selfie, all pretty smile and red hearts drawn over his eyes. You almost want to drop dead at the sight of him. And then another message comes through, no words, just emojis. At least 40 silly little yellow faces fill the text box. Some are crying, some have heart eyes, some have starry eyes, and some are drooling. There seems to be no apparent order, and you see sprinkles of white hearts in between them. 

sh: you look so beautiful you’re so beautiful baby

Baby, he’d said. Simple, pixelated, enough to make your heart flip in your chest. 

sh: can i come over 

sh: just to loo k at you or smth 

you: please 

You want to kiss him. 

sh: ok omw .. lying i dont have time :((( 

sh: also i fucked up my hair last night don’t laugh when you see me. 

you: no promises .. 

There’s a short queue at the reception desk when you arrive at the rink. The lobby is full of excited parents and bored teens, all eager with anticipation for the start (and end) of the summer showcase. Sunghoon had been relatively vague about the event until you called him last night, with a list of questions about it. With one question about it. The two of you chatted and laughed for hours until you got an answer. 

When he’s not spending the day at the pool, Sunghoon volunteers to teach kids classes at the rink he grew up in. Every year, the teaching cycle runs from April to July, at which point the rink holds the summer showcase, for parents and family members to attend and see what they’ve been funding for the past four months. 

“We don’t normally let parents sit in on classes because it’s distracting for the kids,” he explained through a yawn. “And it’s the whole reason I started skating in the first place.” Sunghoon paused. You hadn’t been expecting him to stop speaking but you rubbed your eyes and mumbled oh, really? as you used a pencil to sketch out the outline of your bubble letters. “You know, at first I thought you fell asleep, but I didn’t hear you snoring so I got a little worried,” he said, nervous. 

“I’m still here.” 

He fell quiet for a beat, speaking nervously. “Just let me know if I’m boring you, yeah?” 

“I could listen to you talk forever,” you admitted. “I’m having fun learning more about you.” 

Sunghoon’s light laughter made you bite back a giggle. “You make me feel good about myself,” he said quietly before continuing, giving you no time to respond. “But, yeah, I used to play hockey because I didn’t know how to talk to anyone except my parents and my one-year-old little sister, but my only friend on the hockey team invited me to go and watch him at the showcase one year and it was just.. the greatest thing I’d ever seen.” 

You encouraged Sunghoon to go on, still reeling from his quiet confession, and loving the grin in his voice while he spoke about skating and the way he laughed through some stories from work. Like how on a quiet day at the pool when he’d been messing around with Heeseung, Jake, and Riki in the water, some random guy approached them. 

“And this is so crazy too because we were just, like, fucking around, and the guy goes, “My grandmother can swim faster than you,” like he yelled it and stomped away.” 

Worried about waking your sleeping parents, you covered your mouth while laughing, mainly from the offence you can hear in Sunghoon’s voice over something that happened in October. “What did you guys do after that?” 

“I was on shift so I clocked out and went home.” 

The back of the program has a picture of Sunghoon and some of the other skating coaches, but it’s hard to pay attention to them or the signup sheet at the bottom when you see the wide smile on his face; you love the photo, it’s your favourite. He looks so happy, so radiant. If the scrunch of his nose and eyes is anything to go by, he must have been laughing when the picture was taken. This detail only makes you love it even more. 

In the corner of your eye, Jake leans against a wall, scrolling through his phone with a sheet of paper tucked under his arm. Seeing as he’s now (technically) your friend-in-law, you decide to approach him. Through the crowd of attendees waiting to be seated, he spots you as well, rushing over with the widest smile you’ve ever seen on anyone. You could count his teeth. 

Jake takes you by surprise, hugging you. “Hey! Hoon’s so happy that you’re here,” he says, somehow smiling even wider. “I’m so happy that you’re here, I finally have company!” 

When the double doors to the rink open up, you follow Jake to what he describes as the best seats in the house. “I always sit up here, so our boy knows to look over,” he says with a smile, his eyes never leaving you. “In case you were worried about that. It’s kinda far, and there’s lights, so you might have to wave a little harder than normal but, he’ll see you.” 

You nod, smiling too. “Got it.” Jake doesn’t look away. “Are you okay?” you ask him. More out of concern for your own well-being than anything else; you’ve heard of people murdering their best friend’s crushes before. 

He chews on his lip, tilting his head. All traces of his welcoming smile have faded, replaced with a more solemn expression as he looks over your shoulder for a beat. “Sunghoon’s my best friend,” he starts, and it’s hard not to picture yourself tumbling to your death down the slowly populating rows in front of you. They seem steeper now than before. “And he’s.. well.. you know him. It’s just that, he really likes you, you know? And I’m not saying this to be rude but I know about Yeonjun.. and—” Jake stops short, shooting you an apologetic look. “Anyway, I know that for some people, for you, for me, even, seeing more than one person at a time isn’t a big deal, but Hoon’s not like that.” 

You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. 

A voice booms through the tannoy, telling everyone to take their seats as the show will be starting soon. 

Unsure what to say, you look out at the ice while Jake’s words sink in. It might have been easier to come up with something if he’d been any less kind about it. Spoken to you in a harsher tone. You hate the idea of Sunghoon knowing about the others, even if they were before him. Hate the idea of Jake having a similar conversation with him; telling Sunghoon that he’s not trying to be rude but..

“Sunghoon’s..” you pause, nervous. “He’s the best, and I can’t imagine seeing anyone else,” you admit. 

Jake beams, trusting you, and nods his head. “He’s gonna love your banner,” he grins. “And that.. angry looking plushy you brought.” 

The lights cut and all of the chatter hushes in an instant. Slowly, they fade back on, as a classical piece begins. Jake bounces his leg so hard you can feel the bench rattle under you, he’s practically glowing with giddiness. He’s like a little puppy, a golden retriever with light hair to match. 

After a short while, a boy skates out onto the ice, tall, graceful, an—Riki? He reaches the middle of the rink and introduces himself, enthusiastically reading a script from a few cue cards and looking right up into the stands to wear you and Jake sit. Beside you, Jake cheers, raising his banner, and you crane your neck to read it (LUCKY STRAWBERRIKI), and on the ice, Riki hides his face with his hand, quickly looking at his feet before continuing with his intro. 

You count eight tiny kids skating towards Riki, followed by Jungwon, and a line of other older skaters, Sunghoon is the last to appear, and your stomach churns with pride. All of them are dressed casually; you like Sunghoon’s straight-cut jeans and open button-up. 

As Jake predicted, Sunghoon (and Jungwon, and Riki) look up in your general direction, and next to you, Jake struggles to hold all three posters up at once so you help him, yelling along excitedly. It’s hard to tell from so far away but it feels like Sunghoon is staring straight at you like you’re the only two people at the rink. You feel like standing, like standing and singing HOOOOOOOOOOOON at the top of your lungs. For a moment you wonder if he’d shout back, telling you that right now he can hardly breathe. As if reading your mind, his mouth tugs up at the corners, slightly, before spreading into an ear-to-ear grin that makes your cheeks burn. 

The entire show passes by in an adorable whirlwind, as you and Jake applaud and encourage all of the performers, gushing with one another over how cute the baby skaters (including Jungwon and Riki) are. It’s beautiful and exciting, and you’re so happy you came. 

But time seems to stop when Sunghoon returns. Jake cheers loudly for him when he skates out; you can’t bring yourself to do the same. 

He comes to a stop in the middle of the rink, looking right up at the two of you. Jake waves his poster and raises yours too, seeming to notice the way you’re stuck to the spot. Sunghoon smiles, and somehow, he’s even more beautiful than you remembered. 

Graceful, elegant, Sunghoon glides on the ice when the music starts, immediately skating into a jump — you watch with held breath. He spins once, his arms tucked neatly by his sides, his hair fanning out around his head. Another spin, beautiful, clean. In the seats around you, people are cheering, you can hear them clear as day but the only person you see is Sunghoon who’s turning into his third rotation; the last. He sticks the landing, and an eternity has passed by as you let a sigh of relief slip out. 

Each jump is more gorgeous than the last, though seems to go on forever — you’re nervous as if it’s you on the ice. 

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you watch as he skates beautifully, executing smooth spins and controlled turns. You don’t think you could look away from him if you tried — this must be what people mean when they say someone was born for something. Even in the casual setting, he looks like a professional, just as stable and fluid as he was in the videos you’d watched. 

The music fades out, his performance is done, and you find yourself thankful for the fact that no one’s sitting behind you as you stand up. Jake does the same. Both of you hold your banners up for him to see, cheering louder than anyone else. Sunghoon raises a hand to wave at you. You wave back excitedly, getting a little flustered by the girl sitting a few rows ahead of you who turns around, smiling dreamily at Jake and rolling her eyes at you.

After bowing politely, Sunghoon looks back up at you, and you can’t help but blow him a kiss, only feeling silly about it when Jake nudges you with a goofy smile. You watch as Sunghoon raises his right hand for a beat, shifting a little on his skates before reaching out ahead of him, catching the flying kiss. 

Butterflies run rampant in your stomach when he holds his hand, and your kiss, over his heart.

As the show ends, you chat with Jake for a bit, gushing over the performances together as the audience clears out, and you trudge slowly down the stairs and back into the lobby. It’s nice chatting with him, seeing the way his face lights up as he talks so excitedly and passionately about his friends. 

You understand why Sunghoon likes him so much.

Sunghoon shows up at the other end of the lobby space, a vision in purple-tinted hair. You have to tell yourself to keep your feet planted on the spot for fear of literally running into his arms. He doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, thank God, jogging through the lobby, dipping and dodging people as best and as fast as he can to reach you. 

He hugs you. Holds you tight. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, quietly, only for you. 

In your chest, your heart seems to grow tiny fists that throw a million punches a minute. Your brain scrambles for the words to say but you can’t come up with anything, hoping that the tightness of your arms around him lets him know that you’re glad to be here. 

He lets go of you, beaming, and moves to dap up Jake, asking his friend if he’s aware that he’s taking Jungwon and Riki go-karting tonight. 

“I’m doing what?” 

“Yeah, they wanted me to take them but I’m busy.” 

“Busy doing what?” Jake asks conspiratorially, arching a brow. He glances sideways at you, and can’t hold back his laughter. 

Sunghoon sets his jaw, punching Jake in the stomach. “Grow up,” he mutters, stifling a laugh of his own. 

You laugh too, partially at what Jake said, mostly at the way he keels over, clutching his stomach, a long groan passing from his lips. Sunghoon’s brows raise when you hand him the banner. “Look what I made for you.” 

“I saw you holding it earlier, baby, I love it,” he says, beaming at you as he reads over it again. “You did such a good job. Can I take it home?” His eyes sparkle when he looks up at you. Your heart cinches in your chest. 

“Of course.”

Next to you, Jake holds out the banner he made. “Do you wanna take mine home?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare him a glance. “Recycle it,” he says. 

Jake tilts his head, confused. A loud huh comes out as he raises his brows. “I make a banner for you every single year and every single time you turn your nose up at it. But here comes a pretty girl and all of a sudden you love banners. Really, Sunghoon? You love it?” He pauses to let out a laugh, incredulous, seeming not to care about the few people that have turned over in your direction. “I can’t stand you.” Jake’s voice is whiny and hard to take seriously.

“I don’t love banners, I love this banner,” Sunghoon corrects, using his hand to shove Jake’s shoulder before holding the banner up over his chest. 

Amused, you watch the two boys bicker for a bit before Jake cuts Sunghoon off mid-sentence, raising his hands, muttering the word whatever.

Sunghoon seems sceptical of Badtz-Maru when you hand him over. He holds the plushy in his hand, eyeing it suspiciously before wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “He’s cute, baby, really, but why’d you pick the world’s unhappiest penguin?”

“He reminded me of you.” Sunghoon’s jaw drops, brows knitting together as he tilts his head, all while Jake struggles to stifle a laugh. “Because he’s from Gorgeoustown,” you add, your heart singing when Sunghoon kisses the top of your head, and you can’t resist letting your arms wrap around his waist. 

Compliments flow out of you like water from a fountain when Jungwon and Riki join your little group outside. Jungwon, with deep dimples and flushed cheeks, shyly mumbles variations of thank you, and I appreciate that while shifting from one foot to the other. Riki glows with pride, standing up straighter, and asking you what else you liked about his performance. 

The sun feels nice on your arms as you watch the two play a very intense, high-stakes game of rock, paper, scissors for the front seat of Jake’s car. They’re playing best of five and getting ready to begin the third, and possibly final round. Riki has two wins under his belt, it’s not looking good for Jungwon whose breathing has become heavy. He’s taken off his hoodie and is stretching his arms in preparation. 

You start a countdown from three and laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt when Jungwon throws a losing rock against Riki’s paper, the oldest boy falling to his knees on the pavement and holding his head in his hands. Riki jumps higher than he had on the ice, embracing Jake in a tight hug, overjoyed by the victory while Jungwon groans. 

“Let’s hang out,” Sunghoon says as you walk to his car. 

Squeezing his hand, you nod and try not to melt on the concrete when he opens the car door for you. “What do you normally do after skating?” 

Sunghoon seems to think about your question for a while, tilting his head to the side as a fond smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “My parents would always take me out for dessert after competitions, or the next day if it was too late.” 

“Well, what do you think, Hoon? Is it too late for dessert?” 

Giddy in a way you’ve never seen him, he shakes his head in response. And in his car, he hums along to the radio, gingerly resting his hand on your bare knee. 

Sunghoon takes you to a dessert spot by Chaewon’s house, a fairly popular family-owned establishment that serves her favourite cheesecake. You sink into your seat over the table from him, in a slightly stiff booth with a tall back that makes it seem like it’s just you two and a coffee shop chatter Youtube video playing on a loop. 

“What are you having, baby?” he asks, drumming his fingers against the laminated menu. 

Knowing that Chaewon is coming over later, you let your eyes fall to the ice cream selection, reading the names of all 27 flavours and still settling on the only flavour you ever order here. “Cookie dough,” you say, reaching across the table to point at it on his menu. 

“And?” 

“And nothing.” 

His brows furrow. “You’re only getting ice cream?” 

“I mean, it’ll probably come in a cup, with a spoon,” you say, liking the way Sunghoon laughs at your stupid comment. “Chaewon’s staying over tonight so I don’t wanna fill up too much before dinner. I’ll order some cheesecake to take away when we’re done though, it’s her favourite,” you explain. 

He nods his head. “We can share my tiramisu.” 

It’s only after a conversation with Jake later on that you realise how big of a deal this is.

The two of you only manage to stop chatting and laughing when a girl with a cute bow in her hair and a smile on her face comes to ask if you’re ready to order. Across from you, Sunghoon orders a slice of tiramisu and a 3-scoop cup of coffee-flavoured ice cream. He runs a big hand through his hair and clears his throat, cheeks covered in pink as he asks if it would be okay for us to get a milkshake, to share, so, like, one milkshake, but then with two straws? Her eyes flick between the two of you and she grins, nodding her head but Sunghoon doesn’t go on. 

“A strawberry milkshake, please,” you say, watching the waitress take note of it before saying she’ll be right back. 

More than anyone you’ve ever met, Sunghoon loves tiramisu; he adores it. He lets you take the first spoon, and it’s delicious so you don’t have to fake your reaction when you try it. Sunghoon lights up with childlike excitement as he tries the second spoonful, his eyes widening as he hums around the dessert, shaking his head a little out of genuine enjoyment. 

Surprisingly, he’s able to tell you about the origins of the word (stems from the Italian tira mi su or pick me up), and shares a fond memory of the first time he tried it — he was 9 years old and choked on the cocoa powder on top.  

Sunghoon takes the first sip from the tall glass that sits between you both, you gulp at the sight of his lips wrapping around the straw and need to try it too. Your noses bump a little when you lean in, and, with sweet strawberry coating your tongue, you can’t help but giggle.

As you’d been expecting, your cookie dough ice cream is delicious and after a while, you use your tiny plastic spoon to scrape the sides of your cup and ignore the way Sunghoon laughs at you. Even when he’s mocking you, he still makes your stomach flutter.

“I can get you more if you want,” he offers with a wide smile. 

You shake your head. Sunghoon frowns, watching you collect the last pitiful scrapings before eating them. “You were so pretty today,” you tell him around the spoon.

“Did you think I was ugly before?” 

“Extremely.” His face scrunches up with laughter, showing off his dimple and his fangs. “You must have practised forever,” you add, distracted.

Sunghoon shrugs, reaching his hand across the table to play with your fingers. “In a way I did but not really,” he says vaguely, using his nail to draw a circle in the palm of your hand. “I don’t plan anything for the showcase, it’s just meant for fun, you know? I just go out and do what feels right on the day — so, I guess I’ve been practising for the last 13 years.” 

Completely awestruck, you utter a quiet “wow” and giggle when he pinches your hand. 

“What’re you and Chaewon gonna do later?” he asks, changing the subject.

You let him. At the mention of your best friend, a smile teases at your lips and Sunghoon matches it, beaming sweetly at you, looking forward to what you have to say. “I’m gonna cut her hair.” 

“Really?” Your heart thuds at the genuine interest in his tone. “Do you always cut it for her?”

“No,” you pout. “I’ve never cut anyone’s hair.”

“Not even your own?” Sunghoon laughs when you shake your head. “Wow, she must really trust you.”

It’s your turn to shrug. “We’re best friends.”

“She’s lucky.” 

A chuckle slips out of you and you scrunch your nose. “Me too.” 

When he sees the waitress approaching, Sunghoon stacks your dishes to help out, handing them over to her with a soft smile. “Would we be able to get two slices of cheesecake?” he asks. “To go?”

“Sure, what flavour?”

“Vanilla, please.” 

Eunchae, as you read from her nametag, makes a face, pulling air through her teeth. “The vanilla’s gonna be about an hour wait.” 

Sunghoon pales, looking at you. “That’s alright,” you say, smiling. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head, asking only for the bill. The two of you go back and forth on it and you practically beg him to let you pay. You put up a good fight, only backing down because he renders you speechless, shaking his head and saying: I’m not gonna take my girl on a date then make her pay. 

His girl hides her face with her hands, flustered. 

He laughs. 

A beat passes before he stands up, holding a hand out and asking you to go with him to the photo booth. With a smile, you slip your hand into his, allowing him to tug you towards it. Behind the curtain, he wraps his arm around your waist, leaning forward to pay. The two of you agree that you’ll take a set for him to keep and one for you. On the screen, a countdown starts from 4, and you almost feel under pressure. 

Posing for the first picture is a little awkward; you watch as Sunghoon puffs out his cheeks, poking one, and suppress your smile to copy. The second isn’t much better; you both grin and hold up peace signs. As you pose for the third, you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, can see him on the screen, staring as you look at yourself ahead but can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

The countdown reaches 2 and he holds you closer. His lips touch your cheek when the screen says 1 and you grin when the picture is taken. Sunghoon’s gaze is soft when you look at him. His hand touches your cheek, heavy on your skin, as he leans in to kiss you. You’ve never been kissed in a photo booth before and your heart beats in the back of your throat when the screen flashes, taking the last photo. 

He sticks his head out of the curtain to collect the 4-cut and cringes a little. “God, we look so stiff in the first two,” he complains. 

“I love them,” you say, taking the photo set from his hand. “They’re perfect.” You mean it. The visible awkwardness that you can feel through the frame is endearing to you, and you like the gradual transition into comfort as the photos progress. 

He looks at you with disbelieving eyes and pays for the next set. 

When you reach your table again, Sunghoon slides into the booth next to you, letting his arm rest over your shoulders, and he’s just as sweet as the tiramisu you tasted on his lips. 

With full bellies and two slices of cheesecake packaged in a pretty yellow box, you head back to his car, where he clips his photo set to the sun visor. You can’t help but lean over the centre console to kiss him again. When you pull away from him, you swear his eyes dart to the backseat, but the moment goes by as quickly as it happens so you must have been imagining things. He drives you home with the radio playing lowly, and his fingers locked with yours. 

On your doorstep, Sunghoon kisses you goodbye, biting at your bottom lip and grabbing your ass. He’s never kissed you like this before. You don’t think you were making things up earlier. “I really like your dress,” he tells you quietly, his lips brushing yours. 

Suddenly nervous, you mumble a thank you. 

“I like everything you wear, but this dress?” Sunghoon pulls away from you, just enough to rake his eyes down your body before holding you close. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, holding your cheek in his palm before kissing you again.  

A few hours later, Chaewon stands on a towel in the bathroom, between you and the mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. “Are you sure about this?”

She nods her head. “It doesn’t need to be neat, it just needs to be short,” she assures you, smiling at your reflection in the mirror. Despite only just passing her shoulders, Chaewon’s hair is the longest you think you’ve ever seen it. “I wanted to grow it out, like Kazuha’s, but I hate the way it feels on my skin.” Freshly washed, her hair is just beyond damp and darkening her pink t-shirt. 

You gulp, nervous. “How about you sit down?” 

She nods, saying it’s a good call. 

Chaewon sits on a towel in your bedroom, between you and your full-length mirror while your right hand shakes over a pair of scissors. Before you grab them, you move her hair over her shoulders just so she can tell you once more to give her a chin-length bob. 

She does. You nod. 

Releasing a deep breath you make the first cut, and the sound of the blades slicing through her hair leaves goosebumps forming on your arms. Wet and slightly clumped together, the remaining hair falls from your hold and smacks her ear. You hold your breath as she runs her fingers through it. 

“It’s even!” 

“I only cut one part, Wonie.”

“Yeah, but you did good!” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror and she grins. “Keep going, keep going!” 

The other three sections generate similar reactions, and you keep having to tell her to sit still while you try to trim her hair. 

Chaewon claps her hands when you finish, running her fingers through her “new” bob. “I love it!” she squeals, beaming at your reflection. “It’s perfect.” She turns around on the spot to fling her arms at you, appreciative, wrapping you up in her familiar, soft scent. 

The two of you sit on the couch, as Gossip Girl plays on the TV. For the duration of an entire episode, Chaewon turns her head gently from left to right, her short hair fanning out around her, with a light smile on her face as she does so. You only manage to look away from her when you remember the cheesecake, getting up from your seat abruptly, and excusing yourself. 

As you enter the kitchen, you check your phone, grinning at the sight of a few texts from Sunghoon. You open the fridge as you unlock your phone, clicking on the notification as you take the box of dessert out. Giggles fall out of you at the first message: a cute bed selfie, with his plushy tucked under his arm. 

sh: no way

sh: he smells like you :o

sh: are we seeing each other tmrw? 

sh: (say yes) 

It doesn’t make sense to you that Sunghoon is as cute as he is — you have to put the cheesecake down to relax. 

you: noooooooooo ur so cute

you: i gave him some perfume :o and i’m w wonie tn and tmrw but another time

you: talk later hoonie! 

The sight of the box in your hand makes Chaewon spring out of her seat, covering her mouth with her hands as she does a cute happy dance, prompting you to set the cake down on the coffee table to join her. Tired out, you slump back onto the couch after a while, smiling when she hands over your plate before sitting next to you. 

With a fond smile, you pull your knees to your chest, watching as Chaewon says: You know you love me, xoxo, Gossip Girl, in perfect sync with Kristen Bell. She grins to herself before taking a forkful of cheesecake to her mouth, moaning around the utensil. 

You’ve never known anyone to like dessert as much as her, and a grin forms on its own as you remember the way Sunghoon had done almost the same thing with tiramisu only hours earlier. Being an avid hater of tiramisu, you wonder how Chaewon might react if you told her, before focusing on your slice and the gorgeous face of Leighton Meester. 

The two of you must sit through four episodes, before you sleepily lean into her, telling her she can finish off your piece of cake that she’s been eyeing hungrily since she finished hers approximately 15 Gossip Girl blasts ago. She watches you from the counter while you wash the dishes, thanking you again for the cake. 

Later that night — when she thinks you’re asleep — Chaewon presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “I’ve never had a friend like you before,” she whispers, turning over in bed and grabbing your hand. You don’t know what to do when you hear her sniffling next to you. 

Salt air and sun cream skate around you — the only things you can smell over the oil soaked chips you share with Chaewon at the beach. Heavy trainers weigh down each corner of the fitted bed sheet underneath you and Chaewon as you watch the wind push clouds through the too-blue sky. Drunk on cider, she laughs to herself, pointing above you. “That one kinda looks like Sunghoon’s friend, right?”

“Which one?” you ask, moving your head to see exactly what she’s pointing at. You’re not sure if you’re asking which friend or which cloud. 

“That one, like Jay.”

Laughter hits you immediately. She’s absolutely right. A triangular mass in the sky leaves you both cackling and rolling around. 

Same as the sand through your fingers, three weeks slip by. You and Sunghoon take more pictures in photo booths and struggle to stop kissing each other. He clasps your necklaces, and puts sunscreen on your back; you hug him from behind and take naps in the park with your head on his chest. Sunghoon makes daisy chains to sit in your hair, and puffy paper stars to fill a jar in your desk. You take his little sister for ice cream and braid her hair when she asks you. 

Tonight however, completely spent from a day of shopping with your mum and Chaewon, the three of you sat on the couch, all eating your bodyweight in cheesecake and crying over the ending of How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days.  

After you’ve all recovered, your mum watches from the car as you hug Chaewon on her doorstep and you fall asleep in the passenger seat on the ride home. No longer small enough to be carried up to your room, you drag your feet to the bed where you fall asleep as soon as your body hits the mattress. But a phone call from Kazuha disrupts your slumber. 

“Are you going to the pool tomorrow?” she asks, sounding alarmingly awake for 4:57 a.m. 

“Tomorrow, today, or tomorrow, tomorrow?” 

“Like,” she pauses, you can picture her running a hand through her hair as she thinks. “In a few hours, I guess.” 

You hum down the phone. 

“We can go together!” The smile in her voice is audible. “Oh, Jay likes YJ. Did I tell you? And fuck, Lee Heeseung is so annoying.” 

“No, he’s not,” you say defensively, slightly rattled by the fact that she woke you up in the middle of the night to shit on your boy’s best friend.

Kazuha scoffs. “Sure.” The line falls quiet for a beat. “He’s not actually annoying, I was just trying to announce that I have a crush on him.” Of course she was. 

“Heeseung seems like a great guy and I’m really happy for you, but let’s talk at the pool, okay?” 

“Talk at the pool!” she chirps, cutting the phone. 

You don’t manage to get back to sleep. 

At the pool, Kazuha says you’re beautiful when you pull your t-shirt over your head and cuts you off before you get to thank her, going on a tangent about how badly she wants to nap but doesn’t want to tan unevenly. Or sleep for too long that her face gets puffy. You take your mission seriously, using your phone to set timers and waking her up each time it goes off despite the way she grumbles at you. 

Riki runs over to tell you to watch him before running away and flipping into the water. Your praise doesn’t seem to get old, but the flips don’t either, each one just as clean and impressive as the ones before. 

Kazuha’s on her 4th rotation when you find yourself wandering over to the concession stand, in the mood for something sweet after being tempted by the scent of baking dough wafting over the pool. But as you get further and further ahead in line, you eventually decide you only want a lollipop, and there are only two people in front of you when you realise you left your phone in your chair and won’t be able to pay.

As if sent from heaven, someone taps you on the shoulder, but you’re met with no one when you look to your left; Sunghoon’s laugh is adorable on the other side of you, contagious when he bumps your hip with his. 

“Hi, baby,” you say, looking up at him. He has a white towel on his head, covering his forehead and tucked behind his ears. “Is there a reason you have this on?” you ask him, touching the damp fabric that sits on his shoulders.  

“What, I’m not allowed to dry my hair?” 

“I’m not allowed to be curious?” 

Sunghoon gently flicks your forehead and you pretend it hurts. 

Like Hannah Montana, he hooks his fingers under the front of the towel, pulling the “wig” off to reveal his luscious (and soaking wet) locks of dark hair. A gasp falls from your lips as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. Having essentially grown up with Sunghoon, or rather, grown up adjacent to Sunghoon, him having black hair isn’t anything new. But it’s definitely something you’re fond of. Fond of him and the way his dark hair only brings out his features, matching his thick brows and the hard lines of his face. 

“Do you like it?” he asks. 

You love it. “What are you gonna do if I don’t?” you ask, pushing some of his hair from his forehead. 

“Buzzcut.” 

With a worried look on his face, he lets you use both hands to cover his hair and imagine it. “Are you laughing because I’m so devastatingly gorgeous with black hair or because I’m about to buzz my head?” Laughter bubbles in your chest, as his hair flops back over his forehead. “Wait, baby, no.” A deep pout settles on his lips. “You actually don’t like it?” 

“I love it, you know I love it.” 

Sunghoon lets you compliment him until you reach the front of the line when he talks with the person on shift. He uses his phone to pay for what you want, and seeing your smiling face on his lock screen makes your cheeks burn while you hide your face in his back, arms locked limply around his waist. 

The two of you only leave the stand when the line behind you builds up, standing in the shade next to it. He watches you unwrap the candy and raises a brow when you hold it out to him. “First lick?”

He shakes his head. 

“Come on, Hoonie,” you tease, letting your hand rest on his arm, liking the way it tenses under your touch. “I know you want a taste.” 

His eyes drop to your chest for a split second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he lifts his gaze. “You have no idea,” he mumbles before opening his mouth a little, leaning down towards you. His lips are slightly parted and very tempting as they wrap around the lollipop. 

“Good?”

Sunghoon’s eyes lock with yours as he sucks on the candy. “Very,” he says, the word coming out kind of garbled around it before letting you take it back. You watch him chew on his lip, humming to himself at the lingering taste of your lolly. 

The cola flavour hits your tongue immediately and you like the way Sunghoon gulps as he watches you, struggling to maintain the eye contact you’d had a moment earlier. You don’t take nearly as long as he did, pulling the lolly from your lips with a satisfying pop before smiling up at him, sickly sweet. “Very good indeed,” you echo him, letting the candy rest between your lips before you turn to walk away. Sunghoon follows, thankfully. Heading back over to where you’d been sitting, you find Kazuha’s chair empty. 

A shriek over your shoulder locates her like a pin on a map. 

In the pool, you see her sitting on Heeseung’s shoulders cackling as she pushes Sunoo over so hard that Jay, whose shoulders he’s sitting on, falls too. Gleefully, she leans back, falling into the water only to resurface and find her way into Heeseung’s arms. You stop walking when she tilts her head up to kiss him. Oh? Sunghoon walks right into your back. The kiss is short, not much more than a peck really, she pulls away with a grin on her face, swimming to the edge of the pool and Heeseung’s ears turn red as he watches her. 

Against your own, Sunghoon’s skin is warm, slick almost from what you think is a combination of pool water, sweat, and sunscreen. You hate yourself for liking it. His hardening dick presses against you, and your heart swells — some frenzied mix of feeling flattered, and horniness, you assume. A flame burns in your stomach, hot, blue. Neither of you moves for a while, long enough for Kazuha to walk over to your seats and scrunch her hair with a t-shirt. 

Sunghoon exhales shakily when you lean into him, resting the back of your head on his chest and holding the lollipop by the stick. “You okay?” you ask, voice nothing more than a whisper. 

His head dips, breath fanning your neck as he kisses your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your skin before standing up straight. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, holding you close. “Do you wanna come over tomorrow?” he asks, words coming out as one. “My family’s on vacation.” His cock twitches against you when he says it. 

“They are?” 

“Mm, they leave tomorrow morning.”

A breathy laugh comes from your nose as you step away from his body, turning around to look at him. Not so subtly, he takes the towel from his shoulder and holds it in his hand, covering himself. A proper laugh falls from your lips, your head tipping back a bit. 

“What if I wanna come today?” you ask, raising a brow. “Tonight even?” 

“Tonight? I can call you if you wanna come tonight.” 

You have a feeling that the two of you are talking about entirely different things.

“Pick me up?” 

“Always.” 

Sunghoon’s bedroom is exceptionally neat. Everything on his desk (his PC set up and a notebook) is placed precisely, and there’s nothing on the floor except for his furniture and a giant 8-ball rug. His off-white walls are completely bare, save for three posters above his desk; your favourite is a handmade (you think) white poster that reads There’s No Planet B in slightly messy block capitals, which sits between blown up pictures of Childish Gambino, and SZA. Underneath the perfectly aligned posters, stuck right above his monitor are the words: Figure skating prince, Park Sunghoon! You’re the best! with a bright red lipstick kiss in the corner; your heart does a triple axel at the sight. 

He stands in the middle of his open doorway like he has been for the past two minutes, watching you admire the medals that sit in a display case on a floating shelf. In 2015 he took home a gold medal from the Lombardia Trophy, and another from the Asian Open Trophy. The two silver medals beside them tell you that he continued to do well at the Asian Open Trophy in the two years that followed.

Along with the Sunghoon you saw today, tiny Sunghoon skates through your mind, so impressive and so young. The quiet boy who often missed class. Who’d fall asleep with his face in a textbook during the classes he did attend. Who you’d let borrow your notes after days of absence, and who wordlessly thanked you with a carton of banana milk each time. How didn’t you know about all of this?  Beyond awestruck by his accomplishments, you look over your shoulder to ask him about it. 

Sunghoon only shrugs. “I was okay.”

“You were okay?” You can’t help but scoff at him. “I’ve seen the videos, Sunghoon. I’ve seen you in person, you’re.. amazing.” The word feels like an understatement. “I don’t know very much about skating but you’re breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” he says, looking at his feet. 

“Have you thought about the Olympics?” you ask seriously. You get ready to apologise when you watch him purse his lips to the side, making you worry you’ve touched a nerve—But Sunghoon speaks before you have the chance. 

“I used to train with the Olympic team but it was too much pressure for me, and I much prefer coaching nowadays, it’s, like, the perfect way for me to feel all the joy of skating and absolutely none of the stress.” The fond smile on his face makes you think he means it.

It almost feels wrong to sit on his neatly made bed but you take a seat on its edge anyway, desperate for one of you to at least look comfortable in this situation. BaMa sits between his pillows and you can’t help but smile at the penguin who stares back at you, unimpressed. Sunghoon stays in place. From where you’re sitting, it’d be difficult to miss the way his eyes widen, stuck on you as he chews on his bottom lip. “Are you okay?” you ask him after a while, starting to feel awkward under his stare. 

For a split second, Sunghoon presses his lips into a straight line that shows his dimple before shrugging. “I’ve never brought a girl to my room before. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do,” he says, fixing his gaze on the wall behind you. 

“The only thing we’re supposed to do is whatever you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Sunghoon looks at you, thinking. “We should kiss,” he blurts out. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Badly.” But he doesn’t move. 

You wait it out a little, counting thirty whole seconds with no sign of movement from him. “How’re you gonna kiss me from over there?” 

A gorgeous grin takes over his face. Sunghoon closes the door behind him, crossing the room in a few paces to sit beside you. With some hesitation he pats his lap, struggling to meet your eyes while he does so. Your insides feel like a shaken bottle of Coke when you straddle him, and you can hear him exhale shakily at the way your dress hitches up, showing off your bare thighs. Sunghoon’s thighs are firm underneath you, his pants soft against your skin. It’s no use trying not to think about riding his thigh or riding him. But try as you might, your efforts don’t stand a chance against the feeling of him hardening under you.

His lips catch yours in a gentle kiss. You can feel the way he smiles, feel a giggle, light, airy, passing from his mouth into yours. It’s hard not to smile too. His fists clench behind you, bunching up the fabric of your dress in his palms desperately. Hard and thick, his cock presses against your core. You moan and Sunghoon all but freezes, his hands releasing your dress.  

Barely a second passes before he grabs you again, leaning back against the bed without breaking the kiss for anything, until you need to catch your breath and you pull away, sitting back in his lap with your hands resting on his toned stomach. You instinctively grind down on him when his cock twitches under you.

From your seat you can see the way his eyes widen when you do, see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat when he gulps. Or maybe the gulp came first; it’s hard to say. Either way, you don’t think you care. He sighs, relieved when you rock your hips against his for a second time. 

Sunghoon looks like sin the third time you do it, groaning and sitting up on his elbows, looking at you through lidded eyes, sighing through pouty lips. “I’m not ready to have sex yet.” 

You freeze in place. “That’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m ready when you are.” 

“I just feel bad that you came all the way over here for nothing.”

Looking down at Sunghoon with all of the uncertainty on his face makes your stomach twist. You wish he knew how much you like being with him; like spending time with him. Wish he knew how nice it was to spend the day sitting by the pool and just getting to look at him. How nice it was to eat fruit in the park with him. To talk about nothing on the phone before bed. You rest a hand on his cheek, melting when his fingers wrap around your wrist and his thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Hoon, I’m not here because I wanna have sex with you, I’m here because I like you.” This thing you’ve felt for weeks, lived with and nurtured seems so foreign now that you’ve put it into words. 

The smile on his sweet face almost has you saying it again, and again, if for no other reason than seeing the way his fangs peek out at you, or how his eyes crinkle up into crescents, or hearing how he laughs, breathy, happy.  Sunghoon moves his head to kiss your palm. “I like you,” he says into your skin, mumbling like it’s a secret. “And I like being with you.”  

Even though Sunghoon saying he likes you feels a bit like a toddler telling you they can’t read, the statement shocks you. You knew he liked you, there wasn’t a shadow of a doubt this entire time, but hearing the words, feeling the shape of them against your palm makes his feelings for you seem tangible; so vivid; so thick. Like moisturiser sinking into your pores. 

He moves his head a little so your hand cups his cheek again. He smiles, soft, shy, Sunghoon. “You do.. eventually want that though, right?” The way his brows knit together when he asks is so cute that you can’t help but laugh a little. “Like, to have sex with me,” he adds. 

“Yes, when you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready to do.. other things,” he says, voice dwindling into a shy whisper. 

Curiosity piqued, you arch a brow. “Yeah?” Sunghoon nods. You press on. “Other things like..” 

A beat passes, and Sunghoon doesn’t speak. 

Instead, he opts to pull you down close to his chest, turning the two of you over. My God. His thin silver chain slips out of his shirt, swinging over your face just a bit, his light hair tickles your skin. You think you’d be happy if you died like this. With his bottom lip pinned between his teeth, his eyes scan your face, locking on your parted lips. His fingernail traces shapes on your hip, you immediately notice how blunt it is now compared to yesterday at the pool and can’t help but smile. Sunghoon moves his hand, his fingertips ghosting over your skin until he reaches the top of your panties. 

“Is this okay?” he asks. 

You nod, smiling, eager. You think you might die like this. 

His finger is long and thick, rubbing devastatingly slow circles on your clit through your underwear. Sunghoon puts a little pressure on it, just enough to please you yet still leave you wanting more. He slips a finger into your hole, pressing a kiss to your lips and catching your gasp in his mouth. 

“What got you so wet, baby?” 

There’s something about hearing these words from Sunghoon that makes them sound new, makes them sound fresh; alluring. Makes you want to cum on the spot when you answer. “You did.” Quickly, you learn that the way his lips quirk up into a smile also makes you want to cum on the spot.

You try to focus on the feeling of his tongue on yours, on the loud, wet sound of your lips smacking together, on anything other than how much better one of his fingers feels than two of yours. How much better he fills you up. How quickly he finds your spot and presses on it. A surge of pleasure licks down your spine, causing you to yelp. Kissing becomes hard fast, but if the way he moves his head to your suck lightly at your neck is anything to go by, he doesn’t mind.

He bites and he nips and he kisses the tender skin to soothe you, all while pushing a second finger into you. Time stops at the stretch and you arch your back towards the ceiling. He passes a breathy laugh; calls you cute. Your thighs press together around his hand. 

Leaning up from your skin, he makes a scissor motion with his fingers to work you open, studying the way your eyes screw shut, liking the way you gasp. His head dips back down beside yours, hair tickling your face. You can feel his lips graze your skin, breath fanning your ear. 

“I can’t stop imagining how you might taste,” Sunghoon whispers. “You gonna let me find out?” 

Your dress is bunched up around your waist, and if it wasn’t for all the material, you might have been able to see the trail of spit and love bites that Sunghoon had left on your stomach. You’ll have no choice but to wear one-pieces and full-length shirts for at least a week. There’s a smile on his face as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

Sunghoon kisses the dark spot on your panties, holding the wet fabric between his lips, tasting you. A quiet moan slips from him, and your body jolts involuntarily, a chill inching up your spine. His fingers hook on the sides of your underwear and he looks up at you, smiling when you nod your head, pulling them down when you lift your hips. With all that material out of the way, he can finally see your pussy, and the word fuck comes tumbling from his lips before he groans. “So pretty, you’re so pretty, YN.”

He buries his face between your thighs to press light kisses to your clit, pecking it sweetly. Your body buzzes from the contact. “Shit,” you sigh at the feeling of him licking a strip from your dripping hole back up to your clit. 

“My God,” he whispers, licking his lips. He presses his tongue against you, lapping up your wetness and humming appreciatively. Sunghoon’s eyes flutter shut when he holds your swollen clit between his lips, sucking on it, licking at it, slowly, passionately, the way he kisses your mouth. His movements make you jolt and he chuckles against you, a delicious vibration running along your cunt.

Unable to fully express how you feel, you settle with saying so good through a whine. A match strikes a flame in your stomach when Sunghoon moves his head down a little, letting his tongue tease your hole, his nose bumps your clit and he moans into you when you clench around the tip of his tongue. You can’t help but grip his hair to hold him in place, hoping he’ll never stop.

Shamelessly, you hump his pretty face as your orgasm quickly approaches, reminding you how long it’s been since you were last eaten out — not that anyone has ever come close to making you feel this good.  

His lips focus on your clit again as he presses a thick finger into your hole, curling it up towards your belly button a few times before adding another. Immediately, your toes curl up, everything flashes white behind your eyelids while your orgasm rips through you and Sunghoon moans when you finish. You’re thankful for the way he slows down, letting your cum slip out onto his lips and chin for a beat before sucking and licking your slit to clean you up, holding you down as you squirm against his sheets from the sensitivity. 

Looking just as spent as you feel, he leans back on his heels. His eyes are blown wide, his chest heaving, and his lips are swollen, glistening in your arousal that’s spread all over the lower part of his face. Spellbound and unblinking, he stares straight ahead at your cunt. 

“Hoon,” you say, breathless, leaning up on your elbows. 

“Yeah, baby?” He doesn’t look away when he speaks. The trance seems to break at your lack of a response and he seems to want to cuddle just as much as you do if the way he scrambles off the floor and crawls over the bed to you is anything to go by.

Save for Sunghoon’s coaching sessions, the two of you are practically joined at the hip for the entire weekend. In the mornings and before bed, you brush your teeth together and don’t even separate to shower, stuffing yourselves in the cubicle to make out and lather shampoo in each other's hair or soap on each other's backs. 

It’s this excess time together that makes waking up to nothing but a note in Sunghoon’s absence so disturbing. His handwriting stirs something in you, the short and sweet: miss you already, please come visit me at work :) 

None of the girls want to go with you, so you find yourself trying on different swimsuits and figuring out what you’ll do at the pool on your own. With four magazines you’ve already read, a book, and your laptop just in case, you make your way there, enjoying the sun on your skin as you walk. 

“Hi!” A chirpy voice makes you flinch when you reach the pool. Sunoo’s whole face is curved into a grin when you look at him. “I’m Sunoo!” he says, extending a hand for you to shake. His grip is firm, not matching his smile at all. “Do you wanna hang out with us?” 

Equal parts excited and scared to say no, you nod. Dumping your bag in a locker, you meet Sunoo out by the changing rooms’ entrance, and he smiles when he sees you. You follow him over to the smaller pool where the rest of the boys are, Sunghoon included, and introduces you. 

The boys look around at one another, wondering if Sunoo knows that all of them have already met you. He doesn’t pay it any mind, jumping in and joining them. They all continue bothering each other while you sit on the edge, dipping your legs into the water. 

Sunghoon, who’s been grinning at you since you arrived, swims over to you and stands in the space between your legs. Cool droplets hit your thighs when he lifts his arms up to wrap around your waist in an embrace that might leave others wondering how many years it’s been since you last saw each other. After promising Jungwon that you won’t make fun of his armbands, you card your fingers through Sunghoon’s wet hair, giggling to yourself when he presses a kiss to your stomach. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

“Well, yes,” he says, looking up at you with a pout on his lips. “I’m just on duty at this pool today. Are you unhappy to be spending time with me?” 

“A little.”

Sunghoon pulls you into the water with him. “Even as a joke I don’t like that you said that.” There’s a crease in his brow that you want to kiss away but he’s already calling the boys over when you have the idea. Before you know it, all seven of them are splashing you with so much vigour that you don’t even bother fighting back. Even Riki who’s taken a liking to you shows no mercy.

As much fun as you had, you can’t help but feel a little drained when Sunghoon takes you home at the end of the day. You end up spending the week with him and his friends, and Riki seems crushed when you politely decline his invitation to poker night on Friday but his spirits lift when you say you’ll treat him to ice cream if he wins. On Saturday afternoon when you get out of the shower, you spend the better part of an hour wrapped in your towel texting Sunghoon, grinning at the messages he sent you while you were catching up on the girls’ group chat. 

sh: riki didn’t win anything last night so don’t let him lie to you, ok baby?

sh: plus im kinda mad at him ngl ..

sh: i wanna see u today

sh: only you

sh: need it :( 

sh: if i find out you’re making plans w riki rn i’ll kill him 

sh: babyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

sh: i miss you can i take you out 

you: why are you beefing a kid ur 500 

sh: you’re older than me ???

you: yes and ur my baby bubu bear 

sh: .. 

sh: picnic baby

sh: ? 

you: yes when

sh: rn.. 

you: uhm..

you: let me go get ready i miss u so bad

Your picnic quickly turns into an evening nap session for Sunghoon who, full on pizza and cider, lays down on his stomach with closed eyes and his cheek on his forearms. Meanwhile, you slowly sip cider from a sun-warmed bottle and pick off bits of pepperoni to eat, knowing Sunghoon will be annoyed about it later. The setting sun shifts the sky through warm oranges and purples, casting its hues over the park and Sunghoon’s sleeping form. 

“Quit watching me,” he mumbles, blinking his eyes open and yawning as he sits back up. Soft hair is all flat on the side he’d been lying on and his lips rest in a pout that, when combined with his eyes resting in a permanent squint, makes him look confused.

You watch with a grin on your face as he sits back on his hands, crossing his legs. “I have something for you, actually.” 

“For me?” you ask, shocked, your brows raise, and butterflies go crazy in your stomach. The thought of Sunghoon seeing something and thinking of you drives you crazy; you’re in way deeper than you could ever have anticipated. 

You hear the bikes whizzing past you, zipping down the cycle path over to your left, you can see the people walking dogs, pushing strollers, jogging, walking. But it still feels like you’re the only people here. The only two people left in the world, sitting on Sunghoon’s blanket in the middle of this park you’ve come to frequent. 

“For you. Do you see anyone else here?” Sunghoon chuckles, though you can see his nervousness peeking through the joy on his face. “Well, kinda for us I guess, to put it properly. You know what? No, it’s dumb. Forget I spoke.” He covers his face with his hands, embarrassed. 

“Something for us?” Even though it’s not a new development, the thought of you both being an us, in any capacity, still makes you giddy, and the butterflies in your stomach are bordering on feral. “Baby, come on. If it’s from you it’s not dumb. I promise I’ll love it.” You nudge his knee gently.

“You promise?” 

“Promise.” Your pinky finds his, linking together for a little while longer than you’d expected. 

“There’s some stuff I have to say first though, is that okay?” he asks, continuing when you nod. “I know you don’t like talking about it, but we should probably have some kind of conversation about what’s going to happen when you go back to uni, you know?” 

The thought of leaving unsettles you; of leaving him, but you’re desperate not to show it. “Yeah,” you say, aiming for calm but hitting upset instead.

Sunghoon chews on his lip before he speaks again. “And you’re happy, right? Like, with me?” 

You nod. Of course, you want to say but the words get caught in your head, how could I not be?

“Good.” Sunghoon smiles. “Because I like you, so much, and I hate the idea of you going back and telling all your friends about the totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe you hooked up with over the summer.” He continues when you nod. “So I’ve been thinking it might be nice if, when your uni friends ask about your summer, and you feel comfortable talking about me, that you tell them about me as your boyfriend.” The uncertainty in his tone doesn’t match the widening grin on his face while speaking, and the word boyfriend comes out as nothing more than a whisper but you hear it clear as day. 

Head spinning, you meet his eyes, a hopeful glint behind them as he watches you. “Do you mean my totally awesome, smokin’ hot, mega babe boyfriend?” 

“It wouldn’t upset me if you said that.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Hold that thought,” he blurts out, opening his backpack. 

Drawing a deep breath, Sunghoon pulls out a pink box with your name written neatly on it before placing it in your lap and asking you to open it. He chews on his lip while he watches. 

WILL YOU BE MY GIRL ? is written on little chocolates that span three rows. The word girl is followed by six empty slots that you can only assume held the word friend. Between the shy look on Sunghoon’s face, and the gesture as a whole your heart leaps jaggedly in your chest. “Will you be my girl?” you read, unable to keep from grinning like a fool.

“I picked them up yesterday before the guys came over, and Riki..” he pauses to sigh, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “He ate part of them. I think he shared them with Jungwon actually — not that it matters. Anyway, the store’s closed on Sundays so I wasn’t able to replace them or anything, and I didn’t wanna wait any longer to ask,” Sunghoon says in a partial ramble. 

You look down at the pretty pink box in your hands and giggle to yourself. His friends are cute, you think. “I mean, they could’ve eaten the girl part.”

Sunghoon nods his head, grinning. “At least the sentiment still stands.” He eats a raspberry before looking up at you expectantly. “So, will you be my girl?”

With a smile spread on your face, you nod. “Yes, Hoon, I’ll be your girl,” you say, hoping he knows you’ve always been his girl. 

You cuddle in the grass with your boyfriend until the sun goes down, giddy from cider and the joys of summer romance when he walks you to your door. The two of you stand under the light at the doorstep, grinning competitively at one another. Reluctantly, Sunghoon bids you goodnight with a kiss and — just like after your first date — he stands there beaming brightly long after you’ve gone inside. 

A few nights later the two of you have your first sleepover as a couple and Sunghoon seems to take the idea in stride, showing up at your door with an overnight bag stuffed with his skincare, actual pyjamas, and snacks. Plus a bottle of wine he brought for his first meeting with your parents, despite having already had an awkward meeting with your mum at 3 a.m. in the hallway two weeks ago.

With his face glowing under the lamp on your desk, Sunghoon makes a show of bringing up the time he’d talked at length about his friends and says he thinks it only fair that you talk about yours. Your college friends. A blush coats his cheeks when you tell him he doesn’t need an excuse or justification to ask you things he’s curious about. 

This results in him sitting cross-legged on the bed in front of you, asking you silly things like what kind of Youtube videos you like to watch (his ears burn red when you say Park Sunghoon skating compilations), and more serious — to him — things like what your first impression of him was (he covers his face when you say I thought you were the cutest boy I’d ever seen, and it upset me that you missed so much school). 

“Do you think we would’ve dated if I was in school more?” 

“We are dating.” 

“I mean back then.”

“When we were five?” 

Sunghoon nods. 

“Even if we did date back then, we’d have broken up by lunchtime.” 

His jaw drops. “But it’s us,” he says like it’s the simplest thing ever. It takes a while to console your pouting boyfriend but when he moves on he gets back to asking about your friends. 

“They’re like.. the only reason I don’t completely regret picking my major.” The words come out before you can help them. You rarely talk with Sunghoon, or anyone, about your major, never mentioning much more than what results you got or the classes you’re taking if someone asks. 

So it doesn’t surprise you that he sees this as an opportunity to ask you about it. “Why do you hate it so much?” 

“It just makes me unhappy.” You feel your lips sagging at the corners when you finish speaking. “And the thought of working in that field forever, or, at all, makes me feel physically sick.” 

“What are you gonna do after graduation?” 

A tightness occupies your chest. You think about your brother, on the other end of the country, favouring texts over calls so no one has to hear the sadness in his voice when asked about work. You think about the future, all the unknowns awaiting you once you leave the familiarity of the education system. “I don’t.. I don’t know.” You hate how small your voice sounds when you say it.

You don’t even realise that you’re crying until Sunghoon mumbles hey, no, baby, it’s okay, and cups your cheeks with his hands, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I’m on your side, okay? You know that. I’m not trying to upset you, baby, just trying to understand. To help.” Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you into him, letting you cry into his shirt. “If I’m going about it the wrong way you can tell me, I never want to make you cry.” 

For a while the two of you sit in silence while Sunghoon rubs your back and kisses the top of your head, only speaking when you’ve stopped sniffling. “How about you finish telling me about the girls? Minjeong, Jimin, Aeri, and Yizhuo, right?”

You don’t even remember telling him their names, besides maybe mentioning missing Minjeong. “You remember their names.” It’s not a question, not really. When you pull away from him, looking up, your heart snags in your chest at the sight. Of lovely Sunghoon and his small smile, the Kuromi headband holding his hair back. You want to cry again. 

“I remember everything you tell me.” 

Everything about him is lovely, from his soft cheeks to the Piplup pyjama pants he’s wearing and the way he’s looking at you with literal heart eyes. 

Knowing that Sunghoon has his last competition coming up, you savour every second with him. Barely sleeping that night trying to prepare for the lonely nights to come, memorising the feeling of his arms and the steady beat of his heart against your ear. 

His training schedule is rigorous and he’s had to stop his shifts at the pool to accommodate it, committing his days to skating and his nights to you when he can. Though he’s always so tired by the time he gets to your house that he can only sleepily sit through dinner with your parents and falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

Like most nights you spend apart, Sunghoon’s face fills your screen, talking about what he did that day that kept him from you. Today’s activity was back-to-back coaching sessions, then going to the movies with the boys, and, now, tired out from pretending to be patient, his eyelids are shut for most of the conversation. He looks so warm and cosy under his duvet that you wish you were there with him, or that he was here with you.

“I can come over if you want me to,” he says, and from the way he sits up, you can tell he means it. 

You hadn’t meant for those thoughts to be verbalised.

Looking to your left, at the space in your bed, you don’t trust yourself to be alone with him. Not here. You do want to see him though. Almost desperately. For the good of you both, you shake your head. “Let’s go for a drive?” 

Sunghoon smiles and your stomach turns. “Give me 25 minutes.” He cuts the phone. 

Sitting in the darkness of his car is way worse than having him in your bed. Having started on your knee, his big hand now rests on your thigh, barely an inch away from where your shorts start. A cold sweat breaks out on your skin. Leaning your head against the window, you let your eyes fall shut while Sunghoon sings SZA quietly. Eventually, the car comes to a stop.

“We’re here.” 

It’s too dark out to see anything properly until Sunghoon opens your door for you. “The park,” you say, looking around at the now familiar street. “Wouldn’t be my first choice for a murder.”  

“If you think about it, it’s sorta perfect. Who would hear you screaming for help at 2 a.m. on a Wednesday?”

Sunghoon pulls his backpack and a fleecy blanket from the backseat, and, with a ridiculous grin, you watch him put the blanket down in the grass, not too far from where he’d parked the car. You leave your sandals to the side and sit down next to him. 

“The store was closed, so we’ll have to deal,” he explains, taking out some fruit and two bottles of water. 

You shake your head. “It’s perfect.” 

Sunghoon lets you feed him strawberries, humming appreciatively around your fingers. You take a few sips of water before shifting on the blanket, turning around in the space between Sunghoon’s open legs and leaning back on his chest. He hums the same SZA song from his car and you can’t help but close your eyes. 

You tip your chin to kiss him, accidentally letting your hand rest on his lap. 

Ever since that day in his room, things between you have found a way to turn sexual after a while. Not that either of you seems to mind. Though you will admit that sometimes it is nice to just sit with Sunghoon and watch the sun come up over the hills by his house. Or to watch Mighty Ducks on your laptop with your head on his shoulder. 

Tonight doesn’t seem like one of those “sometimes”, but you really can’t find it in you to complain or want to change anything when he slips his hand down the front of your shorts. More focused on the way your lips feel on his, Sunghoon lazily runs his finger through your slick for a beat before pushing into you and smiling to himself as you gasp against the kiss. 

You pull away from him, shifting around a little, trying to angle yourself so you can see what you’re doing when you tug his waistband out of the way. The sight of Sunghoon’s cock, of his pretty tip coated in precum that dribbles from his slit down his shaft never gets old. If anything, it only turns you on more and more each time. You stroke him slowly, occasionally letting a finger tease the spot below his head, just the way he likes it.

“Oh, my G—” Sunghoon cuts himself off with a groan, pressing his lips to yours again.

The breeze tickles your arms, keeping you cool despite the way your skin burns under his touch. He’s close to cumming, you can tell in the way his cock twitches in your hold.

“I want you,” he mumbles against your lips. 

“You have me.” Sunghoon lifts his head away from yours after you speak, looking down his nose at you. It seems like he’s searching your face for something as he pushes a third finger into your hole. Something clicks in your head, understanding. “Fuck me,” you say, barely short of begging.

His hips buck up into your still hand. “I don’t have a condom.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“No,” he sighs, shaking his head solemnly. “I wish.” A frown teases at your lips. “Why didn’t you bring one?”

You arch a brow. “Why would I bring a condom when we’re waiting to have sex?” 

“Because I don’t wanna wait anymore.” 

“Ok,” you nod, trying to think as he separates his fingers. “Well, this is.. this is me finding that out, right now.”

Sunghoon’s never put a fourth finger in you before; it’s a tight fit. Your head falls back and you give up your poor attempt at continuing to jerk him off. “I don’t care if you don’t. About condoms.” 

“Oh, you’re on the pill?” 

“I ran out two weeks ago, I thought.. you’d give me—” A moan cuts you off. Sunghoon chuckles. “I thought you’d give me notice or something.” 

“Notice?” he asks, voice high, incredulous. A beat passes. “I don’t care,” he says eventually. “I need you.” 

You nod your head, relieved. Whining a little when Sunghoon pulls his hand out of you, and whining a lot when he sucks on each of his fingers, one at a time. “I’ll get Plan B in the morning,” you say, scrambling to your knees, facing him. 

“We’ll go together.” A soft smile spreads across his lips as he holds you by the waist. “And I’ll ask Jake to pray for us.”

Hungrily, you watch as he pulls his white t-shirt over his head. There’s a flash of something in his eyes. Sunghoon has a firm grip on your shorts, barely a second away from yanking them off when he stops, leaning away. “I’ve never..” he trails off, struggling to hold eye contact. “I’ve had sex just not.. outside,” he whispers, his lips pouting through his words.

Despite your desperation, you can’t help but feel like maybe this shouldn’t be the moment you two have sex for the first time. You almost can’t believe yourself, having Sunghoon here, hot, sweaty, with his kiss-plumped lips, and lidded eyes; his groans, and his sighs; his wandering hands and hard cock pressed against you, yet thinking that maybe you should wait a little longer. 

“We don’t have to do this now.” 

“I do.”

“Okay,” you whisper, relieved, pressing your lips onto his. You shiver in Sunghoon’s hold, cold and chasing his kiss when he pulls away, shuddering at the feeling of his fingertip grazing your collarbone. 

“You’re cold, baby.” 

You shake your head. “I’m not.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, your body betrays you and your teeth chatter. 

Sunghoon frowns at you, playing with some of your hair beside your ear. “You have goosebumps, and your teeth are clattering. I’ll take you home, come on,” he says, letting go of you. 

“I have goosebumps because I’m horny, and I want you to fuck me,” you admit, feeling your need for him in every part of your body. “And I don’t want you to be nice about it either, I’m already your girlfriend.” 

You watch him gulp. Sunghoon’s eyes scan your face. He leans into your touch when you let your palm cup his cheek, his skin is burning hot, if it was any lighter outside you might have been able to see the pink on his face. He wraps his thick fingers around your wrist, letting his thumb stroke the back of your hand, and his pretty eyes find yours. 

“I want to, so bad, but you’re freezing.” He kisses your palm. “How about I take you home and fuck you there, hmm? I won’t be nice, I promise.” 

Oh, God, you think, clenching around nothing. 

Dazed, you almost agree until something clicks. “Take this off,” you say, practically begging as you tug at his knitted hoodie. His brows knit together. “Let me wear it.” Without hesitation, Sunghoon pulls the jumper over his head and slips it over you. “Please, Hoon,” you all but beg, as you put your arms through it. 

The two of you are close enough that you can see his pupils dilating as his eyes trail over your body. “I like my clothes on you.” Is the only thing he says before kissing you again.

Sunghoon’s hands are all over you, eventually settling on the top of your shorts, as he does his best to tug them off. You raise your hips to help him out before settling back into his lap, whining at the feeling of him under you, touching your pussy for the first time. He throbs against you when you grind down on him.

It all seems so real now. He’s so big; so hard, that you start to worry. Suddenly you remember the ache in your jaw every time you suck him off and how much of him is left over, even when his head inches its way down your throat.

Flustered, you start to stall a little, rocking back and forth on his length, coating him in your wetness. You take him in your hand after a while, jerking him a little to spread his precum and your slick all over him. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re whiling up time, and if he does, then he doesn’t seem to care, simply moaning when you lift yourself off of him to stroke your clit with his tip and tease your slit. 

Sunghoon’s teeth worry his bottom lip as you try to take him, his head falling forward, eyes trained on the spot between your bodies where you connect. His hold on your waist is so firm you can practically feel bruises forming under his fingertips and the sting of his cock pushing into you makes you draw a breath. “Just take your time, yeah?” he mumbles. “No rush.” 

No rush? you think, he must be crazy. You don’t think you can wait any longer, trying hard to sink down on him despite the pain of the stretch. You like it, that sting, the heat, you don’t want to go without it ever again. You must be crazy. Fuck, and Sunghoon are the only things you can bring yourself to say.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry,” he tells you. “It’s okay,” he says, though he doesn’t look like he’s doing any better than you are. 

Sunghoon’s head falls forward once you’ve taken all of him, his teeth sinking into the skin at the base of your neck as he lets out a broken whine. Everything feels a little too much to bear. It’s so hot, when did it get so hot? With the last few crumbs of your brain power, you tell yourself to take the hoodie off, but you feel like you can’t move. 

He fits so well, fills you up just right. 

With a shaky breath, he lifts his head to look up at you. “So beautiful.” Sunghoon pushes some of your hair from your face. “Good girl,” he coos, using his thumb to wipe tears you hadn’t even realised were there. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. Taking me so good.”

Sunghoon asks if you’re okay. It sounds like Sunghoon asks if you’re okay.

Your fist balls around the fabric of his cotton shirt. “Warm,” you whisper. “Too warm.” He loosens his grip around your waist, moving his hands to your hips to pull the hoodie off of you. You lean back a little to let him take it off and feel as if you’re being split open, the angle only pushing him deeper. 

With the hoodie off, the cool summer breeze makes you feel a lot better; makes taking him a lot more manageable. So you move. His pretty face scrunches with pleasure, as a long, heady groan comes from his throat. “You feel so good. So tight.” There’s something in his voice that you don’t recognise, desperation, need. Sweat beads along his hairline, the flush in his cheeks so prominent you can see it despite the dark. 

You want to see him like this all the time. Need to.

His hips buck up towards you, seeming to catch you both off guard if the way you gasp simultaneously is anything to go by. He wraps his arm around your waist, his trembling hand beating against your skin, and lets his other hand rest on the blanket behind him, leaning back on it. 

“You’re so good at this,” you sigh. “How are you so good at this?” You practically clamp your mouth shut, not letting yourself say any more lest you propose to him, or worse, expose your breeding kink.

Sunghoon only gives you a languid smile before kissing you. 

It’s more than a little hard to focus on coordinating the movement of your lips and tongue when he’s fucking you the way he is; lifting you off of him so only his tip stays inside, then thrusting all the way back in, deep and slow, trying to feel every single part of you and doing a good job hitting that spot that has you seeing stars. So the kiss is messy and loud, an exchange of spit and moans but you’re way too turned on to care. 

Before long, he uses his hand to pull down the front of your vest, attaching his wet mouth to your nipple instead and your brain short circuits. He moans into your skin when you clench around him, his body stuttering under you.

“Baby, I don’t..” Sunghoon sighs, lifting his head from your chest to look at you. He’s the picture of desire, of lust, with his messy hair and parted lips, the sweat slipping from his brow bone. “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he admits, thick brows pulled into a furrow.

At this rate, you don’t think you will either. His words only make you dizzy, they spur you on as desperation sets in; to see him cum, to feel it. Like always, his sounds are just as pretty as the rest of him, his grunts and his groans, and the ragged breaths that catch in his throat. And you quiver in his lap at the feeling of a knot forming in your stomach, immediately unravelling when his finger catches your clit again. 

Your head falls back. “I’m—” Is the only thing you can say.

“I know, baby, don’t hold back. I wanna see you make a mess.” 

His words send you over the edge, forcing your orgasm out of you while Sunghoon moans and fucks you through it. So good, baby, he mumbles over and over, stuttering through the words when you cum, though you barely hear him over the sound of his cock squelching up into you. 

A shaky breath and the word fuck tumbles from his lips. 

Sunghoon’s thighs tense and his stomach does the same. Shuddering under you, he cums hard, filling you up completely. You’ve never had a guy cum inside before, let alone been fucked without a condom, so you weren’t sure what to expect. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 

Heat courses through you everywhere, and you’ve never been so warm in your life. You can feel every last drop of his hot cum spilling into you, can feel it leaking out around him, slicking up your thighs. Shaking in Sunghoon’s lap, you’re full in the best way, eyes rolling back as your mind goes completely blank. 

Both of you try to catch your breath as he holds onto you tightly, his arms hugging around your waist. You’re having a hard time calming down with him still inside, but you don’t think you could move if you tried, and it seems as though he feels the same, only being able to bring his head away from your chest. With heaving shoulders and a dazed look in his eyes, he smiles up at you, sweet, contagious. Drunk on him, a laugh starts to bubble in your throat, forcing its way out. Sunghoon laughs too, and breathy chuckles slip from you both, happy, delighted. 

He reaches for some napkins, cleaning up what he can with you still in his lap before reaching for his hoodie. You watch as he folds it up a couple of times before putting it down near the blanket’s edge, shifting over a bit to hold you in his arms and lay you down, the hoodie under your head like a pillow. 

You think he must be an angel. 

Gently, he separates your legs to clean you up properly before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. You watch as he looks around the space for something, returning to your feet to help you put your underwear and shorts back on, sniffling a little and making his way to lie down on the grass beside you. Sunghoon reaches over your body and uses the remaining blanket behind you to cover you up. 

Sleepily, you rest your head on his chest, feeling his heart race against your cheek. “You’re so big, Hoon,” you whisper, mind still reeling. 

A beat passes. “Ok, baby, thank you,” he says a little awkwardly, you can feel his chest stutter as he chuckles and you can’t help but smile.

The stars above you beam brightly and you don’t think you’ve ever seen so many at once, peeking through the few dark clouds that drag lazily through the sky.

“You did so well tonight, YN,” Sunghoon tells you after a while. “You always do so well.” Your heart beats in your throat as he kisses the top of your head.

“Really?” 

“Mm,” he hums.

Curious, you look up at him. “What did I do well?” 

“Should I fill out a performance review?” 

“I just wanna know what you’re gonna tell your friends later.” Your heart rate picks up when Sunghoon laughs, sweet, contagious. “I’m serious.”

Into the air above, he huffs a long, dramatic sigh. “You really wanna know?”

“Desperately.”

He leans up on his elbow, looking down at you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, already nervous about what Sunghoon might say. It’s as if he’s the only person in the world, the only one that makes a difference. You can’t help but feel special under his gaze, grateful that you’re the one who gets his attention. His hand is big on the side of your face, his thumb grazes your cheek. 

Sunghoon opens his mouth but closes it before speaking, then brilliant, bright, he smiles. “I think I’m gonna tell them I’m in love with you.” Your breath hitches in your throat. “And, ask Jake to pray for us.” 

And, ask Jake to pray for us, you repeat as if bound by a spell and he nods his head. Overwhelmed, you hide your face in his shirt. “I love you.” 

Back at your place, Sunghoon does a good job of living up to what he’d promised you earlier. Leaving you to wake up that morning in his t-shirt, with your head on his chest and a dull ache between your thighs — though not before, for the first time since primary school, you (and Sunghoon) kneeled by the side of the bed to perform the sign of the cross. He’d stumbled his way through a prayer first and you followed, watching as he sent a text to Jake before eventually drifting off to sleep, tired and sore.

The duvet is bunched at the bottom of the bed, leaving your bare thighs victim to the light breeze rolling through your room. Sunghoon’s mouth is slightly ajar and he snores sweetly. Even in his sleep, his stomach is tight and his soft penis rests cute and limp against his thigh in a way that leaves you stifling a giggle. You want to kiss it. 

Regrettably, you don’t.

“Stop looking at me,” he mumbles, half-heartedly lifting his arm to cover your eyes, though, with his still shut, it ends up resting on your neck.

“I’m not.” 

Sunghoon pries open one of his eyes, catching you. He follows your gaze down his body, groaning when he realises what you’re looking at. “You’re worse than I thought,” he says, sitting up to pull your duvet back over himself, resting over his waist. “I’m never sleeping naked next to you again.” 

You open your mouth to quiz him but he covers your lips with his hand. “Or anyone else, relax.” 

“Good boy,” you mumble, the words muffled against his palm. 

“Ew,” he whispers when you lick his hand, wiping it on your t-shirt before pushing some of your hair away from your face. “How are you feeling, baby?” His voice is soft when he asks, eyes scanning your face for even the slightest sign of discomfort.

“I’m kinda sore, but I’m good.” 

“You are?” There’s pride in his voice when he asks, eyes lighting up for a beat before pressing his lips together, trying to hide a smile. His broad shoulders betray him, trembling with silent laughter. Fuck off, you mumble, just as amused as him. 

Sunghoon clears his throat. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll be gentle next time, promise.” 

Next time. The simple words and all of their hopefulness leave your mind reeling. Laying next to Sunghoon, you grin at the thought of all of your next times with him. Through the seasons of the year; through autumn; through winter, spring, and back to summer again. 

“What’s on your mind?” he asks through a yawn. 

You love him. “I love you.” 

You’re expecting him to kiss you when he starts to lean in, but he pulls you tight against his chest instead. He smells faintly like sweat when he hugs you. Like sweat, and sunblock, and peonies. Like kisses during sunset, and late-night swims. Like the happiest you’ve been in a long, long while. 

“I love you, more.”

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

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