Instead Of You [part Twenty] || L.mh

instead of you [part twenty] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, angst, reader has emetophobia,

word count: 3k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

As soon as the cable car reached the peak, Minho ushered you into the Men’s Room with your head buried in his shoulder so that no one could see you. He blocked the door with the trashcan once you were inside to prevent other people from coming in. Anyone else who had to use the bathroom would just have to hold it until they were back at the loading dock.

You were a goddamn wreck, and that was sugarcoating it. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, your nose was running- you’d gotten some snot on Minho’s shirt, which would have mortified you way more if you weren’t having a meltdown, and you couldn’t catch your breath no matter how hard you tried.

Minho helped you up onto the counter and yanked a bunch of paper towels from the dispenser on the wall for you to blow your nose and wipe your eyes with.

“Thanks,” you murmured as you took them from him.

He slotted himself between your legs, eyes searching your face. He had this helpless look on his face and you just wanted to kiss it off, but that was what had gotten you here in the first place. It was clear that he didn’t really know what to say, and you didn’t blame him.

You, yourself, couldn’t pinpoint the reason you were crying. It was either your paralyzing fear of heights that had sent you spiraling a few minutes prior, or the fact that you were falling for your best friend’s brother and had kissed him… also a few minutes prior. The most likely answer was a combination of both, but you weren’t ready to come to that conclusion.

You let Minho dab at your cheeks with a paper towel, let him attempt damage control, even though you were far beyond repair.

“I’m such a horrible person,” you groaned.

“No, you’re not,” Minho assured you in a hushed tone, but even if he believed what he was saying you knew it was a lie.

In his mind, you had kissed your boyfriend’s brother twice now. Once had been his fault, you were both drunk, and even if you’d shittily played it off like you thought you were kissing Jisung, it was still Minho who had initiated it. The second time was on you. You were sober and you knew exactly what you were doing. But the reality was potentially worse. You’d kissed your best friend’s brother twice, when you were supposed to be pretending to be in love with him. You’d betrayed him, and if he ever found out you were afraid it’d ruin your friendship. And what made it worse, was that stupid list of rules you’d agreed upon on the plane before meeting his family. There was an entire clause dedicated to not flirting with Jisung’s brothers. You were pretty sure kissing went way past flirting, not to mention all of the other things you thought about doing to his brother.

“Yes, I am,” you insisted. “I kissed my boyfriend’s brother! Twice!”

“Technically, the first time was my fault.”

“But the second time- there shouldn’t have even been a second time.” Minho didn’t respond. “I’m the worst girlfriend ever!”

“You’re not the worst girlfriend ever. It’s not like we slept together.”

You gave him a look. “Well, I’m a pretty bad one.”

“I mean, I kissed you back. I’d say that makes me a pretty shitty brother.”

“We’re both awful people,” you seceded, sniffling. “Maybe we deserve each other.”

Minho’s upper lip twitched almost imperceptibly, but he shook his head.

“Are you going to tell Jisung?” he asked.

“Should I?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I just- I know it’s wrong not to tell him, but I don’t want to hurt him.”

“I mean, you love him, right?”

“Yes.” You answered automatically, because for the millionth time, you did love Jisung. But not in the way Minho thought you did.

“And you don’t want to break up with him?”

“No, I don’t.” You stared at the ground, suddenly fascinated with the dirty grout between the tiles. “Do you think he’d forgive me if I told him?”

Minho didn’t respond right away and your heart sank. “Probably. Eventually. But I don’t think he’d forgive me.”

You felt your eyes well up with tears again. “B-but you’re his brother. He has to forgive you.”

“Jisung, uh,” he paused and you thought he might’ve been getting emotional too. “Jisung hasn’t had it very easy because of me. I know he’s always kind of felt like he was living in my shadow, that’s why he went abroad for uni. He’s completely unique, you know? Of course you know, you’re his- anyway. He’s got his own talents and ambitions, and so many achievements! But he feels they pale in comparison to mine. I think most of it comes from people who used to pretend to be his friend or use him to get to me. I know h- I know he resents me for it.”

You shook your head. “That’s not true.”

“Why do you think he never told you what I do for a living? Why do you think I’m always joking about him being upset with me?” You pursed your lips, unable to give him an answer. “Exactly. And you, I’ve never seen Jisung look at anyone like the way he looks at you. If he finds out I kissed you, more than once, if he finds out that I think-” he stopped short. “That’s just one more thing he thinks he’s lost to me. I don’t think he could forgive me for that.”

“He’d get over it eventually,” you tried.

“I don’t know if he would.”

You could tell Minho had been beating himself up over this for a while. Maybe you had more in common than you thought.

You weren’t sure if Jisung would forgive you either if you were being honest with yourself. You knew Minho was right on some level. Jisung had always been a little possessive of you, but it wasn’t until you met his brother that you understood why. You’d stabbed him in the back in spite of that, and yet part of you still wanted Minho.

You wanted to take him by the collar and kiss him again and again until you couldn’t think anymore. You wanted him to kiss you back, chasing your lips like he couldn’t get enough of you.

He was like the sun: blinding and brilliant and warm. If you lingered in his presence for too long you’d get burned.

“I have an idea,” Minho murmured finally after a painful silence. “You’re not going to like it.”

“What is it?”

“Maybe… tell Jisung after the trip is over? I know it’s asking a lot, but it’ll just make things less complicated.”

“I… don’t think I’m going to tell him,” you said quietly.

“Wait, really?”

You nodded. “I don’t want to ruin you and Ji’s relationship.” And selfishly, I don’t want to ruin me and Ji’s relationship.

“Are you sure?”

“I think so.” You sighed and pushed your hair out of your eyes. “I’m sorry for kissing you.

“It’s fine. Guess we’re even now.” He gave you a weak grin.

“Yeah, we’re even. Consider your IOU voided.”

“Do you still have the postcard?”

“It’s in my backpack back in Tokyo.”

His smile brightened and he opened his mouth to respond, but at the same time, the door to the bathroom rattled against the trash can as someone tried to get in.

“Sorry, man, it’s um, out of order,” Minho sputtered out in a panic as he walked over and pushed the door closed with more force. He held his hand to it for several seconds as the person on the other side continued wrestling with it.

You gave him an anxious look, but he just returned the look and shrugged. He seemed entirely too calm for someone who was about to be discovered in the men’s room with a woman that looked like she’d just been railed. You looked like a mess for a completely different reason, but you knew no one would believe you if you tried to explain yourself. And after being recognized once today it wouldn’t surprise you if it happened again. Minho was pretty famous. Getting caught fucking someone in a bathroom halfway across the world wasn’t a great look for a K-pop idol.

Maybe you should get down from off the counter. Sitting up there only made you look guiltier.

Minho didn’t let up until the knocking eventually stopped. He was stronger than you thought he’d be. He’d only used one hand to hold the door closed while the other person had seemingly thrown their whole body weight into it. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said casually and helped you hop down. “Your eyes are still pretty red, you should splash some cold water on your face.”

You followed his advice and turned on the faucet, cupping your hands underneath the running water and bringing them to your face. The chill was a shock to your system, grounding you in the moment and helping soothe the burning of your cheeks.

You straightened up and made eye contact with Minho in the mirror who had been standing behind you the entire time watching. He handed you another paper towel to dry off with. You thanked him silently and turned around, looking to him for his approval.

He gave you a once over, uncrossing his arms and reaching toward you hesitantly. “Can I?” he asked, eyes flitting to yours. You nodded and he brushed a strand of hair out of your eyes. “There.” His voice had dropped to a whisper and you found yourself staring at his lips again. He was a walking distraction. He didn’t even have to do anything to have you at a loss for words. “I think… we should probably keep our distance from each other. At least, for a little while.”

You did your best to ignore the pang in your chest as you nodded in agreement. He was right, and you knew that. The fact that he was the one to suggest it should be a relief to you, but it wasn’t.

“Okay, let’s go back down to the bus before they leave us here.”

Minho held your hand in the cable car on the way back down the mountain, but neither of you spoke. The bus was also silent. Minus the handholding.

There was only one more stop before the tour was finally over and you could collapse into bed and try to forget the entire thing. It was a bullet train that would take you back to Tokyo, but it was running a couple minutes behind so your tour group was ditched at the train station by the guides who left with the buses while you waited.

You were standing next to Minho on the platform when his mother pulled you aside suddenly, asking to speak with you for a moment. Your heart leapt into your throat as you followed her a couple paces away from the group. What could she possibly want to talk to you about? Did she know something? Was she going to confront you about how close you seemed to be with the son you weren’t dating? A million possibilities ran through your mind, but you honestly had no idea what to expect.

“Is everything okay?” you asked breathlessly.

“Oh, everything’s fine! I’m sorry if I worried you by asking for a word. I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Jisung earlier today and he mentioned your… aversion to stomach illnesses so Dom and I looked to see if there were any extra rooms available at the hotel and we’ve booked you your own for the next few days until we leave. Jisung can join you when he’s feeling better, but we didn’t want you to have to deal with that ickiness.”

“Oh my god, you didn’t have to do that!” you exclaimed, embarrassed that Jisung had told his mom about your stupid irrational fear.

“Well, you and Jisung were supposed to have your own room anyway, but someone,” she looked pointedly at her husband, “messed that up. We would’ve switched you both sooner, but nothing at the resort had opened up. It’s not a big deal, trust me, okay? We want you to get some good rest and I know you won’t be able to do that with the twins keeping you up all night. We know Minho will be fine with them, but you shouldn’t have to suffer through that.”

You clutched your hands to your heart. “That’s so thoughtful of you, thank you!”

“Of course! We just want you to be comfortable, love.”

You thanked her again, but she insisted that it was really nothing and let you get back to standing silently with Minho.

The train pulled up a few minutes later and everyone got their tickets stamped as they boarded and filed into their seats. You and Minho sat across from each other while his parents took the seats beside you- Dom next to Minho and Nikki next to you.

It had been a long day so no one was in much of a mood to talk, thankfully. You tried to nap, but you were still too on edge to relax. The events of the day had exhausted you, but not enough for your body to give in to sleep. It was like your brain was trying to protect you from letting your guard down.

Y: what did you say to your mom??

J: what do you mean

Y: she told me you talked to her about my “aversion” and now i have my own room??

J: oh yeah

J: you’re welcome ;)

Y: it’s EMBARRASSING

Y: they got me my own hotel room??? like? i don’t want them to spend extra money on me!!

J: technically they were already going to spend that money anyway but dad fucked up the reservations. they’re still saving money

Y: ig but still :(

J: look, i knew you wouldn’t get any sleep tn if you came back to our room. i still can’t keep much down and neither can felix. it’ll just stress you out- not to mention that you have a tendency to puke whenever you’re around people who are also sick

Y: …

J: you know i’m right

J: i didn’t want you to be miserable

Y: i know…

Y: thank you. i love you.

J: always :)

J: and make some use of that alone time ;)

You rolled your eyes and slipped your phone in your pocket. His idea might help you relieve some stress, but you knew you’d be out like a light as soon as your head hit your pillow.

Your new room was much smaller than the one you shared with the Han boys, but it was cozy. It was on a completely different floor, which made you feel a little lonely, but mostly you were relieved to have your own space. There wasn’t a kitchenette like there had been in the other one, which wouldn’t be a problem since you weren’t going to be doing any cooking, and a queen-size bed lay in the middle of the room. You almost cried when you saw it, thinking about how you’d get the whole thing to yourself for at least a night.

As tired as you were, you still took the time to shower the day off. You scrubbed yourself with the bar of hotel soap until your skin was raw and the bottom of the tub was full of suds. All of the sweat and grime was long gone, but you still felt dirty.

Eventually, you gave up and rinsed yourself off before wrapping one of those big white towels around you and calling it a night.

You went to sleep naked, not having bothered collecting a change of clothes from the boys’ room. You didn’t want to venture in there if you didn’t have to, and you’d just text Jisung in the morning to bring you something to wear anyway.

-

The morning came far too quickly. You felt like you had barely blinked and the sun had already risen. It was past nine, the Hans had let you sleep in a little, but only barely. There were still plans for today, and you had to be downstairs and ready for them in a little less than an hour. You weren’t sure if the twins were feeling up to tagging along today, but you hoped they would. You didn’t know how you were going to spend another day alone with Minho- especially now that you had agreed to keep a distance from each other.

You texted Jisung to ask him to bring up a change of clothes. His mom had left the second key to the room with him so that he could join you when he was feeling up to it so you told him that he could just let himself in and leave the clothes on the bed.

Instead of waiting around, you decided to be proactive. You pushed yourself out of bed, groaning at the stiffness of your muscles, and made your way into the bathroom to wash your face. You used the bar of hand soap sitting on the counter to lather up- against your better judgment- and then rinsed it off with cold water to wake yourself up.

As you dried off with a washcloth you heard the door to your hotel room open and close and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Y/n?”

“In here!” you called back, not thinking twice about it. Jisung had seen you naked plenty of times, and even though you had told him to leave the clothes on the bed you figured he might just want to say hi or something.

The bathroom door slid open and you turned towards Jisung to ask how he was feeling, except it wasn’t Jisung standing there. It was Minho.

no taglist bc i'm feeling lazy sowwy... but lmk what you think i always appreciated feedback!!

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HELLO STRANGER. PART FIVE.

PAIRING: minho ft. hyunjin x fem!reader GENRE: smut, angst, fluff, soulmate!au. enemies to lovers. jealousy. pining. unrequited love. WORD COUNT: 5.4k

masterlist and taglist ♡ pt.1 | pt.4

do not repost to other sites, including translations.

You came. You came to the thought of Minho wrapped around you and… inside you. Minho. The same Minho who tossed what remained of your self esteem into the dirt and pressed it so deep into the earth you have no idea if you’ll ever find it again. 

It’s fine. 

You’d already accepted he was pretty, maybe the prettiest person you’d ever seen. But that was before. Before he’d called you an infection and made you feel so, so, small. It was easy to see past his pretty face after that. 

And then he’d been kind. Fucking sat with you through a storm and asked you if you were okay and told you not to cry. It’s not enough. It shouldn’t be enough. He has an unfair advantage. He was picked out for you. Soulmates. Soulmates. Soulmates.

Keep reading

PLEASE.

kinda want to write a seungmin fic now

instead of you [part twenty-one] || l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni)

word count: 4.5k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“Oh fuck, I-” Minho sputtered, frozen to the spot with wide eyes. His reflexes kicked in a second later and he spun around, squeezing his eyes shut and covering them with his free hand as you attempted to cover yourself with your hands. “I’m so, so sorry!”

“It’s fine! You’re fine!” you cried as you yanked your towel down from the hook it was resting on. You wrapped it around yourself and secured it like a sleeveless dress.

“Where did you want your, uh, clothes?” he asked, holding them out to you, eyes still closed.

“Here, I’ll just take them. You can open your eyes now, by the way.”

Minho opened them hesitantly, like he couldn’t tell if you were being serious. He relaxed a little when he realized you were wearing a towel, but still appeared on edge. He handed you the folded stack of clothes, gaze lingering on your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure if it was because he couldn’t meet your eyes, or if-

“I’ll just wait out here,” he said quietly and backed out of the bathroom.

You rushed to get dressed, pulling the T-shirt and shorts on in record time. You didn’t have time to think about how Minho had seen and touched your bra and underwear because you were too busy thinking about how he had just seen you naked, which was arguably far worse.

Back in the main room, Minho was sitting on the bed with his hands in his lap. He scrambled to his feet when he saw you, awkwardly shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay.” You were out of breath. It was like you had just run up several flights of stairs.

“No, it’s not!”

“It was an accident.”

“Yeah, but…” he trailed off. “I don’t know, I feel like after what happened yesterday, this is the exact opposite of what we talked about.”

Right, the distance thing.

“But this doesn’t count,” you said automatically. “Unless-”

“Unless what?”

Unless you liked what you saw.

“Nothing, never mind.”

Minho looked like he wanted to press further, but didn’t. Probably because he knew he wouldn’t like what you’d say. “Jisung sent me to bring you the clothes because he still wasn’t feeling great, and he didn’t want you getting anxious over… you know,” he explained.

“That was nice of you.”

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t like I could tell him that I was trying to stay away from you.”

Ouch.

You frowned. If Minho noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it. He rocked back on his heels nervously, hands still in his pockets.

“Jisung also told me to tell you I love you.”

“What?” you gasped.

“He said, ‘tell y/n: I love you’.”

“Oh.” Why the fuck had he phrased it like that? “Got it. I, uh, won’t make you say it back to him. I’ll just text him.”

“Thank god.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I should get going… the twins are probably wondering what’s taking me so long.”

“Probably,” you agreed.

“I just stuck around because I wanted to apologize again.”

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I felt like I needed to.”

You walked him to the door in silence, lagging behind as Minho reached the threshold.

“See you downstairs?” he asked, turning to face you one last time.

“Yep.”

“It’s going to be just the two of us again,” he added. “Since Jisung and Felix are still feeling a little under the weather.”

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach. You could tell Minho was feeling the same.

“It’ll be fine,” he said unconvincingly. “Just one more day.”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh.”

“Guess I’ll… see you down there.”

Minho seemed to remember that he was supposed to be leaving and grabbed for the doorknob behind him, missing a couple of times before finally getting hold of it.

“Yeah, see you.”

As soon as he was gone, you snatched your phone off the dresser to give Jisung an earful only to see a bunch of messages that you had missed.

J: i’m still not feeling great so i’m gonna send minho to bring you your clothes

J: hope that’s ok

J: did you fall back asleep??

J: doesn’t really matter anyway bc i’ll just give him my key

You wanted to bang your head against the wall. If you had just taken your phone with you to the bathroom this would have never happened. You sighed to yourself and texted him back. You figured that you might as well tell him what happened. It’d be one less secret you had to keep from him.

Y: your brother saw me naked

J: WHAT

Y: i didn’t see your messages!!! it was an accident he felt really bad

S: he should

Y: jisung!!!

J: what! i’m justified in being upset

Y: it’s not like that and you know it

It was a half-truth, but you were trying to do some damage control. You didn’t think he’d have such a strong reaction.

J: still!! you’re my fake gf not his

Y: he was doing you a favor

Y: don’t yell at him

J: i wasn’t going to yell at him

Y: …

J: fine i won’t say anything

Y: good, because it’s literally not a big deal

You ended the conversation by telling him to get some rest and that you’d see him later and then went to meet his parents downstairs. He texted you back saying to have fun and that he hoped to join you in your room later that night.

The day was spent exploring a botanical garden in the heart of Tokyo. You and Minho created a scavenger hunt game where you would give each other different plants to find and then time how long it took you to actually find it in the greenhouse. His parents bought lunch and brought it to the outdoor part of the garden to have a picnic.

They’d gotten a pitcher of American-style lemonade for you. You hadn’t even realized how much you missed home until you took your first sip from the clear plastic cup.

And in the evening you wandered the grounds of the Imperial Palace as the sun set behind the castle walls. The Hans booked an official tour, but the tour guide let you all do your own thing after the walkthrough since you were his last group of the day.

You and Minho walked around the courtyard in silence together while his parents chatted with the guide about the history of the grand doors. Neither of you had anything to say to the other. Casual niceties and small talk were exhausting and you’d already spent all day exchanging them. But you had to keep it surface level with each other. You’d agreed.

Night was encroaching on the city, casting shadows off of the palace roof onto the pavement below. They cut through the golden light that lingered from the sinking sun, cloaking half the courtyard in darkness. The line that divided the halves ran right between you and Minho, leaving you standing in the dark while Minho’s figure was illuminated with the light. If you were in a novel, some college lit student would write an entire dissertation on the ironic metaphor of it all with an argument about the tension written in between the lines.

-

The next day was a free day. Jisung ended up spending the night with you and you both slept in late. You woke up with your head resting on his shoulder and he smiled fondly over at you, setting his phone down on the nightstand. You were confused until he rolled over onto you, resting the weight of his entire body onto yours.

“I missed you!” he cried dramatically.

“I was just asleep!” you choked back.

“I meant the past two days,” he clarified.

You tried pushing him off of you, but he was too heavy. “Missed you too, idiot.”

“It sure doesn’t seem like it!” he scoffed. “You’re trying to push me away!”

“You’re heavy!”

“Excuses, excuses,” he tsked, but ended up rolling off of you back onto his side anyway. You gasped for air and he just rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “What do you want to do today?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that question. You’re the one who missed out on all the activities we did.”

“You know I don’t really care about all that stuff. I have more fun when it’s just the two of us anyway.”

“I’m flattered.”

“You already knew that, and the bar isn’t very high.”

Your jaw dropped. “I’m offended on behalf of your family and myself!”

“What happened to being flattered?”

“You literally insulted me in the next breath!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“You think you’re so fun to be around?” you demanded.

“Oh, we’re going there?” Jisung raised an eyebrow and propped himself up on one of his elbows.

“You already did!” you shot back. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. With a big sigh, you rolled over away from him stubbornly, muttering, “you are fun to be around.”

“I know I am.”

“You’re such a dick!”

“I know I am,” he repeated. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

You surrendered and flopped onto your back, a declaration of peace.

“I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess if you weren’t fun,” you added.

Jisung chuckled. “Yeah, but it hasn’t been so bad, has it? The trip, I mean.”

You don’t know the half of it, you thought to yourself.

“No, it hasn’t been.”

“We can make anything fun,” he decided.

“We’re the life of the party,” you agreed sarcastically.

“We are!” your best friend insisted. “How do you think we got nicknames?”

“By making fools of ourselves,” you snorted.

“And that’s fun.”

“I’m banned from four frats because of our reputation.”

“That’s because they can’t handle Drunk and Drunker.”

“No, it’s because I stole shit from them and got caught.”

Jisung shrugged, brushing your explanation off. “Okay, but think about all the times you got away with it! I still have that old Delta Chi composite hanging in the living room of my apartment.”

“I wonder if they’ve realized it’s missing by now.”

“They’ve had to, right?”

“I dunno, academics aren’t really their forte.” You pushed Jisung’s chest, changing the subject. “C’mon, what should we do today? It’s our last day in Japan.”

“Why don’t we walk around the city? See what we find.”

It was mid-afternoon by the time you finally made your way out of the hotel. You wanted to take it easy since Jisung was still recovering from his bout of food poisoning, but he assured you that he was perfectly fine. You walked together aimlessly for blocks, stopping in gift shops and bodegas to look at the trinkets and souvenirs on display. You bought a miniature snow globe with tiny little torii in front of Mt. Fuji, and a cheap silver ring with engravings of cherry blossoms all around it. You convinced Jisung to buy a case of sake to send back to his apartment in the states, and he also got a keychain with the Tokyo Tower dangling from it.

You ended up at a quirky techno-themed diner for a late lunch slash early dinner. The servers were actually robots that zoomed around taking orders and delivering meals. Apparently, restaurants like this were really popular in Japan, and you could see why. The colorful atmosphere was warm, and it was bustling with activity. You finally convinced Jisung to let you pick up the tab this time. You grabbed the check as soon as the pink robot spat out the ticket, inserting your card in the slot where their “mouth” was before Jisung could change his mind.

Both of you agreed to call it an early night after wandering for another couple of hours. The shops were beginning to close for the evening, and you had a flight to catch in the morning. It didn’t make sense to stay out and chase the sun since you’d be rising with it soon enough.

Dusk settled on the city like a fine layer of dust. Stars began to shine weakly through the fading sunset as night turned the sky purple.

Jisung took the lead back to the hotel, revoking your GPS privileges after you got lost twice. He put on a movie while the two of you got ready for bed together. It was one they played on cable all the time back home, dubbed in Japanese with English subtitles. But neither of you really paid much attention to it. Jisung was too busy brushing his teeth and washing his face, and you were already half-asleep, fighting to keep your eyes open. If anything, the movie playing in the background was making it harder to stay up.

You had almost drifted off when a buzz from your phone underneath your pillow startled you awake. You groaned, cursing yourself for forgetting to put it on Do Not Disturb. You checked the notification anyway, just in case it was important.

You squinted at the screen and tapped on the message. It was a text from Minho.

M: i need a favor

You groaned and rolled over onto your side. Jisung was still brushing his teeth, but you didn’t want to risk him reading over your shoulder just in case Minho were to say something damning. It was odd for him to be texting you in the first place so you imagined it couldn’t be anything good.

Y: it’s 11pm what do you want

M: do you have a condom

Y: do i have a what now

M: a condom

M: it’s kind of urgent

You rolled your eyes. Was he serious? He could easily pop down to a convenience store and buy an entire box of them and fuck whoever he wanted to his heart’s content. And why was he texting you of all people to ask for one? Maybe you were overreacting. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Friends ask friends for condoms all of the time, right? It was just like asking for a pad… kind of.

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. Minho could have sex with whoever he wanted. The prospect of him in a stranger’s bed made your stomach churn, but it wasn’t your place to judge, not when you’d spent countless nights in the very same position. Not when you weren’t even available to him in the first place.

Y: are you fucking kidding

M: no…

Y: can’t you ask one of your brothers for one

M: ji isn’t answering my texts

You glanced over at the bedside table on Jisung’s side of the bed where his phone had been buzzing for a couple of minutes. Of course.

M: pls- i’ll owe you one

Y: we can’t keep going back and forth with these ious

M: why not

Y: …

M: do you have one or not- this is kind of time-sensitive

Y: sorry didn’t realize your dick softens so quickly

M: OH

M: it’s not for… that. sorry, should’ve specified

Y: then what the fuck is it for

M: listen just bring it downstairs to the hotel bar you’ll see what i need it for

Y: fine. i’ll be down in two.

“Jisung!” you called across the room. He popped his head out of the bathroom. “Do you have a condom?”

Even from afar, you could see his eyes widen.

“What, why?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for your brother.”

“Felix?”

“Other one.”

“Minho?”

“Yeah, he said he texted you, but you didn’t answer.”

“So he asks my girlfriend?”

“Listen, I don’t pretend to know what goes on in your brother’s head. He knows we’re having sex so he probably figured we have some. And he says it’s not for sex, so I don’t even know what he needs it for.”

Jisung shook his head but chuckled weakly.

“There should be some in my backpack.”

“Wow, you brought condoms on our ‘no sex’ trip?” you scoffed.

“It’s the same backpack I used for uni. I just never took them out.”

“So you’d just carry them around to your classes? Thinking you could squeeze in a quickie between labs?” You flinched as he threw a washcloth at you.

“You’re so annoying,” he groaned. “Don’t you have an errand to run?”

You smirked, pushing yourself out of bed. “Don’t you have a classmate to fuck?”

You didn’t bother changing before heading downstairs to the bar. You wouldn’t be down there for more than a minute, so you figured there was no point. You were wearing the same t-shirt and boxers combo that you usually wore to sleep, but the shirt was so long that it practically covered the shorts. You couldn’t remember where you had gotten it, it was a graphic tee for an anime you’d never seen. Some girl had probably left it at your place after hooking up.

You saw Felix first, which answered the question of why Minho couldn’t have just asked him for a condom. Minho was sitting beside him, talking to the bartender. The place looked relatively empty, aside from Jisung’s brothers and a couple of other patrons sitting around them, all participating in the same conversation.

“Here,” you said, clearing your throat to get Minho’s attention.

His face lit up as he turned to greet you, the movement drawing everyone else’s attention as well. You fought the urge to cross your arms over your chest, wanting to make yourself feel smaller in front of all of the strangers. It was stupid to get self-conscious all of a sudden, even if you were the only one in your pajamas. And it looked like you weren’t wearing pants.

“Oh, thank you so much,” he exclaimed.

“Yeah, no problem,” you mumbled.

You turned to leave, only to be stopped as Minho grabbed your wrist.

“Wait, don’t you want to see what I needed it for?”

You sighed, shrugging noncommittally. “Something tells me I’m going to be disappointed.”

“Probably, but I’m sure you’re used to it,” he said with a wink, holding up the condom for emphasis.

His comment caught you off guard. He was right, you were used to disappointment when it came to sleeping with men, but you couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a dig at his own brother. Minho was drunk, tipsy at the very least, evidenced by his flushed cheeks and thick accent. Not like you couldn’t tell from what he’d just said to you.

You rolled your eyes at him but didn’t deny it. If he needed a refresher of what your “sex life” was like, you could give him an encore to your Easy A performance when you were sharing a wall again.

Felix nudged Minho’s shoulder, reminding him that he had an audience that was waiting.

Minho turned back towards the bar on his stool and grabbed something from behind the counter that you couldn’t see before pivoting back in the direction of you and the rest of the patrons. In one hand was a jar of maraschino cherries. In the other was the condom.

He ripped the foil packet open with his teeth and gingerly pulled the contraceptive out. He stretched the latex over the lid of the jar, grimacing as he struggled to make it fit. Once the condom was on the jar he held it up for everyone to see, and then used his free hand to tug at the loose rubber at the end. The lid resisted the pull for a brief second, but then twisted and popped off the glass with a loud suction sound.

The bartender and the other observers applauded enthusiastically as Minho handed the open jar back. You bit the inside of your cheek as you took a deep breath, trying to suppress your anger. It didn’t work.

“That’s it?” you asked, voice brimming with annoyance. “That’s what you dragged me all the way down here for?”

“None of us could get it open,” Minho explained defensively. “We all tried, and then I remembered this trick I saw in a YouTube video and-”

“I was about to go to sleep!”

“Look, Angela wanted a Shirley Temple,” he argued, nodding at the clear glass of fizzy red liquid the bartender was sliding across the counter to a blonde woman. “Daiki went to make her one and couldn’t open the new jar of cherries so he asked Lix and I to try-”

“You already gave me the abbreviated version of the story,” you huffed. “I don’t need the full one.”

“I just thought you should know that the cherries were actually going to use. We weren’t just playing a game of ‘who can open this jar’. Although if we were, I would’ve won.”

Felix snorted and shook his head at his older brother, sipping his own drink wordlessly.

“You’re drunk,” you scoffed. “Both of you are.”

Minho ignored the statement, eyes softening a bit as he gazed at your face. “Thank you again, by the way. Sorry for making you come all the way down here. I owe you one.”

You sighed, your frustration dissipating as you stared into his warm brown eyes. “Whatever, I’m fucking exhausted, okay? I’m going to bed.”

“Wait-” Minho stopped you for the second time that night by grabbing your wrist again. “Did you… want it back?”

“Want what back? The condom? Ew, no!”

“Well it’s not technically used,” he pointed out.

“I don’t think anyone wants to put something that’s ‘not technically used’ in their vagina, but maybe that’s just me. I don’t know how many people have touched that jar- you can do whatever you want with it. I don’t care. We have plenty more.”

Minho pursed his lips and nodded abruptly at the last sentence, like that was the uncomfortable point in the conversation.

“Yeah, okay uh, goodnight then.”

“Goodnight, Minho. Goodnight, Felix.”

-

“What was it for?” Jisung asked as soon as you fell into bed next to him. He had been reading the book you finished a couple of days ago, but dogeared it and let it rest on his chest to give you his full attention.

“He used it to open a jar of cherries,” you mumbled into your pillow.

“What?”

“Angela wanted a Shirley Temple.”

“Who’s Angela?”

“Like I said, I don’t know what goes on in your brother’s head.”

“Fair enough,” he sighed and placed the book on the bedside table. “Come on, let’s get some sleep before our flight tomorrow.”

-

The next destination on the trip was your choice, and to say you were nervous was an understatement. For one, you had never been to Shanghai so you didn’t know what to expect. Even the excursions you’d chosen had relatively vague descriptions so everything was up in the air. For two, you wanted the Hans to have a good time. You were terrified that they would hate the experience and think you’d made the worst choice of the group.

The flight to Shanghai from Tokyo was only around three hours long, but it felt a thousand times longer than the sixteen-hour one from Italy you’d been on just a little over a week ago.

Jisung knew you were anxious about the days ahead so he let you have the window seat while he sat in the middle and helped Minho draft choreography ideas for a project he’d be working on when he got back. You didn’t know what it was for, you didn’t want to ask after what happened last time.

It was sweet of Jisung to offer to help his older brother. You knew he wasn’t too fond of Minho’s career and the attention that came with it, but to see him still willing to put that aside to lend a hand.

Usually, Felix would be the one to help Minho with this sort of thing, but he had opted to sit with his parents to get some work done so Jisung was filling in.

“Maybe you should change career paths,” you whispered in the middle of one of their little breaks, seizing the opportunity to sneak a word in as Minho finished making notes on the section they’d just gone over.

“You think so?”

You nodded. “You’re pretty good at this. Maybe it runs in the family.”

“Felix did force me to enter the school talent show with him a few years ago,” he mumbled.

“What? Why have you never told me this? Is there a recording of it? I need to watch it immediately.”

“That’s exactly why I never told you.”

“You can’t just drop this information on me and expect me not to want to watch it.”

“Okay, well, fat chance.”

“I’ll do that thing you like,” you blurted.

Minho’s eyebrow quirked up slightly at that, showing you that he was listening to you and Jisung’s conversation. You knew how it sounded, which was partly intentional, but you were really just talking about a drinking game your best friend loved. The “game” involved matching Jisung shot for shot at whatever restaurant you happened to be at. It wasn’t so much of a game as it was your best friend thinking it was hilarious to see you sloppy drunk. It was a well-known fact that Jisung could out-drink you without even trying. In fact, every time you’d played this “game” you could barely remember anything about the night, other than your devastating loss.

He knew what you were talking about immediately, eyes lighting up. “Really?” he asked, squeezing your thigh in excitement. “Promise?”

“Promise,” you agreed. “But it has to be on a night where we’re not doing anything the next day.”

Minho cleared his throat suddenly, clearly having heard enough of what he likely thought was a very different conversation.

“One second,” Jisung told his brother. “Fine, you can see the recording. But you can’t tell any of our friends back home about it.”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” you assured him. He grinned at you in satisfaction and took your hand in his, resting them together on his lap. “Can’t believe my boyfriend is a dancer,” you teased.

“Listen, if I’m going to change careers now, I won’t be able to cook for you anymore. You know that, right?”

You sighed dramatically. “Never mind. God knows I can’t cook. We’d starve.”

“Guess you’re stuck with a chef boyfriend,” he said with a shrug.

“I think I can live with that.”

“I sure hope so. Because I don’t know that I’m cut out for the spotlight.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” you argued playfully.

“Yeah, well that’d be one more thing I have to share with my brother,” he muttered lowly. Your pulse quickened and you snuck a panicked glance at Minho. You couldn’t tell if he was still listening, but something told you that Jisung didn’t care. He was trying to come off as sarcastic, but you could hear the genuine bitterness hidden underneath. “Or should I say compete with him for,” he added, smirking to himself. “And we both know I’d never win against him.”

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Only You - C.San

Tags/Warnings: Boxer!San, kinda sorta tsundere!reader if you squint but not really, best friends to lovers, fighting/violence, blood, fluff, yall this was supposed to be less than 1k….and this is so not proofread but fuck it we ball

Word Count: 3.5k

Playlist:

“Are We Still Friends” by Tyler the Creator “Baby Boy” by Kevin Abstract “only you” by karri

You watched with bated breath as San went to the corner of the ring, blood and a dark bruise gathered at the corner of his mouth. Your nails dug into your palms as you clenched your fists in anticipation. You knew that he could take care of himself, he’s spent years learning various martial arts, has been in the ring more times than you could count. 

So why are you always on edge when you watch him fight? Why does your heart race with every punch?

Wooyoung sprayed water from the bottle he had on the side right onto San’s mouth, using a towel swung over his shoulder to dab at the sweat and blood on his face. San tilted his head back, resting against the post behind the stool he was spread on. Woo tilted in to whisper something into San’s ear, something that caused his eyes to blink open and scan the crowd. Eventually, his eyes landed on you, and you saw his lip twitch a bit, before taking a hand and moving Woo off his shoulder, never leaving your gaze. You gave him a little nod, a small semblance of motivation, and put a fist up. It was your silent way of telling him to get up and kick his ass.

And so with your encouragement, San stood back up, body relaxed and you watched as you knew what was to come next. You had seen this move a hundred times by now to know exactly what to look for in his bodily movements. 

The opponent steps forward with a cocky grin, ready to continue his onslaught of punches. But San simply looks at him, eyebrow raised, before swinging his body around, launching himself into the air. It was all so quick, yet it felt like time stopped as his foot collided with his opponent’s face.

The crowd silenced for a split second, everyone holding their breaths. That was until Wooyoung jumped into the ring, stack of cash in hand, and went directly to the opponent, counting down on his fingers right in the man’s unconscious face. After three counts, with no sign of fight from the opponent, the crowd went into an uproar.

You jumped from your chair, and yelled out San’s name, cheering him on from your seat. You could see the tiredness in his eyes, but his excitement overshadowed it. You watched as Wooyoung took San’s hand and raised it up, crowning him the champion of the match. Eventually, people pushed up onto the mat and crowded around San, leaving Woo to leave and collect the betting money from all the losers. However, before he stepped away, San grabbed his collar lightly to hold him back, leaning in to whisper something into his ear. Woo simply nodded, waving his hand at his friend, before walking away, still collecting the money.

You observed as San gave his signature smile to everyone surrounding him, even with the busted lip and bruising at the corner of his mouth. His eyes curved into crescents, dimples appearing as he talked to his fans and signed whatever they were jutting out in front of him. It made your chest flutter, seeing him go from this scary and cold rough boxer to your warm, kind-hearted best friend. 

“Hey,” a voice called out to the side of you, hand landing gently on your arm. You jumped at the feeling, before relaxing once you realized it was Woo. A smile cracked across your face. “Hey Youngie, how’d yall make out?” You gestured your head towards the cash in his hand. He looked down and smirked, slapping the stack against his hand.

“Not too terrible, I’d say. I still have to make some more rounds before people try to sneak out on me, but hey, Sannie said he wanted to see you in the back.” He looked over at the man still in the ring talking to people, now signing some man’s arm. It made you chuckle as you watched the various people fawn over him. But you could see something. It was a split second, but you caught it nonetheless. As someone’s hand came down to pat his back, his face winced, but he quickly cleared it up before anyone could notice.

Anyone but you and Woo, of course.

“Please check on him,” his eyebrows were taut, worry written across his face. “You know how he can get after fights. Make him rest.” His eyes found yours, and his usual playfulness wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“I’ll try. If he actually listens though is the thing.” You offered up a half smile as Wooyoung laughs out.

“Please, only you could tell him to fight a mountain lion with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded and he would do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.” His playful smirk was back on his face as you rolled your eyes. You wanted to poke at him and tell him to not overexaggerate so much, but you couldn’t. It was true, and you knew it. You were one of, if not the only, person San would listen to no matter what. Perks of being his best friend for such a long time.

“You know how to get to the back?” Woo pointed over his shoulder to a door with a red sign on it. Staff Only. You nodded, having been back there a handful of times before his matches to wish him luck and give him a hug. Woo nodded, giving you a quick one-armed hug, before leaving off to get the rest of his and San’s money. 

You shouldered your way through the bustling crowd, trying to keep a straight line toward the door. Finally reaching it after what felt like forever, you pushed it open, slipping through and ensuring no one followed behind you. The last thing you’d want is San being mobbed in the locker room while he was trying to have his own time.

The locker room wasn’t like the typical locker room you had in school. You remembered how surprised you felt when you first walked into it. It was a smaller square room, the left wall lined with cubbies for people to put their items away in. One of them was filled with San’s belongings, while the others remained empty, save for a medical kit. On the right was a long couch that took up most of the wall, and two rolling chairs sat near it. In the corner next to the couch was a small refrigerator for people to put away the water bottles and any other items they needed to keep cold. The walls were covered in red brick, and the flooring was a black Berber carpet. Probably so no one could see the stains…

You made yourself comfortable on the couch, not knowing when San would be able to peel himself away from his fans. Picking at your nails, you could only think back to the way San looked at you before he ended the match. Something in his eyes seemed different, an emotion you don’t remember ever seeing in him. You couldn’t quite place it though, and it was frustrating. You knew him like the back of your hand, knew what every face, every quirk of his eyebrow, every curl of his lip was saying. You wondered if you were simply overthinking it. Maybe he was just trying to find some sort of encouragement outside of Woo. Maybe he was just making sure you were watching his signature move so he could ask you later how cool you thought it was for the millionth time.

You shook your head, trying to clear it of his sly smirk and pretty dimples.

Suddenly, you heard a click at the door, and your eyes shot up from where they were staring at your hands. You watched as San walked in, hair wet and a new set of clothes on, turning around to lock the door behind him to keep from being pestered while trying to rest. His shoulders sagged from their usual position, something that had you quirk your head to the side. He took a lot of pride in having such a perfect posture, so you knew he had to be beyond tired at this point. He rested his forehead against the door, giving you a chance to take note of all the various bruises not hidden by his clean white tank that had already formed or were forming along his arms and back. You could see a cut on his shoulder that had blood slowly forming around the edges.

“Sannie,” Your voice called out quietly to not startle him. He lifted his head off the door, turning around to see you. In an instant, his face brightened up, a smile gracing his features for a second before the pain took over and his bruised hand came up to his lip. You stood up and walked over to grab his arm, leading him over to the couch. He let you push him down against it gently before you moved over to grab the medical kit and come back to him. You sat down next to him, opened the kit, and guided his head to face you. The cuts and bruises littering his face made you tsk and shake your head a bit, before letting his chin go.

“Well hello to you too.” He smirked and winced again at the pain. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile playing on your lips at hearing his voice full of playfulness.

“You’re an idiot, letting him get this many hits on you.” You murmured, eyes looking through the kit to find ointment and alcohol wipes.

“Wow, not even a congratulations?” He feigned hurt, grabbing at his chest as his eyebrows furrowed together.

“You don’t need a congratulation from me, San. I knew you were going to win from the start.” You pulled out one of the wipe packets and started dabbing at the cut on his arm lightly, letting him get used to the stinging sensation of the alcohol before pressing any harder. You felt goosebumps stick up on his arm as you held his arm to keep steady. One side of his mouth quirked up in amusement, showing a bit of his teeth.

“You knew I’d win?”

“Yes, San. I always know you’re gonna win.” You grabbed one of the ointment packets out and ripped it, pushing a bit of the paste on your finger. You gently spread it across the cut until it was fully covered.

“And why’s that?” You looked up to see his eyes fixed on you, watching every movement. Your body froze under his intense eyes, face heating up. But you shook it off quickly, setting the ointment packet down to grab one of the bandaids from the kit.

“Because,” you split the bandaid wrapper. “You’re the best there is.” You placed the bandaid that wasn’t quite the honey tone of his skin on top of the cut to keep it clean. It wasn’t a lie, there was no one else you could think of that fought with the intensity and precision he did. You looked up again to see his eyes were still trained on your face, his ever-present smirk still there.

“Yeah?” His tone was cocky, and you had to remind yourself that you were in the middle of bandaging him up to tear your eyes away.

Something was different. Typically, even when it was just you two, you would playfully flirt, not ever meaning anything serious about it. You had been best friends for years, and you were comfortable with each other. You told each other everything and nothing ever felt off or awkward. So why did you feel so tense right now? Why did it feel like all your senses were turned to 11? You let out a breath as a way to bring yourself back to the task.

“Yes. Now, stop talking so I can take care of these cuts.” You gave him a pointed look, a look he was definitely familiar with when you were trying to get his stubborn ass to do something. He nodded with a hum, and you grabbed your wipe again, making sure you had a clean part of it, before wiping at the cut on his cheek. The position was awkward, having to slightly contort his head and neck so that you could reach it.

“Why don’t you– Just– Here.” He never fully finished his sentence before he was grabbing your waist and pulled you into his lap, causing you to let out a sharp inhale at the sudden shift. Your body was frozen yet again. Both of you had been close before, especially with how touchy San could be, always wanting to have skinship. You had even woken up a handful of times after sleepovers (aka you both had too much to drink after partying and you refused to let him leave out so drunk) with his arm wrapped around you. But you had never had this before. Sitting in his lap, faces inches away, his hands still resting on your waist.

“This okay?” He asked, searching in your eyes for something. You realized you had been staring at him with your hands frozen in front of you, and you finally moved after you processed his voice.

“Ye–ahem–Yeah, this is good. Better.” You got out, getting back to work and patching his face up. Your wipe moved from the cut on his cheek to the bruise at the corner of his mouth, gently dabbing at it to clean up the dried blood he managed to miss in his shower. Luckily, you didn’t find a cut there and used your thumb to move his skin around a bit to make sure you didn’t miss anything before grabbing the ointment again and using your finger to spread it out on the cut on his cheek. 

You tried not to think too much about how you could smell the refreshing scent of his body wash. Or how his hair smelled a bit like peppermint. Or how warm his hands felt still holding on to your waist. How you could see and feel his eyes watching you carefully as if he wanted to say something. You grabbed a smaller bandaid from the kit and placed it across the gash to make sure it healed well.

“Done.” You stated with a shaky breath as you gathered up all the trash and moved off his lap. You turned around to find the trashcan and didn’t catch the slight slump of his shoulders when the pressure and warmth of your body on his was gone. You tossed the trash and came back over, grabbing a rolling chair to bring in front of him and sit in.

“It was a pretty intense fight, Sannie. You let him get a few good hits I know you could have blocked. So…why?” You propped your legs up on the couch next to him, careful to not accidentally kick him with your close proximity. He leaned his body back to rest against the couch, arms coming up to drape across the back of it, and his legs extended on either side of your chair. You couldn’t deny that you felt something twist in your gut at the sight of him, but you were focused on his answer to your question.

“Woo and I talked before the match about that. He says that if I get my ass kicked around a bit at the beginning, people are more likely to bet against me in higher amounts, especially if they haven’t seen me fight before.” He huffed out, eyes closed to give them a rest from the ceiling lights. You nodded and tried to look anywhere besides his bobbing Adam's apple. 

“I guess it makes sense. But…I’m just…worried I guess. With how much you let the other guy rough you up. I’ve seen you in some pretty harsh shape but this, San? This is brutal.” You waved your hand in front of his body as if he could see.

“Ah, it’s not the worst. You remember when I got my ribs broken?”

“That was because you were still trying to figure out how to properly do your crescent kick and fell flat on your side, dumbass. Not the same thing as letting someone else beat you black and blue.” He quirked up an eyebrow at that and shrugged his head a bit. You went quiet, a question on the tip of your tongue but you struggled with how to word it. You looked back down at your fingers again, picking again at your nails. 

You didn’t realize how San opened his eyes and raised his head at your sudden silence, watching as you let your nervous habit take over. He leaned over to grab at your hands to keep you from picking at them anymore, and you looked up to once again see his concerned eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

It never failed that you would be amazed at how well he knew you.

“When or maybe why did you decide to quit letting him hit you if you and Woo knew that you were making money?” Your eyebrows furrowed together as the question finally left out. His hands loosened up around yours and his eyes widened a bit at the question, face slightly flushing. “There was a moment when I saw you and you changed entirely. Why? Did Woo say something?”

He pursed his lips and looked down at where your hands were still connected, his brain jostling around with how to answer you. Eventually, he nodded, jaw clenching and unclenching, and he raised his head to face you.

“I guess it’s best if I just tell you now,” he huffed, making you even more confused. “When I’m in the ring, I have to calculate everything, have to constantly watch for everything that the other guy is doing. And there are moments when it feels…pointless. Like it’s all for nothing. Like I should just give up and let them lay me out, you know?”

You took in everything he was saying, trying to process his words and the emotions that came with them.

“Wooyoung wanted me to throw the match more so he could collect more bets. But…when I looked out and I saw you…I needed to make you proud.” He was ultra hesitant with his words, cautiously scanning your face to gauge out your reactions. It was funny how this man, someone who’s been said to have a cold heart in the ring and iron fists you would never want to meet, is instantly turned into a nervous mess when it came to you. Your heart was beating in your throat now, watching him back with wide eyes trying to understand what he was exactly saying.

“God, it’s just–...I don’t–...fuck, I guess it’s just–...” He keeps cutting himself off, the words he wished to say not forming right in his mouth. Sensing his frustration, you rubbed your thumb over the bruised knuckles, a soothing tactic you knew helped him. And it did, as you saw his face relax from the way it was scrunched up.

“It’s okay Sannie, take your time.” You spoke as gently as possible, not wanting him to feel rushed at getting the right words, or even feel pressured to say them at all. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath through his nose, before opening them back to level with you.

“When I’m in the ring, and all these thoughts get to my head, all I can think about is you. Only you. How you encourage me to keep going, your smile and your voice telling me to finish the match. All I can think about is how your eyes light up when I finally win.” 

You felt completely frozen at his confession, thumbs having stopped their movements since. It felt as if your brain had been slowed in its comprehension skills, and you had to repeat every word he said in your head five times over for it to truly sink in.

“So…you–”

“I like you,” he blurted out, face and neck turning pink. “A lot. More than as your best friend. I like every little detail about you and it just drives me insane not being able to tell you, so I am now. And if you don’t feel the same, well then we can just sort of forget this whole–”

“I like you too, Sannie. More than as a best friend as well.” You interrupted his rant, hands moving from his to grab his face, making sure he hears you. “I’ve been so confused for so long about these emotions I’ve had for you, but I think I’m starting to realize that they haven’t been platonic for a while.” You could feel your ears heating up at your admission, and this feeling of anxiety in your chest relaxed as you were able to tell him your feelings confidently.

And as he smiled at you, eyes twinkling and full of pure love for you, you start to wonder how anyone could see this man as a fighter with a cold heart. In the end, he would always be your Sannie.

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This was written by @/ro-written and is not to be plagiarized, translated, or distributed anywhere else. Copyright Ro-Written 2023.

All comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome!

the arms make yet another appearance.....rip to @skzfaker and me