- College Au American Footballers!lee Minho & Han Jisung X Cheerleader!fem!reader

𝐛𝐨𝐥𝐝 - college au american footballers!lee minho & han jisung x cheerleader!fem!reader

wc: 14.3k

cw: some boy x boy action, mc is inexperienced but a secret perv, mc is dumb and forgets what polyamory is, subsequent polyamorous relationship, reader is described to be smaller than minsung, smoking weed, getting drunk, hyunlix are menaces, SMUT MDNI.

synopsis: you’re not too experienced in the world of dating, parties and talking to people, but these two american footballers that you cheer for just seem to get it.

a/n: SORRY :D! as usual, smut warnings under the cut :3

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: making out when drunk, spit kink (a lot of it), cumplay, making out with cum involved, rimming (m rec), boys kissing, anal fingering (m&f rec), oral (m&f rec), threesome, handjob, A LOT OF DIRTY TALK, minho’s mean but affectionate, painplay, degradation, slight? humiliation, breeding kink, pet names: jagi, baby, kitty, gorgeous

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Throughout high school, and everything that came before it, you were never into sports. You were the girl that got shouted at by the rest of the team in P.E because you’d flinch as soon as the ball came near you. You had a sick note every lesson towards the end of high school. You’d walk the mile instead of run. You just weren’t cut out for physical activity.

It was the same reason you’d been so unpopular in school. Popularity went to the athletes, the girls who were svelte and toned, and although your mother would swear you were beautiful, you never had much luck making friends or getting boyfriends growing up.

Of course, when you came to university, you chose a non-bodily exhausting major. Fine art was a fair bet for you since you’d always been good at drawing, and you decided you could go for something you were skilled at so you could still enjoy the university experience. It was a win win. Then, you’d surprisingly befriended Hyunjin, an ethereal man with the beauty of a model out of a magazine - and then came along Felix, his other best friend who studied computer science. They’d actually helped you lose your virginity with your first - and thus far, only - one night stand. Although the experience was less than enjoyable, more awkward, you were still thankful.

It was a month later that they told you they were both cheerleaders for the American football team. You grinned and said how cool it was. They’d asked you to join. You said no. They were popular, too - always going to parties and events, and you considered that would be your fate if you joined. It was terrifying. This went on for the rest of your first year. The trauma from high school P.E lessons prevented you from even considering it, even while they told you that it wasn’t really that tiring. Cheering was still a sport, and that’s what kept you back from joining.

Until you finally gave in.

“I don’t know, isn’t the skirt a bit… Too short?” You mumbled. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in Hyunjin’s room, letting Felix fiddle with your hair and slide a red and white bow on it. It matched the rest of your uniform, a bright crimson mixed with a more subtle ivory. It was your university’s colours, and the same colours the American football players would wear. Felix was behind you and Hyunjin stood beside you - both in their matching uniforms, skirts and all.

Felix looked like he was about to ascend with the happiness on his face. You felt like you could die from the anxiety.

“It’s meant to be short, darling,” Hyunjin quipped, smoothing down the pleats on your skirt. “You need to look so good for tonight.”

You squeaked. Felix rolled his eyes, glaring at Hyunjin. He’d given away the secret. “What’s tonight?”

Felix sighed. His face appeared next to you in the mirror, half of his hair pulled up with a bow matching yours. His hands stroked down your shoulders with a soft smile, as if he was scared to release this information unto you. You stared at his button nose, covered in freckles, too anxious to look into his eyes. “So… there’s an initiation when you join. Sort of a ritual, it happens every year with the new recruits.”

Hyunjin was now sprawled on his bed, hands fiddling with some rolling papers. A baggie of weed was on his lap, over his pleated skirt. You grimaced at the audacity, despite knowing you were inevitably going to ask for some.

“It’s a party,” Hyunjin said, sprinkling weed into the paper. “It’s nothing terrifying. Just that the new recruits have to all be handcuffed to a member of the football team, and they have to play Truth or Dare to be set free.”

“Well, I just won’t play then,” You decided, nodding your head at the reflection in the mirror. Felix bit his lip, staring at you. Hyunjin’s movements paused. “… What is it?”

“We already nominated you. There’s an uneven number of recruits, too, so… you’re handcuffed to two.”

“Two?! No, you’re both deranged. It’s not happening.” Hyunjin simply raised an eyebrow at your words.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

It was definitely happening. That much was clear when you all arrived at the party, adequately stoned and just as tipsy from your pregaming at Hyunjin’s. You were fiddling with your skirt, trying to pull it down just a bit lower, but Felix slapped your hand away with a playful glare. Felix pushed the door open and entered as if he owned the place. The location of the party was some massive house on campus, full to the brim of sweaty, gyrating bodies in different sports uniforms. You were out of your depth.

Felix and Hyunjin noticed your awkward demeanour almost immediately and dragged you into the kitchen. Once he’d found a bottle of alcohol, Hyunjin poured all three of you vodka shots each to drink. He was hoping it would get you out of your shell, a wistful smile on his plump lips.

You grimaced as the burn hit your throat, nose scrunched. Felix giggled, and then he spun you around, hands on your waist. “Okay, so. We’re going to steal this bottle of vodka, take it into the living room, then you get handcuffed to your American footballers of choice.”

You blinked. “Choice? Who chose?”

“Jihyo,” Hyunjin replied, appearing on your other side. He handed you a plastic cup full of a strange coloured concoction before pushing his long, dark hair out of his eyes.

You knew Jihyo, actually. She was the captain of the cheerleading team and had been nothing but lovely to you since you joined. She’d even saved you the embarrassment of auditioning in front of the vice captain, letting you just cheer in front of her alone with the routine Felix and Hyunjin drilled into you. You hoped she’d be lenient on who she chose for you tonight.

Letting yourself be dragged into the living room by Hyunjin, you clutched your cup to ensure you didn’t spill it with the jostling. It tasted bad, but you drank it anyway, ignoring the taste. It would cure your anxiety - or at least act like a placebo effect.

The living room was even more crowded than the hallway and the kitchen. It had you on edge, fingers quivering around your cup despite Hyunjin and Felix hanging off of your either arm. These were the exact types of parties you hadn’t been invited to in high school, and now you were there. Honestly? It was kind of underwhelming, despite the amount of people.

“Okay, it’s time to meet your two footballers!” Felix sounded excited, almost bouncing. When you turned to him, Hyunjin was standing on his other side with blushing cheeks and a just as excited smile. You sighed. This was going to be awkward. There was a circle of footballers and cheerleaders sitting around in a circle, an empty bottle being spun around and landing on whoever was going to be asked truth or dare. The other new recruits were already handcuffed - oh, no. Were you late?

“You’re late!” Jihyo shrieked, shooting up from her spot on the floor. That answered your question. Her skirt was just as short as yours, which made you feel better. She wore it as if it was meant for her, though. You knew you just looked weird. She flicked her short, dark red hair out of her face before pointing at two males in the circle. “You’re partnered with Jisung and Minho.”

“Who?” You whispered, before Felix giggled loudly.

“Jihyo, that’s evil. Not those two! Especially not Minho!” Felix yelled, making your jaw drop.

You were suddenly very intimidated. You already were, but now the guy you were forced to be handcuffed to was, well… you’d have to ask. “Oh, no. Is he nasty?”

Jihyo shrugged, a smile playing on her lips. “Ask him yourself.”

All of a sudden, you were being pushed down by Jihyo into the large, uneven circle of people into the gap between the two football players. You could literally feel your hands sweating and just hoped to God that the two boys beside you couldn’t feel it. Felix and Hyunjin had moved to the opposite end of the room, not part of the circle but still monitoring the situation. Jihyo kneeled in front of you, fiddling with two sets of handcuffs until they were successfully attached to both of your wrists.

It was time to bite the bullet. You looked to your left as Jihyo was attaching the other end of your handcuffs to one of the football players. You were met with feline-like eyes, plump lips and broad shoulders appearing even broader with the shoulder pads from his uniform. His eyes flitted to you and he looked to be holding back a grin. Were you that ridiculous? The guy was beautiful. It made you feel slightly insecure even just sitting next to him.

Turning to your right, you saw your other assigned football player. You were met with softer features this time - round, chocolate brown eyes and a doll-like mouth, surrounded by the cutest pouty cheeks. Unlike the first guy, this one raised his spare hand with a little ‘hello!’ and you smiled, waving back. He was cute when he smiled at you, his teeth gleaming in the low light. He seemed friendly, so you introduced yourself.

“Hi! I’m Jisung, that one on your other side is Minho. He’s kinda grumpy, but he means well,” Jisung told you, making you giggle. Minho tried to reach over you to swat Jisung, but the handcuffs prohibited his movements. “Damn! Okay, okay, he’s not grumpy.”

“I’m really nice,” Minho said, smiling softly at you. You took a mental note of his cute bunny teeth. “I’m definitely not grumpy. Not to pretty girls, anyway.”

You could literally feel yourself blushing.

“Um, okay,” You blurted. Jisung choked on a laugh. “So, what’s the rules of this whole thing? How do I get set free?”

“You have to drink every time you refuse to answer a question or do a dare. Once you’ve answered five questions or when you’ve done five dares, we get set free,” When you turned to Jisung upon him speaking, it seemed like his face was closer. You blushed. His hair was long but pushed relatively back, and his red and white uniform looked to be cinched around a very slender waist. He was fucking hot. It had you imagining - would they both fuck you if you asked? At the same time? They seemed to come as a package deal. “It’s super simple. I bet it’ll only take, like, an hour.”

“An hour?!” An hour of being locked up to these two sexy men. You’d die.

“Yep,” Jihyo chirped. When she spun the bottle, sitting on the other end of it to you, it landed on you as if she’d planned it. You groaned. Jisung was pouring extra vodka into your cup. “Okay, truth or dare?”

Truth seemed the safest. “Truth.”

“Do you think anyone in this room is sexy?”

A giggle brought your attention to Hyunjin, legs splayed over another football player. You thought it was Chan, one of the Aussies that Felix was close with. “She obviously thinks I’m hot. I mean, everyone does.”

“Hyunjin, shut up,” Minho said, but he sounded fond. Interesting. So your best friends knew these sexy ass guys, and didn’t introduce you to them. How selfish.

“I’m going to have to drink, unfortunately. I don’t really want to make it awkward..” You mumbled, taking a large gulp from your cup. Unfortunately, Jisung had poured vodka in it and nothing else, so you grimaced as the burn travelled down your throat. Jisung giggled again from beside you. Evil. He was evil. “Jisung!”

Jisung only laughed louder, refilling your drink after the massive amount you’d downed. Minho, however, was still staring at you with an unreadable look.

“Really?” He questioned. “You won’t even admit it?”

You blushed. “I-“

“Leave her alone, Lee Minho! If she wants to drink, she can drink,” Felix shouted to your defence. You gave him a smile, very thankful. You didn’t want to be interrogated by the exact person you found sexy. Well, one of the two.

Unfortunately, the rest of the game went quite similar to the first round. You’d be asked a personal question, or told to do a dare that was definitely too unruly for you, and then you’d drink. Always drinking the straight vodka that Jisung gave you had an impact, too - before you knew it, you were slurring your words and your head was fuzzy with the effects of being tipsy. Jisung was laughing at you, just as drunk, and Minho was looking between you two with an amused expression.

Minho being a tease was another thing you managed to work out. You grumbled at one point, yanking on the handcuffs. “Jihyo, can I be let out now? I’ve drunk more than anyone else and ‘m tipsy, please!”

Minho chuckled, inching closer to you. “You don’t wanna be attached to me anymore? That’s a shame.”

“Never said that,” You mumbled, making your own cheeks blush as you looked at your hands. On your opposite side, Jisung was just as tipsy as you and looked to be giggling at something Felix had said. All of the other recruits were free and had left, but there you were - still looking dumb sat cross legged in your little cheerleader skirt.

“Bestie, should we take you and Hyunnie home? I’m sure you can set her free now, Jihyo,” Your eyes flitted to Felix, and then to Hyunjin, utterly stoned next to him. His eyes were a hue of red and he had a permanent smile on his face. He needed food, and then sleep.

Jihyo nodded hesitantly in response to Felix, and with a swift move, she undid your shackles. You were more than thankful to be free, but - oh. You didn’t want to go. You were kind of having fun drinking with Minho and Jisung. They were easy on the eyes, and all.

“I don’t wanna go!” You whined. “Can I stay? Minho and Jisung will look after me, right?” You knew you were slurring your words, but the way Jisung slung an arm around you made you feel content. Minho even laughed, shaking his head in a fond manner.

“We’ll look after her if she wants to keep drinking, Lixie,” Minho said, his tone hushed. “You know we won’t do anything weird.”

Felix shrugged. “I trust you both. Okay, have her back safe later! I’m gonna carry this lug to get food. Jihyo, you coming?”

When the rest of the room left, you suddenly realised that you were left with Minho and Jisung. You’d only met them that night, and in all honesty - it was kind of awkward now that it was just the three of you. Clearly you were the only one feeling the awkwardness, though. Minho stretched out leisurely like a cat, and Jisung was already in pursuit of a few ciders he found in the corner.

“So, my vote is that me and you wind down with a few ciders, and then Minho rolls us a joint,” Jisung chirped, settling in closer to you. “I’m so buzzed right now, I’m having such a good time. Hey, why have I never seen you around before? You’re friends with Lix and Hyunjin.”

“Ah, parties aren’t really my whole thing. I’m… I’m not very good with lots of people in one place, to be honest,” You felt like you were admitting way too much, too quickly, but Jisung nodded in agreement.

“I’m the same. It’s a bitch, but I’m glad you joined cheerleading. You can knock back vodka like a pro! Even Minho thought so,” Jisung points at Minho. He’d been quiet until now, but the tips of his ears burned a tell-tale crimson.

“It was quite impressive, I have to admit,” Minho nodded. “What made you join cheerleading? Sorry about the twenty-one questions, but you didn’t answer any during the game.”

“Yeah. That’s to do with the whole ‘not good at talking to people’ thing, y’know? But… Now that it’s just the three of us, I think that I’m okay,” You gushed, words slightly slurring together. The two footballers nodded their heads understandingly anyway, Jisung handing you an opened cider. You took the drink gratefully, sipping on the bitter apple taste. “Hyunjin and Felix convinced me to join, to answer your question. I wasn’t a big sports person in school.”

“Same here. I used to do boxing, but never football,” Minho leaned back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him. Jisung still sat cross-legged, much closer to you than Minho was. “I only really took up football in my senior year of high school, because I knew I wanted to come here and they have a pretty good football team.”

You nodded, humming. “What about you, Jisung?”

“I’ve always played,” He swigged back a large amount of cider. His fingers played with a loose thread on his uniform top nervously, until Minho swatted his hand away. Jisung giggled, then carried on talking. “Me and my elder brother play. It’s kind of a family thing, I suppose. Hey, Minho, what’s the status of that joint?”

Minho groaned, stretching his arms above his head. “My weed’s in our room,” Minho’s eyes flickered between you and Jisung, and then he bit his lip. Bunny teeth dug into plush skin, and you found your eyes settled directly on it. Minho soothed the bite with his tongue, and then he nodded decisively. “Do you wanna come up and get high, watch a movie with us? No funny business, I promise.”

You shrugged. The alcohol had made you considerably less shy. “Why not? I chill with Felix and Hyunjin like this a lot, it’s all good.”

“Yay! You’re actually going to roll one?” Jisung looked elated, grinning at Minho. Minho sighed, standing up.

“Why don’t you just roll one yourself, Ji?” You elbowed Jisung playfully. You had no idea where the nickname came from, but Jisung pouted anyway at your statement.

“I can’t roll. I’m so bad at it. Do you roll?”

You tried to suppress a smile, but it was impossible around these two. “No. Hyunjin rolls for me.”

“God! You’re both like weed princesses. Like pillow princesses, but with weed,” Minho’s fake-insult made you and Jisung fall about in a fit of giggles. “C’mon. I may have something that you can wear, so that you’re more comfortable.”

You and Jisung stumbled up the stairs behind Minho, still giggling when you arrived at their room. It was bigger than you expected, two twin beds pushed apart with one side of the room reasonably clean. You assumed that was Minho’s, because the other side contained an unmade bed and rap artist posters that just screamed Jisung’s energy to you. There was quite a large TV situated in the middle of the room, between the two beds and pushed against the wall.

“Are we pushing the beds together?” Jisung asked, as if this was a normal occurrence. Minho hummed dismissively, starting to dig through one of his drawers. Jisung started moving the beds in front of the TV just as Minho pulled out a decent looking t-shirt and shorts, passing them to you.

“You can change in here, we’ll turn around. I’ve gotta roll us a joint anyway,” You nodded at Minho’s words. You watched as Minho walked over to the desk, back facing you and you wiggled out of your uniform. You had to remember to bring that home the next day - it was the first game tomorrow.

It hit you that you were in the shared room of two boys you’d met for the first time that night. Jisung was laid on the bed solemnly with his eyes shut so he couldn’t see you, and Minho was facing away while he rolled the joint. They were respectful, but nonetheless this was so, so out of character for you - you were even putting one of their t-shirts on while you were having an internal breakdown. Weirdly, you trusted them. They were open, friendly with you from the get go.

“I never do stuff like this,” You admitted, blushing. When you finally turned around, now fully clothed, Jisung was only in pyjama bottoms. You had to avoid the urge to freak out because where was he hiding that body? He was broad but lean, the hint of abdominal muscles on his tummy. He was sexy, and his waist was just as slender as you thought. You shrugged it off anyway, and Minho turned to face you, licking the joint. That almost also caused an internal freak out, because why is he keeping eye contact while he’s licking it like that?

“Like what?” Minho mumbled, staring at his work of art.

“I’m normally first to leave the party. I never stay late and chill with people in their homes. I’m just… not like that.”

“I get it,” Jisung agreed, shifting on the bed sheets. He patted a space next to him and you climbed onto the makeshift double bed obediently, laying down with your hands folded over your tummy. “It’s the people thing, right? But, you’re being bold. We’re about to get high. The most important thing is… are you having fun?”

Were you? God, you were. Two attractive men were about to smoke weed with you, one of your all time favourite pastimes to get rid of your anxiety, and you were going to chill and watch a movie too. That’s your top idea of fun. You found yourself smiling, nodding up at Jisung, to which he smiled back. He understood.

When you finally turned away from Jisung after a second too long, Minho had changed too, into some grey shorts and a t-shirt. You stared at his thighs while he cracked open a window, and then he was on the bed in front of you.

“The guest of honour should light the joint,” He mused, handing it to you. “It’s the rules.”

“Um.. I need an ashtray. Is it really okay to smoke in here, like-“

“Everyone in this house smokes in their rooms,” Jisung comforted you. After that, he was handing you a small transparent dish. “Ash it in here. We’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

The first inhale of the joint was delicious. You much preferred being high and open minded than drunk and open minded - it was more fun that way. You tended to just brush things off with a laugh rather than overthink them. After a few tokes, you passed it to Minho, and he asked the most important question.

“What film should we watch?” Jisung looked at you. You looked at Jisung, and then you were both looking at Minho. Minho sighed, exhaling smoke in your direction. “You’re both going to make me choose.”

“Yup!” Jisung chirped, snatching the joint out of Minho’s hand. Minho grumbled, displeased but still smiling as he reached for the remote. Within a few minutes, he’d clicked on some random comedy film on Netflix. The joint was passed around until the room was sufficiently hazy and all three of you were laying on the bed, you in the middle.

You felt a little trapped, but not in a claustrophobic sense. The boys were so, so close to you, and even though you three were all relaxed and laughing at the film, the secret pervert inside of you couldn’t help but rear its head. You could make out with them right now. You won’t, but you could. It’d be way too bold for you to do that, and-

“We should make out,” Jisung’s voice cut through the giggles. Minho swatted him, still laughing but chiding as if Jisung was a child. You, however, were wide-eyed.

“M-Make out?”

“Making out is better when you’re high,” Minho explained, his cheeks blazing red from the effects of the weed. “He always asks me to make out too.”

You blinked. Your eyes flitted between the two men, Jisung still gazing at you. “You two..?”

“We make out all the time. Sometimes we fuck, no strings attached. It’s fun,” Jisung said, shifting on the bed so that he was closer to you. “You wanna make out?”

Could you? You’d been extremely bold, and that was even further than bold. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t been thinking of it all night, though, and if Hyunjin and Felix could see you now, they’d be so proud.

You answered Jisung’s question by grabbing his head, one hand on the back of it and yanking him down to kiss you. He squeaked in surprise, but he was quick to let his tongue press into your mouth, pouty lips wet against yours. He was half-laying on top of you, the position a little awkward but God, he was right. It felt so much better making out with someone when you were high. You let your tongue press against his, the kiss more of a sloppy exchange than a real, precise kiss.

You pulled away with a wet noise, humming. “‘S better, you were right.”

“Yeah?” Jisung asked, his eyes trained on your lips. “Again, then?”

“Yeah.” This time, he was initiating the kiss, his hands going to your waist. His touch was light, but you squirmed to feel more of his hands on top of you. You wanted more, especially when his teeth lightly nipped on your bottom lip and his lips sucked your tongue into his mouth. It was filthy, and it had something burning in your gut in the most delicious way.

“You two look fucking amazing,” Minho. You’d kind of forgotten he was there. When you pulled away again, you turned, staring at him. His eyes were dark and his cute teeth were biting into his bottom lip again, looking pillowy and plush.

“Min,” You murmured, grabbing his hand. Jisung let out a puff of air, amused. “C’mere. I wanna kiss you too.”

“You sure?” Minho asked, but he was already moving from his place on the pillows to where you were, just a bit further down. Jisung moved off of you, obediently letting Minho take his place. Minho’s hand came up to your face, one thumb swiping along your bottom lip. It was still wet from Jisung’s mouth. “I’m not going to fuck you. You’ve had too much to drink, and smoke… But I’ll make out with you, is that okay?”

“Mm, yeah. This is super bold for me,” You giggled. In the same breath, you took Minho’s thumb into your mouth. You sucked on it, just a soft suction, but Minho still sighed deeply, eyes trained on your mouth.

“I think you’re sexy when you’re bold. You’re cute otherwise, too,” Jisung chimed in, making you smile. Before you could answer, Minho was leaning down, his dark hair tickling your forehead as he pressed his tongue into your mouth. He was more calculated than Jisung, his hand that was on your face previously now enveloped in your hair, pulling the strands just a little. It made you whine against his mouth, squirming, and he replied with a bite to your lip. “Is it good? He’s a good kisser, isn’t he?”

You hummed, still pulling Minho in for more. His shoulders were shaking as if he wanted to laugh at how eager you were, but he continued with kissing you filthily instead. When you started to squirm again, he pulled away, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down instead.

“I think you need a little more,” He mused, nose still brushing against yours. His eyes were enrapturing, as if they held a thousand secrets behind them. You wanted to know more about him, and more about the cute Jisung who was just as anxious as you. Could you be greedy and have them both?

“I want more,” You agreed, nodding. Minho hummed, and then he was collecting spit in his mouth. He let it drop into yours, and you heard Jisung whine, before he was shimmying back towards you. He gently pushed Minho out of the way, and you kept Minho’s spit on your tongue as if you knew what Jisung wanted to do.

“Oh my God, ‘s so hot,” You heard Jisung mumble, before he was pressing his lips against yours again. You felt him lick the collected spit out of your mouth, before he was pushing his own onto your tongue. He sucked your tongue again, whining into the kiss. You could feel something moving on the bed, and eventually, you worked out it was Jisung pushing his hips into the mattress impatiently. When he pulled away, his lips went to your neck instantly, sucking a deep red mark into your collarbone.

“Sungie,” Minho mumbled. “You need to calm down. She’s drunk a lot tonight. Maybe another time, yeah?”

Jisung looked at Minho with stars in his eyes. You nodded, hands gripping Jisung’s biceps. His skin was delicate, honey-toned and muscly, showing the effects of the sport he played. He was fucking sexy. You wanted Minho to be shirtless too. “Another time,” You agreed. “I want you both another time. Can I…? Is that too much, I-”

“We want you too,” Jisung turned to you, his forehead pressed against yours. Now that he was closer again, you let your legs spread, welcoming him to press against you. He was hard, solid in his cute pyjama bottoms, and you wanted to whine. “We want to have you. But, tonight isn’t the best idea. You may regret it.”

“I’d never regret it-”

“Gorgeous girl,” Minho cooed at you, soft as he pressed a kiss into your hairline. They were both enveloping you, warm, soft bodies that were just as toned as they were delicate. Your heart rate was so fast you were convinced you could die. “Gorgeous fucking girl. We’ll take you another time, yeah? Not tonight. You can sleep tonight.”

All of a sudden, sleep sounded amazing. You let yourself hum in agreement, and Jisung moved off of you, curling around your side. “‘M actually quite sleepy, yeah.”

“Thought so,” Minho chuckled, sidling up to your other side. He let you wiggle closer, head on his chest, and Jisung followed you, his chest pressed up against your back. It was comfortable, cosy on the two beds pushed together. “Go to sleep, gorgeous. We’ll be here when you wake up, okay?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You woke up delirious. You could feel your head pulsating with the beginning of a hangover, and you were just so confused - where were you?

It only took one look at Jisung, lips parted and soft snores coming from his chest to remind you. Oh, yeah. You looked towards your other side, seeing Minho stretched out and full, heavy breaths reverberating around the room from his deep slumber. You’d made out with them both. You didn’t feel any regret, either. You’d done something that was so unusual for you, and it had worked out brilliantly. You’d had the best time.

You knew you’d be embarrassed when they woke up, though. You managed to detangle yourself from the two boys, wiggling out of the makeshift bed and finding your uniform quite easily. You’d tried to make as little noise as possible, but the sound of sheets rustling from the bed caught your attention.

“You’re leaving?” Minho. You turned around, blinking at him. He looked almost insecure, leaning up on his hands and tilting his head at you in question. “Do you… regret what happened?”

Shaking your head quickly, you moved back to the bed. You let one hand caress his cheek and he leaned into the touch, eyes soft and bleary from sleep. “I don’t regret it at all, Min. I had the best time. I just… I need to get home, and see Hyunnie and Lix, you know? But, um…” You felt awkward, anxious again. One look at Minho convinced you that you didn’t have to be. “I want to see you both again. Is that… a little weird? I just, I really enjoyed, and I-”

“Absolutely,” Minho agreed. He moved to sit closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. “Give me your phone.”

You blinked. Where was it? Digging through your uniform, you found it tucked into one of the inside pockets of the skirt, and you triumphantly handed it to him. You watched him make two contact names, and send both a quick ‘hi’ text so that they had your number, too. It was still shocking. You couldn’t quite believe it. Could you be greedy, and have both? Jisung was still asleep and snoring, and you found yourself smiling at him. He was bundled up in the blanket like a little burrito.

Minho handed your phone back, kissing your forehead. “Let me know when you get home safe.”

You practically ran out of the house, in all honesty. You were still dressed in Minho’s clothes, and once you’d slid your shoes back on, you started to walk back to your own home. You were pretty sure it wasn’t a long walk, and it wasn’t, all things considered - you were back home within five minutes, and you swung the door open.

Wait. It was unlocked? It was unlocked the whole night, while you’d been out acting like a fucking celebrity, and now someone had probably broken in, and-

You tiptoed into the living room, almost terrified, and then you saw Hyunjin and Felix. Both were eating cup noodles, staring at the TV where some random drama was on. Do hangovers just not exist for those two? Why hadn’t they even text, to see how you were? What the fuck was wrong with them?

“You’re home!” Felix said, cheerful as always. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring between the two. They have their own homes. Why were they there? They were showered, wet hair visible and with fresh clothes on. Your clothes, you noted. The t-shirt was a little too tight on Hyunjin’s shoulders.

“Why aren’t you at your own fucking houses, guys?” You scoffed, sprawling on the sofa. Your head landed on Hyunjin’s lap, and he spoonfed you a serving of noodles. You chewed it happily. You did love them, deep down.

“You’re confident after last night,” He mused. With his spare hand, he yanked down your - no, Minho’s t-shirt, and you were too slow to stop him from seeing it. Bright as day, the mark that Jisung had sucked into your skin was darkening as the time went on, a perfect giveaway of what you’d been up to the night before. “Oh my God. Felix, look!”

Felix leaned over, the three of you intertwined like a pretzel, and then his jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Who- which one was that?!”

You felt almost smug as you sat up, pulling the t-shirt back into place. “That was Jisung.”

Hyunjin gasped. Felix was grinning, wide and blinding. “That leads me to believe you may have had fun with both of them, right?” Hyunjin giggled, poking at your side. You scoffed, kicking him in the leg.

That brought back your anxiety, however. You’d had fun with both of them, made out with both of them, and they were both fucking gorgeous and so, so kind to you. They both seemed interested. They had to be, or why would they both kiss you? “Um… Yeah, I did, but… I want to see them both again. I can’t, though, like… it’s not logical.”

Felix tilted his head to the side. “Why not, sweetie?”

“Because there’s two of them? Like, what kind of a question is that-”

“What kind of a person are you if you’ve never heard of polyamory?” Hyunjin berated you through a mouthful of noodles. Your eyebrows raised in shock. He had a point. That had never even crossed your mind. “I mean, they have their own thing going on. They’re soulmates, everyone knows that.”

“But.. they’re not together. Sungie told me it was just a no-strings-attached type of thing-”

“Sungie?!” Felix squealed. “That’s so- so cute!”

Hyunjin glared at Felix, trying to get him to shut up so he could speak. “They’re soulmates, but they’re not together. It’s like best friend soulmates, except they make out and fuck sometimes. It makes sense for them both wanting to date the same girl is what I’m saying,” Hyunjin shrugged as if you’d thought of this before. You felt dumb. Why hadn’t you thought of that, actually? “The game’s tonight, too. You’ll see them again.”

“So… I should go for it?” You asked, feeling slightly insecure. You’d gone for it last night, and nothing ended badly. Could you do it again, though?

“Absolutely,” They both agreed, literally at the same time. You sighed, before nodding. You could do this. But you’d forgotten to text Minho, so that had to happen first.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[11:31am] Minho: Looking forward to seeing your ass in that skirt again tonight.

That text had been running circles in your head all day. Felix and Hyunjin had screamed when you showed them what he’d said. If anyone asked, you’d never admit that you’d put on some nice pink lace underwear underneath your skirt just in case. You felt a blush spread across your face as you reread his text.

A feeling of anticipation spread through you as you waited for the game to start. Cheerleaders were meant to take to the field first, and then the footballers would come on afterwards. It wasn’t a serious game, just one of the preliminary ones against another university team that could be considered as amateur. You could still feel your heart rate picking up as you all flooded onto the field, Felix dragging you along with his arm wrapped around yours comfortingly. The pom poms were literally almost slipping from your hands with how nervous you were, clammy and hot under the stadium lights.

As it wasn’t a serious game, the stands weren’t that full, which made you feel a little more relaxed. Jihyo had chosen this game for you to start for a reason, clearly. You were still yet to get used to having eyes on you, eagerly awaiting a cheer to sprout from your mouth. It was anything but ideal, and you would have rather been anywhere else at that moment.

Thankfully, your cheer routine to introduce the game went without a hitch and Hyunjin high fived you afterwards. When the subsequent clapping and cheers from the stalls died down, you nervously anticipated the footballers’ arrivals. They were like kings in your university, after all, and now you’d found yourself embroiled in something sexy and almost… heartfelt with two of them. You felt a little bit silly. You were definitely reading too much into things too quick.

Then, the captain arrived. Chan was someone you were vaguely familiar with, since he was extremely close with Hyunjin and you’d actually seen him the night before. He didn’t spare any of you a second glance as he bounced onto the field, the cheers starting back up again, but you hadn’t expected anything different. In all honesty, you’d expected Jisung and Minho to ignore you all, too, because it was game time. They needed to have their game faces on, quite literally. Waving at the cheerleaders would distract from that.

You could literally hear Felix and Hyunjin both snickering at you as your two love interests bounded onto the field. You elbowed them both sharply, making Hyunjin groan and attempt to fight back before Felix was yanking him back by his hair.

Surprisingly, Jisung halted on his journey across the field. He was almost directly in front of you. You stared at him with a confused expression while he used his hand to cover the massive lights dotted around the university stadium, spinning around in a circle until he saw you. Your expression quickly morphed into shock as he dropped his helmet on the floor, grabbing Minho by the arm and bounded over to you.

“You left before I woke up,” He pouted, out of breath from running. Minho was just snickering beside him, arms crossed over his chest with his red helmet still in hand. You gaped, jaw dropped.

“I- Jisung, you have a game to play,” You hissed, pom poms now dangerously close to slipping from your sweaty hands. Jisung simply laughed, inching closer to you.

“Don’t care. Can I come over after the game? Minho’s busy with an assignment, he’s such a smarty pants,” Jisung reeled off statements, each one as quick as the last one. Minho just watched him, staring at you both with an amused look. You just stood there, staring at Jisung. Felix and Hyunjin were giggling. You could hear them. Pricks. Everyone on the stalls had started to murmur amongst themselves, wondering why two of the star players were talking to some random cheerleader. “Oh my God, I know I’m being weird but stop staring at me. I promise I’ll shower before I come over.”

“Jisung! Yes, you can come over but people are starting to stare, please go to your team-”

“Alright! See you later,” In the most shocking turn of events to date, in all of history actually, was that Jisung pressed a sweet peck to your lips and skipped back to his team. That was bad enough. What made matters even worse was Minho kissing you, too, just as chaste as Jisung’s kiss. He ruffled your hair and followed Jisung off to the other end of the field.

“Well, that answers our question,” Felix said, resting his head on your shoulder. “You’re all dating.”

Hyunjin swatted Felix, still staring in the direction of Minho and Jisung. “Don’t say that. They need to actually ask her first. She’s not settling for less than that, you know?”

Unsurprisingly, the boys won. Minho and Jisung were grinning at you when the score was official, 22-16 to your university. You watched wordlessly as they bounced towards the locker room, everyone cheering and slapping each other on the backs. You knew what would happen now. Jisung would shower, and then he’d wait for you outside for you to get changed, too.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“I got loads of sweets from the vending machine,” Jisung babbled once you reached your front door. You had wondered what the plastic carrier bag in his hand was, slapping off of his jogger-clad leg while you walked home. “I wanted to show you this super cool documentary I found. It’s about this really small cat, but it’s really brave. Minho liked it.”

He was so fucking endearing. He was still going on about the documentary as you just smiled and nodded, leading him to your room. Your room was slightly embarrassing, something you noted as he stepped inside of it. It was very pink, very girly and the double bed had multiple cute pillows scattered all over it. He picked up a heart shaped one anyway, sprawling on the bed with it clutched tightly to his chest.

“So,” you began, throwing yourself onto his bed next to him. You were glad you’d taken comfortable clothes to change in after the game - you still had the nice underwear on, y’know, just in case. “Tell me more about this little cat.”

“Oh my God,” Jisung gushed, thrashing around as if he couldn’t handle how cute the cat was. You giggled, grabbing his arm to stabilise him. “It’s this little cat. He's so tiny, but he’s really brave. He’s all spotty too, like a little leopard. He’s so cute but he’s really daring. It- it kind of-” Jisung trailed off, staring at the wall.

He was getting shy. You rubbed your hand over his arm, smiling softly. “Kind of what, Sungie?”

“Kind of reminded me of you,” Jisung mumbled. His hands clenched around the pillow. “Like, it was really cute, but so brave. I showed it to Minho this morning, and - he agreed. It’s like you. You’re so brave, and cute, and you’re quite small, too. Smaller than us, I mean. You were really brave last night. I could tell you’re kinda shy, but you still spoke to us, and opened up to us. It was nice to see. I’m- I’m interested in you. I like you, I guess, we both do. I know it’s early, but-”

You cut him off with a kiss to his lips. When you pulled back, he was wide-eyed, fingers tight on the pillow. You smiled, nuzzling your nose against his. “I am shy. But I don’t feel that shy around you and Min, because… I guess I like you too. I enjoyed last night way too much to be healthy. It is early, but I’ve decided I don’t care.”

“Yay,” Jisung mumbled, and then he was kissing you again. He threw the pillow to the side, hands enveloping in your hair and pulling you closer. Kissing Jisung was like heaven. It just felt right, and it felt like a reward both times you’d done it. You wanted to do it a lot more. When your thigh shifted to get closer to him, to feel him more, you felt a solid obtrusion in your way. You blinked, forehead against his so you could stare down at his pants.

“You’re hard..?” You questioned, staring at the sizable tent in Jisung’s trousers. He blushed crimson at your statement, and yanked on his trousers to try and cover it.

“Yeah, I’m hard because you’re fucking hot,” He mumbled, looking up at you with dark, round eyes. You tilted your head, confused.

“I’m… hot?”

“You’re even hotter because you don’t know it!” He huffed, finally giving up on hiding it. He sprawled back against your bedsheets, hair fanned around his head. Now that he’d stopped moving, you could really look at it. It was clearly hard, length pressed tightly against his joggers and a spot of precum leaking through onto the grey fabric. “I came over just to talk to you, just to chill and tell you about that cute cat, and now… my dick is fucking hard.” He sounded distraught, and you giggled. Time to bite the bullet, yet again.

“Want me to help?” You asked, shifting so that you were on top of his lap. He jolted, hands coming to grab your hips with wide eyes. He moved so that he was leaning up against your pillows, and his t-shirt rose a little with the movement, exposing that delicious honey toned skin. Your eyes were fixated on it immediately. “I want… I want to fuck you, so bad. I can ride you. If you want.”

Jisung huffed again, blowing hair out of his face with the puff of air. “We can’t. Minho will want to be here the first time all three of us fuck properly.”

“Oh?” That was cute, actually. It was nice knowing that he did like you as much as you liked him, this quick, after just one night of chatting and making out. You were all down bad, all three of you. “I can jerk you off though, right?” You were talking a lot of smack for someone who’d never actually jerked off a guy before.

“Oh God, yes, please,” He whimpered, and you rolled your hips down on top of him teasingly. It made him gasp, before he was pushing you off, yanking his joggers down impatiently. You almost choked on air in shock - no wonder you could see everything, the fucker had gone commando after his post-game shower. He gripped his cock, a tight ring around the base as if to show you just how hard it was. When you looked at him, now positioned on his thighs, his eyes were watery and pleading.

“I… I’ve never done this before, so you’ll have to guide me. Tell me what you like, ‘kay?” You ordered, and Jisung nodded, releasing his cock so you could grab it yourself. The head peeked out from beneath his foreskin, wet with precum and dripping onto the smattering of pitch black hair at his base. It was thick, not overly long but a perfect length, actually. It had you dripping into your nice panties, and you internally grimaced. They’d be ruined after this. You wanted him to see the effect he had on you, and you gripped his shaft tightly, pumping experimentally.

“Oh,” Jisung whined, “tighter around the head. And- and, please, spit on it, make it wet, I-” You obliged, spitting on the head and wrapping your fingers around it just a bit tighter. It was noisy after that, making a slick noise every time you got to the head and pulled a bit more. His hips were kicking up, fucking up into your fist as he let out unabashed whines.

“You sound so pretty,” You admitted, kissing his cheek. He managed to catch you in a kiss, whimpering as your tongue swiped over his. His eyes were even glassier when you pulled back, clear tears adorning the dark chocolate colour. “I want to fuck you so bad, Jisung.”

“Yeah? You do?” Jisung asked, his hands reaching out to grab your wrist firmly. You barely managed to continue pumping past his tight grip, grinning when you saw the head of his cock get wetter. You gasped as you felt his grip on your wrist tighten even more, the pleasure-pain radiating through your body. You felt an electric shock when you felt his breath on your neck, his soft lips leaving a trail of kisses as you continued to pump his erection. You watched his thighs clench, partially obscured by the fabric caught beneath you, and his eyes shut as he let out an incoherent moan. “I’m- gettin’ there. Gonna cum soon, gonna-”

It was sloppy and messy, but you didn’t care. You felt yourself getting wetter the more you pumped, and Jisung moaned in response. His thighs clenched and unclenched as he got closer and closer to orgasm, and you knew he was about to cum. All of a sudden, you had a wanting inside of you to taste his cock, and you shifted down his legs to engulf the head in your mouth. It had a slight salty taste, not unpleasant but unfamiliar. The look on Jisung’s face was worth it. His eyes were wide, jaw dropped as you swirled the tongue over his head.

“Oh, yeah, look at me,” You obliged, looking up with doe eyes as you sucked harshly on his cockhead. You used your hand to continue pumping, and as if it was unexpected, he gasped and let out a loud whine. “So beautiful, what the fuck? I can’t handle it- oh. Oh, I’m cumming-”

The taste flooded your mouth, hot cum hitting your tastebuds. Again, it wasn’t unpleasant, just unfamiliar. You had many plans to get used to the taste. Jisung’s hand clutched your head as he writhed throughout his orgasm, deep sighs and pants coming from his lips. You ran your tongue around him one more time, before pulling off and smiling at him.

“Jeez, that was- what? You swallowed?” You nodded. Were you not meant to? You thought you were. Jisung whined, covering his face with his hands. “That’s so sexy. You’re so sexy. Can I eat you out, please?”

“Is that… will Minho be okay with that?” You replied, but you still let Jisung push you back into your sheets. Jisung nodded, yanking down your trousers. You’d almost forgotten about the underwear. The second delicate, pink lace met Jisung’s eye, his jaw dropped, and he was gasping as if he’d only just finished his match.

“Is it… does it match?” Jisung asked, and you nodded. You hesitantly grabbed your shirt, yanking it up to show the pink balcony bra that matched your thong. Jisung looked like he’d seen God, eyes wide and almost comical with the way his soft cock was pressed against the sheets. He was looking at you like you hung the fucking moon. “I gotta FaceTime Minho. Can I? He’s gonna fucking die if I show him this.”

“Woah-” You jolted as Jisung reached over, grabbing his phone from the joggers at the end of the bed. You got a nice view of his ass as he bent over, peachy and with a cute little hole begging to be teased. Okay. You’d need to address that mentally later. “You can call him, but isn’t he working?”

“Yeah, but he’ll wanna see this,” Jisung mumbled. You watched him flick through contacts until he was phoning the other counterpart to your love triad, and it only took two rings for Minho to answer. “Minho. Look.”

You wanted to hide, exposed with your top pulled up above your tits and your core clenching around nothing. Jisung hadn’t even given Minho a chance to speak, but you could hear Minho’s sharp inhale of breath through the phone.

“You better not have fucked her, Sungie.”

“No, he- we didn’t have sex, Min, promise,” You said, urgently trying to make sure the other man wasn’t angry at you. Jisung flipped the camera around again, nodding solemnly at him. “He- he wants to, um…”

“I wanna eat her out, and I’m going to. You wanna see, hyung?” Jisung was cocky when he said it, waiting for Minho’s reply with a raised eyebrow. You were baffled - you could’ve sworn you’d never heard Jisung address Minho like that. Perhaps it was only a bedroom thing? Minho obviously gave his affirmation to seeing you, because Jisung handed you the phone. You were kind of hazy from the whole conversation, and you looked confusedly at the camera when it showed you and not Jisung settling between your legs.

“Hey, gorgeous. You look tasty,” You giggled at Minho’s words. He had glasses perched on his nose and his hair was pushed back, a casual grey hoodie over his shoulders. He was so fucking cute. “Wanna turn the camera so I can see Sungie eating that pussy?”

“Mm, yeah, okay,” Jisung was nosing over your underwear when you flipped the camera around, and you obediently kept it at an angle where Minho could see your tummy and your lace-covered core. He groaned when his eyes focused on the expanse of your skin, soft under the lighting of your bedroom.

“Sungie’s really good with his tongue, gorgeous,” Minho said, and you hummed. You’d never been eaten out before and you were on edge, thighs shaking. On Jisung’s phone, you could see where the camera had started to shake from your nerves and Minho’s hand had crept into his trousers.

“Min, I wanna see you,” You groaned, head falling back against your pillows. Jisung snickered between your legs, and then he was hooking his thumbs into your underwear, pulling them down. Minho shook his head, groaning at the sight of your swollen clit pressing against Jisung’s lips.

“You can see me another time, I need to see that pussy. Is she wet, Sungie?”

Jisung ran his tongue through your folds and you jolted, legs automatically spreading wider. The sensation was so intimate, so personal and so fucking hot. “She’s fuckin’ soaked, hyung. Tastes amazing,” Jisung murmured. Then, like a man starved, he was diving into your folds. His tongue drew zigzags along your slit, licking up the accumulated slick and letting it lube your clit when he got to it. Pouty lips wrapped around the little button and sucked hard, and you whined, hips bucking into his mouth.

“He’s good, isn’t he?” Minho asked, and you hummed, eyes fixated on the mop of dark hair between your legs. Jisung looked up at you, eyes round and blown with lust, and you felt yourself gush onto his tongue. Minho groaned, clearly feeling the effects of seeing Jisung’s eyes so dark. “Tell me how it feels, jagi. I want to know what he’s doing.”

Jagi? Oh God, you could die. “It’s- he’s licking my, um, hole, and then he’s licking my clit, and it’s- ah, ‘s so good, so good, never had this before, I-“

“No one’s ever eaten that sloppy cunt before?” Minho questioned, and you moaned, letting out a small confirmation. Jisung was ravenous, head bobbing as he let you ride his tongue with the bucks of your hips. “That’s a shame, jagi. You’ve got us now, yeah? Jisung loves eating pussy.”

“I do,” Jisung added, pulling away. Then, two fingers breached your entrance and Jisung was curling them up, rubbing right against your g-spot. You hadn’t even managed to reach this spot when you were alone, let alone with the one guy you’d slept with, and you let out a squeal, almost dropping the phone. Jisung hissed, kitten licking over your clit. “This pussy’s tight, hyung.”

“Yeah?” Minho’s voice was strained all of a sudden, and you watched as he threw his head back against his computer chair. “I can’t wait to fuck you, jagi. I can’t wait to fuck you, and I’m gonna- gonna fuck you raw, and-“

“Oh my God, I’m gonna cum if you keep talking,” You whined, thrashing around on Jisung’s fingers. He didn’t pump his fingers, only rubbing his fingertips against your g-spot and sucking over your clit. It was like he knew your body, playing it like it was an instrument until it made the most beautiful noise.

Minho groaned, and Jisung had the biggest grin on his face as he watched you get closer to your climax. “Yeah? You like the idea of me fucking you raw? Maybe- maybe I’ll fucking breed that cunt, yeah?”

“Oh, fucking- shit, shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna- hnng, Ji, Sungie, please don’t stop, I’m gonna-“

“You’re kinda dirty, y’know, about to cum to the idea of hyung breeding you,” Jisung mumbled, but the look on his face signified he knew what he was doing. You clenched on his fingers and let out a stuttered breath, just balancing precariously on the edge of your orgasm. “Maybe I’ll fuck you raw too. Then you can have both of our loads dripping out of this cunt, yeah?”

That did it for you. The idea of them both taking you raw, fucking you until their cum spurts inside of you, both loads of cum - you wailed, sent headfirst into your orgasm. You had stars dancing all over your clenched shut eyes, the arousal leaking over Jisung’s fingers in the most powerful orgasm you’d ever had, including when you’d make yourself cum. Oh, well. You’d just have to come back for more.

When you opened your eyes, Jisung slid his fingers out of you with a wet noise, popping them into his mouth and sucking them clean. Heavy breathing directed your attention to Minho who still sat on the call, but now with his chest heaving and cum splattered on his hoodie. He grimaced, looking down at the fabric.

“Oh, no,” Jisung whined, staring up at you. You raised an eyebrow in question. “I didn’t even get to take your bra off!”

You giggled, kicking him playfully. “Are you a boob guy, Sungie?”

“Yes! Minho likes ass, I like tits. That’s why you need us both.”

You rolled your eyes. “I guess I can’t argue with that reasoning.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Your life was turning out to be a fairytale.

You hadn’t seen the boys for a week at that point, the night of yet another party. You insisted you weren’t going, but of course Hyunjin was Hyunjin and had roped you into the tightest skirt you owned and made you come. It was only made relatively comfortable by the fact you, Minho and Jisung had been texting in your recently made groupchat, and they’d be attending the party too. You could hopefully sneak away from the party with them, since you knew it wasn’t Jisung’s preferred scene either.

You pulled at the hem of the skirt, reminding you of the way you had behaved the night you first met your love interests. Hyunjin swatted your hands away this time, and Felix threw a pair of fishnet tights at your head.

“Put these on,” He commanded you. “Minho will go insane.”

He did, when you’d arrived. Felix and Hyunjin had made a beeline for the kitchen when you got to the massive house - which you now knew was Minho and Jisung’s, along with the rest of the football team. You’d wanted to psych yourself up a bit, get yourself ready to see the boys, but you’d come face to face with them as soon as you’d entered the room.

“Oh,” Jisung blurted, eyes trained directly on your thighs. Minho was engrossed in conversation with Chan, but when Jisung grabbed him by the arm to turn him towards you, his jaw dropped. His eyes scanned down your body, completely bypassing the skirt and fixating on your semi-exposed legs.

It had you staring at him, too. You had Jisung in a sexual context, but you were yet to see what was hidden between Minho’s legs. They were both dressed in tight leather trousers, Jisung pairing his with a sleeveless black blazer and nothing underneath. Minho, however, was in a sleeveless khaki tank top, and you thought your heart had stopped. You needed to take it off. He looked built underneath, now that you weren’t seeing him in his baggy football jersey or a comfy t-shirt.

“Oh,” You returned Jisung’s statement. Minho had tits, built pecs that deserved your teeth sinking into them. You couldn’t believe you were being such a pervert, but when you finally looked up at Minho’s face, he was smirking.

Jisung giggled. “Okay! I think we need to get you two upstairs. Lovely to see you, Hyunjin, Felix,” You watched Jisung nod at the two in greeting. The two bastards you called best friends were grinning, elbowing each other in glee as Jisung linked arms with you and Minho. You let yourself be dragged upstairs, and it took everything in you not to fall over drooling at the sight of Minho’s thighs in those tight trousers. When you arrived at their shared room, Jisung shut the door behind you, before staring at you and Minho with an incriminating look. “Are you two in fucking heat or something? Like, damn- oh. Okay.”

He was cut off by Minho throwing you against the wall, one hand yanking your hair back to force his tongue into your mouth. You whined, letting him dominate your lips with his own, and your hands came up to grip his biceps.

When he pulled away, you chased his lips only for him to reach up with one hand and wrap it around your throat, pinning you back to the wall. “Please tell me you’re going to fuck me,” You huffed, eyes flickering to Jisung. “Both of you. I haven’t drank anything, you stole me before I could.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re a brat,” Minho retorted, his nose nuzzling against yours as if he was about to kiss you again. He didn’t, only a teasing brush of his lips. “I’ve already got one bonafide brat to deal with.”

Jisung gasped. “Hey!”

Minho shrugged. “It’s true,” His eyes turned back to you, blown with lust. You could see his erection pressed against his pants, and you fixated on it, licking your lips. He chuckled. “Alright, gorgeous. I’ll be nice to you today. Get on the bed.”

You blinked, moving over to the makeshift bed. They’d pushed them together again, and you weren’t sure if they’d just left them like that after last time or if they’d done it tonight. Either way, you were pleased at the idea of you all curling up and sleeping together again.

“Sungie, c’mere,” Minho mumbled, and then in a scene that could have only come from your wet dreams, he was kissing Jisung. His hand was on the back of his head, and the other rested on his waist, pulling him close to kiss him deep and hard. It was filthy, and you squirmed against the sheets, pouting. You wanted to kiss Jisung too.

“Me next,” You blurted. Jisung pulled away, giggling, and then he was climbing onto the bed to loom over you.

“Greedy. I told you I like it when you’re bold, ‘s so sexy,” His lips met yours with a wet noise, tongue automatically pushing into your mouth. The way Jisung kissed always enraptured you - dirty, filthy and open mouthed always, whereas Minho was more precise. You liked the way they balanced eachother out.

“Sungie, you can fuck her first. I want to find out what she likes,” Minho commanded, joining the two of you on the bed. He managed to position you so your back was to his chest, and Jisung was in between your legs, crotch pressing against yours in those fucking leather pants. “I’m guessing you like me talking to you, gorgeous.”

“Yeah, ‘s hot,” You replied, shifting so your hips grinded up against Jisung’s bulge. Jisung sighed, moving to join you in the teasing push and pull. His shaft brushed up against your clit, and you could feel everything from his base to his cockhead. Even just dry humping him felt fucking delicious.

“She likes the idea of being filled up with cum,” Jisung contributed, his lips moving to suck marks into your skin again. He seemed to love doing that.

“My question is, do you like it rough? Would you want me to slap you around a bit, hurt you?” Minho said. His lips were brushing against your earlobe and you whined, bucking up into Jisung sharply.

“I dunno- I dunno, I’ve never tried it,” You admitted, and Minho hummed. Then, with a swift move, his hand was coming down to smack sharply onto your thigh through your fishnets. You gasped, and a gush of wetness flooded your panties. “Oh.”

“She liked that, I fucking felt it,” Jisung mumbled, hair floppy over his eyes. His lips were wet, and you grabbed his head and traced the pouty flesh with your tongue. His hands went up to your top, pushing it up and exposing your bra to both of the boys. Minho was helpful in unclasping it and dropping it from your shoulders. You felt like a doll, lying there surrounded by them both while they touched you all over. It was worth it for the look on Jisung’s face when he saw your tits, and then he was sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You were so on edge it didn’t take long for you to babble. “Oh, fucking God- Ji, Sungie, harder, suck harder, bite them-“

“Bite them?” Minho scoffed. “You do like pain, huh?”

Jisung’s teeth nipped at your bud teasingly, and you squealed, chest arching to meet his mouth. He pulled away, grabbing both tits in his hand and burying his face in between them. “These are magnificent.”

“I’m really happy for you that you like them, Sungie, but I think she might die if she doesn’t get anything inside that cunt soon,” Minho sighed, and you wanted to kiss him in gratitude. You really were about to die.

Jisung nodded obediently, and then he was giving Minho another chaste kiss before inching your skirt up your legs. He struggled with the tight material of it, before he finally got it situated at your waist, and then he couldn’t get the fishnets down. He was struggling, you could see that, and Minho reached over with a sigh and positively ripped the fishnets open.

“Jesus, Minho! They were Felix’s!” Minho shrugged, and then he took the extra, most annoying step and ripped the lace of your panties open, too. Jisung sat there slack jawed, palming his erection over his tight trousers when your pussy was revealed to him, glistening wet in the light.

“You’re soaking, my baby,” Jisung murmured, eyes fixated on your folds. You wiggled eagerly, making Minho pin your hips down. “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes! Wan’ it, wanted it since I saw it,” You whimpered, and Jisung grinned. You watched as he yanked his blazer off, revealing that tiny waist, and then you moaned when he pulled his trousers down and his cock sprang out. It was leaking for you once again, hard as a rock and he pumped it twice, moaning. “Stop teasing, Jisung.”

Minho leaned over, running two fingers through your slit before humming. “Jisung, fuck her. She doesn’t need any prep.”

“You sure, hyung?” Jisung looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

The way they were talking about you like you weren’t even there had more arousal burning in your gut. Minho just grinned, pinching your thigh again just to hear you squeak. “I’m pretty sure the pain will only make it better for her.”

Jisung nodded, and then he was positioning his cockhead at your entrance. You were wet, embarrassingly so, and he teasingly rubbed his cock against your slit a few times. “You still want it raw?”

“Please, oh my God,” You simpered, whining as his tip breached your hole. It was a stretch, but you loved the feeling of it, the large vein on his cock providing the best friction you’d ever felt. The hair on his pubic mound grazed your clit once you’d bottomed out and you gripped Minho’s forearms from where he sat behind you.

Jisung immediately started thrusting feverishly, his hair hanging over his eyes as he felt your drippy hole clench around him. You could feel yourself gushing, covering his pubic hair and his shaft with an embarrassing amount of wetness. You whined when Minho pinched your nipples, his chuckle shaking his chest where it pressed against you.

“Look at my greedy kitties, huh?” Minho cooed. Jisung whined in response, leaning down to suck more marks into your neck. You arched your back, trying to get more friction on your tits. “Fucking each other so desperately like that. It’s so fucking cute. Should I play with these?” He brushed his fingers over your nipples again, and you nodded eagerly, jolting when his fingers pinched the buds meanly.

“Hyung, ‘s so wet, oh my fucking God,” Jisung’s voice was high pitched, his eyes rolling back into his head. “You’re gonna fucking die when you get inside, I can’t- can’t handle it, I-“

“I think you’ve driven him pussy drunk, kitty,” Minho mumbled in your ear, making you giggle. “Is it good for you?”

“Hnng, yeah, he feels so thick,” You were sure you had a permanent, blissed smile on your face while you let yourself get fucked up into Minho. Minho grinned back at you, kissing your hairline. Jisung was drooling into your neck now, thrusts uneven but still feeling so, so good inside of you. “Mm, I want it deeper, please, Ji.”

“D-Deeper? Yeah, yeah, I’ve got you baby,” He nodded, pushing your legs up against your chest. “Hyung, hold ‘em. Please.” The ‘please’ seemed like it was added as an afterthought, but Minho chuckled and held your legs up anyway. You felt a bit disappointed his hands weren’t on your tits anymore, but when Jisung began to thrust again, it hit your g-spot incessantly with his quick pace. You whined, throwing your head back against Minho. The jolt of ecstasy that you’d felt when Minho slapped you was something you were absolutely desperate to feel again, however.

“I- I wanna be slapped again, please, Min-“

“My hands are busy, filthy girl,” Minho hummed. “Jisung. Slap her across the face.”

“The- the face?! Hyung, oh my God-“ Jisung looked wide eyed between you and Minho, but you didn’t miss the way his hands tightened on the bed sheets next to you.

“Slap me, Sungie, please. C’mon, I know you’ve got it in you, I know you want to-“ You were cut off with Jisung’s hand raising and slapping you clean across the cheek, and then you were cumming. You gushed around Jisung’s cock, wondering why it felt so, so wet all of a sudden, and Jisung let out a deep moan.

“You are a fucking menace. Greedy, filthy, oh my God, squirted all over my cock, like what the fuck?” Jisung whined, and you lifted your head up, looking down. You had, actually, and you’d had no idea. “I’m going to cum. ‘S too wet now, hyung, I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum then,” Minho sighed. “But you better be eating that cum straight out of her pussy and letting her taste.”

You whined, nodding, and then Jisung was cumming. His hips stalled as he came, one long, drawn out moan falling from his pouty lips. You felt the warmth fill you up, and you looked up at Jisung with doe eyes. He pulled out, his cock softening, and you expected Minho to let go of your legs - he held you further up, instead, baring your gushing hole to Jisung’s mouth when he shifted down to stare at it.

Then, his tongue was licking through your hole with intensity, scooping up his own cum and holding it in his mouth. He leaned over you, and you let your tongue loll out of your mouth to accept the mixed flavours of you and him. It was so fucking dirty, but you could feel your pussy getting wet all over again. Just when you thought you were meant to swallow, Minho was pulling you back by your jaw and kissing you filthily, swallowing the taste of yours and Jisung’s cum. You moaned, shifting to move onto Minho’s lap and straddle those beautiful fucking thighs.

“Need you, now,” You murmured against his lips, licking along the seam of them. Minho smirked, before he was pulling your head back by your hair.

“I think I decide what you fucking need, don’t I?” He replied, eyes dark and staring into yours. Jisung snickered from next to you, sprawled leisurely and with a now-hard cock again. What the fuck? Did his refractory period not exist, or?

“You’re in for it,” Jisung chirped, and you blinked hazily.

“Are you going to be mean to me, Min? Haven’t even seen your cock yet,” You pouted, and Minho laughed, shoulders shaking. That answered your question.

“Why don’t you take it out then? Have a look at it, kitty,” He laid back, and you nodded. You felt a little silly, fishnets ripped all over, tits out and your skirt in a strip of fabric around your waist, but you didn’t care. Minho was looking at you like you were the best meal he’d ever seen. You shifted backwards, undoing his trousers and trying to yank them down his thick thighs.

Woah. That was the first thing you thought, looking down at the massive bulge in plain black boxers with a small amount of precum leaking through. Fucking big. Thick. You wanted to make grabby hands and throw a tantrum, but you held onto the last bit of dignity you had and pulled his length out of his underwear. Fuck. His shaft was flushed, long and thick, with a perfectly shaped mushroom head leaking small pearlescent drops all the way down onto the shaft. The dark, coarse hair was perfectly trimmed above his length as if he'd planned this. How could his cock be pretty too? No wonder he walked with such an air of confidence.

“I’m g’na sit on it,” You blurted, staring at his length. Jisung chuckled, and when you turned to him, he was pumping his cock again. Seriously, what the fuck?

“You’re going to do what I fucking tell you to do, kitty. Face down, ass up. Put your head by Jisung, c’mon,” Minho commanded you. When you moved to get up, you watched him rip the rest of his trousers off and pull his vest top off, exposing the expanse of his body. He was ethereal - dusky pink nipples on built pecs, and his arms were so fucking big when paired with the rest of his slight frame.

You flipped over nonetheless, trying to calm the panting breaths flooding from your lungs. Jisung spread his legs and let you rest your head on his thigh, only a few inches from his cock. Oh. That’s why Minho wanted you like this. Jisung grinned down at you, and when you tried to get his cock in your mouth, you were alarmed by the sensation of Minho’s cock pressed against your hole.

“Ready for me, kitty? Are you ready for me to breed this slutty fucking hole? I am going to be a little mean to you, you know,” Minho said, his tone low. You nodded, nuzzling against Jisung’s thigh affectionately. He returned it with a soft scratch to your scalp, one hand still pumping his cock. You watched the muscles of his tummy clench as he did so, humming in appreciation. They were both so sexy.

“Give it to me, Min, I can take it,” You murmured, and then he was bottoming out. He was longer than Jisung, hitting your g-spot with minimum effort from the position you were in, and you whined out, legs thrashing.

“I thought you could take it,” Minho scoffed. “You’re talking big for someone with such a tiny little fucking hole, huh?”

“I can take it-“

“Occupy your mouth with something else instead,” He interrupted you, and then he pointed at Jisung. “I don’t want to hear you whining, either. Legs up.”

Jisung’s eyes went wide. “Hyung-?”

“Do you want to make your Sungie feel good, kitty? It’s not fair he has to jerk off while watching his two loves fuck, right?” Minho cooed. His hips were slapping against your ass, making you gush and moan around him. You hated the way he sounded so unaffected while you were struggling to put sentences together. “There is something he really likes.”

“Yeah, y-yeah, I wanna make him feel good-“

Minho rewarded you with a slap to your ass, before yanking your head up by your hair. “Jisung. Legs up.”

Jisung obliged, pulling his legs up and apart. From this angle, you could see his hole, fluttering around nothing. It was as if he realised what Minho was planning the same second you did. “Oh, a-are you gonna lick me there, baby?”

“Mm, I want to,” You moaned, trying to escape Minho’s firm grip on your hair. “Min, can I?”

“Good kitty for asking,” He dropped your hair, moving his hand underneath you to rub your clit in precise circles. It heightened the pleasure tenfold, and you gasped, pushing your hips back against him. “That’s it. Fuck your hips back on my cock and lick his hole, fucking slut. Our slut, yeah?”

“Your slut, both of you,” You confirmed, nodding, before your head was delving between Jisung’s legs. He squealed as soon as you licked over his hole, something you’d wanted to do since you saw him grab his phone in your room. You let your ass bounce on Minho’s cock, his hand slapping your flesh every now and again and the other massaging your clit.

You realised very soon that you were going to cum for the second time, and you broke away from Jisung’s ass to look at Minho with pleading eyes. “Please, please, Min, m’close, need it…”

“What do you need, kitty? Do you need more?” Minho asked. You nodded, laving your tongue over Jisung’s balls and making him whine. You felt his hand move from your asscheek to trace his thumb around your second hole, making you jolt, until you were closing your eyes in anticipation. Minho chuckled. “Oh. You want this?”

“I- I’ve never…”

“It’s fuckin’ amazing. Hyung, finger her ass. She’ll love it,” Jisung contributed, and when you looked at him, his hand was pumping his cock again. You let your head delve down to lick over his asshole once more, with renewed fervour this time, and you giggled when Jisung moaned loudly. You were glad the party was still going on, music drowning out any noises that could fizzle from the room.

Minho slid his thumb into your ass, and you felt your legs tremble. Being filled like this was insane, his cock still bullying into your pussy and you couldn’t help but imagine it being the both of them - Jisung in your pussy, Minho in your ass, or vice versa.

“God, we’ll have to both fuck your holes at some point,” Minho grunted. The noises from your pussy were erotic, slapping wet noises and keens coming from your mouth, too. “That ass looks so fucking tight. Would you like that?”

You nodded, whining. “I want you both to cum in both holes, fill me up- oh, oh my God, I’m gonna cum, Min!”

“Ah, really? You want one of us in each hole? That’s fucking dirty, kitty,” Minho’s hand slapped your clit, one, two, three times, making you gasp and lean upwards to suck on Jisung’s cock. It made him jolt, and he pushed it into your mouth, groaning with a tight grip on your hair. “C’mon, then. I think you deserve to cum. You’ve been such a good girl, taking my cock like this, huh?”

You let yourself pop off of Jisung’s length, drooling on the tip. “T-Thank you! Thank you, Min, I’m gonna cum so hard, for you, for you both-” The orgasm exploded in a more full-body sensation than your last one, but you could feel your wetness leaking all down Minho’s shaft. It still pistoned in and out of you, lengthening your orgasm and making you squeal in delight. It felt like you’d been coming for about ten minutes straight, until Minho was leaning over you, pressing his chest to your back. Jisung was pushing your hair out of your face and still pumping his cock steadily, staring into your eyes.

“I’m gonna breed this fucking hole. Such a slut, letting me go raw,” Minho mumbled, almost to himself, hips making you shift up the bed. You took Jisung’s cockhead into your mouth again, sucking hard, and then he was jolting. “Cum in her mouth, Sungie. I’m going to fill up this fucking pussy, so perfect for me, molded to my fucking cock…”

You moaned when you realised you’d be taking two loads that night - probably even more from them both when the party was over - and then Minho was bottoming out, filling you up. It dripped out around his cock with the sheer amount of it, and when you caught sight of him over your shoulder, his ears were flushed a crimson red and his lips were parted, letting out a deep sigh. He looked gorgeous.

Unshockingly, Minho wasn’t at all talkative after he came, and he collapsed on you with an ‘oomph’, cock still inside you. He watched you jerk Jisung’s cock, and chuckled when Jisung whined and his toes curled.

“Need’a cum again,” Jisung moaned, his chest dewy with sweat. “Fuckin’ need it, hyung, baby, shit, please help me, I need more-“

In another brief moment of confidence, you kept pumping Jisung’s cock and sucked one finger into your mouth, slipping it into his hole beneath heavy balls. It only took one, two thrusts of your finger before he was gasping, and cum spurted out like a fountain over your fist. After you kept pumping steadily, he pushed your hands away with a whine from the overstimulation.

“That was…” Jisung spoke, chest heaving. “Jesus. So good.”

“I loved it,” You cooed, running your hand through Minho’s hair where his head leaned on your shoulder. “Minho, your mouth is fucking dirty, you know that?”

“I wish I could talk like that in bed. I get too shy, I just blabber,” Jisung admitted, and when you looked at Minho, his cheeks were burning the same shade as his ears. His eyes were flickering between you, and then he bit your shoulder softly, playfully.

“You’ll both learn!” He chirped, pulling out of you and walking over to get some towels from the shared wardrobe.

“C’mere. Cuddle time,” Jisung chirped, and you giggled, sidling up to his side with your head on his chest. He still had cum on the bottom of his tummy, and you still had cum dripping out of your pussy onto the bed, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even care you were still in most of your clothes. Minho did, however, and he groaned in exasperation with a white towel in hand when he turned around and saw you two.

Minho crept onto the bed, wiping your folds and then Jisung’s tummy. You both giggled when he kissed both your foreheads before tossing the towel onto the floor, cuddling in behind you. You were in the middle again - just the way you liked it. Minho ripped your fishnets the rest of the way off and somehow managed to get the skirt detangled, leaving you in just your top, now rolled down. You shifted onto your back, letting them both cuddle into your chest.

“I get too shy too. I just beg, apparently,” You murmured. “I wish I was better at talking. Inside the bedroom and outside.”

“Do you ever wish… that someone could fix you? Like, fix what’s wrong with you?” Jisung asked, eyes staring at the ceiling. “I always wished someone could fix the way I am. How awkward and shy I can get, and stuff.”

“I don’t want someone who’s going to fix me,” You said, head falling onto Minho’s shoulder. Jisung stared at you attentively, eyes wide. “I just want someone who’s going to hold my hand while I try to fix myself.”

Jisung looked at Minho. It was like two seconds of unspoken conversation, then he spoke up. “How about two people?”

Right, that’s what you’d wanted to ask.

“Guys, I wanted to ask… are we… dating, like all three of us?” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers.

“I thought we were, yeah,” Jisung responded quickly, kissing your cheek. Minho scoffed.

“I want to ask you both properly. God knows neither of you are going to ask me,” Minho pulled you both into him, and you turned over and sidled up to him obediently. His chest was still flushed, a blotchy rash on his skin from the intense bedroom activities.

Jisung, however, tries to push him away, resuming his position behind you. “Hey! I totally would have asked.”

“No you wouldn’t, and that’s okay,” He kisses Jisung’s forehead, and then yours. “I like both of my shy babies.”

📹 .˳⁺୨୧ part 2 - everyone else camboy!felix x chan camgirl!reader x changbin camboy!jisung x camboy!minho

summary: miscellaneous posts and a changbin x reader love story from the same universe - or lix's friends <3

word count: 2.2k words

author's note: have some more fun posts and story of the other characters aksjhdkjh idk this is v random but I hope you enjoy

warnings: non!idol au; exhibitionism & voyeurism; camming; mxm content; somewhat implied sexual poly!skz; implied romantic chan x felix, jisung x minho, reader x changbin

<< 📹 .˳⁺୨୧ part 1

Your phone buzzes once, twice, three times, while you're waiting for your take-out to arrive. You expect Felix asking you to hang out tomorrow, maybe even Hyunjin, requesting emergency outfit help for another one of his ill-fated dates. But's neither of them. It's an unknown number. Leaving five messages. Your phone buzzes again. Six messages?!

from: xxx-xxx-xxxx hi! it's changbin, chan's friend the one he, hopefully, told you he would give your number to haha otherwise this will be very awkward ... I'll shut up now

You can't help but giggle.

You reach for the remote, click down the volume of the TV until it's only a steady hum in the background.

Chan told you about Changbin a few weeks ago, a few hours into dinner the first night Felix finally introduced you two. He had dropped it casually, tongues loosened by copious amounts of Korean BBQ and soju and a very awkward moment where you weren't sure if Chan was aware that Felix had been balls deep inside of you on camera before. But it turned out he did know, and he didn't mind.

He mentioned Changbin as he poured you another shot of peach soju.

"I swear, I'm not trying to set you up, but I really think the two of you would hit it off."

You shrugged, gave him a playful wink.

"I mean, sure. Do I at least get to see a picture of him before you whore me out?"

Felix broke out into giggles, tumbling backwards into Chan's shoulder, knocking his knee so hard against the table that you had to stop your glass from toppling over.

Chan gasped, blushed furiously. But to his credit, and to your joy, because you knew this was the kinda guy Felix needed, played along nonetheless.

"For that comment alone? No."

"Oh, so he's ugly?" you countered. Not like you cared. Beauty was subjective after all.

Chan had scoffed.

"Trust me, he's not ugly."

Felix nodded gravely next to him, giving you a sly smirk.

"I've seen him, Y/Nie. He's hot. And exactly your type."

You raised an eyebrow at Felix.

"And how do you know what my type is?"

Felix huffed, tossed his head prettily. You couldn't help but notice how Chan's eyes were glued to him.

"Let's just say you loooove complaining about the type of men you never get to have when you're drunk."

Your phone buzzes again, pulls you back into the present where you're perched on your sofa with a stupid grin on your face.

from: xxx-xxx-xxxx fuck, did I already scare you off I swear I can shut up I'm just nervous

God, he's cute.

from: me hiii~ you really don't give a woman much a chance to respond before jumping to conclusions, huh

from: xxx-xxx-xxxx oh no, that's not ha ha fuck I'll see myself out pls pretend I never messaged and don't tell chan, please, he'll laugh at me if he hears how bad I fucked this up

You actually chuckle out loud this time. You click on his number, create a contact.

from: me aw no changbinnie don't go :( I think it's cute~

from: changbin 👀 changbinnie.... I'm so normal about that If I haven't fucked up yet, I'd love another chance but full disclosure I kinda know you wow that sounds creepy I mean ... what you do on the internet

You falter. That sentence is usually not a good sign. The sweet pink bubble you were floating in pops abruptly. You take a deep breath in. Better to know early than to get your heart broken again, you remind yourself. You still hate it.

from: me oh is that a problem?

His reply is instant.

from: changbin 👀 NO! I mean, no, of course it isn't

from: me so ... did you know before chan gave you my number? is that why you texted me?

from: changbin 👀 no!! I mean I did know but that's not why I texted you at least not in a gross way I ... fuck, this is embarassing

There's a moment of silence. Changbin's little bubble appears and disappears over and over again. The next messages that pop up takes your breath away.

from: changbin 👀 basically – chan told me about lix, and then, when he met you, he told me about you, about how you went on a 5 minute rant about the perfect dipping sauce for hot pot when you were out and I was like damn, a woman after my own heart and then when he said our senses of humour aligned and he thought we would get along and you said you were okay with him giving me your number he did also say what you did. like, that you do camming, solo, with lix, with other friends, all that so I may have looked you up just a tiny peek, I swear and ... uh fuck basically I think you're a goddess and I want to worship the ground you walk on and no, camming is not a problem, god, it's so sexy, actually and what's even sexier is that you like a vinegar base for your hotpot dipping sauce anyways ... if you want to block me, that's fine!! but like, I really really need you to know that I would love to take you out on a date sometime

Your whole face is burning by the time you reach the end of his message. He's so ... honest, and it's so oddly charming. You nearly jump out of your skin when the doorbell rings. You scramble to the door, barely able to face the poor delivery guy's eyes when he hands you your food, before you slam the door in his face. You make a mental note to tip him really well later.

You absentmindedly drop the bags on your coffee table and pick your phone back up. You take a deep breath, before you finally reply.

from: me I don't even know what you look like chan refused to show me a picture you could be a 60 year old axe murderer for all I know

from: changbin 👀 OH well, that would be weird, if chan was friends with a 60 year old axe murderer, don't you think but uhm here let me send something real quick before I start overthinking it

from: changbin 👀

Suddenly, you remember exactly what night Felix was referring to. The one where the hot buff guy at the bar had very kindly rejected your tipsy advances. You were covered in glitter, drunk off fruity cocktails, leaning on Felix's shoulder on the bus, whining about 'just wanting to be thrown around a little'. "I just like ... I want a man who thinks of me as an equal every day except in bed, ya know?! But most of them can't do that."

Then you'd gotten existential. Then horny again. Then you'd thrown up. And Felix had brushed your teeth and cuddled you to sleep, giggling and mumbling how he was sure one day you'd find an intelligent, hot buff dude who would not want you to be a housewife but also rail you into the mattress.

Not your proudest moment.

from: me oh

from: changbin 👀 ... oh? what does 'oh' mean? were those weird pictures to send? I'm sorry if they were, I even asked chan-hyung because I never do this and he said they were good was the gym one too much?!

from: me changbin, oh my god, shut up

from: changbin 👀 😳 🤐 yes ma'am (that probably shouldn't have turned me on, huh)

You don't blush. Years of masturbating and having sex on camera have made shyness a stranger. And men don't exactly sweep you off your feet.

And yet here you were. Blushing at a text message from a stranger. A stupidly hot stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Well, Chan's friend. Your best friend's almost-boyfriend's best friend.

Your food is long forgotten on the table in front of you. You can always heat it up in the microwave.

from: me I'm going to be so serious right now I need you to take me out on a date asap

from: changbin 👀 oh oh my god yeah, no, absolutely I would love to when's the earliest you can do that doesn't make me look weird?

You giggle stupidly to yourself. If you kick your legs a little, too, that's between you and your fuzzy socks.

from: me saturday?

from: changbin 👀 ... this saturday? like in three days?

from: me only if you have time!! now I'm the one who sounds crazy, aren't I

from: changbin 👀 god, no, you don't sound crazy you sound many things but none of them are crazy at least not in a bad way I'll shut up again now saturday is great I'll text you the details

from: me sounds good~~ I'm glad you texted me, changbinnie I'm looking forward to it

from: changbin 👀 me, too, darling you have no idea

📸 @/min_knows posted 2 photos

you want it? j_one ohhhh DADDY j_one grrr bark bark bark grr woof j_one oh wait you prefer cats j_one meow meow mrrrroowwww hiss hiss seungmong @/j_one you are pathetic wtaf

📸 @/j_one posted 2 photos

love being friends with photography majors (by @/hynjn) min_knows oh j_one @/min_knows hi 🥰

📸 @/lixieixie posted 2 photos

fuck a soft launch when this fine piece of ass is finally mine 😈 mine alone 😈 now everyone help me convince him to stream with me

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 lix sos im not your strongest soldier i need this man in my guts yesterday tell me not to put out on the first date tell me it's a bad idea

from: me holy..... 😳😳

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 back off 🤺 that's my man you have your own hunk now please tell me not to drag this man into bed and let him fuck me 25 ways into next thursday on the first date

from: me I just asked chan and apparently, changbin has never even brought home a one night stand so like I'm prettyyyyy sure if you wanted to you could like he wouldn't run away after if you know what i mean chan says he's not the type to hit it and quit it like at all he's a hopeless romantic actually and he's like super obsessed with you :)

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 lix 😩😩😩😩 this is not helping

from: me i mean do you like him???

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 😭 so much he's so perfect almost too perfect, like it scares me a little

from: me then do it! follow your heart! chan says to go for it changbin apparently hasn't stopped talking about you since he texted you he's so down bad for you! and chan says he'll treat you right though when I asked if he means in bed he made a disgusted sound so idk about changbin's sexy skills but with those arms!! he would just have to lie there and look hot and I'd happily do the rest

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 🤺 i am spraying you with a water bottle like a cat okay I'll see how it goes but god, if he kisses me, I might not survive it he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen oh and he's so kind! and so thoughtful and his eyes!!! like i can barely look at him where has chan been hiding him all these weeks i might marry him

from: me ok ok calm down wait until you know how his stroke game is at least before you make life-changing decisions

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 ok lixxxxx i gotta go now wish me luck!!

from: me good luck!! go get your man!!

from: y/nie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨 good morning, sweet lixie, my bestest friend i'm marrying him

📸 @/min_knows posted 2 photos

hi hiii~ j_one you are actually so beautiful min_knows in a best friend way or ... j_one oh! yeah! haha absolutely seungmong nevermind, you're both pathetic

📸 @/j_one posted 1 photo

happy birthday to me 🧁 getting topped by a beautiful man is my only birthday wish. beautiful man please make it happen min_knows happy birthday sungieee~~ min_knows but for the record, your cock is too pretty not to sit on j_one oh haha ... in a best friend way? min_knows absolutely not j_one please come over seungmong kys seungmong but fucking finally

📸 @/y/nnn posted 2 photos

brb 🖤 j_one uhm hello?!?!?! j_one TEXT ME RIGHT NOW

📸 @/j_one posted 2 photos

finally mine 💘 stream tonight! he's gonna fuck me real nasty to celebrate us finally becoming boyfriends! y/nnn we all cheered! y/nnn wait does this mean y/nnn lmk if you ever need a third 😃 for a stream i mean spearb uh ... min_knows four sounds good, too, you know 😘 spearb UH... seungmong i can't believe the day has finally come min_knows just say you're happy for us, minnie. it won't kill you seungmong ugh. happy for you. or whatever seungmong still mad i had to watch you both pine and jerk off to each other for years j_one what the fuck??? you said you couldn't hear me??? seungmong I told you what you needed to hear seungmong plus I'm your stream mod so ... nothing I haven't heard before seungmong same moans, just more "minho! daddy! please!" in between. tomtato tomato j_one oh my god shut up?!?!?!? j_one im gonna die

<< 📹 .˳⁺୨୧ part 1

skzms' masterlist // ko-fi

taglist gen 1: @puppyminnnie @like-a-diamondinthesky @lyramundana @laylasbunbunny @minsflannelwrap148

@caitlyn98s @straystays2345 @3rachasninja @maximumkillshot @sungprotector

@stayconnecteed @mellhwang @chlodavids @kookiesbunny @noellllslut

@warren-thedarkangel @kidrauhlschik @anyhow-everything @krishastumblernow @cutiespaghetti

@hobi-szn @usagi---mochi @stolasisyourparent @steadysuitenthusiast @queen-in-the-shadows

@ayoitschannie @starsandrqindrops @redstayrosie @vitrealisbunny @seukijeuxq

@bakedlilgoonie @bookworm731 @jazziwritesthings @katsukis1wife @minhos4thkitty

@gbskzlover @armystay89 @chuwii3o @foivetimesacharm @palindrome969

@luvyev @binnies-binna @gimmeurtmi @ashareeboobear @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn

@staysinbloom @f1wh0r3 @mnwrld @linocz @linosssss

GENERAL TAGLIST OPEN 🔖 (please be 18+ and have your age in your bio, otherwise I won't add you)

---

AUGUST IS A FEVER — kim seungmin

pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff word count: 12k warnings: 18+ minors dni!!! mild jealousy, mean(ish) dom!seungmin (he's mean in a nice way okay), face fucking, hair pulling (f. rec), thigh riding, overstimulation, dumbification, mild degradation/humiliation, aftercare

summary: seungmin is the picture of self control around you—the perfect gentleman with no interest in you at all. maybe that is why you are so obsessed with seeing how far you can push him before he breaks. OR, hyunjin is convinced that seungmin is into you, and you are determined to prove him wrong.

"Stop looking at him like that," Hyunjin sighs.

"Stop looking at him like what?" You ask innocently.

"Like you want to jump his bones."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"...Two minutes ago you said you wanted to, and I quote, "lick the sweat off of his face.""

"Really?" You ponder. "That doesn't sound like me."

"Yes it does!"

You groan, fanning yourself with your hand. "Whatever! Can you blame me? He just looks so hot!"

The view from where you are sitting on the sidelines is spectacular, glorious even—so much so that you can almost forget the sun beating down on you as you wait for your friends to finish up their game.

"Nope," Hyunjin covers his ears. "I am not going to agree while you objectify my best friend."

"Okay... Well, it's not my fault that your best friend is the sexiest man on the face of the Earth."

You have always thought that Kim Seungmin looks the hottest when playing sports, and it is rewarding to (yet again) find yourself proven correct. Today, he is the main event: with his brow furrowed in singular determination, his hidden competitive nature full on display, his lean body hidden underneath a deceptive white tee and black joggers...

There isn't anything overtly provocative about him today, and yet you still have to stifle the urge to strut onto that field, grab him by the wrist, drag him behind the bleachers, drop to your knees, and suck him dry.

"I'm literally right here!" Hyunjin cries.

On the field, Jisung clumsily passes to Seungmin, who dribbles the ball down the field and swipes a sharp left, kicking the ball straight into the goal past Chan.

A small, self-assured smirked hooks onto the edge of his mouth when he walks back to his position, and you have to fan yourself to stop the heat on your cheeks from spreading down your neck.

"Oh honey," you tut, only momentarily distracted by the glorious view in front of you. "It's okay, I still think you're cute."

"That is so condescending coming from someone who can't confess their feelings to a guy who is obviously into them," Hyunjin scoffs. "And I'm not cute! I'm sexy."

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this," you roll your eyes, gaze still trained on the field. "But Kim Seungmin is not into me."

"Yes he is."

"No... He isn't."

"And who are you to tell me that?" Hyunjin narrows his eyes. "I think I know my best friend well enough to know how he feels, thank you very much!"

You swat at the back of his head.

"Hyunjin, you are literally one of the most oblivious people in the world," you point out. "Forgive me for not taking your word for it."

"Okay, b-but!" Hyunjin splutters. "Not when it comes to this. I'm telling you, Seungmin is so down bad for you, it's actually painful."

"And how do you know that?" You ask, mostly just to humor him.

"Because it's obvious!" He exclaims. "Literally everyone knows. Everyone."

"Mhm," you nod along. "And... Has Seungmin ever told you this?"

Hyunjin pauses for a moment.

"...W-Well—"

You click your tongue. "That's what I thought."

"He doesn't have to say it for me to know," Hyunjin insists.

"Uh, really?" You snort. "Because it sounds to me like you're just pulling things out of your ass."

Across the field, Jisung cheers as Seungmin scores another goal. By now, they have been playing long enough in the heat for rivulets of sweat to carve their way down his face, and the thought comes to mind once again—you would love to lick it off his face. Desperately. Maybe if you begged nicely, he would let you have a taste...

Would he like it if you begged?

"Dude," Hyunjin deadpans. "All he has to do is look at you and he pops a boner. I think that's a pretty good indication that he's into you."

"Really?" You ask, momentarily stupefied by the thought of Seungmin's dick.

"Yes."

"No way," you exclaim a moment later, shaking your head. "Seungmin would never."

"Be attracted to someone? Yeah, I used to think so too..."

"No!" You pout, pinching his arm. "I mean he's such a gentleman. There is no way that is true."

"Yeah," Hyunjin scoffs. "If being a gentleman means jacking off as soon as he gets home from hanging out with you, then sure."

"Don't talk about him like that!" You pull him into a headlock. "Just because you are a nasty little shit doesn't mean that he is, too."

"Oh, god," Hyunjin groans in agony. "Yes, he definitely is."

Your grip on his neck tightens and a choked wheeze passes through his lips. A vindictive smile slips onto your face at the thought of making him suffer for putting strange thoughts about Seungmin into your head, and your grip tightens even more.

It is only when you chance a look up at the game and find Seungmin staring in your direction that your chokehold on Hyunjin slackens. Under the heated weight of his stare, the blush that you spent so long trying to fight off comes back in full force.

"See?" Hyunjin hisses. "I told you he's into you! Oh god, he looks like he's plotting my murder."

"I dunno," you sigh. "I think he looks kind of dreamy."

You drop your arm completely, and Hyunjin wrestles himself free from your grip. Seungmin smiles at you before turning back to the match, and you swoon on the spot.

"Wow," Hyunjin wrinkles his nose in disgust. "In the most offensive way possible, I think you two are meant for each other."

"Aw, you really think so?" You beam.

"Unfortunately..."

You frown. "Well... If Seungmin is so into me, why hasn't he made a move yet?"

"Because you're a psychopath?" Hyunjin guesses.

"Hwang Hyunjin, keep it up and I'm going to be the one murdering you," you threaten.

"Okay, okay!" He holds his hands up in surrender. "I dunno. Maybe he's just a pussy?"

"He's twice the man you are," you sniff.

"You're only saying that because you want his dick in your mouth," Hyunjin notes drily.

"No I'm not!" You protest. "...Well, that's not the only reason."

Jeongin runs past you, the ball between his feet as a mischievous cackle escapes his lips, and the slight tailwind he provides only grants you a moderate amount of solace from the heat beating down.

"Believe me, don't believe me..." Hyunjin trails off. "I don't really care."

"Rude," you pout. Jeongin misses the goal, and Seungmin runs a frustrated hand through his hair as he turns to face him.

"All I'm saying is that there is a foolproof way to figure out whether or not Seungmin actually wants to fuck your brains out."

"And that is...?"

"He rolls his eyes. "Duh. Just seduce him."

"I'm not going to do that!" You hiss. "He's going to think I'm a gross little gremlin that's trying to get into his pants and then he's going to reject me!"

"But you are a gross little gremlin trying to get into his pants."

"Not true! I like Seungmin for more than just his body, thank you very much."

"Okay..." Hyunjin says. "Well, as I've already said, he's definitely not going to reject you."

"You don't know that." You glare at him. "When was the last time you saw him accept anybody's advances?"

"Literally never because, again, he's into you!" Hyunjin exclaims.

"As if."

"Whatever!" He throws his hands up in the air, his face growing redder by the second. "You know what, do whatever you want. I don't care. I tried!"

Hyunjin pushes himself up from the ground, dusting his pants off in a tight and jerky motions.

"Wait," you begin. "Hyunjin!"

He doesn't spare you a glance as he stomps off towards where the rest of your friends seem to—finally—be wrapping up their game.

"Where are you going? Hyunjin? Come back!"

A nice cold shower is exactly what you need after a morning of watching a sweaty Seungmin in his element.

Which is why the moment that you and the guys make it back to Seungmin and Hyunjin's apartment, you waste no time in claiming Hyunjin's bathroom for yourself.

He refuses to speak to you the entire way back, and you decide to take your revenge by making a break for his bathroom. Maybe it's mean, because you know he's had to pee for the past twenty minutes, but you find a little bit too much joy in seeing him suffer to actually care.

You are grateful to find your shampoo is still in the same spot you left it last week when you stayed over. Hyunjin might be your best friend, but you wouldn't put it past him to use it all up—that was the fate of your facial cleanser last time you left it at his place.

The steady stream of water pelting your back is soothing as you wash yourself, and the lukewarm water does wonders for your horniness.

"Hurry the fuck up," Hyunjin whines, bursting through the door without a second thought. His irritating voice only helps quash your horniness further.

The shower curtain is solid enough that you can only make out his vague outline through it, but you don't have to wonder what he is doing in here for long—the sound of him peeing is undeniable, and you wrinkle your nose in disgust.

"You're so annoying," you shout at him.

"Whatever," Hyunjin gripes, washing his hands. "I'm hungry, so like... Hurry the fuck up."

"Yeah, yeah," you dismiss. He lets out a huff, then exists without saying another word.

Your shower lasts a little longer than usual—mostly because you know that it will piss Hyunjin off. By the time you are finished, only five stray thoughts about jumping Seungmin's bones have passed through your head, which you consider an accomplishment.

A warm blanket of contentment settles over you as you towel yourself dry. It is only after a few moments without the stream of the shower dulling your senses that you get the odd feeling that something is off.

It takes another moment for you to realize that the apartment is awfully quiet. The faint buzz of the TV streams in through the walls, but other than that... Nothing.

For a moment, you wonder if your friends have finally learned how to act like normal people and actually use their inside voices—but then you remember that Minho and Changbin couldn't shut up even if they wanted to. Which means that either someone has finally snapped and forcibly gagged them, or... They aren't here.

The urge to go investigate is so overwhelming that you decide to skip blowdrying your hair altogether (scandalous, you know), but when you reach for your clothes, you realize they are not where you left them.

In fact, a quick survey of the bathroom reveals that they are nowhere to be found at all.

"What the...?" You gnaw on your lip.

Then it clicks. You knew Hyunjin had been too quiet earlier when leaving the bathroom. He must have taken your clothes...

Which normally wouldn't have been that big of a predicament, considering that you have no shame when it comes to stealing his clothes, except for the little fact that his bedroom is on the opposite side of the apartment.

Great.

You pinch the bridge of your nose before wrapping your towel around yourself resolutely and opening the bathroom door.

"Hyunjin?" You call, only peeking your head out.

In the living room, you hear the distinctive sound of footsteps, but your best friend remains silent.

"Hello?" You try again, but still, silence is the only thing that greets you.

You narrow your eyes, irritation welling up inside of you.

"Hyunjin," you squeeze out through gritted teeth, pushing the bathroom door all the way open. "I'm actually going to kill you. Where did you put my clothes?"

Despite the anger in your tone, he still has the audacity to ignore you. Unsurprisingly, you quickly reach the end of your fuse.

"You're so—" You seethe, storming into the living room.

And then, you promptly come to a screeching halt.

"Oh!" You squeak out, a rush of embarrassment striking you in the chest. "You're not Hyunjin."

"No," Seungmin says mildly. "I'm not."

He is sitting alone on the couch, his hair damp, and you are not too surprised to notice how sexy he looks like this—domestic and relaxed. The black joggers from earlier have been replaced by sinful gray sweats, and you only have a moment to lament how unfair that is before you remember that you are standing basically naked in front of him.

To his credit, Seungmin doesn't seem fazed. In fact, his eyes remain focused on your face, his gaze cool and collected as you flounder for the right words.

You are half-satisfied, half-disappointed by his reaction (or lack thereof) because on one hand, it means that Hyunjin was wrong and Seungmin is decidedly not into you at all... But on the other hand, it means that Seungmin is not into you at all.

"Ahem," you clear your throat. "D'you know where he is?"

"Him and the guys went to get food," Seungmin tells you.

"Bitch," you mutter bitterly.

Seungmin raises a brow at you, and your eyes widen.

"Not you!" You clarify. "I'm talking about Hyunjin. I mean, he's a little bitch who took my clothes while I was showering and then went off to get food without me."

You pause, not noticing the amused look on Seungmin's face.

"Wait," you pause. "Why didn't you go with them?"

He shrugs. "Thought it was kind of a dick move to leave you here all alone."

You perk up. "Aw, thanks!"

"Although," Seungmin points out, "it was also kind of a dick move to eat his last yogurt, so I guess you guys are even."

You gasp. "Seungmin, I thought you weren't going to tell him!"

His mouth turns up in a lopsided smirk. "I never said that."

Your mind flashes back to last week when Seungmin caught you sneaking the last yogurt cup, and you frown. Technically, you realize he's right—but you had shared the yogurt cup with you, so you thought you were partners in crime.

Although, it was kind of sexy how ruthless he is...

"You're evil," you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. Then, you remember you are clad in only a tiny little towel, and your promptly uncross your arms.

He cocks a brow. "Would an evil person offer to lend you clothes in a time of need?"

The thought of his clothes, on you, is enough to make your brain short circuit.

"Really?" You exclaim, your voice pitching an octave higher.

He pushes himself off the couch with a nod.

"Kim Seungmin, you are an angel," you gush. "I could kiss you right now."

You trail after him towards his room, not noticing how your words make him freeze.

"Or, like," you blabber on. "buy you ten bags of Hot Cheetos!"

"Only ten?" He teases.

"Eleven." You bargain, and he tilts his head as if he is considering the offer.

It is right as you are considering just how puppy-like he looks that he hands you a stack of clothes.

"You can change in here," Seungmin says, and then like the gentleman he is, he walks out the door and closes it behind you.

It's strangely humbling to be in this position—in his room, with only a towel wrapped around you, as he walks out and leaves you alone without so much as a spare glance.

It's equally humbling just how hot his indifference is. Instead of making you want to back off, Seungmin's reaction only makes you want to see just how far you can push him...

To distract yourself from your horny thoughts, you unfold the clothes he has given you and take the opportunity to look around his room.

Despite how long you've been friends with Hyunjin—despite how much time you've spent in this apartment over the past two years, this is the first time you are seeing the inside of Seungmin's bedroom.

Somehow, it looks exactly how you imagined it would. Clean gray linen sheets line his simple bed, which takes up most of the center of the room. Two bookshelves stand flush against the wall, stacked with a plethora of books. His desk is a picture of perfection—white and spotless and so Seungmin, much like the rest of the room.

In a word, it is pristine. Clean. Polished. The mirror of absolute control.

You can't help but wonder if he is this controlled in every aspect of his life. If he was under you, would he still exhibit that perfect restraint? Or would you be enough for him to snap?

The thought is so electrifying that you dress in a record time, slipping out of his room before you have the chance to do something you might regret.

Even the clothes, you notice, are so him. The navy blue shirt is simple yet perfectly pressed, as if he has just bought it, and the gray sweatpants he has given you are the carbon copy of the ones he had been wearing earlier today.

"Thanks again for the clothes," you say as you walk back into the living room.

Seungmin is sitting on the couch exactly where he had been when you first came out of the bathroom.

When he looks up at you this time, however, his gaze seems to linger on you. Under his scrutiny, a flush of heat creeps up your spine and your mind blanks.

If you were a little bit more lucid, you would have registered how absolutely insane it is that one single look from him is enough to turn you on. Instead, all you can focus on is how enticing his calculating stare is.

"Your shirt is on backwards," he says then, and you flush once more—this time in embarrassment.

"What—" You begin, looking down in panic. "Oh. Haha, really funny Kim Seungmin."

Your shirt is, in fact, not on backwards. The smirk stretched across his face when you look back up tells you that Seungmin definitely knew that.

You can't find it in yourself to be annoyed at him when he looks so good, so instead of yelling at him the way you would have it if it had been anyone else (ahem, Hwang Hyunjin), you opt to take a seat next to him instead.

For your own mental sanity, you maintain at least a few inches of distance between you, even as you pull your legs onto the cushions and burrow your way deeper into the sofa.

"Do you want to watch something?" Seungmin asks.

"Sure," you nod. "Anything good on?"

You don't actually care what you watch—he could put on anything for all you cared. Knowing you, you were going to spend the entire time trying not to focus on him anyways.

He says something about some new reality show and you agree immediately. Before you know it, the two of you are three episodes deep and somehow, equally invested in the messy relationships.

It's right as the tension of the episode reaches the peak that the lock of the front door turns.

"Hey guys!" Changbin strolls in, a grin on his face and a takeout bag in his hands.

Seungmin barely nods in acknowledgement. You, on the other hand, leap up from the couch immediately when Hyunjin and his stupid face come into view.

"You."

"Yes?" He responds, unaffected by the way you are glaring at him.

"I'm going to kill you," your murderous gaze narrows.

"Hey now," Jisung interrupts, popping up from behind Hyunjin. "That's not very nice—"

"Nobody asked you," you turn your glare on him, effectively shutting him up.

Changbin plops down on the couch next to Seungmin, offering the takeout bag to him. Jisung, afraid of your rampage, scurries after him, leaving you and Hyunjin alone in the kitchen.

"Where the fuck did you put my clothes, asshole?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he shrugs at you.

In the background, the hum of the TV is loud enough to drown out Changbin's voice.

"Really?"

Hyunjin raises a brow at you, giving you a once over. "Well, you seem to have found clothes somewhere. I don't see what the big deal is."

You gasp.

"Hwang Hyunjin, did you do this on purpose?"

"...I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Yes," you say, noticing the red tinge to his ears. "You do!"

"Okay, fine!" He bursts. "You and Seungmin have been so irritating, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Sue me!"

You are silent for a moment.

"And how exactly does stealing my fucking clothes equate to taking matters into your own hands?"

"Oh, I don't know," he says sarcastically. "How does leaving you, naked, alone with Seungmin factor into my plan to make you seduce him?"

You gape at Hyunjin.

"Literally what the fuck goes on inside your head?"

He glares at you. "I can't believe I set up the perfect scenario for you guys and you still managed to fumble the bag! What do I have to do, fuck Seungmin for you too?"

"Not fair," you pout. "At least let me fuck him first."

"What—?" Hyunjin chokes. "That's like, exactly what I'm trying to make you do!"

You roll your eyes. "Okay, yeah, but again, Seungmin is not into me."

"I don't understand," Hyunjin complains. "Nothing happened when we were gone? Like, for real?"

You think about how Seungmin didn't even spare you a second glance when you came out in nothing but a towel, how he barely even looked at you when he led you into his room.

"No," you roll your eyes. "Because, guess what? He's not into me!"

"But—"

"Which," you continue. "By the way, brings me back to my first point. Where the fuck did you put my clothes?"

"They're in the bathroom cupboard," he sighs finally.

You stare. "I literally could kill you right now."

"I don't understand, though..." He mutters to himself, still confused even when you turn to head back into the living room.

When you look up, you find that Seungmin's gaze is focused on you and Hyunjin, staring intently even as Changbin continues to talk to him.

And you swear—when his eyes meet yours and hold your gaze without flinching, your heart skips a little.

Only a little.

The next time you see Seungmin is a week later when Hyunjin tells you that clubbing is on the agenda for the night.

Enough time has passed that you are (mostly) no longer pissed at him for stealing your clothes and ditching you to get food, and so you agree without a second thought.

After all, any situation in which Kim Seungmin and alcohol are involved sounds like the situation for you.

When you arrive, you are greeted with a shot at the door (courtesy of Changbin) and a sloppy kiss to the forehead (courtesy of Jisung.) It is only the pregame and yet both of them are absolutely sloshed. The strobe lights have been pulled out of the closet and the music playing inside is so loud you could hear it down the hall when you were coming up.

"Oh, thank god," are the first words Hyunjin says to you when he finds you in the kitchen.

"Nice to see you too."

"Shut up," he waves you off. "That dress is, like, the only thing you've done right recently."

Your fingers automatically go to the hem of your short black dress. When you picked it out of your closet, you did think it was particularly cute, but something about the way he says that makes you worried.

"...What do you mean?"

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. "Black is Seungmin's favorite color. Maybe he'll finally get the hint tonight."

You stare at him.

"I'm so glad to have a friend like you."

"Thank you!" Hyunjin exclaims.

"If I ever feel delusional," you continue, patting him on the cheek. "All I have to do is look at you and then I remember there are people much worse off."

He gasps. "I'm not delusional!"

You reach out and grab Felix's arm right as he is passing by.

"Felix," you ask, "do you think Hyunjin is delusional?"

He looks at you, then Hyunjin, then back to you.

"Oh, most definitely."

"Traitor!" Hyunjin screeches as you let go of Felix and he walks away."

"Anyways," you roll your eyes. "What does one have to do to get a drink around here?"

"Did you say drink?"

As if summoned by your words, Seungmin appears behind you, holding a red solo cup in his hands. He offers it to you without a word, and both your heart and your pussy throb at the thoughtfulness of the gesture.

The visceral effect of his presence is only exacerbated by how fucking hot he looks—simple jeans and black t-shirt are somehow already a deadly combo on him, but today his hair is up and the unfiltered view of his forehead has your thighs clenching.

"Thanks," you say breathlessly.

Hyunjin looks at you in half-awe, half-disgust, as if he knows how such a simple action has you all hot and bothered. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady yourself, but when you look down at the cup and see the pink liquid inside, you swear, you swoon.

Of course Seungmin had to be sexy and sweet by remembering your favorite drink.

"No problem," Seungmin responds. "Couldn't leave you without a drink if you plan on spending the night around Hyunjin."

"Good call," you nod seriously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Hyunjin pouts.

Seungmin shrugs his shoulders right as you say, "that you're fucking annoying."

"You guys always gang up on me," he sniffs. "You know what, I'm going to go somewhere where I'm actually appreciated."

He turns over his shoulder dramatically, glaring at the two of you as he goes, but the sly wink he throws at you right before storming off tells you all that you need to know.

"Glad to see that you haven't lost any more clothes recently," Seungmin says, his eyes trained on your black dress as he says it.

He leans against the counter behind him, a lazy smirk stretching across his lips. He looks so good right now that its hard to think—would he look this composed, this assured, while fucking you? Or maybe—

You take a quick sip of your drink to distract yourself.

"Who says I haven't?" You say over the rim of your cup after you swallow.

"Oh?"

You shrug even as our heart beats a mile a minute.

"I don't kiss and tell," you say.

For a moment, Seungmin doesn't do anything except watch you, his gaze piercing from under his eyelashes. The attention alone is enough to send tingles down your spine.

And then, he smiles.

"We'll see about that," he says.

You choke on your drink. "W-What?!"

Seungmin raises a brow. "I just meant that if you've lost any more clothing around here, I'm sure it will show up eventually."

Your face flushes.

"C'mon, losers!" Jisung hollers from the living room, saving you from having to come up with a response to that.

"The Uber's coming in five, we're doing shots before it gets here!"

You groan, the cup in your hands still heavy. "But I already—"

"Chug it!"

You pinch the bridge of your nose, pausing for a moment, but nonetheless do what he says. The sound of Seungmin's laughter accompanies the sharp sting of alcohol in your throat as it burns your throat.

Needless to say that by the time your group actually makes it down to the Uber, the liquor coursing through your veins has started to take effect.

That is probably why you don't notice the current dilemma facing you and your friends until it is too late.

"There's only four seats," you vaguely hear Hyunjin say.

"Someone's gonna have to sit on someone's lap," Changbin agrees.

Jisung, far more drunk than you, wiggles his eyebrows.

"All you had to do was ask," he grins, even as Changbin shove shim away.

The night is dark and cold, but you hardly feel it as you stare cluelessly out onto the lamplit street.

"What about the other Uber?" You ask, thinking about where Chan and the rest of your friends had disappeared to.

"Already left," Seungmin says.

A sneaky smile flashes across Jisung's face.

"Well ,you guys have fun figuring this out," he says gleefully as he climbs into the passenger seat before anyone can stop him.

Changbin sighs. "Well, I guess there's no choice. Hyunjin can sit on my lap."

Hyunjin scoffs, his face twisting as he opens the door to the backseat and shoves Changbin in. "As if!"

Changbin grumbles as he goes, but eventually concedes. Hyunjin follows suit, taking the middle seat.

Which leaves you and Seungmin as the only ones outside the car.

You reach for the door, about to climb in after Hyunjin, when it hits you—you, Seungmin, and only one available seat.

Fuck.

"Uhhh—" You begin, your eyes wide. "I—I can just—"

"You can sit on my lap," Seungmin interrupts.

Your jaw drops. "What?!"

"Unless you want me to sit on your lap?"

The look he gives you is half-teasing, half-reassuring. You bite your lip, considering your options. It isn't fair how he makes such a difficult choice sound so easy.

Eventually, though, you have no choice but to agree. Still, even when he gets into the car, you hesitate.

"Hurry up!" Hyunjin gripes from inside.

"Fine..." You mutter.

Your face blazes as you carefully climb in, barely breathing as you take a seat on the edge of Seungmin's lap.

The heat of his body sends you into overdrive and you barely notice when he pulls the door closed behind you. Blood thrums through your ears, loud enough to drown out the soft melody of whatever song is playing.

"A-Are you sure this is okay?" You crane your neck to look at him.

Seungmin huffs out a laugh.

"Yes. You can sit comfortably, I won't bite."

Even if he did, that wouldn't be a problem for you. Then again, nothing he could do would be a problem for you...

The car eases into drive and you scoot back a little in an effort to relax. You are still gingerly perched on the edge of his lap, however, no matter how hard you try.

Eventually, Seungmin just sighs and wraps his arm around your abdomen, pulling you so that your back is flush with his chest.

"Better, right?" His breath tickles your neck, and you swear, your heart stops beating.

"What's wrong?" He asks innocently, as if he has notices the visceral reaction.

"N-Nothing!" You squeak.

To your right, Hyunjin and Changbin have started bickering. In the front, Jisung has struck up a conversation with the driver about God knows what.

Even though you are surrounded by your friends, it feels as if you are caught in a bubble, just you and Seungmin. It is strangely intimate, and the thought only sends a food of heat through your core.

The drive is ten minutes at most, and yet it feels like a lifetime—both excruciating and delicious as you squirm on Seungmin's lap.

The issue isn't that you aren't enjoying this. On the contrary, the issue is that you are probably enjoying this a bit too much. All you want to do is turn around kiss Seungmin senseless, to beg him to have his way with you. But—despite how much Hyunjin might claim it to be true—there is no way that Seungmin is into you like that.

Even now, the arm wrapped around your waist remains respectful, barely touching you. He doesn't seem flustered the slightest by your proximity... Not the way you do.

The alcohol running through your veins does nothing to help your overthinking or your horniness. It is a weight off your shoulders (and Seungmin's lap) when you finally arrive at the club.

"Woah—" Seungmin starts when you almost fall onto the pavement in your haste to get off of his lap. "Are you okay?"

"Yup!" Your face is ablaze once more, this time with embarrassment.

It is only by sheer luck that the other guys arrived earlier than you and are almost at the front of the line to get into the club. You almost cry when you see Chan—because it means less time waiting outside in the cold, and it means more distance between you and Seungmin before you accidentally do something bad, like try to jump his bones.

"Shot?" You ask Chan when you finally make it through the doors.

"Uh..." He looks around, but the rest of the guys have already branched off through the strobe-lit club, leaving the two of you alone.

"Yeah, sure."

"Great!" You grin, wrapping your hand around his wrist and dragging him towards the bar.

The bass of some awful EDM song thrums straight through your chest, practically shaking the walls as Chan orders from the bartender. You are too busy looking around to pay attention to what he asks for—you have never been to this club before, and everything is new.

The walls are a melting mural of neon colors, a balcony overlooks the dance floor a few feet away, and there is even a clear slide that snakes through the club.

On the opposite side of the room, across a sea of people, you spot Seungmin and Hyunjin. They are on the outskirts of the crowd, drinks already in their hands, and your heart leaps into your throat.

Even from so far away, Seungmin looks good. Great, even. Yummy might be the right word to describe it, actually...

"So..." Chan interrupts you from your daydreams, handing you a cup.

Your eyes light up and you down the shot in one go. The burn is barely there, masked by the smooth, buttery taste of butterscotch.

"You and Seungmin, huh?"

"What?"

Chan frowns. "Isn't there something going on there?"

"Uh..." You narrow your eyes. "Did Hyunjin say something to you?"

"No? You both just spend so much time staring at each other, so I assumed..."

"Stoooop," you pout. "Don't say things like that. You're going to get my hopes up."

"Say things like what?" Chan asks cluelessly.

You are half-tempted to order another drink, but the edges of your vision have already begun to blur, and you know it probably isn't the best idea.

"Chan," you sigh. "I'm already delusional enough. Why does everyone keep trying to convince me that Seungmin is into me?"

"...Because he is?"

To his credit, Chan doesn't sound half as annoying as Hyunjin when he says it.

"Stop it," you frown.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he says immediately. "We can, um, like, dance or something?"

You nod. "Yup. Dancing! I love dancing."

In truth, you don't care much about dancing, but this is a club and you are just drunk enough that your limbs feel weightless, and you have the strange feeling that you might be able to float if you tried hard enough.

Chan is skeptical as he follows you onto the dance floor, but he remains silent nonetheless. The heat of the crowd is electrifying, and coupled with the drunken haze you have slipped in, you feel invincible.

You roll your hips in time with the music, laughing carelessly as people jostle you from all sides. Chan looks worried as you grab his hand.

"C'mon, let loose a little!"

"I don't—" He begins, but the rest of his words are drowned out when the music picks up, blasting even louder through the speakers.

And yet, even as you try your hardest to stop thinking about Seungmin, he remains at the forefront of your mind. Despite your best efforts, you find your gaze drawn towards his corner of the club.

Only—this time when you look at him, you find Seungmin staring back. His dark gaze is piercing even at such a distance and your breath catches in your throat. Even when he realizes you are looking, too, he doesn't look away.

Slowly, he takes a sip of his drink. When he pulls the cup away, the edge of his lips are curved up. you aren't sure why, but such a simple action sends a thrill down your spine.

Your eyes remain on Seungmin as you continue to dance, distracted by the promising look in his eyes. They remain on Seungmin even when someone approaches you, a flirty smile on his face.

"Hey," the guy grins.

"Hi," you say, dragging your gaze away from Seungmin after a long moment.

The guy in front of you is tall and—if you weren't so deeply obsessed with another man (Kim Seungmin)—you would probably think he was cute, too.

"D'you want to dance?" He asks.

"Already am," you giggle.

"I know," he says bashfully. "Just thought it might be more fun if you were doing it with me."

You shrug, a wide smile still across your face. He takes a step closer to you, close enough that you can see the light smattering of freckles across his nose. Emboldened, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck. Any distraction from Seungmin is a welcome distraction, and, well, at least this one seems fun.

The guy takes the opportunity to place his hands on your hip, just low enough to be flirty but not low enough to be indecent.

The crowd surges and he stumbles forward, his lithe body pressing against yours.

"So," he asks in your ear. "D'you come here often?"

You laugh, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.

"Not like that! Just—I haven't seen you here before, is all."

"It's my first time."

The music changes tempo, slowing down to a sultry electro-beat.

"Well, I'm glad you came out tonight," he says. "What's your name?"

"Hmm..."

Instead of answering, you unwrap your arms and take his hands into yours, turning around so that you don't have to look at his face. You then take his hands and place them back on your hips.

"Thought you wanted to dance, not talk," you tease.

"Touché," he leans in. His breath is warm as it ghosts your neck, and the familiar sensation brings you back to the car earlier. Thoughts of Seungmin, and his lap, and you on his lap, and him under you, blossom in your mind. Your chest grows uncomfortably warm and against your will, your eyes trail to where he had been standing before.

Your heart stutters when you find him still watching you.

His expression is blank, a puzzling inscrutable look that sends your mind spiraling, and yet his eyes remain on you.

You are astutely aware of the distance between the two of you, even as the blood thrumming through your ears dulls your senses. The only thing you are aware of is his stony gaze. You hardly even notice when the guy behind you asks if something is wrong.

"Sorry..." you say distractedly. "I think I'm, um, going to go to the bathroom..."

"Oh, yeah, of course—"

You don't wait for an answer before disappearing into the crowd. It baffles you how you can feel Seungmin's gaze follow you even now.

Your horny thoughts and confused feelings swim through your head, a nasty cocktail of anxiety that is amplified by the alcohol. A bathroom break is exactly what you need—oh, how you wish tonight was a girl's night instead. They would know what to do in this situation, but alas, your only point of reference is Hyunjin...

Yeah, you would rather fend for yourself at that point.

The corridor leading to the bathroom snakes around the back of the club and is considerably more quiet than out in the main room. The muffled bass matches the padding of your footsteps as you continue down the hall.

You stumble slightly when you turn the corner, bumping into a firm, warm body.

"Oh—" You let out when large hands reach out to steady you.

"Sorry about..." the words die on your lips when you look up to find Seungmin staring down at you.

The same expressionless look is still on his face, but up close, you can see his eyes more clearly—how dark they are, piercing, but something more too.

"Y/N," the curve of your name on his lips sends a shock through your system.

"Seungmin," you breathe.

"You okay?" He asks gently.

"Hmm?"

"That guy," he clarifies. "Was he bothering you?"

Seungmin's face remains impassive as he asks, but the way he chews on his bottom lip catches your attention. It seems almost as if he is on edge about something... But what?

"Who?" you ask, momentarily stunned. "Oh! No, he wasn't bothering me."

Seungmin nods once, releasing his lip from where it was snagged between his teeth. Almost imperceptibly, his shoulders relax.

"Okay, that's good."

"Seungmin..." You narrow your eyes. "Were you worried about me?"

His lips purse into a thin line. A moment elapses where he remains silent, and an elated gasp bursts from your lips.

"Oh my god, you were!"

"Didn't know it's surprising that I care about the safety of one of my friends..."

"Nooo, it's sweet that you care!" You coo. "But we were just dancing!"

"I wouldn't call that just dancing," Seungmin mutters.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You pout.

He just shrugs, not responding.

If you didn't know better, you would say that Seungmin is jealous. But of what? Your head spins and all you can think is how good he looks like this—mildly annoyed, dressed to impress, towering over you. And his hands are still on your waist, which really isn't helping your current situation.

"Seungmin..." You begin. "This is going to sound really crazy, but I have a question for you."

"Everything you say sounds crazy."

"...I'm going to ignore that."

He bites back a smile.

"Do you..." You hesitate. "Are you—or, well, would you say that you—y'know, are interested in me?"

"What?"

"It's just that Hyunjin has been telling me for ages that you like me," you blabber. "At least, that you like me the way that I like you, but that's not possible right? I'm probably just making things up in my head—"

"I do," Seungmin interrupts.

"See, that's what I—wait, what?"

"I do like you," he says.

Your jaw drops. "Like... as a friend?"

"As more."

He says it so casually you think you have misheard him.

"B-But—you've never shown any interest in me!"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes I have. It's not my fault you're so oblivious."

"No I'm not."

"You were eye-fucking me from across the room all night and I was reciprocating," Seungmin says.

"Don't be mean!" You squeal.

His eyes are bright as he takes a step towards you.

"You love it," he murmurs.

Your face warms and you take a step back, the feeling of the cool wall behind you soothing the heat flowing through your body.

"You're... you're not joking with me, are you?"

"I've been dropping hints for literally months," he laughs.

"Seungmin..." You breath. "Can I ask you another question?"

He raises a brow.

"Can I kiss you?"

"I don't know," he teases, his eyes flickering down to your lips. "Can you?"

"You're so annoying," you gripe, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Now who's not being nice?"

He leans down, his breath fanning over your face. Your heart thrums loudly in your chest, and in the background the music from the dance floor changes again right as you lean up and press your lips against Seungmin's.

The kiss is wet and hot as you move your mouth against his, savoring the feel of his plush lips under yours. He tastes of vodka and mint, a strange combination that has you pressing further into him. You lick a strip against the seam of his lips in hopes of deepening the kiss, but Seungmin teases you, pulling back so that your lips are barely touching.

A breathy whine escapes you as you chase his lips. His hands on your hips tighten, holding you in place.

"Min," you pout, your mouth only centimeters from his.

"So needy," he says.

You nod your head eagerly, and Seungmin seems satisfied by your easy admission.

His teeth snag on your bottom lip as he kisses you again, sucking against it in way that feels so delicious you can't stop the moan that bubbles up inside you. Your mouth parts slightly and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, moving so perfectly against yours that your legs shake.

Seungmin's grip on you is the only thing keeping you upright as he crowds you against the wall, kissing you methodically in a way that has you thinking he has perfected the art of kissing. His hips rut slightly against you, the outline of his hard length pressing deliciously against your stomach.

His mouth works its way from your mouth down the column of your neck, and you pant as he licks and bites at your skin. Your legs rub together, your underwear uncomfortably wet.

"Hey, there you are, I've been—" a voice interrupts. Seungmin's mouth pulls away from your skin.

You open your half-lidded eyes just in time to see Chan rounding the corner. He freezes in his path when he sees the way the two of you are wrapped around each other, his face paling.

"Um..." you begin.

"I didn't see anything," Chan says, lifting his hand to shield his eyes. "I didn't see anything!"

"We were just making out," Seungmin rolls his eyes, his grip bruising on your hips. "No need to be so dramatic."

"Well," Chan clears his throat. "Um, carry on. I'm—leaving."

"Yes, please do."

"Seungmin!" You hiss.

He just shrugs, not even bothering to look ashamed. He remains pressed against you even after Chan practically sprints down the hall, taking a moment to look at you while considering what to do next.

When he finally pulls away, though, Seungmin looks as composed as ever. The only indication that he had been seconds away from making you come untouched a few feet away from the club bathroom are his swollen lips and his blown out pupils. It sends a shot of arousal through your core when he grabs your hand and says simply, “let’s go.”

“What?” You ask, the haze of lust over you clouding your senses.

He raises a brow. “Are you into exhibitionism?”

“…No?” You respond, confused.

“Then let’s go,” he tugs. “Because I’m five seconds away fucking you right here for everyone to see.”

“Oh,” you breath, your thighs clenching.

“Unless you don’t want that,” he says, completely serious. 

“N-No,” you shake your head. “I want it!”

His mouth lifts in a wicked smirk. “Desperate, are we?”

You hardly notice as he leads you away from the bathroom and out of the club, nor when he orders the Uber back. Your mind is too clouded by the thoughts of Seungmin fucking you and, more pressingly, the way his thumb rubs soothingly over the back of your hand as the two of you wait outside.

It has your heart swelling and makes you want to get down on your knees and show how much you appreciate him. Instead, you decide to exercise self control and instead stare longingly at him with a pout on your face.

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin asks.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

“Really?”

You nod, the cool night breeze nipping at your arms.

“I don’t believe you,” he tells you.

Seungmin’s eyes are dark as he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“How can I give you what you want if you don’t ask for it, baby?”

Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes are wide when he pulls away, an innocent smile on his face.

“Maybe if you beg, I’ll give it to you. Maybe.”

You are saved from responding by the car that pulls up to the curb. Seungmin, like the perfect gentleman, opens the door for you and lets you slide into the car first. Dumbstruck by his words, you stare blankly at him, before finally noticing that the Uber is here.

The entire drive back, Seungmin doesn’t touch you once. He barely even looks at you, in fact. Your underwear is drenched, you can see the outline of his dick through his pants, and yet he pretends like the two of you are nothing more than friends, even as you squirm impatiently next to him.

It’s humiliating how much his indifference turns you on. Seungmin is already edging you, and he hasn’t even laid a hand on you.

Even as you ride the elevator up to his apartment, he remains two feet away from you. The silence is suffocating and heady at the same time. 

Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest as Seungmin opens the apartment door. He is unhurried, languid even as he slides his shoes off of his feet and places his keys on the counter.

The thrill of knowing he is most definitely going to fuck you senseless tonight, even as he does something as mundane as washing his hands, is almost too much for you to handle. Almost. You feel on the precipice of bursting, of falling to your knees and begging for him.

“Do you want something to drink?” Seungmin asks as you perch on one of the barstools.

You shake your head and then watch as he pours you a glass of water and hands it to you anyways.

His eyes watch you expectantly and you drink it without a word. The water is refreshing after the club, and you find yourself feeling much more sober after the drive back.

“So,” he says, still standing on the opposite side of the counter as you. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“Apologize…?” You ask, confused.

“For being such an attention whore earlier.”

Your lips part in astonishment, and yet you can’t help the rush of heat that floods your core.

“I-I wasn’t—”

He raises a brow, and you fall silent immediately. 

“I guess you just can’t help it,” Seungmin says. 

He steps out from behind the counter, holding his hand out for yours. 

“We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”

You stare at his hand for only a second before placing yours into it. 

“Are you…” Seungmin begins. “Are you sure you want this?”

“I do,” you say shyly. He looks at you for a long moment before sighing, leading you out of the kitchen.

“Green is for if you’re doing okay,” he says as he pulls you into the bedroom, “and red if you need me to stop. If it gets too much, just say the word. Okay?” 

You nod when he sits down on the bed, perfectly made, and he shakes his head.

“Use your words. I know you can.”

“Yes,” you breathe, standing in the space between his thighs. 

“Good,” he says. “But it’s not going to be too much, is it?”

You shake your head shyly.

“You still haven’t apologized,” Seungmin says, placing one hand on your hips.

“F-For what?”

“For that stunt back at the club, hmm?” He asks, the other hand still entwined with yours. 

“What was that? You like me,” he mocks, “but you were ready to fuck anybody who gave you a chance, huh? Are you that easy?”

“No,” you shake your head, a pout on your lips. 

“Really?” He scoffs. “You’re such a slut, I bet you would do this f0r anyone else.”

“Would not,” you insist, eyes wide as you look down at him. “Only for you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true!” You insist. “Only you.”

“Hmm,” he clicks his tongue. “Prove it.”

His gaze is calculating and cold as he looks at you, and it makes your mind hazy.

“Prove this cock is the only one you want. And you better make it believable.”

He takes his hands off of you and places them on the bed beside him. His words have you sinking to the floor slowly, falling to your knees.

Your hands drift up to his pants, hovering over the zipper. Wordlessly, your eyes look up to him for permission, but he doesn’t say anything as he stares down at you.

After a moment of hesitation, you slowly drag the zipper of his jeans downwards. One of your hands drifts to palm over the bulge in his pants. You consider your method of action before finally deciding to reach into his boxers. 

It is awkward, pulling his dick out while he just sits there and watches you, but there is something enticing about the humiliation of it. You can feel yourself growing more wet, and your mouth waters when you take your first look at him. He is long and hard and pretty, and your breath catches in your throat.

Curiously, one hand holds him by the base while the other swipes an exploratory thumb over the head. You look up to see Seungmin with the same expression, almost bored. 

Still, he doesn’t say anything as you continue to get a feel for him.

He is so warm and firm in your hands, and you are having so much fun with your light touches—but you have something to prove. You give him one more pump before leaning down and spitting. 

The spit dribbles out of your mouth and onto him as you look up again, making eye contact with Seungmin. Then, still looking at him, you place a small peck on the head of his cock. The salty taste of his precum invades your sense and sends your mind haywire. Emboldened, you wrap your lips around him, suckling the head lightly before taking him as far as you can into your mouth.

He is so long that you can’t fit him all, gagging as he hits the back of your throat, and your hands reach up to wrap around the rest of him. The only indication that he feels anything is his dark pupils, but it is enough to motivate you to continue. 

Ignoring the burn in your throat, you bob your head on his length, building up a steady pace with your hands and your mouth. The room is silent except for the lewd sounds you make, sucking and squelching as you work. The noises are so erotic they send heat flushing through you, and you clench your thighs together in an attempt to ease the pressure. 

The silence is interrupted by the buzz of a cell phone. You pull mostly off of his dick, swirling your tongue around the head. Seungmin reaches for his phone and you release him with a pop.

The phone continues to buzz, and he turns his gaze down on you.

“Did I say you could stop?”

Your face flushes and then his cock is in your mouth again. Your eyes look up at him, but instead of saying anything more, Seungmin swipes right on the call and lifts his phone to his ear. 

“Hello?”

You freeze. On the other end of the line, music blares and the fuzzy sound of someone talking reaches your ears. 

Seungmin keeps the phone against his ear with one hand while he reaches the other down, placing it on the back of your head and pushing you forcefully further down his cock. The sudden movement has you gagging, a choked noise coming from the back of your throat.

“Calm down,” Seungmin sighs. “I already left.”

You inhale deeply through your nose, trying your best to remain still. Seungmin, of course, has a different idea, and pulls you off for a moment so you can catch your breath, before pushing you down his cock once again.

“Yes, Hyunjin,” he rolls his eyes. “You’re the one who left me for some girl, remember?”

Your eyes water as you choke on his length, overwhelmed by the feeling of him in your mouth.

“Y/N?” Seungmin says then, looking down at you. “Yeah, I took her home with me.”

You whimper around him, gaze blurry as you look into his eyes.

Another moment passes before he eases you off of him again.

“Okay, bye Hyunjin,” Seungmin says. He ends the call and then tosses his phone away.

His attention turns downwards to you, readjusting his grip on your head. His hand grabs a fistful of your hair, wrapping it around his fingers, and then he yanks so that you are looking up at him.

“You couldn’t even do that right, huh?” Seungmin asks. “I thought I asked you prove that you want this cock.”

“I do,” you whine. “Please.”

Instead of responding, Seungmin positions you so that your mouth is once again over his dick. His grip on your hair is tight enough to sting, but the pain mixes with the pleasure to make a heady concoction of horniness. 

Then, he pushes you down. He inhales sharply when your gagging around his cock turns into a drawn out moan, and then pulls you up. His dick twitches in your mouth when you tongue at the slit on the head, and he pushes you down once again.

Seungmin builds a torturous and steady pace, fucking himself with your mouth as you gag and moan around him. The way he uses you is so sexy that you can’t help but sneak one hand downwards towards your soaked center. 

Your dress has bunched up on your waist, which makes it easier for you to slip your hand into your panties and touch yourself. You rub your clit at the same pace he fucks your mouth, sending tendrils of pleasure all throughout your body.

It is only when your moans slowly devolve into whines that he notices.

He pulls you off, his hand leaving the back of your head to smooth down your hair in a surprisingly tender gesture. 

“What are you doing?” Seungmin asks softly, cupping your jaw.

Your hand stills.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

“N-No, but—”

“Up,” he offers you his hand. On shaky knees, you rise to your feet.

“Clothes off,” he demands, sneaking one finger beneath the band of your underwear and pulling it back so it snaps against your skin.

Your face blazes when he stares at you expectantly. Slowly, your hand reaches up to push the straps of your dress off your shoulder. You shimmy it down your waist, letting it fall into a heap on the floor and leaving you in just your underwear.

Your fingers trail down to the waistband, but you hesitate, feeling shy under his gaze.

“Color?”

“Green,” you tell him, and then take your panties off too.

Seungmin nods in approval as his eyes darken, but his gaze remains firmly trained on your face. It is almost as if he is punishing you and himself by refusing to look at your body.

“Come here,” he motion. Obediently, you pad over to him.

His hands rise to your hips, pulling you down onto his lap. A yelp leaves your lips as he pushes your core over his right thigh, your feet folding under you onto the bed.

“Since you’re so desperate to get off that you can’t even wait for me,” he says, one finger tipping your chin upwards so that your eyes are level with his. “Get off like this.”

You whimper, squirming under his gaze and he raises an eyebrow.

“Ride my thigh, and maybe we’ll see if you deserve to come.”

As if to prove a point, his hands on your hips pull you closer to him, and the delicious drag of your clit against his thigh has your mouth parting with a breathy moan.

Of their own accord, your hands rise to grip his shoulders. Your fingertips press into the divot of his collarbone as you roll your hips slowly against his thigh. His dick, hard and wet from your mouth, is pressed against his shirt by the waistband of his pants. It doesn’t escape you that he is fully dressed while you are completely naked.

The creases of his pant leg create a delicious friction that has you whimpering as you begin to move your hips faster, using your hold on his shoulders as leverage to press your cunt against him. You are so wet—have been since he first kissed you in the club, especially when you had your mouth on him—and you can feel your slick accumulating below you.

You’re too embarrassed to look down but you know, undeniably, that there must be a dark, wet spot on his pants. At some point, the thought of embarrassment fades away as the pleasure begins to build, a slow cresting wave inside the pit of your stomach. 

You roll your hips against him faster, sloppier, and you bit your lip to stifle the loud whines leaving your mouth.

“Look at you,” Seungmin murmurs. “Making such a mess on my pants. So desperate, hmm?”

“Mhm,” you moan in affirmation.

His arm wraps around your back, pulling you closer to him. Your chest presses against his and your hands go from his shoulders to loop around his neck as you bury your face into his neck.

“Feels good?” He asks mockingly.

You nod without lifting your face.

“I’m not even doing anything and you’re already so fucked out,” he sighs. “Could you come like this?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “yes, please.”

His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and pulls you back, forcing your face right in front of his.

“You’re going to come without me?” He pouts. 

“Please…” Your eyes glaze over, the precipice of your orgasm so close that you can taste it. Every nerve is on fire, your cunt clenching on nothing. 

“I’ll let you choose,” he says. “Come now and we can wash up after. Or hold it, and I’ll fuck you the way you need it.”

“Min,” you whine.

“Choose,” Seungmin breathes, his hands taking over for you as he grinds you down against his thigh. “Or I’ll choose for you.”

“Ngh,” you choke. “T-The… oh, the… The second one!”

He smiles at your answer. And then, instead of pulling you off his lap like you think he is going to, he begins to move your hips faster, pressing his thigh upwards to provide even more pressure to your clit.

“Seung—” you start, a loud moan escaping your mouth. The sensation is overwhelming, the pleasure excruciating, and your orgasm hurdles even closer than before. Your moan devolves into a high pitched whine.

“N-No,” you whimper. “I’m going to—g-going to, mmmph.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and Seungmin laughs in your ears.

“You’re going to come?” He says. “You don’t want me to fuck you?”

“I do,” you whine pathetically. “Please, don’t—”

“It’s your choice, remember? If you don’t want to come, then hold it.”

You shake your head. “I c-can’t.”

Your thighs clench, your climax building inside of you.

“Hold it.”

Your breath comes out in pants, and you try to think of the unsexiest thing you can, you try to ignore the solid feeling of his thigh underneath you—you try your hardest to not come.

Seungmin continues to move you against him, but his pace slows down until he is barely dragging your messy cunt over his thigh.

Eventually, he stops completely, watching as you quake in his lap.

“Good girl,” he coos, and he sounds both condescending and comforting. A hand lifts to cup your face, running a thumb soothingly over your face.

You can hardly focus on anything more than his touch, still quaking from the after effects of your almost orgasm. Your mind is blank, a resolute desperation worming its way into your heart as Seungmin lifts you off of his lap and lays you down on the bed. 

You watch through glassy eyes as he pulls his shirt off in one motion before his hands go to the waistband of his pants. 

“You did so good for me,” Seungmin praises. “So obedient, hmm? Didn’t know you could do that. I guess a little desperation works wonders.”

You moan at his words, watching as he pulls his pants and boxers off, leaving him just as naked as you. He produces a condom, unwrapping it in a record time, and you push yourself up onto your elbows to watch him slowly roll it onto his hard length.

Your mouth waters again at the sight of it. He felt so big and full in your mouth, so you can’t help but wonder how he will feel inside your cunt. A gush of wetness floods you, and your pussy throbs at the thought of it.

It’s painful, how slowly he moves as he situates himself in between your legs. You push yourself up further and use your hands to pull your legs apart, watching as his dick gets closer and closer to where you want him the most. 

He holds himself by the base, and then in one fluid motion, pushes himself all the way into you.

A long moan escapes your lips at the sudden fullness and you collapse flat onto your back, the pure bliss of how hot and big he is inside of you taking over every sense. 

“So tight,” Seungmin grunts, bottoming out. 

You nod your head quickly, not really processing what he says.

He pulls out completely, before pushing into you again. This time, it feels even better than the first as the ridges of his cock slide against your walls. You moan again, this time louder. 

“Feel good?” He asks, building a slow and torturous pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“S-Soooo good,” you whine.

Seungmin’s movements are sharp and controlled, rolling into you with precise depth and force. It is like he knows what you need before you even say it, the head of his cock rubbing against the bundle of nerves inside of you.

His thrust speed up and a string of whimpers, each louder than the previous, fall out of your mouth. The orgasm you had been denied of begins to bubble up inside of you again, this time somehow warmer and more consuming than before. It feels like liquid fire as it burns through your veins, mounting higher and higher still.

You have no control over the noises escaping your lips, a combination of loud whines and moans as Seungmin continues to fuck you so good you see stars behind your eyelids.

He’s quiet as he fucks you, but the few pants and moans that slip out as he rolls his hips against you are the hottest things you have ever heard. He sounds so pretty as he fucks you, and the image of his furrowed brow, his bitten lips, his sweaty hair—its enough to almost push you over the edge.

A particularly deep thrust has you moaning loudly, your mouth falling open.

“You’re so fucking loud,” Seungmin grunts, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. “Shut up.”

His words have the opposite of their desired effect as you whimper at the dark tone of his voice. At the noise, his eyes narrow, a dangerous glint in them.

“I said,” he pushes the thumb past your lips into your mouth. “Shut up.”

You nod, your lips wrapping obediently around his finger. 

Your tongue swipes over the pad of his thumb right as he resumes his deathly pace, breathing heavily through his nose. His face remains stubbornly blank except for the slight crease of his forehead.

Trying your hardest to keep your moans down, you suckle on his finger like you had his cock earlier, and he moans quietly at the feeling. The sound spurs you on, and you bite down lightly on it.

Seungmin pulls the thumb out of your mouth and moves his hand downwards, pressing unforgivingly against your clit. He doesn’t move it, only applying pressure and he continues to fuck you, but the feeling is enough to push you close to the edge.

“Close?” He asks.

You nod, unable to form the words as your lips part. Your eyes are glassy and your expression fucked out as your brain struggles to catch up with your body.

“Say it,” Seungmin hisses through his teeth and you whine.

“Aw, are you being fucked too dumb to speak?” He coos, and you nod again.

“Nope. Not good enough,” he tsks, pulling his finger away from you. “Beg me to come, or don’t come at all.”

“P-please!” You cry out finally, clenching down on him as he moves. 

“Hmm.”

“Please, Min, please. L-Let me come, oh—”

“Well,” he pants. “Since you asked so nicely."

Seungmin thrusts speed up, deeper and sloppier in the most delicious way, but what ends up pushing you over the edge is when he leans down and captures your lips with his, his tongue moving in a messy kiss against yours.

He swallows your whimpers as you come, fucking you deep through you orgasm as your cunt spasms around him, and then with one harsh grunt, he comes a moment later.

You collapse boneless on the bed, your legs still twitching as you come down from your orgasm, and Seungmin slumps over you, his sweaty body a comforting weight on your chest.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, still the endorphins lighting up even the very tips of your fingers.

“Are you okay?” 

Seungmin’s question is half-worried, an amusing juxtaposition to the way he was just fucking you.

“Yes,” you laugh. “I’m better than okay.”

He frowns at you, his bangs plastered over his forehead, and then he pushes himself off of you.

“Noooooo,” you moan. “Come back.”

“I will,” he says gently. “Just give me a moment.”

You lay there, cold and tired, as Seungmin disappears into the bathroom. He comes back with a wet towel and kneels at the foot of the bed, gently wiping you down.

“You—”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks. “I didn’t do too much, did I?”

You push yourself up, a hand lifting to caress his jaw as he focuses on his task.

“Seungmin, I’m fine, really.”

“Really?”

“That was the best sex of my life, so yeah.”

He purses his lips. “…Okay.”

“And besides,” you say, pulling him up from the ground onto the bed besides you. “Do you think I suck dick like that for just anyone?"

“Well….” He trails off bashfully.

“The answer is no,” you giggle. “Now come here and cuddle me!”

He lets out an annoyed huff, but listens anyways, climbing onto the bed and pulling the covers over the two of you before wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“By the way,” you begin. “If I haven’t said it already, I like you Seungmin. I really like you.”

A soft smile stretches across his lips. “I really like you.”

Seungmin presses a kiss against your hair. The sound of his heartbeat echoes in your ears and serves as the soundtrack playing as you fall asleep.

And the next morning, after Seungmin eats you out and then fucks you, when you come out of his room wearing nothing but his shirt, Hyunjin almost weeps.

"Finally!"

if you enjoyed, please don't forget to reblog and leave your feedback/opinions! tysm for reading!

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｡𖦹°‧ better off as lovers, not the other way around seo changbin x f!reader x hwang hyunjin

summary: Changbin is in love with his two best friends. When he introduces you and Hyunjin to each other and Hyunjin ends up asking you out, Changbin has to finally confront the feelings he's been ignoring for 7 years. it doesn't go so well.

word count: 24.9k words

author's note: ♫ racing through the city, windows down, in the back of yellow checkered caaars ♫ bonus points to whoever notices my song reference hehe anyways HI! I've been really liking writing longer form, more serious stuff, and this is my first foray into the question of "what if they didn't slip so easily into polyamory"? I like how it turned out. It's pretty sad, but I promise, there's a happy ending on the horizon big thank you to @hyunjins-dimples for being my voice of reason and giving me feedback when I was losing my mind kjsadhjsh I adore you

warnings: angst with a happy ending!; unprotected sex; mxm action; friends to lovers; mentions of panic, could be categorised as panic attacks, but aren't written as such; no cheating but kissing someone even though they're casually seeing someone else; implied bottom/switch!changbin; a tiny bit of internalised homophobia

skzms masterlist // ko-fi

Changbin thinks he might be the stupidest motherfucker alive.

He doesn’t usually think that way about himself, no. If you asked him on a normal, he’d probably say he’s pretty smart. A good dancer, good singer, even better rapper. Well-adjusted. Always willing to go the extra mile. A good support system for his members. A decent person.

And in his defence, how should he have known.

How should he have known that the dumbest thing he could ever do is introduce his two best friends to one another?

Chan would tell him to cut it out, to not talk about himself like that, but Chan isn’t here. He isn’t here because this is so bad that he hasn’t even told Chan about it – and he tells Chan everything.

What would he even say? “Chan! You know Y/N, my best friend from when we were trainees? I invited her out to bowling and galbi with me and Hyunjin two weeks ago. Yeah, isn’t that nice? Why am I bringing it up, you ask, did something go wrong, did they hate each other? Ha! No, actually! The fucking opposite! They met and there were sparks fucking flying everywhere! There was blushing and lingering glances, they got along like a house on fire. They even exchanged numbers at the end! Holy fuck!”

No, he couldn’t say that, because then Chan would ask why that’s a problem and Changbin would have to tell him that he’s been in love with his best friend ever since the day you walked out of JYP Entertainment with your head held high to pursue your own, independent music career at a company that actually valued you – and how he never stopped being in stupid, pathetic puppy love with you. He would have to tell Chan that it was because of that stupid, pathetic puppy love that he sometimes dropped everything and abandoned Chan to his own devices. Because he couldn’t resist sinking into the couch in your warm, cozy apartment, far away from the rest of the world, your cute little socked feet pressing into his thighs, and sometimes when he's lucky, your bare, cold feet digging into his thighs seeking warmth, the TV on some random drama, sipping ciders and snacking on things and talking about everything and nothing until the early hours of the night.

If Changbin was lucky, that would be all that was needed to explain it to Chan, but Chan had always known him too well. He would be his usual, annoyingly perceptive self, and ask what else it was, force Changbin to spill his fucking guts until there was nothing left. And then, boy then he would have to look his leader in the face and admit that for all these years, every single time he flirted with Hyunjin ‘for the camera’, it wasn’t for the camera at all. It was actually a chance for him to be really selfish, to vent some of his very much not platonic, probably gay (bisexual?) feelings for his member, feelings that have been haunting him for the better part of two years.

And then, if Chan wasn’t distracted by the fact that Changbin just basically came out to him, would probably ask “both?” and Changbin would nod and Chan would ask something along the lines of “but what if one of them likes you back? Then what about your feelings for the others?” and Changbin would probably either run out or just start crying. Because he doesn’t know.

But ironically, it seems that neither will be an issue because he’s here, sitting across from you in your company’s cafeteria, willing his heart to start beating again.

“You … what?” he asks, dumbly.

“Hyunjin and I have been texting,” you repeat, seemingly nonchalant, but you’re not looking at him. He knows you well enough to know that this is you being nervous.

“Okay …” Changbin hears himself say, but even he can hear the trepidation in his voice.

“At first it was just about that portable watercolour set he talked about, and then we just kinda … kept talking. It’s nothing crazy, I just … thought I’d tell you, you know. Since he’s your friend.”

“Best friend,” Changbin mumbles, and you lift your head from the straw of your Americano that you’ve been jiggling around the ice in the cup with for the last five minutes. If it had been anyone else, Changbin would’ve told you to cut it out within 20 seconds. But you’re you.

You blink at him, laugh awkwardly.

“I thought that was me,” you joke. Changbin doesn’t laugh. You stare back at your coffee. Swirl the straw around the ice.

“He asked me to go to this art exhibit with him this weekend.”

Oh, good. You have common interests.

Changbin tries to will the bitterness away, but it only settles deeper into his chest with every one of your words.

“Apparently it’s this design exhibition, he said it would really match my vibe.”

Stupid fucking suave, charming, fucking PERFECT Hwang Hyunjin.

“Ha, that sounds fun.”

Changbin cringes. The bitterness in his voice is really fucking obvious.

“Does it?” you ask, eyeing him across the table, something unreadable in your face. He feels like you’re staring right into his soul.

“Didn’t think that was your kinda thing.”

Anything would be my thing if I was with you. Or if he asked me to go. Goddammit.

He shrugs.

“Maybe not, but it sounds like something you two would enjoy.”

Why the fuck would you say that, Seo Changbin.

You eye him suspiciously before you pick up your iced coffee again.

“I think so, too. And to be honest, I’d love to spend some more time with him, we really hit it off the other day.”

Changbin forces a smile onto his face.

“You did.”

It’s not a question, just a … confirmation? Changbin has long lost any idea of what he’s trying to do.

You swirl the ice around in your cup in silence for so long, Changbin nearly reaches out and rips the cup out of your hand, but then you say something that pulls the floor right out from under his feet.

“And I mean he’s obviously stupidly attractive …”

Changbin swears his eye twitches.

“He’s alright.”

Your head snaps up, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline. There’s an obnoxiously smug grin on your face.

“Sorry? You’re literally always gushing about him. Flirting with him for the fans. You’re like his biggest fan. President of the Hwang Hyunjin fan club. Ready to drop to your knees to ask for his hand in–“

“Alright, I get it!” Changbin interrupts you, too fast, too loud. Some people in the cafeteria turn to look his way, disapproval written all over their faces.

You don’t care about them. You’re just sitting opposite him, giggling. “So, do you think that’s what this is? That he’s asking you on a date?” Changbin asks, tries his best to keep his voice down.

You shrug, seemingly nonchalantly, but there is a dusting of a blush on your cheeks. It suits you so well. The fact that it’s for Hwang Hyunjin makes Changbin want to do something drastic.

“I don’t know. I’ll just see how it goes. Go in with no expectations. But if it ends up being one … I wouldn’t complain.”

Changbin swallows down a hysterical scream.

A few beats of awkward silence stretch between you before you get up, and nearly knock your coffee over in the process. Changbin’s hand shoots out on instinct, but you manage to catch it just in time, your hands meeting on the cold, wet plastic. You stay suspended, in that moment, for a second before you shake it off.

“I gotta go back to work, they’re probably waiting for me in the studio.”

Changbin rises. His body feels two sizes too large, his brain a foggy mess.

“We still on for tonight?” he asks. Movie night. At his dorm. He doesn’t know if he wants you to say yes, so he can see you again because, god, it’s the highlight of his fucking week, or no, because he doesn’t know how he can sit next two you for several hours while Hyunjin’s contact is in your phone, and you’re probably flirting with him and sending him winky faces and hearts and those witty little innuendos you’re so good at and–

“Yeah, for sure. I really wanna see that movie, and I really wanna see if it works, to point your projector at the ceiling. It sounds magical.”

Changbin smiles, somehow. Walks with you to the exit of the cafeteria. Folds you into a hug that makes his heart sing in his chest, breathing in your smell from your hair, feeling your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders. The phantom of it accompanies him past the front desk, all the way out into the street and down the few blocks he has to walk back to JYPE.

When he walks into the studio, Jisung is asleep on the couch, wrapped in his big puffer jacket, snoring quietly. Chan swivels around to him, takes one look at him and furrows his brows.

“How’s Y/N? Is everything okay?”

I love her, Chan. I love her, and she’s going on a date with Hyunjin.

“She’s fine. Going to the museum with Hyunjin this weekend.”

Chan freezes, blinks at him once, twice.

“Uhh … she is?”

Changbin drops into the chair next to Chan, busies himself studying the waveforms of the song Chan has pulled up. He makes a casual sound.

“Like … like a date?”

Changbin wants to scream. He swallows it. Shrugs. Pretends he doesn’t care.

But Chan’s confused, concerned gaze keeps returning to him, boring into the side of Changbin’s head until Changbin can’t stand it any more.

“So, did you figure out the pre-chorus?” he asks, a little more forcefully than he has to, but Chan gets the memo. He only sighs before he turns to the computer and shows him what he worked on. But his brain doesn’t allow him any such mercy. Every time he gets distracted for a few minutes, gets lost in figuring out how to make a line of his rap flow better, or finds the perfect little percussion to add to a track, it only takes a few minutes, like clockwork, before the thoughts come back.

Falling in love with you had been as easy as breathing.

He didn’t plan on it, god no, if anything, he didn’t want to fall in love with you. Or anyone for that matter. He just joined the company, too young, ripped from anything and anyone he’s ever known on a mad chase for some bigger dream that he didn’t know if he would ever achieve. He met you a week in, and you immediately clicked. Not in a way that made sparks fly or his heart race, no, quite the opposite. You just slotted yourself into his life like you were always meant to be there. Like there had always been a hole where you belonged until you filled it.

He didn’t know anyone, and you weren’t the most outgoing, so it was easy for you to seek each other out during breaks, during mixed dance practice, after gruelling days of evaluations to eat chicken in secret and cry about how fucking cruel everything was until you somehow managed to laugh again.

And even as the months went on and you both settled in, found your footing in this new world you were dropped into, and found more friends among the other trainees, nobody ever could come between you. Like you found each other and mutually decided to never let go again.

He didn’t fall in love with you right then, neither could he blame anything on the hormones because the two of you never went there. And it’s not like you were the only girl around, far from it. And trainees were hooking up left and right. Even he got roped into a one-night stand here and there and one very messy love triangle situation at some point, but you never went there with each other. When you hooked up with Chan at the company party one year, right after the latter joined, Changbin chalked up his discomfort to the fact that he and Chan and Jisung were starting to make music together, and he didn’t want any potential drama between you and Chan to get in the way of that.

As things for Changbin started going better and better, as him, Chan and Jisung really found their footing as 3Racha, making music and gaining so much respect from the other trainees and from all the managers and teachers, everything started falling apart for you. You were overlooked for several groups, dismissed for your talents. And Changbin tried to be there for you, but you must’ve felt it, too. The distance between where you were and where he was, where you wanted to be, grew too big. So before long, you stopped confiding in him. Stopped letting him see your tears, only the remnants of them in your bloodshot eyes the next morning. And he felt awful about it.

But then you did the unthinkable. Something he’d never seen anyone do. You walked out.

And it wasn’t just that you quit, no, you went out with a bang. A screaming match in a meeting room right down the hall from the dance practice room where everyone was gathered for evaluations, then a slam of the door and you, stalking down the hallway, with your head held high.

Changbin followed you, watched stupidly as you raged, emptied your locker, stuffed everything into a big plastic bag. He didn’t even say goodbye, frozen in place, suddenly hyper aware of two things.

One, his best friend was leaving, leaving him behind in the lion’s den, and he had no idea how he would manage it all on his own. The thought of not being with you made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to be with you, always, in every single way.

Because, and that was the second thing he realised as he watched you walk away from him, he was in love with you.

He didn’t hear from you for three weeks, three weeks he spent distracted and irritable and so, so sad and experiencing what Chan had to tell him was a broken heart. How should he have known?! He had never been in love before.

He was still reeling when he met Hyunjin. Gorgeous, tall, ethereal Hyunjin, who danced like his body was made for it, who had the cutest, dimpled smile that lit up Changbin’s whole body with fireworks when he aimed it at him.

And Changbin suddenly had to deal with the knowledge that he might be bisexual.

You texted him for the first time a month and a half after you walked out. You apologised for disappearing on him, citing your own bitterness, how you couldn’t face him while his life was so clearly headed for the stars and yours was so uncertain. But there was something else in your voice, too. You told him you were with a new company now, and if he wanted to hang out. Like old times. You phrased it like a question.

You met at your favourite sushi restaurant, not far from JYPE. You told him about your new company, about their plans for your solo career. And Changbin told you about Hyunjin. He didn’t say that he was in love with him in so many words, but in retrospect, he always knew that you knew. And, of course, you accepted him. And just like that, you were friends again.

Changbin figured he would grow out of his crush on Hyunjin, out of his unrequited love for his best friend, but that day never came. And slowly, Changbin accepted that this was just how things were going to be. At least until his worlds collided, and he introduced you to each other.

He carries his bitter thoughts around with him, hiding them, as best as he can, all day. Through work, dinner with Chan and Jisung in the studio. Through a quick gym session and into the shower, where he stays for way too long, letting the boiling water scorch his skin until it’s red.

Maybe it’s not a date! With the way you were stealing glances at Hyunjin? The way Hyunjin always served you first? Asked you so many questions about your career? Got excited when you said you liked art?? Two beautiful, single people with common interests don’t meet and stay friends. Not when they’re Y/N Y/L/N and Hwang Hyunjin.

Maybe it’s not so bad! But it is. What is he going to do? Will he have to go to your wedding? Organise your stag do? Can he be trusted not to turn into the worst kind of person and get horrendously drunk and try to kiss you before it’s too late? Will he even be friends with you still when your wedding day comes? Maybe he manages to fuck it all up way before then.

Maybe it won’t work out between them! That’s not any better. The thought of his two best friends heartbroken about each other, avoiding each other when they inevitably have to meet again … Having a lapful of either of them, upset about someone else? God, no. And it’s not like it changes anything about the fact that Changbin is hopelessly in love with you both. Though the status quo, him, pining secretly, quietly, seems likely to be the best thing he’s ever going to get.

No, it won’t do. He’s stuck. He’s stuck and doomed to sit here, with his hands tied, to watch whatever it is that’s happening between you and Hyunjin unfold, from the sidelines. It makes his skin itch.

By the time you text him that you’re outside, asking him to buzz you in, he actually considers making something up about not feeling well, about being held back at the company, anything … But he’s always been weak for you. So he lets you in.

The moment you turn the corner of the hall and see him, a wide smile lights up your face and Changbin can’t help it, his whole body relaxes a little, the warmth of your presence melting some of the pressure of his shoulders. And then you skip the last few steps to make it to him and fling yourself into his hug, and he holds you tight and thinks that maybe this is enough. Maybe he’ll be alright as long as he can have this.

It’s casual, familiar, the way he invites you in without a word, the way you know where to put your shoes, where to pull out the guest house slippers, and immediately pick the pink ones you always use. For a brief moment, Changbin wonders if a few months down the line you will be doing all of this when you visit Hyunjin. If it will be him, then, watching you go through these motions, before he gets to lead you to his room and kiss you and touch you however he wants to and know he can have you for the rest of his life.

“Where is everyone?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen, set down the convenience store bag Changbin hadn’t even noticed was dangling off your wrist.

Changbin shrugs.

“Chan and Jisung are still at the studio, and probably will be for a while. They looked like they were getting into one of their zones when I left.”

You give him an adorable, playful smile.

“Aw, you skipped out on one of your intense 3racha studio nights for me? Why do I actually feel flattered?”

Changbin forces a smile. Silly you, I would do anything for you. He shrugs.

“Wasn’t feeling it today. Plus, I wanted to hit the gym.”

You nod absentmindedly, stare at the convenience store bag for a second, before you speak again.

“… and Hyunjin?” you ask without looking at him. Daggers. A hundred daggers to his chest. He clears his throat, tries to sound as casual as he possibly can.

“Honestly, no idea where he is, I haven’t seen him since I got home, so I guess he’s out somewhere.”

You hum, nod, then busy yourself with rooting around the bag.

“So I got us a bunch of savoury snacks, since I know you like those better,” you say, your voice back to being upbeat. Changbin does his best to catch up with his heart still aching. “But I also got some sweet ones.”

You lift up some Chocosongi with a smile and Changbin forces a smile back.

It hurts, how simple it all is. How easily you slip into habit. How normal it feels for him to hand you a pair of his sweatpants to change into in the bathroom, to unpack the snacks while you’re changing, dig up the projector from the bottom of his backpack, pile up the pillows on his bed until they are at the perfect fluffiness. How sweet you look when you skip back into the room and collapse on his bed, on your dedicated side, curling up on your side, pretending to go to sleep, with a devastating little fake snore, because “your bed is way too cozy, Bin.”

It hurts, but he smiles, because how could he not. He plays along, exclaims a soft “Yah! you wanted to see this movie!” and turns off some of the lights until the whole room is bathed only in the soft warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table, ignores the ache and settles in next to you.

He remains on his back as he fiddles with the projector, and once he’s got it on and connected to his phone, he sets it on the sheets between you, and you squeal with pure delight. It looks great, even he has to admit, the size of the movie just right, the colours vivid but soft against the white of his ceiling, the warm glow of light in his room making it look nothing short of magical.

Changbin wishes he could turn and see it reflected in your face, your eyes probably sparkling with it, but he doesn’t trust himself not to break down crying or say something he might regret. So instead, he just clicks up the volume another notch, takes the opened bag of chips you offer him, and settles back.

He hadn’t realised just how exhausted he was, but lying here, the pillows, the duvet, so soft and inviting underneath him, your warm body next to him, calmly rising and falling with every breath, not really touching much, but still comfortingly there, your socked foot pressed against his calf, the back of your hand resting against his shoulder where it’s curled under your cheek, brushing against him every time you reach for one of the little chocolate mushrooms … the exhaustion sinks into his bones and makes him melt into it. The movie, its music and dialogue coming through the speaker of his phone between you, the taste of the salty snacks on his tongue, your soft voice when you give your commentary on something that’s happening. How the sheets rustle when you move to reach for another little chocolate mushroom. He can smell you, your perfume like a soothing balm on his nerves, and he wishes he could freeze time and just stay here, with you, like this, forever.

He’s almost dozing off when you mumble something and Changbin turns his head to you without thinking and suddenly, you’re face to face on his pillow, your nose only a bare few centimetres from his. Changbin is suddenly wide awake and he holds his breath.

And you … do, too. You suck in a breath, eyes wide, blinking rapidly, gaze dipping down to his lips. There’s so much softness in it, softness that Changbin never thought he would get to see directed at him. That and … fear?

“Bin,” you mumble, absentminded, like you’re just saying his name to see what it will taste like. Your warm breath, sweet and chocolatey, fans against his lips, and he watches, frozen, entirely helpless, as you carefully tip your face forwards and press your lips to his.

Any thought he could’ve had evaporates the moment you kiss him. His eyes flutter shut readily, and he gasps into your lips in a way he’s sure he would be embarrassed by, if he had his wits about him. It’s a soft kiss, just a touch of your lips to his, then another even lighter one. Only when you hesitate, make as if to pull back, he realises he didn’t kiss you back. His hand shoots out, cradles around the soft expanse of your cheek, your jaw, and he pulls you back in because if this is all he’s ever allowed to have, he needs you to at least feel how much he wants you.

And he kisses you now. Properly. Presses his lips against yours firmly, but gently, tasting every ridge of them, greedily breathing in the dizzying scent of your skin where his nose is pressed into the soft skin of your cheek.

It’s like every single one of his daydreams, but better. Because when your lips open up for him, you taste real, the chocolate on yours mixing with the salt on his own tongue to create an intoxicating balance and underneath it all, he can taste something he knows, is undeniably the taste of you.

This time, neither of you pull back. It’s like the floodgates have opened and Changbin’s desire has finally been unleashed and there’s no stopping it now. Pandora’s box is open, and it’s all right there. Halfheartedly, he tries to keep his hope locked away, but his desire is free, trembles through him with every swipe of your tongue until you’re panting, gasping into each other’s lips with every wet slide of your mouths.

Changbin’s tongue is hungry, but his shaking hands hover helplessly, one still cradled around the side of your face, the other resting on his own stomach, itching to reach out but … he’s not sure how much he’s allowed. He doesn’t want to overstep, to make you uncomfortable, but then, as if you can read his mind, you scoot closer, so eagerly you knock over the projectors, fist your hand into the material of his t-shirt at his waist to pull him closer and Changbin’s entire brain short-circuits. He needs more.

Parting his lips from yours is a superhuman feat, but he does so, only enough to be able to blearily reach between you and get the damn projector and his phone out of the way, locking his phone, shutting off the movie in the process, and blindly shoving both it and the projector onto his nightstand. His phone thuds onto the carpet, but he doesn’t care, because you’re pouncing on him again as soon he turns back, pulling him against you with greedy hands until he can feel every inch of your warm body pressed against his, every arch of your back, slide of your foot against his calf.

In the silence of the room, without the movie playing in the background, Changbin can hear the slick slide of your tongues, every single hitch of your breath and all of it is so much, entirely too much almost in a way that is addicting.

And he doesn’t know if he’s crazy, but somehow, you’re still here, kissing him, trying to press even closer, as if it was possible, making the prettiest sound into Changbin’s mouth, until you throw your leg over his hips and grind forward and Changbin moans, pathetically. He’s hard. Embarrassingly so. Pulsing and aching, probably leaking into his underwear, and you seem to like it, because you grind (what Changbin can hardly think about without losing his damn mind) your clothed pussy down harder and moan right back.

You want this.

The thought drowns him, and he finally stops resisting, flips himself until he’s almost on top of you, dragging his palm down until he can grab your ass and grind you over his cock and oh, fuck.

You whimper, your mouth momentarily going slack against his, allowing him to suck your bottom lip between his own, drawing another perfect little mewl from you. Your hips twitch, make an aborted little move, chasing the friction of Changbin’s body, and he doesn’t have to be told twice. He ruts forward, uses his strength to grind you to meet him over and over again, and it feels so good, makes pleasure pool in Changbin’s abdomen at an alarming rate, his mind going fuzzy with the chase of his orgasm.

But before he loses himself, in a moment of lucidity, that he has no idea where it came from, he pulls back.

Which he almost immediately regrets, because you’re staring up at him, chest heaving, face flushed and dewy, lips shiny and swollen, your gaze so glassy and filled with so much trust, it makes reality crash over him.

“Y/Nie … baby …” he mumbles, and you must’ve heard something in his voice because panic flashes over your face, and you shake your head.

“N-no, Binnie, please,” you whisper, shaky hands reaching out, trying to pull him in again, “I need you.”

Changbin doesn’t know how he resists the gentle demands of your fingertips, how he pulls away another few inches before you make a sound that is so heartbreaking it keeps him frozen in place.

“Y/Nie I can’t …” he starts, but words fail him. What was he going to say? Tell you not to go out with Hyunjin? Tell you he loved him? That he loved you? Tell you, right here, right now? You deserved better than that.

You blink, blink again, and suddenly water is gathering at your lash line.

“It’s okay, Binnie, it doesn’t have to mean anything,” you beg, and the words feel like a slap in the face. “Just … just please, kiss me, touch me, fuck me. I need you. Please. Just … just this once, we can never talk about it again.”

Changbin should walk away. He knows it. He should get up, put some distance between you, save himself a lot of heartache and you the embarrassment of having to break your best friend’s heart.

But …

But this might be your last chance a selfish, petty part of him pipes up.

He doesn’t know how he is going to live with just this one time. How he’ll go for the rest of his days knowing what your body tastes like without ever getting to have it again, but he’ll learn. It can’t be worse than the heartache of never knowing.

When he dips back down, presses his lips against yours, you sigh in relief.

Your hands are everywhere – buried in his hair, running down his arms, tugging at the waistband of his sweats, slipping under his hoodie, colder fingers against heated skin, eagerly trying to feel more and more of him until you seemingly have enough. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you pull, and the sting of it sends a shiver down his spine.

With a surprising amount of strength (though not enough to move him, was he not so ridiculously down bad and pliant for you) you push at him until his back hits the mattress. You swing your leg over his hips and, with a single-minded determination in your eyes, sit yourself right on his cock, making him gasp out your name, before you shove your fingers back under his shirt, rucking it up until he half sits up and lets you pull it off him.

And yeah, he feels exposed like this. Shirtless, underneath you, at your mercy, pressed against the sheets, his belly probably a little softer than usual because he’s been bulking.

But the way you stare at him, rake your eyes over his torso, the way your fingertips trace his skin, the way you bite your lip when goosebumps follow in their wake – he forgets to be self-conscious. Because, yes, you want him, and you’re not holding back an ounce of your admiration, but also, it’s you. He’s never felt as safe with anyone as he has felt with you.

You lean down and kiss him, a lot sweeter now, though still demanding, your palms smoothing over his pecs, up to his shoulder, over his bare arms, like you’re trying to feel every inch of his exposed skin. It makes him feel dizzy.

You pull back and stare at him, breathing heavily, your sparkling eyes so close to his that the barely contained I love you nearly slips past his lips.

“C-can I suck you off?” you whisper, and Changbin briefly wonders if he’s going to survive this.

He lets a tentative hand travel up your arm until he can smooth your hair out of your face. You blink, lean into his touch, and your breath hitches. He burns.

You’re still staring at him, waiting for the answer to your question, and he breathes out a shaky laugh. Instead of answering, he, as carefully as he can, flips you back underneath him. But now the way you’re staring up at him is even worse for his heart.

“I’m going to bust so fast if you do that,” he confesses and watches you giggle, “maybe next time.”

Next time?

He wants to slap himself.

You blink at him, something unreadable in your eyes, and then you nod.

“Next time,” you whisper, sadly, wrap your hand around his neck and pull him down. It’s the sweetest kiss yet, something in it that Changbin can’t place, that makes his heart thud heavily in his chest.

One of your legs wraps around his waist and pulls him down, his cock grinding down right where you need it, and it makes a heavy moan rumble out from deep in your chest. The kiss turns heavier and wetter until Changbin has to come up for air. He keeps his eyes closed, presses wet kisses down your cheek, your jaw, until he hits the neckline of your shirt.

He pulls back, forces himself to breathe, to slow down, to look into your eyes even though it hurts.

“Do you want this? We can stop …” he mumbles. He’s ready — ready to accept this is all he gets, ready to ignore his heart burning a hole in his chest with the inhuman need to slip you out of these clothes and worship every inch of your body. But one word from you, a single shred of doubt in your eyes, and he would stop.

But you shake your head, your face so vulnerable it makes him want to wrap you up in his arms and keep you safe, here, for the rest of your life.

“I want this, I really do,” you whisper, and then, brokenly, you make Changbin’s world spin out of control. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The words hurt like a knife, because he knows you don’t mean them the way he does.

He doesn’t respond, instead kisses you again, tries to drown everything he can’t say in the rapture that is your lips. He lets his hand wander over the legs he’s been dreaming about, legs wrapped in his sweatpants, wrapped around his hips. He slides his palms up, until he can slip it underneath your shirt and ruck it up and off and tries his best not to lose his head when you’re bared to him and then again when he unclips your bra, mercifully with little to no fumbling, and your nipples and soft skin of your tits and your belly are pressed against his own.

You sigh into him, fingernails digging into his bicep so hard he shudders. He hopes it will leave a mark.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers. He keeps his eyes closed, unable to face the effect his words may have.

“Touch me, Binnie,” you whisper back, and he shudders again. The way you say his name makes his body thrum with need.

“I will,” he finds himself mumbling, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I will, angel, I’ll make you feel good.”

And with no further hesitation he sits up, places his shaking hands on your hips, thumbs smoothing over the skin right over your waistband.

He’s thought about this a lot, he’s ashamed to admit, but nothing comes close to you right in front of him because — you’re perfect. More perfect than he could have ever imagined, because now he can see all the little birthmarks, all the tiny scars and the light lines of stretch marks, and he tries to drink it all in, tries to catalogue every single thing so he can conjure them up in all his worst fantasies for the rest of his life.

But maybe he took a little bit too long because you’re saying his name again, in that small, vulnerable voice and every single inch of his body is consumed with the need to please you.

So he pulls at your waistband, slowly pulls it down, leaning in until he can press his lips against the skin of your tits, swirl his tongue over your gorgeous, hard nipples, before he goes down, down, over the softness of your belly, your hips, then down your thighs as he tries not to lose his goddamn mind.

Because he can smell you now. You, the smell of your skin, remnants of your shower gel and the lotion you rub in after, but also your arousal, the sweet tang of it coating his tastebuds already before he has even gotten the chance to get his mouth on you.

He slides one leg, then the other out of his sweats, and you let him, one arm slung over your face in overwhelm, making a pretty little noise when they’re all the way off, and you’re naked in front of him.

Changbin can’t resist it. He lets his eyes roam over you as he tentatively palms his rock-hard cock over his own sweats, and pleasure rolls heavy through his whole body.

“Oh, pretty,” he sighs. It just slips out. You whimper, breathe out his name. One of his palms slides up your calf.

“Can I, pretty? Can I touch you?”

You breathe out an airy chuckle that Changbin thinks for a moment feels almost a little sad, before you nod.

“Of course, Binnie, of course you can. Please touch me.”

It’s all he needs.

He lets his palm slide further up your leg, up to your thigh, you part your legs for him effortlessly, offer yourself to him. He lowers himself onto the mattress slowly, eyes glued to where you’re glistening and quivering and smelling so divine his mouth is watering, before he leans in and laves his tongue gently over your clit a couple times, easing you into it.

Your taste sears itself into his taste buds, sweet, tangy, intoxicating, and he wants more, wants to fucking drown in it, in you, and he leans in and attaches his lips to your core, darts his tongue out, laves at your pretty little hole, dips into the wet heat of it, before travelling back up, slick smearing all over his chin as he sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s being messy, and he knows it, his fingers digging into your skin probably a little too deep for comfort, but you’re not complaining, no, of course not, you’re perfect, one of your hands cards through his hair, the other arm thrown over your face as you make the sexiest breathless little noises that almost sound like sobs, and you take it all, every single thing Changbin has to give you.

Your thighs tremble in his hands, your hips stuttering upwards in aborted little movements, your little moans growing in volume, one of your ankles digging into his back and, nonetheless, when you come, whole body shivering, chanting his name, spurting the sweetest sweetness he has ever tasted right into his mouth, it takes him by surprise. He didn’t expect you to come for him so easily, so effortlessly, but you don’t seem to be holding back.

Changbin laps at your release, licks it up and swallows it down while he can before you gently push him away, trembling with the oversensitivity. Your eyes are lidded, your hair a mess and there’s a wet stain on his sheets right underneath your hips, and Changbin can’t believe he gets to see you like this, let alone the fact that he did this to you.

You sit up, gloriously naked and unbelievably beautiful, and reach for him, soft fingers curling around the back of his neck, pulling him forwards until your lips are on his again, and it feels like coming home, sends warm shivers down his spine. He sighs into your lips, and you sigh back, dragging him back down to the mattress with you, skin against skin again, his chest moulding against yours like they were made for each other. He could stay here forever just kissing you, but there’s a fire in his abdomen, a hard, insistent pressure against your body, and your fingers slip under his waistband.

You tuck his sweats and underwear down quickly, one hand still curled around his neck and slipping into his hair, the other shoving at the offending fabric until you can’t reach any more and use your feet to shuck them the rest of the way off — something Changbin shouldn’t find as hot as he does, though he is mightily distracted by the way your tongue is licking against his, the way you’re tugging at his hair, dragging him this way and that into the kiss, making his brain go fuzzy.

When your hand curls around his cock, he physically jolts, his body more sensitive than it’s ever been. He wants to say something, anything, self-consciousness curling in his belly, something about how he knows he isn’t too big, but you don’t give him the chance.

Your hand tightens on him, and he keens, and you whisper a breathless, appreciative fuck into the tight space between you. Wordlessly, with your heels digging into his lower back, you pull him closer, until his lips are back on yours and his cock is pressed against your entrance, and it doesn’t take any convincing for him to follow where you’re leading him and press inside. His moan collides with yours when he bottoms out, your back arching into his arms, and he holds you closer, noses against your jaw, trying to ground himself.

It’s unreal, the feeling of you. Hot, tight, velvety, wet, you. He’s inside of you. His cock throbs and his breath stutters out of him, and somehow you’re right there with him, your fingers shaking as one of your hands anchors itself back into his hair and drags him close.

He doesn’t know how he manages to start moving but when he does, it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He grinds forward, buries himself as far as he will go, and you follow him, open your mouth into a gasp, and when he pulls back you chase him, smear your lips against his. Your bodies moving together, sweat slick skin sliding against sweat slick skin, hot breath mingling until he forgets where he ends and you begin. It’s so intimate it makes him feel insane, utterly out of his mind with how overwhelmingly good it is.

He fucks forward harder, and he is rewarded with a gorgeous moan, punched out of you at the same time as his headboard smacks against the wall, and he says a quiet thanks to whoever’s listening that they’re alone in the dorm, because he can do it again, draw another moan out of you.

“B-binnie,” you mewl, and his arms nearly give out. He vaguely registers himself making a shaky, helpless little noise in response. “So … fuck … good … harder.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his body responding as if it’s an entity entirely separate from his reason, only focused on giving you what you need. He plants his palm against the headboard for leverage and fucks you harder, lets himself go, his own moans colliding with yours between your heated lips, deafeningly loud in the previously quiet room, now resounding with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, the wet slide of your pussy as it swallows his cock, the headboard thunking against the wall – it’s filthy, but it’s like music to him. You’re the best he’s ever had.

You whimper into his lips, drag him in for another kiss, scrape your fingernails over his bicep and heat curls dangerously, deep in his guts, a kind of barbed wire pleasure, building and building. And no matter how much he wishes this could last forever, he knows he won’t last much longer.

He drags his hand from the headboard, down your body, shoves it between your bodies, unwilling to part more than he has to. When he reaches between your legs, where his cock is pumping in and out of you, it’s soaked, and he moans out pathetically. With the first touch of his fingers against your clit, you throw your head back, eyebrows knitted together, lips parted in a beautiful little o and Changbin dives down, peppers kisses all over your jaw and down your neck. He can taste your skin, salty from the sweat, bitter from your perfume, sweet in all the other ways.

Your legs wind around his waist, and it changes the angle, makes his cock drag against your walls just right to make him shudder, and you gush around him, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, trying to hold on.

“P-please,” you sob out, “d-don’t stop … ‘m so close …”

As if he would, Changbin thinks. His fingers are sliding over your clit, and he pumps his hips forward, lets himself chase his own pleasure, just a little bit, and you’re clenching tighter and tighter and then …

You come with a choked moan of his name, walls locking around him, pulsing and fluttering, and it’s almost too much, the knowledge of it, of you underneath him, letting him take you apart like this, trusting him with your body, your pleasure.

With the last, tattered remnant of his reason, he pulls out, wraps his hand around his slick cock and pumps furiously only for a second before pleasure explodes through his body, and he comes in ropes and ropes, all over your belly, the pleasure zinging through his veins so strong it almost knocks him out, if it weren’t for your grounding fingers carding through his hair.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It’s entirely wrong.

He shudders through the last dregs of his orgasm, a bead of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose before it drops onto the pillow next to your head. If he breathes in, he knows he’ll smell the combined smell of you and him in your hair.

He pulls back quickly, but is stopped by the opposing force of your hand on his neck, and he realises a beat too late that you were trying to pull him closer. But the damage is done. Your face falls, your hands dropping to the mattress on either side of you. You turn your head as you wait for Changbin to pull out, to climb off you. And in his stupor, in the turmoil of heartache and confusion in his heart, he does.

You look fragile like that, head pillowed on his sheets, knees knocking together as you try to hide, his cum beaded all over your pretty belly.

“I’ll get you a towel, okay?” he mumbles, trying to be as gentle as he can, but it can’t contend with the awkwardness that’s hanging thickly in the air.

He somehow manages to pull on his boxers, stumbles from the room, into the bathroom; he catches a glance of himself in the mirror, his face pale, his eyes wide and scared, and nearly loses his head. In and out, he tells himself. You can’t lose it now, you’ve got to take care of her. No matter what, you’ve got to take care of her.

Eyes glued to his hands, to the sink, he fishes out one of the hand towels under the sink, wrenches the tap to the hottest setting it will go, willing it to heat up faster. He needs to get back to you. He needs to fix this.

As soon as the water is lukewarm, he drenches the towel, squeezes it out and just about resists the urge to run back to his room. But as soon as he steps in and meets your eyes and dread almost overwhelms him. Everything is so wrong.

He approaches the bed, and he can see his own hesitation mirrored in your face, mirrored in the cold hard hurt shivering across your face. He’s frozen with helplessness, unable to figure out what to do, how to fix this thing he’s broken.

You pull the towel out of his numb fingers where he’s standing next to you without moving and start cleaning yourself up, wiping at the sticky residue of his cum, until you’re clean, hurriedly dropping the towel onto the bed next to you and swinging your legs over the side.

“Uh … I should get going,” you mumble, as you awkwardly step around him where he’s still rooted to the spot next to the bed. Only when you’re dressed, does he dare to turn around.

When your eyes meet, it punches the rest of his confidence out of him. You blink and make to turn around, but Changbin takes a step forward, catches your wrist in his hands, holds you back with a desperation that he’s unable to mask.

“Y/N …” he mumbles, his voice hoarse with emotion. You stop easily, let yourself get pulled back to him, just like that. His heart throbs.

“We’re okay, right?” There’s a beat of silence, then you soften, just a little. You nod, and he lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “of course we’re okay.”

What washes through him isn’t relief, but it’s something. Maybe hope that he hasn’t irrevocably fucked everything up. He needs you, needs you with him, in his life, however he is allowed to have you. He can’t do this without you. He never could.

He gives your wrist the smallest, gentlest tug – just a suggestion. You step forward and right into his waiting arms.

He folds you against his bare chest, breathes out a shaky breath. He can feel your breath against his collarbone, the softness of your cheek against his shoulders. The comforting weight of you against him. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t know if it’s true. He has to believe it.

It’s only a few moments before you pull back, barely looking at him.

“I still … I’m gonna go …” you mumble, and he nods.

He follows you to the door, uselessly. Watches as you pull on your shoes, carelessly leave the house slippers out, something you never do. You always put them back.

With one last shaky smile, you pull the door shut behind you and Changbin is left behind in the dead silence of the empty dorm to deal with the aftermath.

He manages to make it back to his room before the first sob racks through him, his chest constricting painfully until he can barely breathe. Through his blurry eyes, he rips the sheets off his bed, a button pinging off the pillow case, but he can’t care. He doesn’t bother putting new sheets on, only crawls into bed. And he cries.

And because he really does seem to be the punchline of some cosmic joke, the first person he sees when he stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, is Hyunjin.

He looks up when Changbin walks in, and he freezes, before he turns sharply.

Changbin didn’t even bother looking in the mirror before stumbling out of his room on a desperate hunt for a cup of coffee that would cure his pounding head. He knows he probably doesn’t look dewy fresh and his eyes are probably swollen, but Hyunjin’s reaction nonetheless makes him falter. He hesitates in the doorway.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, only keeps his back to him, hands aimlessly fiddling with the coffee machine, pulling out the drip tray, emptying it into the sink even though it’s barely half full, then shoving it back into the machine. It catches on something and there’s a sickening crunching sound that startles him. He pulls it back out and shoves it back in, a little softer this time, though Changbin can see it now. His hands are shaking.

Hyunjin turns abruptly, makes for the door, but then realises Changbin is right there, blocking it, and stops.

A beat passes where Changbin can finally see Hyunjin’s eyes, and he can’t read them at all. He looks … vaguely annoyed. Confused. Upset? Why?

Chan’s door opens and his voice travels down the hallway.

“Yo, is the coffee machine still on?”

Hyunjin opens his mouth, though his answering yes takes a long moment to come out. It only makes its way past his lips when Chan is already pushing past Changbin and into the kitchen.

When Chan’s eyes fall on Changbin, he hesitates, eyebrows knitting together in worry.

“Woah, Bin, you alright? You look rough.”

Changbin drags his eyes away from Hyunjin’s, forces a smile onto his face.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he croaks out, and Chan nods understandingly, gives him a pat on the shoulder.

“Did you and Y/N watch something scary again even though neither of you like horror?” he chuckles, as he makes his way to the coffee machine, past Hyunjin who’s now fiddling with his phone, leaning against the counter next to the sink.

Changbin murmurs something to the negative, his heart aching somewhere deep in his chest at the mention of you. Ah, remember when things were normal, he thinks. How they could’ve remained normal, if he hadn’t been so fucking stupid and ruined everything …

“By the way, Jinnie,” Chan asks, slides his stupidly large to go cup under the spout, and presses the button, “did my package arrive last night?”

The coffee machine screams to life, and it makes Changbin’s ears ring.

“W-what? Package?” Hyunjin asks, when the noise stops, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily.

Chan nods.

“It was meant to come yesterday and I figured, since you and Bin were both home, but he was watching a movie with Y/N, maybe you would hear the door? You were home last night, weren’t you?”

Changbin prays. He prays to whatever deity is out there that Hyunjin doesn’t say yes, tells Chan no, he was out, at the other dorm, hanging out with Jeongin or Seungmin or …

“I was,” Hyunjin says quietly, “but I didn’t … hear the door. I was painting.”

Chan nods and pulls out his phone.

Changbin is frozen in place, staring at Hyunjin, who avoids his eyes. If he was home, then he heard. He must have, right? There was no way …

“Ah, typical,” Chan exclaims, makes both Changbin and Hyunjin jump, “it got delayed. It’ll be delivered this afternoon when we have dance practice. Oh well, I’ll let the doorman know. Thanks though!”

He slides the lid onto his to go cup and makes for the door.

“You ready to go, Bin? We have a meeting with the mixing agent in 40.”

Changbin has never been more grateful for an excuse to get the fuck away from Hyunjin for a few hours.

“Y-yeah, just … need a quick shower,” he mumbles, and Chan nods, already walking down the hallway.

"Make it a quick one, I’ll wake Jisung."

Changbin flees from the kitchen without looking back. He thinks he doesn’t breathe until the bathroom lock clicks shut behind him.

Hyunjin heard. Hyunjin heard. It’s … bad. It’s confusing. Most of all, it’s humiliating.

He strips as quickly as he can, faster still when he drags his shirt over his head, and he catches a whiff of your perfume, and it nearly makes him nauseous. He steps in the shower and turns it all the way to cold.

What’s humiliating is not the sex, no, god, it couldn’t have been the sex. That, itself, was earth-shattering, life-changing, nothing short of magical. But the thought of him hearing you like that? Exposing you, exposing Changbin himself, when you trusted him that you were alone? It makes him feel sick.

Worse, what if he heard the awkwardness after. What if he heard Changbin crying. Fuck.

He scrubs shampoo into his hair, body wash down his body. When he rinses away the suds, they expose faint red lines along his shoulder, down his biceps. They ache with the memory of your nails. Changbin shudders.

There’s a knock on the door.

“We’ve got twenty minutes, Bin, we really need to go.”

“Coming,” Changbin shouts back and turns off the water.

He gets out, towels off and finally takes a glance in the mirror. He looks normal, except for the faint red lines … well, those and the giant bags under his eyes. As he stares himself down, he sees his phone light up, and he picks it up at lightning speed. But it’s just Jeongin. Asking if he was going to hit the gym today.

Changbin sighs, puts his phone back down.

It was going to be a long fucking day.

You don’t text him that day. Or the next.

Changbin’s a fucking mess.

He’s distracted. Takes 20 takes to get one part of his rap right. Snaps at Jisung so hard he actually makes him cry. Forgets a meeting. Steps on Felix’s foot during dance practice.

Not that anyone noticed. They all treat him the same, nobody looking at him twice. He doesn’t know what’s pissing him off more, their ignorance, or his own petty, way too emotional reaction to it.

Between that, and Hyunjin’s severe mood swings, Changbin feels like he’s at sea, being tossed back and forth by the whims of anyone but him. And that pisses him off, too.

Hyunjin … he doesn’t know how Hyunjin feels. Because one second, he’s meeting his eyes staring daggers at him through the mirror in the dance practice rooms, muttering something to Felix that Changbin can’t shake the feeling is about him. The next, he bumps Jisung aside when they get into the car to go home and forces himself into the seat next to Changbin, his thigh falling against his – all while stubbornly refusing to look at him. Changbin doesn’t even dare say his name. What was he going to say anyway? “Hey, Hyune, did you hear me and Y/N fuck? Is that why you’re insert-whatever-adjective-here” because it’s not like Changbin can figure it out.

Because Hyunjin drags his palm over his knee before he gets out, but the next morning he slams the bathroom door into his face so hard it nearly breaks Changbin’s nose. But then he fucking stares again, in the dressing room, big, dark eyes burning into Changbin’s back as he is shooed around by the make-up noonas.

But all of it, it doesn’t make any damn sense. Hyunjin’s upset, clearly, but Changbin can’t figure out what he’s upset about – or what he plans to do about it. Is he upset because Changbin fucked you the week before he was meant to take you out? Is that it? Does he think it was some petty move to keep his best friend to himself? Except that logic doesn’t hold up very well, now, does it, since Changbin’s pretty sure he fucked up your friendship entirely.

Sometime on Thursday afternoon, he has convinced himself that Hyunjin’s mad because you cancelled on him. It took a while to allow himself to think that way, because the delusions – well, he would love to tell himself you probably just cancelled because you hooked up with anyone, and it didn’t feel fair to Hyunjin, but then again he knows you’re not like that, and then his brain starts to feed him hope, hope that you cancelled because you can’t stop fucking thinking about him the way he can’t stop thinking about you, replaying every single moment, both the good and the bad, until he’s sure he will never forget a single one of your noises, a single one of your unbelievably sexy moans of his fucking name …

But Felix skips and jumps over and makes his whole world turn upside down again.

He bounds over to where Hyunjin is sitting on the floor next to where Changbin is lounging on the sofas, Hyunjin’s hand resting on Changbin’s shoes. He’s still refusing to look Changbin in the eye – but his pinky finger is tracing the line of Changbin’s ankle through his sock.

Changbin wonders if this is what the first symptoms of insanity feel like.

“Hyunjinniiiiieee,” Felix sing-songs, plops himself down on the floor next to Hyunjin and slings one arm over his shoulder. “Do you have plans on Saturday and do you want to go shopping with me?”

Hyunjin hums, leans into Felix’s touch, his hand leaving Changbin’s foot in favour of patting Felix’s hand.

“Sorry, Yongbok-ah, I’m busy,” he hums, his voice calm and honeyed, though Changbin doesn’t miss how he starts fidgeting with his ring.

“Ah, right, you’re going out with Y/nie right?” Felix exclaims and gives Changbin a wide smile, before his attention is back on Hyunjin.

From where he’s sitting, Changbin can’t see Hyunjin’s face, only sees him turn to Felix and nod slightly.

“Forgot about that, sorry, Jinnie,” Felix mumbles, brings his hand to Hyunjin’s back and starts kneading the muscles there. Hyunjin’s head falls forward with a little moan that, on any normal day, would send Changbin’s thoughts straight into the gutter. “What are you gonna do? Or where are you taking her? Wait … is this a … you know?”

Hyunjin bumps Felix with his leg, so hard, Felix lets out a little yelp. He blinks at Hyunjin, then Changbin, before he blushes.

“We’re going to see that exhibition I told you about. The one none of you wanted to go to with me,” Hyunjin states, bluntly, both of his hands now busy twirling his ring around his finger in his lap.

“What?! You didn’t ask me! I would’ve said yes!” Felix exclaims, indignant and wide-eyed.

Changbin doesn’t need to see Hyunjin to know he’s glaring at Felix. There’s nothing Hyunjin hates more than when someone forgets something he said to them.

“Yes, I did. Three weeks ago. When we got chicken. I asked everyone, even manager-hyung. And you said you didn’t care for modern art.” Felix falters, freckled face falling into an expression of embarrassment.

“Oh,” he mumbles, “well, I would’ve gone with you if I’d known nobody else wanted to go.”

Hyunjin scoffs, tosses his hair out of his eyes. He brings his hands up to his face, as if he’s inspecting his cuticles.

“Well, she wanted to go. Really wanted to, actually. She asked me to take her.” He says it nonchalantly, his voice the picture of calm confidence, but Changbin can see the muscles tick in his neck.

‘He asked me to go to this art exhibit with him this weekend’ the memory of your voice says. Changbin tries not to let it get to him. He fails spectacularly.

Hyunjin tosses his head again and gets up, his arm brushing sparks against Changbin’s leg as he gets up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go shower.”

He’s out the door before Changbin or Felix can say another word.

Then Felix looks at Changbin and Changbin is out of his seat at lightning speed.

“Hyung …” Felix sighs, his eyes big and round and full of pity. Changbin shakes his head.

“You don’t like that Hyunjin and Y/N are going on a date?”

Changbin doesn’t answer, focuses instead on shoving his towel, his bottle, his phone’s portable battery, all of it into his backpack.

“It’s okay if you don’t, you know?” Felix tries again, “but then I think you should tell them, instead of keeping it inside.”

“Yongbok-ah …” Changbin says, warningly, and it comes out a lot meaner than he intends to. He watches Felix flinch and sighs.

“Please, drop it.”

Felix deflates and Changbin feels even worse.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “but if you do end up wanting to talk about it, I’m here, okay?”

Changbin nods, pats Felix’s shoulder and gets up.

Changbin knows that he won’t. He can’t even begin to think of confessing all of this to Chan, how could he unload it onto Felix, his most precious dongsaeng. But he knows Felix will feel better if he agrees. So he lies.

“I will, thank you, Yongbok-ah.”

When Changbin’s phone buzzes on the mixing desk next to Chan at 1am on Friday night, 12 hours out from when he presumes your date with Hyunjin is, Changbin doesn’t even bother to check it.

But Chan glances over and picks it up.

“Y/N’s texting,” he says, casually, and hands Changbin his phone, like Changbin’s heart didn’t just fall into his ass.

If he was alone, Changbin doesn’t know if he would’ve checked it. But Chan is right there, and he doesn’t have the strength to make up an excuse for why he would be ignoring a text from his best friend. So he unlocks his phone.

from: Y/Nie hey hey Y/Nie is typing….

“Do you think we should keep Seungmin’s first or second take?” Chan asks. Changbin blinks at him and Chan presses play, brows furrowed, eyes glued to the screen.

They sound identical.

“I think the first one’s better, right?” Chan muses, and Changbin’s phone buzzes in his hands.

“Yeah, totally,” he mumbles, and whips his head back down. You texted again. His heartbeat picks up.

from: Y/Nie sorry for the radio silence 😅 kinda had to convince myself you didn’t hate me because you didn’t text me either but then I realised that that is hypocritical of me so here I am … please don’t hate me

Butterflies. A swarm of them. Something warm, dripping down Changbin’s spine. Regret, still, too much of it to put into words, but mostly … relief.

As quickly as he can, he replies.

from: me of course, I don’t hate you I could never

He tries to calm down, tells himself not to be too honest. Not when the situation is so fragile. Not over text.

from: Y/Nie THANK GOD

The message makes him huff out a laugh, and Chan looks over and gives him a little smile. Changbin blushes.

The dots, the little Y/Nie is typing…. text blinks in and out of existence for a solid minute before your next message pops up.

from: Y/Nie because I kinda really missed you

Changbin takes a deep, steadying breath.

I missed you, too is what he wants to say. I missed you, too, I always do. I wish it hadn’t ended the way it did. I wish I could stop loving you, but I can’t. But I want you in my life in whatever form I can.

from: me I missed you, too I think chan is sick of me actually being at the studio instead of disappearing at some point and leaving him to do his work

Changbin looks up. Chan is humming under his breath, completely relaxed, editing a midi track, his knee bouncing under the table. Sorry, Chan

from: Y/Nie well, we can’t have that! chan needs to write the next big stray kids hit, we can’t have you distract him like that!

from: me yah! you say you missed me and the first thing you do is bully me

from: Y/Nie gotta keep you humble ;)

Changbin sighs. He knows this probably isn’t a solution, pretending like it never happened, just going back to how things were before. But it feels so good. And everything … it’s too big, it’s too much. And if this is the only way your friendship will survive, then he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever you give him.

It’s silent for a few seconds and Changbin wonders if that’s it, but then you text one last time.

from: Y/Nie I gotta sleep now but let’s get lunch next week?

from: me I’d love that night, y/nie

from: Y/Nie night, bin <3

It’s the heart that sustains him, makes him breathe easier for the next half hour and all the way home and into bed. He falls asleep easily for the first time in days, sleeps a dreamless, restful sleep until he wakes up to the sun peeking in through the blinds, the warm sheets – and Hyunjin yelling at Jisung to get out of the bathroom.

The realisation crashes over him without mercy.

Hyunjin is getting ready. To go out. With you.

Dread collects and settles thickly into his bones, makes him bury himself further under the sheets as he fishes for his phone and opens his chat with Chan.

from: me yo what are you doing today? wanna hit the gym and write some music?

He places his phone down on the mattress, and he waits. Listens to the sounds of the traffic outside, of the dorm slowly waking up; hears Jisung screech, then Hyunjin yell something, before a door slams.

His phone buzzes.

from: cb97 sorry, man, already at the gym now having lunch with young-hyun later probably won’t make it to the studio at all today

Changbin buries his face in his pillow and sighs. Hyunjin’s cackle sifts through the cracks in the door.

He can’t stay here. He can’t witness Hyunjin getting all dolled up, wearing some cute outfit, bouncing out of the front door on his merry way to a date that might as well seal Changbin’s fate. No, he needs to figure something out, he needs to go.

So he texts the only other person he knows would willingly spend a Saturday buried in a dark, lightless studio.

from: me yah jisung-ah what are you doing today

If he mentally says a prayer as he waits for his answer, that’s between him and his pillow.

Jisung, predictably, texts back almost immediately.

from: j.one morning hyung~~ probably gonna to the company work on some songs why?

from: me need any help? or want some company? I need to get out of the house today

There’s silence for a minute, and even Jisung’s and Hyunjin’s bickering has gone silent. Changbin tries not to let his paranoia get the best of him. Hyunjin’s getting ready. Jisung is probably just on his phone on his bed. Or texting Minho.

It takes a few minutes before Jisung finally responds.

from: j.one sure! I actually got this rap I would love to get your input on

from: me cool leave in an hour?

from: j.one 👍

And it’s so quiet that Changbin really, really thought he could get away with it. That he could leave the dorm, with Jisung, without bumping into Hyunjin but, of course, he couldn’t.

He opens his door, takes one step, and collides with Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The impact isn’t strong, only enough to send Changbin reeling back a few steps, his backpack dropping from his hand and onto the floor, but that’s not what slams the breath out of his chest.

It’s Hyunjin’s perfume, the one he only wears for special occasions, thick and floral and, at the same time, somehow manly, laced with the smell of his shampoo and his hair, curling into Changbin’s nose and making his mouth water. And it only gets worse when he looks up and meets Hyunjin’s eyes. He’s always been a master at dramatising himself. Unlike Changbin, who’s always just the same, just … Changbin, Hyunjin knows exactly how to dress himself to look the perfect level of casual, yet fuckable. His long black hair is a little wavy, casual and he’s wearing make-up. Not a lot, for their standards, but just a bit. Just enough. Foundation, a light shade of brown around his eyes that renders them big and soft, soft pink lip balm on his full lips that makes them look obscenely kissable. If Changbin wasn’t already terminally, irrevocably in love with him, he’s sure he would fall in love with him then. He swallows bitterly when he realises that that’s probably actually exactly what Hyunjin is going for. With you.

Hyunjin’s dressed simply, but clearly with intent. Blue jeans, a white t-shirt, that’s just tight enough to sit snugly over his shoulders and his biceps and his … Changbin swallows … his pecs, and …

“Are those Jisung’s shoes?”

The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them. The first words he and Hyunjin have exchanged in three days, and he’s asking about Jisung’s shoes?!

Hyunjin falters for a second, clearly stupefied by Changbin’s question. He nods slowly.

Changbin just nods back, barely manages to look Hyunjin in the eyes.

They didn’t get dressed together. Jisung knows nothing. I’m being paranoid. I’m being paranoid. Changbin, you’re being paranoid!!!!!!

Changbin must really be losing it because Hyunjin’s brows pull together in a grimace of concern that somehow makes him look even more like an angel.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

He sounds like he cares so much. Changbin wants to laugh. Or cry. Or both at the same time.

“I’m fine, Hyunjin-ah,” he forces out, forces a smile as he bends down and picks up his backpack.

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin adds, almost too fast. He sucks his bottom lip, starts gnawing at it. He looks like wants to say something else, but Changbin doesn’t let him. He can’t. Who knows what this conversation could turn into. Hyunjin needs to go meet you and Changbin needs to go to the studio with Jisung. It’s better this way.

“Don’t worry about me,” he chirps, so fake it makes his teeth ache with it, and pushes past Hyunjin as fast as he possibly can. He ignores the new wave of Hyunjin’s perfume that slams into him as he makes his way to the kitchen, where, thankfully, he finds Jisung already waiting.

Jisung’s head whips up when Changbin barges in, and they only widen more when Changbin beams at him and waves him towards the door.

“Let’s go, Jisung-ah!” he exclaims, much too loudly, and turns around before he can see Jisung throw a glance towards the hallway he just came from or look at him with any more of the surprise or the concern that makes Changbin’s stomach turn.

Thankfully, Jisung follows him, doesn’t ask any questions. Only falls into step with Changbin and when Changbin asks, talks about the song he wanted help with. Jisung had always been his favourite dongsaeng.

Changbin manages not to think about you and Hyunjin for most of the day. But what he does think about, a lot, is the moment he would have to face Hyunjin. By the time he drifts off to sleep he’s sure he’s imagined all the worst possible outcomes, Hyunjin stumbling in late at night only half dressed, Hyunjin walking into the kitchen the next morning with hickeys on his neck, Hyunjin with literal hearts floating around his head for all Changbin knows – but none of that happens.

He meets Hyunjin the next day in the kitchen when he goes to get a snack. Hyunjin, dressed in his ratty old sweatpants and his hair tied up haphazardly, is filling the little transparent cup Changbin knows he uses for painting with water by the sink, looks just like he always does. He turns around, sees Changbin, and smiles. A little sheepish, a little awkward, maybe, but he smiles. And Changbin does what he does best. He takes the excuse to delude himself, and he runs with it.

On Monday, they have a schedule. Hyunjin picks the make-up chair next to him. They don’t talk much, but Hyunjin knocks his foot against his and shows him a meme of a little piglet and a bunny being friends about halfway through, a devastatingly pretty smile on his lips. Changbin smiles back.

On Tuesday, Changbin meets you for lunch at your company. You hug him hello, wrap your hand around his arm so you don’t lose him as you pull him through the packed cafeteria. You pick out his favourite melon soda from the refrigerator without him having to ask. You chatter about this album you’re working on, about your parents coming to visit in a couple weeks. You don’t talk about Hyunjin. When you smile at him and sneak half of your helping of chicken onto his plate in exchange for one of his mushrooms, he can’t bring himself to ask. He hugs you goodbye.

On Wednesday, he stays late at the studio with Chan and Jisung. They get into a flow, manage to finish the demos for two songs. Write another, late at night, delirious off sugar and lack of sleep, one that will probably never see the light of day. He loves them. He comes home smiling, waves them off down the hallway to their rooms before he gets himself a bottle of water from the fridge. He takes a little detour past Hyunjin’s room almost automatically. His door is ajar, the light on, but he can hear Hyunjin snore quietly. He creeps in, tiptoes over to the bedside table, where the light is still on, throwing a hazy warm glow over Hyunjin’s sleeping form. Glossy lips parted, eyebrows slightly drawn up, almost like he’s surprised, his hair messily fanned over the pillow half his face is smushed into, he’s the most beautiful thing Changbin has ever seen. He indulges himself, brushes a few of his strands out of his eyes, lets his fingertip drag over the curve of his cheek, before he switches off the lamp and leaves, closing the door behind him.

On Thursday, he catches Hyunjin giggling at his phone, but he’s already convinced himself that the date on Saturday was most likely a dud. Maybe not even bad, just … not as exciting as you’d hoped. Maybe you’d met and the spark you’d both felt wasn’t there. Maybe you said something about the art that gave Hyunjin the ick. Maybe his dreaminess was too much for your pragmatic nature.

Because if it had been any other way, Hyunjin wouldn’t have just gone back to normal, right? Back to leaning against Changbin in the elevator and giggling with him in the kitchen. And you, you would’ve brought it up, right? That first day at lunch, or the countless times you texted after that. Right?

If Hyunjin and you had had a good date, if you’d kissed (a notion Changbin can’t entertain for too long because the mere idea of it makes him dizzy with a lot of confusing feelings that he refuses to decode right now) or if you’d agreed on a second date, if you were still talking, he wouldn’t be here right now, two weeks later, sitting on your sofa at some ungodly hour, ripped from the studio, from Chan who watched him go with a knowing, unsurprised grin, the remnants of delivery tteokbokki and dumplings still on the table and some random drama on the TV.

Your body wouldn’t have been slowly drifting towards his over the last hour, you wouldn’t have slung your leg over his, you … you wouldn’t have fallen asleep snuggled into his shoulder the way you did. Breathing softly, fingers twitching where they were still holding on to him.

And when he carried your half awake form to your bedroom later, tucked you into bed, you wouldn’t have leaned up, murmured his name, wouldn’t have pulled him into the softest, gentlest, kiss, just the pressure of your soft lips against his …

Right?

Except you would, apparently.

Changbin wasn’t meant to go to the company the next day. He was meant to have a day off, and he didn’t mean to work, he just wanted to get his laptop because he forgot it the night before because he was so eager to get out of there to get to yours–

Changbin wasn’t meant to be here.

He wasn’t meant to round a corner and see Hyunjin, standing between your legs where you’re sitting on the shoe storage outside the dance practice room, one hand caressing the skin of your back under your shirt, the other pulling your hips closer against his, as if your legs aren’t wrapped around him. He’s not meant to see you, tonguing into Hyunjin’s open mouth, the lips that were pressed against his not even 12 hours before pulled into a delirious smile as you devour each other.

Nausea rises in Changbin’s throat when Hyunjin giggles, when you bring your hand to gently cup his face. It’s so intimate. It doesn’t take a genius to see that this isn’t the first time you’re kissing either. Changbin’s stomach turns.

He turns on his heels, makes sure not to make a sound until he rounds the corner again, and then he runs.

He makes it into one of the studios before the first tears fall.

Fuck, this hurts worse than he thought it would.

Oh, he’s so fucking stupid.

Fuck, it hurts.

Now that he’s thinking about it, really thinking about it, there had never been any indication that you stopped talking after your date. Hyunjin had gone back to normal, and so did you because … he slams his fist against the side of his head so hard that it aches. He’s so fucking stupid. Of course, you went back to normal – because that’s all you were. Friends. You and him. Hyunjin and him. Friends.

But now that he’s seen it, he can’t stop thinking about it. Your date went well. You met Hyunjin at the museum, probably looked at his stupid casual outfit that showed off his stupidly attractive body, and you had probably worn something equally casual but flattering because you, too, were good at that. And then the two of you had probably walked through the museum and talked about art and life and the human condition, with sparkling eyes, maybe your hands had brushed, maybe Hyunjin had booked the museum for after-hours so you could have it to yourself, and maybe he kissed you in front of some painting and …

His stomach feels like it’s filled with lead.

He wonders if Yongbok knows. If Hyunjin came back from his date and told Jisung and Chan.

Why hadn’t he told him?! A part of him knows, it’s because he heard you and Changbin and … maybe he felt it even before then, Changbin’s resistance to the idea of them dating. Of course, he would. Hyunjin probably knew how fucking pathetically in love Changbin was with you and probably knew that you weren’t and …

But then why did he even date you? What happened to bros before hoes? I mean he saw the sparks, he saw the glint in Hyunjin’s eyes, the smile on your face but … was it worth it to Hyunjin? Was the connection that strong?

Also … why did you kiss him last night? He knows you were sleepy, but not that sleepy, right? And you weren’t aiming for his cheek, there was no way …

Changbin’s head hurts. And so does his heart. He still doesn’t have his laptop, because he would have to walk back and past where he saw you to get it, but it’s not like it matters anyway. And he wonders how on earth he’s going to navigate this new reality.

The reality where you and Hyunjin are … well, whatever you are. His heart cracks a little in his chest when he thinks the words.

In love.

“Right,” the staff member who’s always in charge of their SKZ Code episodes says and claps her hands. She looks oddly excited. “For today, you are going to pretend to be doctors. Surgeons, nurses, whatever, get funny with it!”

She grins, takes a look at the eight boys all lined up in front of her in fake scrubs and white jeans and lab coats.

Changbin feels stupid.

He’s also in a bad mood, which doesn’t help, but the outfit makes him feel stupid. Where there was sadness, there is a slowly simmering, building rage now. Changbin’s been watching it build slowly, watching his resentment thicken, his mood sour, and he hasn’t even bothered to try to cool himself off, because what’s his other option? Going back to heartbreak? No, he’d rather be angry. At himself sometimes, but also at Hyunjin, at you, pretending everything is fine — at being forced to watch Hyunjin giggle, bite his lip at his phone at least once a day. Sometimes he even nudges Yongbok, tilts his screen, points at something and whispers and Yongbok wiggles his eyebrow. And it’s not like Changbin would’ve talked to Yongbok, even though he offered, but the idea that that option was taken from him? It also pisses him off. So Hyunjin doesn’t just get you, he also gets Felix, huh? What does Changbin get? He gets fucking nothing.

He’s still brooding as the staff sorts them into groups, chatters to them, about the games they’ll play.

“The first group is Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin and Jeongin, the other Jisung, Minho, Seungmin and Yongbok,” she announces, pointing to the two tables set-up between them, “go to your team and pick what kind of doctors you want to be. That’ll be your team name.”

Chan shimmies over to him with a blinding smile, throws an arm around him and coos his name, his usual affection, just a little bit ramped up for the cameras – and trying to lift Changbin’s mood, because of course Chan knows.

“Binniiiiie,” Chan coos with a giggle, “we’ll be in a team. What kind of doctors should we be? Brain surgeons?”

Jeongin scoffs as he makes his way to Changbin’s other side. “We’re so not smart enough for that.”

Hyunjin is the last to find his way to them and Changbin tries not to look, but of course, he does. Hyunjin looks between Changbin and Chan and Jeongin, and Changbin does his best to tell himself that what he sees in his eyes isn’t disappointment.

Hyunjin makes his way over to them, a too bright smile plastered on his face.

“We could be doctors for like muscles and stuff, because we dance so much,” Jeongin muses, half distracted by Seungmin making faces at him across the room.

Hyunjin chuckles, tips how head to the side, makes eye contact with Changbin.

“Or we could be heart doctors?” he singsongs, making Chan chuckle into Changbin’s ear.

Changbin blinks. He can’t be serious …

“Ooh, Hyunjinnie, you want to be a love doctor?” Chan coos.

Hyunjin just giggles, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

Changbin stays quiet. Usually, he would’ve taken the opportunity. Would have walked right over there with a dramatic sigh of Hyunjin’s name, mumbling something about him not needing a love doctor when Changbin was right there, to take care of his heart, or some bullshit. But he doesn’t. He stubbornly crosses his arms and stares at the wall.

Jeongin next to them is oblivious.

“I like it, very macho,” he chuckles, and so it’s decided.

Chan announces the team name once the staff asks, Seungmin does his usual MC duties and they play. Rock paper scissors to decide the order. A spelling game.

Changbin knows he’s quiet, but he hopes it’s not too noticeable. Or at least Stay can forgive him just this once when the episode comes out. Because he’s trying his best to stay as far away from Hyunjin as possible, and it’s equally difficult as it is heartbreaking. Because Changbin misses his best friend.

Hyunjin cackles about something Jeongin said, and throws his arm around him. And Changbin aches. He feels like he’ll never stop aching.

“Next,” Seungmin monotones, “we’re going to be diagnosing each other as — each other!”

Everyone dutifully makes confused noises. Seungmin continues.

“One member will put on a blindfold and sit in front of the cameras, and another member will be chosen to use this microphone, which distorts your voice, to give the member in front of the camera a compliment – but not as themselves, but a compliment that someone else would make.”

Oohs and aahs.

“So if it was my turn to sit there, and Jisung’s to do the compliment, and his task was to pretend to be Minho complimenting me, he would probably just go ‘good dog’.”

Jisung and everyone else laughs, and Seungmin smiles at Minho’s offended noise. And Changbin thinks this is a safe game.

Except it’s not. Of course, it isn’t.

It’s all fun and games. They have a good time, make some jokes that will surely have to be cut out, especially when it’s Jisung’s turn and Jeongin makes an obscene sound instead of a compliment Minho would make, but there’s also lots of squabbling that he knows Stay will love. But then it’s Hyunjin’s turn.

Changbin watches him sit, slide the blindfold over his silky hair, a motion that would make Changbin dizzy on a normal day. But then Felix gets shown which member he’s meant to imitate, and it’s Changbin.

“Yaaah, Hyunjin-aaah,” Yongbok scream-whispers into the microphone, to the great amusement of everyone else. “When will you finally stop playing hard to get and be my boyfriend, Hyunjin-ah? You’re so beautiful! You’re an angel! You’re the most exquisite being God has ever created …”

Jisung slaps Yongbok’s arm and Yongbok breaks out into a slew of giggles.

Everyone’s laughing. Hyunjin’s ears are bright red. Changbin feels like he’s about to cry.

He’s always been pathetic, huh, he realises. He never cared if he looked a little silly, especially because Hyunjin loved it. But now, hearing Yongbok make a joke of it, seeing everyone else cackle and throw him looks, Changbin realises he’s been making a fucking fool out of himself. His eyes burn hotter than his cheeks do. He wants to fucking die.

“Ah,” Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly. Oddly enough, he doesn’t sound like he finds it funny either. “Changbin-hyung.”

Not a question, no surprise when everyone cheers and tells him he’s right.

Hyunjin removes the blindfold with a crooked smile, and when he turns, his eyes immediately fall on Changbin. His smile falls slightly. He gets up and walks back over to them and this time, Changbin’s side is exposed, so he slots himself right in. He slings an arm around his shoulders and Changbin gets a whiff of his shampoo and Changbin …

Changbin shrugs Hyunjin’s arm off his shoulders and steps away from him in one quick motion, and everyone falls silent. Changbin can’t bear to look at Hyunjin, but based on Yongbok’s expression, Hyunjin must be upset. Changbin swallows the guilt, lets it get swallowed up by the pool of resentment bubbling inside of him. Serves him right.

Minho puts them back on track quickly, steps forward to take his place, and everyone starts babbling, recovering quickly, practised, bouncing back to their camera personas, but Changbin tunes out. Yongbok’s distorted voice keeps repeating the words over and over again in his head until Changbin feels like nothing but a cheap distortion of himself.

The last game, or rather, the last thing they film, because the segment where they have lunch mercifully was filmed when they were actually having lunch today instead of at 4pm, is a dance challenge, but with a twist. They have to spontaneously dance to whatever songs come on, their own choreographies from over the years, but with another member and a balloon lodged between the two of them. And Changbin prays, tries to catch Chan’s eyes, or Jeongin’s, but the way they’re standing, they already paired up, and the only other person left on their team is …

“Hyung, we’ll kill it,” Hyunjin chirps as he walks over to him, balloon in hand. “Remember when we did this last time, and you turned to me. Our height difference was actually helpful. I think we’ve got this one in the bag.”

Hyunjin is avoiding his eyes, chattering on, an anxious smile on his lips, and Changbin just hums. Any energy he might have had to fight the tightness in his chest is slowly draining out of him.

Hyunjin places the balloon against his own chest, steps forward and, once it’s securely held up between their bodies, drapes his arms over Changbin’s shoulders. From this position, Changbin doesn’t have a choice but look at Hyunjin.

His heart fucking aches when he does. He’s pretty, as always. No, gorgeous. Subtle make-up, hair purposely fluffy and messy, of course, but what really gets Changbin every time are his eyes. They’re big, warm, they feel like home. Especially when they’re pulling into little crescents when he smiles. Like he is right now. Smiling at him with more warmth than Changbin has felt in such a long time.

“Hi hyung,” he hums, a teasing lilt to his voice. Changbin swallows down the urge to glare at him. “Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?”

Changbin swears his eye nearly starts twitching. Hyunjin’s breath puffs against his face.

“Ha,” he huffs out, but it lacks all humour. “Very funny, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin doesn’t seem to get the memo. But then S-Class blasts through the shitty little speakers the staff brought and Changbin’s body automatically responds with the dance, and so does Hyunjin’s.

But he’s grateful that, as he goes through the motions, he has an excuse to stare at the stupid blue balloon between them. Though the song ends before long, Jisung and Seungmin unsurprisingly already eliminated.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin mumbles, and Changbin makes the mistake of looking up. Hyunjin’s face is so close, Changbin can make out each individual eyelash framing his eyes.

The notes of Silent Cry slice through the room and Changbin momentarily forgets to be mad as he tries to remember the choreography – and promptly all thoughts leave his mind when Hyunjin swivels his hips and brushes his thigh against Changbin’s and Changbin swears he did it on purpose. When he looks up and meets Hyunjin’s eyes, Hyunjin is already staring at him.

Their balloon nearly drops with how fast Changbin tries to put distance between them. He tries to think of something unsexy, grandmas and dogshit, you and Hyunjin making out and probably doing a lot more than just grinding on each other, but that does shockingly little. Quite the opposite.

Thankfully, the song ends, but because nobody was eliminated, staff plays the next one right after. Maniac, now, and if Changbin’s heart didn’t feel like it was about to shatter and his dick didn’t feel like it was about to chub up embarrassingly fast, he would’ve laughed at how stupid it looked, everyone trying to do a half-assed twirl with the balloon between them. Somehow, he and Hyunjin make it, though, a little twirl, then hand to forehead. Hyunjin’s intense stare catches on Changbin’s, and he winks, lets his tongue slide over his bottom lip. Changbin almost moans.

The song ends, the game is over, everyone else is slowly peeling apart, but Hyunjin isn’t going anywhere. His arms fall back over Changbin’s shoulders, he tips his head to the side and stares at Changbin, eyes dipping down to his lips so quickly, Changbin thinks he might have made it up. And then Changbin feels his fingers at the nape of his neck, scratching up his scalp, and something in Changbin’s stomach turns.

He steps back so abruptly, Hyunjin’s arms and the balloon fall to the ground. The balloon pops, making everyone jump and stare over at them, but Changbin is beyond caring.

“We’re done, right?” he asks the staff, and stares them down until they nod apprehensively. He doesn’t know how manic he looks, he needs to get the fuck out of here.

He makes it out of the main room, back into the hallway that leads to their haphazardly thrown together dressing room, but he doesn’t get far before he hears steps behind him.

“Changbin,” Hyunjin’s voice echoes through the room and Changbin stops as if rooted to the spot, for one second, before he turns around and stalks towards Hyunjin, who stares at him.

“What the fuck?!”

It’s the only thing Changbin manages to say, his mind a mess, the resentment threatening to bubble up and over.

“Why the fuck would you … what the fuck was that?!”

It’s barely more coherent, so it’s no wonder Hyunjin just stares at him, mouth agape, eyes wide. Not understanding.

“Why were you … I wasn’t flirting with you?!” Changbin yells, “why were you … that’s not … why the fuck would you do this now?!”

Hyunjin shakes his head, takes another few steps toward Changbin, his arms stretched in front of him in an expression of utter disbelief.

“What?! I … I don’t get! I thought you wanted everything to go back to the way it was!? I was just trying to do what seemed to make you most comfortable!” Hyunjin yells, and Changbin shudders with frustration.

“Now you’re just being fucking cruel, Hyunjin,” he hisses, and Hyunjin’s big eyes turn narrow.

In two steps, Hyunjin is right in front of him, staring at him from where he’s towering over Changbin.

“Cruel? I’m being cruel? You’ve been flirting with me for years, off camera, on camera, and you waved it off every single time, and now I’m asking you to stop with the games and put your money where your mouth is before it’s too late, and I’m being cruel?” Before it’s too late?

Hyunjin takes a step forward, invades Changbin’s space and Changbin stumbles backwards into the wall with a thud.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s not cool,” he manages to hiss out, but Hyunjin just shakes his head. His eyes are glued to Changbin’s lips.

“If you would just let me explain …,” he mumbles, and then Hyunjin is kissing him.

Kissing Hwang Hyunjin is everything Changbin ever thought it would be and so much more. He’s overwhelming, crowding him against the wall, his hand strong where it’s resting against the nape of his neck. He also smells incredible, his pomegranate chapstick smearing against Changbin’s lips in a kiss that is equal parts elegance and raw, desperate want.

Hyunjin presses Changbin into the wall harder, towering over him, and Changbin moans, his hands back on Hyunjin’s waist, trying to pull him closer, kiss him deeper, get more, and Hyunjin sighs into the kiss, links his fingers with Changbin’s and presses it over his chest and …

Reality catches up to Changbin all at once and his eyes shoot open and he pushes Hyunjin away so hard, Hyunjin nearly slams into the wall opposite.

“Don’t … What?!” he gasps out, wipes his mouth with the back of his mind, staring at Hyunjin. He’s so fucking gorgeous like this, all flushed and wide-eyed and– 

Oh fuck.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?!” Changbin yells, before he can think better of it. Hyunjin stumbles further back, but he opens his mouth. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?! That I don’t know you and Y/N are seeing each other?!”

“No, Binnie, …” Hyunjin tries to say but Changbin can’t … He can’t believe Hyunjin would do this.

Hyunjin raises his hands, eyes big and entreating, and tries to take a step towards him, but Changbin stumbles backwards. It’s no longer resentment he feels, now it’s just … anger. Disgust.

“So what, are you cheating on her?! Are you trying to prove something? What the fuck?!”

“Changbin,” Hyunjin says again, but Changbin just shakes his head. Slowly, he starts walking backwards, away from Hyunjin, because he doesn’t trust himself right now.

“She deserves better than that, Hyunjin. And I deserve better, too, than to be used like this. You can find someone else to fuck with.”

“I swear, Binnie, please …”

“Don’t get fucking near me, Hyunjin. I don’t want to see your face any more,” Changbin spits, and the venom of his words feel like daggers in his own chest.

He turns, walks down the hallway as fast as he can. This time, there are no footsteps following him.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the process of undressing, of filing into the cars, without crying.

Changbin barely looks at Hyunjin, the handful of glances nearly enough to make him break down, right there, in the middle of some random shoot location. Hyunjin looks about three seconds away from crying, but he won’t stop staring at Changbin. Changbin can feel his eyes, boring into the back of his head, like he’s taunting him. He can’t get the taste of him, the feeling of him so close, out of his goddamn head.

He gets in the car first and when the others don’t join, he watches through the tinted windows as Chan mumbles something to Hyunjin and Jisung, who nod, throw weary glances at the car, before walking over to the other car.

Chan turns and makes for the car Changbin’s in, climbs in, and closes the door behind him.

“Just us today,” he says to the driver, who nods and pulls away.

Changbin doesn’t look at Chan during the drive. For an hour, he sits next to him, his chest burning with unshed tears, his fists balled at his side, his brain running amok, white noise and pain.

Somehow they make it to the dorm.

Chan says goodbye to the driver, follows Changbin into the elevator, up to their floor, down the hall. He waits patiently until Changbin has punched in the code, until the door has fallen shut behind them, and they’ve toed off their shoes. He drops his backpack by the door, follows Changbin into his room, where Changbin drops his own, shrugs his jacket off.

When he turns around, Chan folds him into a hug and Changbin breaks down.

White noise. Static. His chest like a balled fist.

“H-he kissed m-me,” he hiccups, a string of drool dripping onto Chan’s shirt. Chan hums, rubs his hands over Changbin’s back soothingly. “H-he f-fucking k-kissed me, after a-all this f-fucking time, Channie.”

Chan’s arms tighten around him, and more sobs tear out of Changbin.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry. I love him.”

He sobs again, so hard his legs nearly give out.

Chan shushes him quietly. “I know, Binnie, I know.”

Changbin can’t even pull back, he only clings onto Chan tighter.

“H-how the fuck do y-you know,” he wails, “why are you s-so fine with th-this.”

It’s overwhelming. And it’s getting worse, the idea of Chan knowing makes Changbin wonder who else knows. Who else has been witnessing this whole train wreck knowing more than Changbin does.

His chest tightens until his sobs turn into gasps for air and Chan somehow drags him over to his bed, guides him to sit, all without ever taking his arms from where they’re protectively, soothingly wrapped around Changbin’s body.

“It’s okay, Binnie, it’s okay to love him,” he murmurs, trying to be calm, but Changbin only cries harder. He sobs, spit and tears and snot staining Chan’s shirt.

“It’s not o-okay,” Changbin somehow manages to whimper out, “b-because I l-love her, too. I love him and I love her. I love them both.” Chan’s hands freeze momentarily, before they resume their calm movements over Changbin’s shoulders and his back.

It’s like a dam has broken and Changbin can’t stop spilling his fucking guts.

“And neither of them love me,” he wails, forces the words out between sobs and hiccups. “They love each other. And they’re beautiful together, Channie, they’re so beautiful. And I thought I would be f-fine w-watching because how can I be with either of them when I love the o-other, too, b-but it’s s-so hard, hyung, it’s so f-fucking hard.”

Somewhere along the way he has started hyperventilating again, Changbin realises, because Chan is now rocking him back and forth.

“A-and n-now … he k-kissed me?! A-and sh-she kissed me the o-other … day and … we hooked up, too, Channie, right before her d-date with H-hyunjin and I don’t even know h-how that happened but afterwards it was a-awful and then I s-saw them and now Hyunjin k-kissed me?!”

Chan rocks him hard, tries to shush him, but Changbin is on a roll now.

“Like, how could he ch-cheat on her, right?! Hyunjin, of all … of all f-fucking people. And on h-her?! H-how?! How could he th-throw a chance with her away like that, when it’s a-all I’ve e-ever wanted. How f-fucking d-dare he?! And wh-why the fuck would he use m-me to do it?! There are other p-people, so many people, h-hotter people, probably lining up to kiss Hwang fucking Hyunjin. Why d-did he have to drag m-me into this?! It’s s-so c-cruel.”

“Binnie,” Chan mumbles, but Changbin shakes his head. “Binnie, don’t talk like that.”

Changbin scoffs. A wave of self-hatred washes over him, so strong it nearly blinds him.

“W-why?! Isn’t that what the problem is?! That I’m s-so f-fucking unlovable that w-who I thought were my b-best friends are just … u-using me to play some s-stupid games with each other?! Like I’m just some t-toy. B-because Changbin won’t complain.”

Chan pulls Changbin from his chest so fast Changbin can’t even cover his face, his stupid sweaty, red, face, but Chan doesn’t seem to care. He shakes him. Gently, but Chan shakes him.

“Not another word, Bin,” Chan warns, gives Changbin one of his dad looks, and it’s so intimidating that Changbin actually doesn’t dare say anything else. “I don’t know why they would do what they did, but I’m sure it wasn’t because of that.”

Changbin sniffles.

“Th-then, w-why?”

Chan sighs.

“I don’t know, but it’s not because you don’t mean anything to them. If anything, I think it might be the opposite.”

The thought of that hurts more than all the anger that came before it. Changbin starts sobbing again, and Chan pulls him back into his chest.

“It’s okay, Bin. We’ll figure it out, okay? You’ll figure it out.”

Changbin doesn’t believe him then.

But Chan stays, holds him until the worst of Changbin’s sobs have subsided, waves away his hoarse apology for crying and snotting all over his shirt. Chan brings him water and painkillers and tucks him into bed so gently it would’ve made Changbin start crying all over again, if his body hadn’t utterly exhausted itself. Chan leaves and exhaustion drags Changbin into a deep, dreamless sleep, even though it’s only 8pm.

He sleeps for 14 hours and when he stumbles out of his room the next day, Chan tells him that Hyunjin and Jeongin will be switching rooms for a while.

When Changbin asks what he told them, Chan shrugs, says he just told them Changbin and Hyunjin had a fight. Most of them knew, apparently, about you and Hyunjin dating, about Changbin and his unresolved feelings about the matter, but nobody had dared push the question. On account of “Changbin acting like a ticking time bomb”, according to Chan, which makes Changbin crumple in on himself with more self-loathing.

Nonetheless, Changbin is more grateful than he can even describe. He mumbles as much to Chan, gives Jeongin a half-mumbled thank you as well, but Chan just pats him on the back.

“Told you we’d figure it out, yeah?”

And Changbin nods; realises he should’ve talked to Chan a long, long time ago.

Chan arranges for Changbin to take a couple days off, days which Changbin spends … heartbroken. Wallowing. Crying and eating ice cream, the whole nine yards. Except it’s even worse, because he didn’t just get his heart broken by one person, but two. And along the way he also lost not one of his best friends, but both.

There’s a you-shaped hole in his soul. Every now and again, he picks up his phone, and he sees your chat pinned to the top of his KakaoTalk and the last sticker you sent, and he wishes he could message you. He wishes he could open your chat and go ‘today sucked, wyd?’ like he used to and see your little message bubble pop up immediately, always ready with some words that somehow always made him feel better, even if it was just the stupidest little joke.

And he wishes that in the mornings, he didn’t hear Jeongin’s laugh echoing through the dorm from Jisung and Hyunjin’s bathroom. He wishes Hyunjin were here and everything was normal. He wishes he could knock on Hyunjin’s door like he always did when he had a hard day. Hyunjin always knew, somehow, only had to take one look at Changbin to know. Because on those days, there was only softness, no edge to his pretend words of resistance when Changbin asked if he could come in. He would let Changbin come into the sanctuary that is Hyunjin’s room, like a parallel world, a calm refuge, always smelling slightly of the dried roses hanging from his bedpost, the paint that’s always drying on some canvas or another.

But he has nothing now. He’s in his room, alone, in the empty dorm, while everyone else goes on with their life. And he keeps wondering if somewhere along the way he went wrong.

He didn’t think he did. His love for you and Hyunjin? There was never a question of it ever stopping. And the existence of two loves, his two loves, because they were always going to be a part of him, stitched into the fabric of his heart by fate itself, meant he could never have either. Because both of you deserved more than that. It’s what he always came back to. That part he was sure of. This was always the way it was meant to play out. Right?

A few days, he has lost count in his desolation, Changbin wakes up from a nap to laughter and chatter in the kitchen. One glance at his phone tells him it’s 8pm. He must’ve slept for an hour and a half somehow, though he doesn’t remember even falling asleep.

Groggily, he peels himself out of bed, throws a look in the mirror and runs a hand through his hair before he makes his way out of his room.

Though what he sees when he rounds the corner to the kitchen, makes him freeze in his tracks.

Everyone’s here. Jeongin, Seungmin and Yongbok are unloading containers and containers of takeaway food from countless white bags, Minho and Jisung are bickering and giggling while setting the table, and Chan is talking to …

You and Hyunjin, next to each other, laughing at something Chan said, fiddling with something in a big plastic container, trying to get it out of a brown paper bag …

When your eyes meet Changbin’s, you freeze. Chan whirls around, and Hyunjin sees him last, his face immediately falling as his eyes race up and down Changbin’s sleep-mussed form with badly contained worry.

“Binnie!” Chan exclaims and everyone else turns around. Changbin wants to disappear.

“Wh-what are you all doing here?” he somehow manages to rasp out, and Chan walks up to him.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday, Bin, do you think we would let you wallow alone on your birthday?”

Oh.

He didn’t realise … Was it really … Wait, did he forget his own birthday?!

Chan seems to see the turmoil in his eyes, because he throws an arm around Changbin’s shoulder and leads him back down the hallway, back to his room.

“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and we’ll be right here, with food on the table, when you’re done, yeah? When’s the last time you had a proper–”

“Why are they here?”

It breaks out of him, interrupts Chan mid-sentence, but Chan doesn’t let it phase him.

“It’s your birthday, they wanted to celebrate it with you. Plus, they wanted to talk to you …”

Changbin panics, opens his mouth to say something, anything, to tell Chan that he isn’t ready, that he can’t face them, especially not together, but Chan shushes him.

“I think you should hear them out. Promise me you’ll hear them out?”

Changbin stares at Chan. He doesn’t know what they could possibly say that wouldn’t end with Changbin’s heart shattered on the floor of his room all over again, but Chan looks so convinced, so optimistic, so determined, that Changbin nods.

“Okay, now off to the shower with you. I’ll tidy up in here a bit, okay? Change your sheets, let some air in.”

Changbin nods again, lets Chan steer him to his drawers to get him a change of clothes, and then into the bathroom. And when he stumbles out of the steam ten minutes later, Chan is sitting on his clean, freshly made bed, scrolling through his phone.

“There you go, much better!” Chan exclaims with one of his patented smiles, and jumps up. “Now let’s get some food before it gets cold, and they kill us because they have to wait any longer.”

Everyone’s already crowded around the big dinner table, cheers erupting when Changbin and Chan come back. Jeongin mumbles a “finally!” and Changbin has no time to think before he’s steered into one of the empty seats, Seungmin to his left, Chan sitting down to his right.

When he looks up, he meets Jisung’s eyes, who smiles brightly at him, playing with Minho’s hand in his lap.

“Happy birthday, hyung! We missed you in the studio today,” he chirps, easily, dripping with sincerity, and Changbin’s heart convulses almost painfully. He had barely thought of the group these last few days, too focused was he on his broken heart. He feels almost bad.

“None of that,” Minho chides, as if he read Changbin’s mind. Though Changbin assumes it was written all over his face anyway. Clearly, his pokerface is lacking these days. “You needed the rest.”

Jisung next to him nods, and Changbin gives them both what he hopes is a genuine smile. But it’s hard. As Chan loads up his plate, he finally dares to let his eyes stray down the table where you and Hyunjin are, sat next to each other.

To his relief, neither of you are looking at him. You’re talking to Jeongin about something, Hyunjin is busy trying to get a drink from the kitchen island without having to get up, before he gives up and does, grabbing two diet cokes, placing one in front of you automatically. The gesture is so domestic it makes Changbin feel sick with jealousy. He can’t do this. He can’t watch this. What the fuck was he thinking?!

But then Hyunjin’s eyes meet his and Hyunjin smiles. It’s small, sheepish, and impossibly soft, big eyes round, mouthing a quiet “hi” and Changbin’s chest erupts into barbed wire butterflies. He wonders how long it will take for him to get over this. He wonders if he ever will.

“Come on, Bin, eat up,” Chan exclaims, rips Changbin’s attention away from Hyunjin and to his plate, filled to the brim with all his favourite foods and when he looks up, Seungmin is smiling at him.

“Eat, hyung, we had to go to like five different places to get all of this, so you better enjoy it,” he teases, and Changbin huffs out a laugh, but digs in.

And really, he didn’t eat very well the last few days, his appetite having all but disappeared, swallowed up by the heartbreak until there was nothing left. So he lived on leftovers left by the others, off cup ramen and convenience store kimbap. And he didn’t care, but now, with all of this in front of him, he realises he’s starving.

So he eats. Lets himself be dragged into different conversations, lets Jisung whine about how fast his rap is in the song they were recording, listens to him and Seungmin discuss singing techniques, to Chan talk about this new machine his personal trainer made him use the other day.

Every now and again, he steals glances at you and Hyunjin, and he doesn’t know if you’re doing it to be kind to him, but there’s no lovey-dovey-ness between you; no whispering, no touching, no stolen glances. Changbin is grateful, but he’s also confused.

But before long, everyone’s done eating and you and Hyunjin disappear into the kitchen only to reappear side by side, holding a giant cake. Everyone starts singing the most disjointed rendition of happy birthday which should be criminal considered they’re all singers, but Changbin doesn’t care. Tears prick in his eyes before the song is even over.

The cake is pink. Impeccably frosted. And it’s dwaekki-themed. Ears, little pigtail and face and all. On the bottom it says, “Happy birthday, Changbin!” and there are at least 10 candles, burning, flickering precariously with every step you take.

You and Hyunjin carry it in together, smiling at him, placing the cake in front of him on the table just when the song ends and Changbin tries his best not to cry. Before you pull away, he can feel your hand on brush against his neck, rubbing your thumb over his skin, then Hyunjin’s stronger one, squeezing his shoulder. They’re small touches, barely anything, but his whole body erupts into goosebumps.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell. Someone hands him the knife, tells him to blow out the candles and make a wish, and he does, wishes that one day he will be able to have his friends back.

They wanted to talk to you.

Changbin tries not to freak out about the prospect of it, but when everyone’s had cake, when Minho and Jisung and Chan are done tidying up the kitchen, and everyone slowly starts to make to leave except for you and Hyunjin, it all becomes a little too real.

“Bin?”

You say his name so sweetly, so quietly.

He turns and is met with you and Hyunjin, who’s hovering behind you, gnawing at his lips nervously.

“C-can we talk?” you ask.

Changbin doesn’t respond. He has the urge to say yes, because you clearly want to. He can see the worry and the stress in your tired eyes, wants to do anything he can to alleviate it, but … he doesn’t know if he can do this. He feels like he’s made of glass and one wrong move will shatter him all over the floor.

“Please, hyung,” Hyunjin mumbles, opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but Jisung screeching in the hallway, makes him falter. “Just, please?”

So Changbin nods. He tries to regulate his breathing as everyone files out with little waves and hugs and more “happy birthdays”, and even manages to hold it together when Chan hugs him and mumbles “you can call me if anything happens, okay?”, only when the door falls shut behind them, and he’s left alone with you, he starts panicking.

He turns around and finds you exactly where you were before, aimlessly fiddling with one of the containers of leftovers, Hyunjin leaning against the kitchen island, running his hand through his hair for the nth time, his foot tapping the floor nervously.

Changbin can’t stand it any longer.

“I … I can’t be your friend. I’m sorry. I really tried, but I-I can’t,” he forces out, “or maybe I can, one day, but not right now. It hurts too much. You hurt me a lot. I need time.”

You straighten up, a look on your face like you’ve been slapped.

Hyunjin winces, takes a step towards him.

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” he starts, and Changbin’s brows furrow, but Hyunjin just takes another step towards him, “I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have just kissed you.”

Changbin freezes, whips his head over to you, but you don’t seem surprised. Quite the opposite. Hyunjin is right in front of him now, his breath puffing against his face, just like it did a few days ago, right before …

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he says, his determined gaze racing all over Changbin’s face, “and I should’ve explained, but it was all so … I was so confused and so unsure because I couldn’t believe you’d really want me …”

“What?!”

His disbelief is genuine. Hyunjin blushes, and nods.

“Y/Nie kept telling me, but I just couldn’t believe it? I thought you were just teasing me all these years. Ironic, because the one person I wanted, didn’t want me back. Because it was always so obvious to me that you wanted her …”

Changbin’s head spins and for a second, he thinks he might pass out. You seem to be able to sense it. You mumble, Hyunjin’s name, who blinks, then takes a quick step back. Changbin feels like he can breathe again.

“Hey, why don’t we take this to your room, Bin?” you say gently, give Hyunjin a look. Hyunjin nods, steps back another few steps, and lets you take Changbin’s hand and drag him back to his room.

You lead him to his bed, make him sit down, Hyunjin immediately taking the spot next to him, just close enough, so his knee rests against the side of Changbin’s thigh when he crosses his long graceful legs underneath him. There’s more space between them now, which Changbin is grateful for, because even just that touch when it’s just the three of you here in his room, makes him a little dizzy.

You don’t sit down, instead you come to stand in front of him. Changbin blinks up at you. He feels like he’s staring straight at the sun.

“We’re sorry, Binnie,” you announce with a deep sigh, giving Changbin a look that melts his heart, “we’re sorry we didn’t talk to you sooner. Everything was so messy, and it took us ages to figure it out between ourselves and … and we didn’t know how much you were hurting, how much we were hurting you. We’re sorry.”

Hyunjin makes a soft sound of agreement next to him.

“The thing is …” you take a deep breath, ”both Hyune and I … we both went into our date with each other trying to get over you.”

Changbin’s whole world tilts on its axis.

“I kinda … I loved you for so long, and I figured you’d never want me back, I honestly always thought you were in love with Hyunjin, ever since you told me about him, but … I don’t know, it’s been like, what 7 years, and you never made a move and when Hyune and I met, there was so much chemistry and I thought maybe, just maybe, I should try, you know? And I didn’t know if it would last or anything, but I was kinda desperate because I really needed to get over you.”

You flush, fidget awkwardly where you stand.

“But then … I don’t know, I fucked up, I kissed you, and we had sex and afterwards it was so obvious how much you regretted it, and it hurt so fucking bad to see, so when Hyunjin kissed me in the museum and my heart nearly beat out of my chest, I, uh, I was so relieved. Like, maybe there was a chance, maybe I could get over you. But I couldn’t … of course not.”

Hyunjin’s hand splays over Changbin’s thigh, and Changbin shivers.

“And neither could I …” he murmurs, voice thick like honey in Changbin’s ears. “I really tried … and I was so confused that on Y/N and my second date, I just kind of … freaked out. Told her I heard you. Told her that I was sorry but also that I wasn’t, because it … it turned me on so bad.”

He breathes out the last words, and Changbin nearly chokes on his spit.

“But also that I was really jealous and that I was pretty sure I was in love with you but also liked her and … well, long story short, we realised in a, uhh, very explicit way, that we were both in the same boat, but also really liked each other … But it almost felt like … something was missing. You were missing.”

Hyunjin moves a little closer, lets his hand trace over Changbin’s arm, down to his wrist, before linking his hands in his.

“And we wanted to talk to you, but then you were so cold to me when we were filming that last SKZ code episode, and I kinda just … lost my head. I got so scared. And I followed you because I wanted to tell you all of this, but you were so angry, and it was so hot, and you kissed me back so hard it knocked any coherent thought out of me and I messed it all up. Chan told me as much, when he came to the other dorm. Yelled at me so loud in front of the others …”

Hyunjin shivers, and you take the break in his rant to sit down on Changbin’s other side.

“When Hyunjin told Chan we wanted to talk to you, he had this big, long dad talk with us, about our feelings and our intentions,” you mumble, and shiver. “He basically gave us the shovel talk, it was scary.”

Hyunjin giggles quietly.

“But the long and short of it is,” you take a deep breath, but it’s shaky. Hyunjin’s hand leaves Changbin’s only for long enough to reach over his lap and squeeze yours, before returning to lace into Changbin’s again. “We wanted to ask you … if there was any possible way you might have feelings for us. Because we do … have, like, a lot of feelings … for you.”

Changbin’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. He wants to pinch himself, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, but Hyunjin’s warm presence, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand, your leg jumping nervously, it all feels too real to be a dream.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you breathe out with an awkward chuckle, “just … you just need to tell us. We didn’t really think that far because we’re both romantics and also both kinda delusional,” you laugh again, though Changbin can hear the sadness, “That’s something we learned about each other in the last weeks. But we’ll figure something out. If you just love Hyune, it’s okay, I … I’m not mad, I promise. At least I’ll know. I just can’t pine over you any longer.”

Changbin’s head whips up so fast he nearly pulls something.

“Is that what you think?”

You shrug, avoid his eyes.

“It seemed pretty obvious,” you mumble, “with how you talked about him from day one. How much you regretted sleeping with me, how you kissed him back …”

You look so devastated, it makes Changbin’s chest ache.

He shakes his head. He reaches for you, his hand as shaky as the day you kissed him, cupping your face. His whole body is thrumming with something he can’t name.

“I … wow, is this real?!” he huffs out, with a disbelieving laugh, “Angel, I’ve been in love with you for years …”

Hyunjin hums approvingly, and Changbin’s face snaps over. Hyunjin is right there, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You …” Changbin mumbles, and Hyunjin’s eyes suddenly widen, almost in fear, “Do you think I would flirt with you for so many years without meaning any of it?! Are you crazy?”

Hyunjin pouts, and Changbin wants to kiss it off him. The thought that he might have wanted him to all along, makes him feel insane.

“Well, you never shut up about her! It was always ‘Y/N this, Y/N that’ and ‘Ah, no, Changbin isn’t coming home until later, he’s at Y/N’s’. At some point, I figured the two of you were together and just didn’t tell anyone.”

Changbin blushes hard, but before he can overthink it, he decides to be brave. He frees his hand from Hyunjin’s reaches up, and pulls Hyunjin into a kiss. Hyunjin squeals into his lips, before he relaxes, presses himself closer, until half his leg is in Changbin’s lap and his hand is ghosting up his back. And then he pulls back, blinks his eyes open and looks past Changbin, and Changbin turns and meets your eyes. Your pupils are blown, and despite all of his words, there’s something so uncertain in your face.

“Come here,” Changbin whispers, and you do. Effortlessly, easily, shimmy forward until he can wrap his arm around your waist and press his lips to yours, and he wonders once more if he’s dreaming, but when Hyunjin’s lips find his neck, your fingers travel over his legs until they find Hyunjin’s …

When Changbin pulls back, he’s dizzy. Hyunjin is all but folded around him, nuzzling his face into Changbin’s neck, and you’re staring at him so intently and Changbin has a hard time figuring out what’s right and wrong.

Hyunjin shifts and Changbin feels him half hard in his pants, and he panics a little bit.

“C-can we … can we just … can we just hang out tonight? Watch something or cuddle, or I don’t know,” he asks, shakily, squeezes his eyes closed, “this is … this is a lot, I think I need a minute.”

Hyunjin pulls back, soothes his hand over Changbin’s back and you nod.

It’s only when the light is off later, the three of you tangled into each other in Changbin’s double bed, that’s just about big enough to hold you all, with you curled up against his chest and Hyunjin’s body plastered against his back, that Hyunjin dares bring it up again.

“This feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispers into the darkness, and Changbin’s heart skips a beat. You giggle and hum out a sleepy yes against his chest, and Changbin can’t even find the words. It does.

It’s scary, so, so scary and new, but it feels right in a way that only his soul can understand.

And his soul? Well, it seems that overnight, it found its way, back to where it belongs – in the spot right next to his beating, aching heart, beating and, maybe, just maybe, if last night wasn’t a dream, no longer aching for you.

And it wasn’t a dream, Changbin notes, with a relief that makes his toes curl. Because before he even opens his eyes he can feel Hyunjin’s hair tickling his nose, your soft arm thrown over his waist, your feet tangled with his, and the sun shining in through the crack in the curtains, and he feels like he’s finally come home.

You stir against his back, arch into him as you stretch, your fingers absentmindedly slipping under his shirt, brushing against the skin of his lower stomach. You nuzzle back against him, press a soft kiss to his back, and he sighs. Gently, he covers your hand and with his, gives it a squeeze that makes you hum softly.

Hyunjin wakes then, too, huffing out a breath, the little pout on his angelic face pulling into a yawn, before he detaches himself from Changbin’s side enough to roll onto his back. Changbin watches as he stretches his arms above his head, cursing Hyunjin because he clearly knows how good he looks like this, the lean muscles in his biceps bulging, his shirt riding up enough to expose his toned stomach, the little trail of dark hair leading into his pants where …

Jesus christ. Changbin had seen Hyunjin naked before, plenty of times, and distantly, he knew Hyunjin wasn’t exactly on the small side, but right here, right now, morning wood impressively hard in just his thin cotton boxers? His cock is fucking massive. The mere thought of getting his hands on him makes Changbin’s own half-hard cock twitch in interest.

And you seem to have felt it, because you chuckle deviously and the hand that was trailing over his stomach dips lower.

Hyunjin blinks his eyes open at the sound of your giggle, a pretty little smile on his face as he faces Changbin, his eyes falling down to where your fingers are tracing the waistband of Changbin’s briefs and he hums.

“Good morning,” he rasps, scoots closer, lets one of his hands trail up Changbin’s arm, up over his shoulder, until he can trace Changbin’s cheek. He’s gentle with it, his eyes constantly on Changbin, watching every single one of his reactions with a loving diligence. But below his gentleness, simmering somewhere deep in his eyes, is a hunger than Changbin has never seen before. His cock is rock hard now, your teasing fingertips keeping him teetering on the brink of insanity.

“Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind …” Hyunjin breathes out, and Changbin huffs out in disbelief. He shakes his head and that’s all Hyunjin needs before he leans in to kiss him, morning breath and all. But Changbin doesn’t care. He’s in his bed, with the sun on his face, your body pressed against him and Hyunjin kissing him. He has never been better.

Your fingers dip underneath his waistband like a question.

“Is this okay?” you ask, your voice a breathless thing against the nape of his neck.

Changbin nods, whines a yes into Hyunjin’s lips, and then your hand wraps around his cock and he moans. Hyunjin sighs happily, pulls back only enough to murmur a pleased little “so loud” against his lips, before he presses closer and kisses him even harder.

It’s mind-blowing how good your simple touches feel, nothing grand, only your bodies pressed together, your hand sliding up and down his cock, Hyunjin’s tongue licking against his.

When Changbin’s hips stutter, Hyunjin makes a noise into his mouth and pulls back. Changbin nearly comes just from the vision of him, eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, his sinfully plump lips bitten, chest rising and falling harshly. He looks like some kind of greek god of sex, even more so when he looks past him, over his shoulder, and then pushes Changbin until he’s all the way on his back.

When Hyunjin grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss right in front of Changbin, Changbin thinks he might actually still be dreaming because holy shit. You’re greedy, pull Hyunjin in with a hand in his hair and Hyunjin matches you effortlessly, parts his lips, lets you lick into his mouth before he returns the favour, kisses you so filthily, Changbin’s belly does a swoop and his cock twitches pathetically in your hand, that’s still pumping, albeit erratically, too distracted by Hyunjin’s assault on your mouth.

But before long, Hyunjin pulls back and turns his hungry eyes back on Changbin, keeps him pinned to the mattress with them as he shoves the covers aside and slithers down his body.

“Fuck, Hyune-aahhh.”

Changbin’s words are cut off when Hyunjin nudges his nose and open mouth against his clothed cock with a hum that travels all the way up Changbin’s spine. There’s an embarrassing wet spot where the head of his cock is leaking, and it’s only getting wetter by the minute.

"Let me make it up to you, hyungie," Hyunjin purrs.

“I’m not gonna … fuck me sideways,” he moans out when Hyunjin rips his briefs down and off his legs in one fell swoop.

“Some other time, gladly,” Hyunjin teases, and Changbin would’ve made a pathetic sound in the back of his throat if Hyunjin didn’t choose that exact moment to swallow his cock into his hot mouth.

He hollows his cheeks, hums, does a little flick with his tongue against the underside of Changbin’s cock and makes a whole show of rolling his eyes before he pulls off and grins up at Changbin.

“Your cock is so perfect, hyungie,” he teases, and Changbin tries to hide his burning, probably embarrassingly pink, face with a whine, only to awkwardly bump his nose into the side of your face. You giggle.

“What? Don’t like the dirty talk?” you hum, and Changbin gives you a mock glare, one that is horribly interrupted by his eyes rolling into the back of his head when Hyunjin sinks his cock back into his mouth.

“If I’d known … fuck, Hyunjin,” Changbin moans, his hand reaching down, tangling in Hyunjin’s hair, though feeling the bob of his head only makes him hurtle towards his orgasm faster, “if I’d known you had such a mouth on you …”

Hyunjin pulls off again, his eyes watery from the effort, and lets the head of Changbin’s cock rest against his plump bottom lip and smiles up at him. It’s an image that not even Changbin’s filthiest desires could’ve cooked up.

“Then what? You would’ve let me hit sooner?”

His tongue darts out and digs into Changbin’s slit, and Changbin curses. He’s going to come, and soon.

Your fingertips trail under his shirt, up the side of his chest, until they reach his nipple. Your touch makes electricity prickle through his veins, and then you turn his head towards you and your lips find his and Changbin loses any shred of sanity.

He comes with an arch of his back and a strangled moan that’s muffled by your lips, one hand buried in Hyunjin’s hair, the other holding on to your arm for dear life. Pleasure rushes through him so fast he thinks he might black out, his whole body shivering again and again, toes curling, until he has nothing left to give, and he collapses into the pillows, breathing heavily, one arm slung over his face.

Distantly, he feels Hyunjin pull off his cock, and he tries to slur out an apology, one Hyunjin promptly ignores.

“Did he just …” Hyunjin asks, fondness laced through every word.

“Did you just come from kissing me?” you ask with a giggle, but it’s so gentle, so fond, that the embarrassment burning Changbin’s ears can’t even harshen his post-orgasm glow.

Hyunjin giggles, then there’s shuffling. Hyunjin murmurs a quiet “come here, baby” and your warmth disappears from Changbin’s side with one more kiss to his forehead, and then the bed dips on his other. When Changbin lifts his arm and cracks one of his eyes open, he is greeted with the view of you and Hyunjin kissing again, though this time it’s different. A lot softer, more coordinated.

You’re straddling Hyunjin’s waist, one knee on each side of him, draped over his chest, one hand supporting yourself in the pillows next to Hyunjin’s head, the other cupping Hyunjin’s face like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever touched. Hyunjin’s hands on the other hand, are all over you – one smoothing under your shirt and over your belly and, if your gasp is anything to judge by, grabbing your tits, the other on the back of your legs, travelling up and under the boxer shorts you borrowed from Changbin. Changbin can’t see, but when you moan and arch into his hand, he assumes Hyunjin started playing with your pussy.

Changbin’s mouth waters just watching, but then you sit back enough to pull your shirt over your head and do the same to Hyunjin and suddenly, Changbin’s mouth is very, very dry. His cock twitches valiantly.

Skin. So much skin. Your plushness against Hyunjin’s lean, wiry muscles, his strong hands digging divots into your skin, one of them wrapped around your breast, playing with your nipples. Hyunjin is still hard, straining against his boxers, and when you grind forward, dragging your core against the base of his cock, Hyunjin moans, low and melodic and needy.

Changbin’s hard again. It must be some sort of record, but how could he not, with the two most perfect people he has ever seen, making out half naked after sucking soul of out him.

When you scramble off the bed to shuck off your (his, Changbin’s brain supplies unhelpfully) boxers and see him watching you, a smile so gorgeous yet so devious it gives him whiplash, pulls at your lips.

Hyunjin scrambles out of his boxers, too, and Changbin can’t help but stare when Hyunjin’s cock springs free and slaps heavily against his abdomen because fuck, that might be the most beautiful dick he’s ever seen in his life, long and straight, beading precum at the tip. And lord knows he has imagined having Hyunjin every which way, but the thought of him putting that inside him makes Changbin a little more than just dizzy.

Changbin gets distracted by Hyunjin reaching out, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and pulling him closer.

“Get over here,” Hyunjin rasps out, his eyes hooded, and Changbin doesn’t have to be told twice.

He leans in, captures Hyunjin’s lips in his, kisses him with everything he has because, oh god, he can just do this now. He can just kiss Hwang Hyunjin whenever he wants. And Hyunjin seems to like it, because he turns into putty underneath his hands, pliable and pretty, chasing Changbin’s touch until Changbin gives in, runs his palms over his stomach, down, wrapping his hand around his beautiful, heavy cock, and stroking him, swallowing his moans, until Changbin feels the bed dip and your leg against his again. Then he trails his hands up again, over his abs, until he can run his fingers over his pecs. When he brushes over his nipple, Hyunjin gasps, throws his head back.

“Binnie,” you murmur softly, and when he looks over, you sink down on Hyunjin’s cock, taking it all the way to the hilt with a choked moan, your fingernails digging into Hyunjin’s thighs and Changbin nearly comes on the spot. Hyunjin moans prettily, one of his hands finding your waist, eyebrows knitting together in an expression of pleasure-pain that is more gorgeous than anything Changbin has ever seen.

But when he looks over at you, you, with your hair wild, your back arched, goosebumps on your glistening skin as you throw your head back, circle your hips in a slow grind – Changbin is at a loss where to look because surely this cannot be real.

Hyunjin makes the decision for him, whines, demands his attention back by sinking his fingers into Changbin’s hair and yanking him down into his lips so hard pain zaps through Changbin’s scalp, only to be replaced by molten arousal when Hyunjin licks into his mouth like a man starved. And his moans only get louder when you start bouncing on him in earnest, getting up on your knees and letting yourself fall down on Hyunjin’s cock until your legs start shaking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hyunjin curses out, his hips bucking up to meet yours with every one of your bounces, and you mewl, falling forward and into Hyunjin’s chest weakly.

“C-can’t, legs h-hurt, p-please,” you whimper, voice so brittle and desperate it sends Changbin into a tailspin. He mashes his lips against yours and Hyunjin moans, plants his feet and starts fucking up into you, and the sound you make is outright obscene. Changbin’s patience snaps, and he reaches down, wraps one hand around himself. The relief of his touch makes him almost delirious.

You’re still kissing him, though it’s more teeth and spit than anything, and then you turn your head and Hyunjin catches you, cradles you against him and fucks up into you harder, until Changbin’s headboard is thudding against the wall in an erratic rhythm that Changbin knows all the neighbours can hear.

“C-close,” you mumble and Hyunjin whimpers into your mouth, turns, drags Changbin closer until his mouth is in the mix, too, and it’s filthy and messy and so entirely uncoordinated that it shouldn’t be hot, but, it is, because Changbin is swapping spit with the two loves of his life.

Somehow, he comes first, spills weakly over his fist as another desperate orgasm racks through him, renders him entirely boneless, watching as Hyunjin ruts into you until you come with a choked moan, muttering Hyunjin’s then Changbin’s name, and Hyunjin’s whole body arches when he follows you over the edge, burying himself in you to the hilt with a weak moan.

Then he collapses, and you along with him, cheek squished against his chest, fucked out and gorgeous, before you slowly let yourself slide off his chest, and into the space between them. You mewl weakly when Hyunjin’s cock slides out of you and his cum starts dripping out of you, a sight that makes stars dance in Changbin’s vision and his spent cock throb.

It’s a little gross. Sweat and cum and spit drying on skin, but neither you nor Hyunjin make any effort to move. And neither does Changbin. So the three of you just lie there, basking in the glory of it all, Hyunjin and your hands linked on his chest, Changbin wrapped around your back, drawing shapes onto Hyunjin’s abs.

“Are we … are we dating now?” you ask into the silence, sheepish, and Hyunjin cracks an eye open, before he turns on his side, presses a kiss to your nose that makes Changbin’s heart flutter.

“I’d be honoured to be your boyfriend,” he murmurs, and Changbin can see your smile mirrored in the one that takes over Hyunjin’s as he looks at you.

Then you turn around, enough to be able to stare up at Changbin.

“What about you? Wanna be my boyfriend, Binnie?”

“And mine!” Hyunjin chirps. You giggle.

“And Hyunjin’s?”

Changbin doesn’t even try to play coy. He smiles, big and uninhibited, so wide he knows his dimples are probably showing, but he doesn’t care.

“I’d love to be your boyfriend,” he says. He means it more than he has ever meant anything in his life. His heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

“And mine?” Hyunjin asks, fluttering his lashes at Changbin with a pretty little pout on his lips.

“And yours, silly,” Changbin laughs out and Hyunjin smiles, leans up to kiss Changbin, then you, watches as Changbin kisses you with a smile on his lips, before he settles back down, cuddles back up to you. Changbin yawns.

“We should shower …” he says, half-heartedly, but you huff, pull his arm closer around you.

“Just … a few more minutes,” you mumble, and Changbin can hear the sleep already tugging at your consciousness.

“Yeah, this is nice,” Hyunjin adds, scoots closer until his forehead is resting against yours on the pillow. His eyes are already closed.

And Changbin? Well, what is he going to do. He ignores the stickiness between his legs in favour of the soft body of his love in his arms, and when sleep tugs at his consciousness, beckoned by Hyunjin’s soft snores, he lets it overtake him. They can always shower later. They have all the time in the world now.

A year later, on his birthday, they’re all out together at a Korean BBQ place, one that Jisung and Minho go to so often that they’ve become friends with the owners, and always get a private room in the back where they can truly have privacy.

You and Hyunjin disappear after the meat is all eaten, and then you walk back in, moments later, side by side, holding a giant cake. Everyone sings happy birthday.

The cake has a picture of the three of you on it, because his birthday is now also partly your anniversary. You usually celebrate twice, though. Not like any of you need an excuse to be sappy and romantic on any given day. You may be the sappiest couple, or throuple, Changbin knows. He loves every second of it.

In the picture on the cake, Changbin is standing in between you two, Hyunjin’s arm slung around his shoulders, you folded into his side. You took it at Namsan Tower a couple of months ago, asked a stranger to take it in front of the famous hearts, giggling when you pulled down your masks and the stranger looked confused, like he was trying to figure out where he knew you from. It was a beautiful night. You ate ice cream and stole sticky sweet kisses in alleyways and behind trees and then went home and fucked each other’s brains out until Jisung was pounding on the wall separating his room from Hyunjin’s begging you to stop.

You place the cake down on the table in front of him as the song ends. Someone tells him to blow out the candles and make a wish. He blows them out and wishes this – you, Changbin and Hyunjin – will last forever.

Everyone cheers, you squeal, wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind. Hyunjin sits back down at his place to Changbin’s right and laces his fingers with his. He gives Changbin the biggest, fondest, smile, and leans in until he's cuddled into his side. Changbin’s heart melts.

You pepper sweet little kisses all over his cheek and over his neck.

“Happy birthday, Binnie,” you whisper, happiness evident in your voice. “I love you so much.”

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---

YOU WATCH ME BURN

pairing: felix × fem!reader

words: 2.1k

about: where felix counts every single red flag he has missed, looking at you through rose tinted glasses and he realizes: love has an expiration date

warnings: toxic relationships, manipulative behaviour, swearing, bruises, implications of cheating, mentions of alcohol abuse, exhaustion and overexertion, reader is a grade A asshole, allusions/mentions of hickies

a/n: a wild fucking ride fr

“ wake up and start a big fire in our one room apartment, but I'm too tired to have a pissing contest.”

Felix Lee — a bad liar with a savior complex. He’s more than that though. He’s in love with love, a staunch believer of fairy tales. He’s an idealist, a sentimental dreamer. He makes love look like an art form, looking at the world through rose tinted glass.

And you? A realist.

Turning corners at the last but one crossing of the junction, Felix decides: love has an expiration date. He falls in love easily and the fall-out is painful.

With each step towards, he is dreading being home. Maybe it’s you. Maybe it’s what he is yet to say. Maybe it’s all the expectations weighing his back from Chan, Jisung and Minho. But whatever it is, it’s fucking unfair.

Time ticks by painfully fast. His watch feels heavy on his wrist, it’s ticking in sync with his heartbeat, in sync with his steps, in sync with his derailing thoughts. And this synchronization is distressing.

And soon enough, he’s there — that one room apartment he’s been dreading. You on the sofa, cross legged, so unassuming, so fucking indifferent. Your eyes leave the TV to meet his, some rom-com continuing mindlessly, and you smile.

He does too, instinctually.

Your eyes are red-rimmed. Your cheeks tinted red. Have you been crying? His resolution all but crumbles.

Because despite who you are, despite his fragile ego, you are the tears of his crying.  You are the starlight in the evening, the smell of the rain. You’re spilt coffee and his teenage spirit — his twin flame. And Felix is a hopeless fucking romantic.

But he’s tired. He’s far too exhausted. And he needs to let go of every emotion he has left unexpressed.

 “W-we need to talk.”

Felix curses himself for the stutter. His voice is unfaltering, his stutter being his only show of vulnerability. He’s never heard himself like this. He has never been like this. But it all comes back to you — you bring out the best in him. You bring out the worst in him.

He watches your smile drop, as you shuffle further away to make space for him on the sofa. It’s cold, this proximity no longer giddying for him. He feels your eyes on him, intense and scrutinizing.

He inhales deeply, holding his breath for counted seconds before releasing it in a staggered exhale. It’s unhealthy, he tells himself. Whatever it is between you and him, it’s fucking unhealthy.

“This,” he says, gesturing the little space between both of you. “This is not working. And you know it.”

His eyes sting. It isn’t supposed to be this hard, goddammit. Words are caught in his throat, so easy to swallow, so hard to let go.

“Felix, you—”

“Don’t,” he interrupts. He sees you; sees your eyes well up, hands moving quickly to wipe any possible show of vulnerability. He wants to reach for you, wipe off your tears and hold your face in his hands — index finger behind your ear as always — but he stops himself.

“We’ve been through this. And whatever this is, it’s eating me alive from the inside, goddammit,” his voice breaks, a deep baritone and occasional silence. “And you know it. I love you; I love you; I fucking love you. But this? I can’t do it anymore.”

“Felix.”

You sound timid, broken. Nothing he has ever heard from you, ever. Felix walks a tightrope with you, his name is enough to make him consider swallowing his words to have you back in his arms.

But he won’t. He cares far too much.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want to do this.”

You. It’s always been about you. Since the day he exhausted his collected confidence in sliding his phone to you across the table for you to save your number in his contacts, it’s always been about you. He is an expert in making himself smaller to watch you grow, to see you flourish. It has always been like that.

Felix doesn’t love. He falls in love; dives in headfirst and skids ten feet deeper. And now, he was breathless, drowning. He wanted out.

“I need to do this.”

You stare at him, wordless. Perhaps even speechless. You’re a wreck — smudged mascara, swollen eyes, tearstained cheeks. Hell, he’s a mess — a well represented mirror image of you.

“Do you want me to leave?” He asks. He’s prepared to leave, only awaiting permission.

“Yeah.”

He stands up, quick, no hesitation. He dusts off his sweatpants, fixing the creases before glancing at you: a mess through and through. He moves to leave, the open door so inviting, only to be stopped by your voice.

“Felix?”

“Yeah?”

“I hate you.”

Unexpressed emotions never die, brewing within you to show up in their ugliest forms. Felix, convinces himself.

The walk to the dorms is exhilarating and liberating, somehow all at once. The winter breeze blowing unforgivingly at his face was his stone-cold grounding to reality. Felix is a dreamer, of the sentimental sort; but this flat sobriety, he chooses to indulge in.

How long has it been? Days, weeks, months since he had spent a night in that crammed bedroom, a shared space for him, Hyunjin and Minho. He had priorities, places to be. Every trail of thought returns to the same thing — you.

Chan is the first face he sees — of course, worried, tense, empathetic. Chan hopes for the best and prepares for the worst. And so he did today, at the sight of Felix’s red rimmed eyes.

“I told her.”

Realisation. These three words are simple but explanatory. Chan all but combusts, his grin stretching from ear to ear, dimples at full display. And if Felix spots correctly, a touch of pride.

“You guys are done?”

“We’re done.”

Done. Such an easy way to put it. So complete within itself. A clean end with a well punctuated full stop. Nothing like what he feels.

“Fucking hell, Felix.”

A third voice joins: Minho. Rejoicing. Positively fucking glowing. What did they all spot that Felix managed to miss?

He is enveloped in hugs. Once. Twice. Thrice. Each of the boys holding him for what seems like forever. As if he were a lost child with his found family. Staggered breaths and hearty laughs. They loved him for him. Lee Felix, not Felix from Stray Kids.

12:35. And he's alone again, this time by choice. He lies on his back, wide eyes staring at the glow in the dark stickers peeling off from the ceiling. He missed this. He missed the forced proximity the dorms brought to him and his members. He missed having a life that stretched beyond you.

He can hear Minho's breathing from the bunk below, slow and sustained, somehow giving him a sense of tranquility.

Minho positively hated you. From day one, when you walked into the dorms, your hand carefully held in Felix's. And Felix had smiled, introducing you to the members with the title: my girlfriend. And you had smiled too, staring up all wide-eyed and innocent at Chan, Hyunjin and Minho.

Chan and Hyunjin had indulged for their friend's sake, breaking into wide grins and cheers of "Lix, you got her, man," and "She's sweet, take care of her, Lix."

Minho only stared, eyes narrow and speculative as he took in your appearance. A white Celine t-shirt — Felix's — tucked neatly in a black pencil skirt, fucking pretentious.

And Felix had glared at Minho, for the first time, before he finally obliged and smiled at you, quickly excusing himself and slipping into his dorm room.

Minho knew. So did Hyunjin and Chan. They had counted every red flag he had missed, looking at you through rose tinted glasses.

Felix remembers inviting you to watch their dance rehearsals. You sitting comfortably on the sofa while he worked on the muscle memory of the choreography. Minho corrected him; once, twice, thrice. His shoulders were too stiff, his footwork too messy, his beginning was off beat and his isolations not sharp enough.

He could feel your eyes on him, sometimes glazing over to Minho. His ears only burnt a darker shade of scarlet with every mistake.

He remembers Minho pulling him to the corner by the sleeve of his shirt.

"This is not working out, man. Either spend time with your girl or work on what pays our bills. Not both at once."

Felix saw red. What was his fucking problem with you? Deep breaths to talk himself down from all the choice words that were yet to be thrown at Minho. He clenched and unclenched his fists behind his back.

And smiled, so alluring. So easy.

"Yes, Hyung."

But Felix was a hopeless romantic. His problems subside when he looked back at you. Love fixes everything.

Now he knew ofcourse, the bittersweet aftertaste of your love still so fresh in his mouth. Love can't fix everything. Hell, love can't fix a damn thing.

"I can't believe you guys can dance like that," you lean back, your shoulder pressed to his. "Like how you move? It was so. . ."

Your voice wanes as you look for the best way to describe what you had seen.

Felix had grimaced, memories of Minho's corrections still fresh in his mind, " Wasn't that good. My shoulders were stiff and clumsy footwork."

You grin, relentless.

"But still. And Minho. Fuck, how is he so . . . fluid?"

He shrugs, half-smile still on his lips. He did admire Minho for the sort of unwavering effort he put in.

"He's like that. There's so much to learn from him."

You're talking. And Felix is not listening. His eyes wander to your face, the way your lips move, your hands gesticulating wildly. He likes you. He likes how you look in his hoodie — so cute, tousled and relaxed. He can't help himself.

You're cut off mid sentence, words caught in your throat as he holds your face in his hands, his lips assuredly on yours. He handles you so carefully, as if you're a cut of glass waiting to be shattered further. His vision wavers and his heart swells. He's kissing you.

He pulls back, breath staggered and heartbeat uneven. You're staring at him, blinking.

"Maybe I should watch you and Minho rehearse again sometime."

And fuck, if only he knew.

There were nights spent going out, getting drunk in the corners of shitty clubs with music even shittier. But he'd do it, just for you.

And those nights, where he'd have to carry you home. Despite you hanging off of some stranger's arm not less than an hour ago, the smell of drink that stranger bought you still lingering in the air.

Nights when he had to hold your hair back as you were bent over the sink, whispering his constant assurance of "it'll be okay" despite being the one without a drop of sleep the past week through.

And your voice would break the silence while you both sat with your backs pressed to the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, so timid, so fragile.

"Felix?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

And he all but falls in love again.

He had never smiled brighter. Despite his muscles aching from hours of practice, his smile stretched from ear to ear, so complete with the rose blush on his cheeks.

Love fixes everything. It always did.

Felix was past the point of a breakdown. Seeing you lie so unruffled on the couch in that pink satin clubbing dress he bought you — so unbothered. Alcohol in your breath, your arms littered with bruises from you running into furniture while dazed and most importantly, the big red bruise on your throat that stared back at him so tauntingly.

It was a pretty colour. Almost turning a purple-lilac in its edges, so close to the colour of your dress. But all appreciation of the colour went out the fucking window because he wasn't the one who gave it to you.

He was tired, muscles aching from the three hour long practice session when he had gotten a call from Yeji. And so utterly in love, he had drived half an hour out of town to that god forsaken club to pick you up.

Your words are so soft under your breath, terribly close to going unheard.

"Felix?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you so fucking much."

And that's was when he decided, it was too fucking much. You. Him. Everything.

And now? Months later, Felix is still learning.

He is learning to forgive the past — that the most beautiful of things come to an end; that sometimes time isn't right, sometimes the person isn't right, you weren't right.

He is learning to wake up alone in the middle of his bed, that just because he doesn't love doesn't mean he didn't love. He's learning how to hold his own hand, how to take up space by himself, how to stop filling voids and start healing them.

He is learning how to love himself.

---

starry night sky ✧ ten lee

summary: stargazing and handholding, eyes locked and mouths upturned in smiles. yeah, he loved you.

wc: 671

genre: fluff; best friends to lovers sorta kinda??

warnings: none

there you were. as you sat on the blanket you had set out only moments before, the boy next to you had his eyes on you as you had your eyes on the stars above.

he contemplated saying a corny joke, ‘the stars are beautiful tonight’, yet he’d be looking at you, as you marveled the wonder that was night sky.

ten could’ve sworn he saw your eyes twinkle as you watched the sky in awe.

a small smile had found itself on ten’s face as he inched his fingers closer to yours. unfortunately, the reaction that the action brought out of you wasn’t necessarily what he was hoping for.

when you had felt the warmth atop your hand you practically screamed, thinking a bug or something of the sort had crawled onto you. you just about snatched your hand away, the feeling of fear swelling up quickly.

but, when you looked over at your hand to find ten’s hand suspiciously close to where you just jerked your hand away from, you put the dots together.

“okay i’ll admit that hurt my feelings a little, but are you like, okay?”

an apologetic smile on your face, you intertwined your fingers with his, looking at him.

“i sincerely apologize for hurting your feelings, but yes i am. i thought your hand was like a bug or something.”

“okay, that's a bit demeaning, don't you think? these are worker’s hands, y/n. they are not to be compared with that of a measly bug.”

“you’re such a fuckin’ dork, oh my god.”

your words may have seemed harsh but between the fondness found in his gaze and the smile that's subconsciously spreading across your face, there was no malice to be found in your banter.

however, his eyes had held you captive for a bit longer than what was comfortable. your face grew warm under his gaze and you let out a nervous laugh.

“hey you, whatcha lookin’ at? i got something on my face?”

you tease, leaving ten’s face to flush as he realized his ogling hadn’t gone unnoticed.

he turned away with a nervous chuckle of his own, scoffing as he did so. he was so obviously trying to play it cool but, right now it sounded like he was imitating a dying cat. it was surprisingly on point, all things considered.

you bit your bottom lip to try and hold back the peals of laughter that you wanted to let go so bad, but nothing could slip past ten. after all, he's your best friend.

“whaddya think you’re laughin’ at, shortstack?”

he rolled over, crawling on top of you. his face hovered over yours and he stared into your eyes, wondering if you'd allow him to get lost in them for as long as he wanted. your breathing was shallow as your eyes went from his eyes to his nose, to his lips and back up.

“hey, ten?”

"yeah?”

“your hands are small. they're not at all like worker hands.”

you giggled as you said it, and he decided he had enough of your teasing for the night.

"oh yeah?”

“yeah. also, i don’t know who you’re calling short stack. we’re the same height. if anything, i’m taller. so, your statement is fal—"

you were cut off by a sudden pressure against your lips. your eyes widened in surprise as you realized it was ten’s lips against yours. your shock subsided and he pulled away. slowly, the realization of what he did dawned on him.

“shit. shit, shit, shit. i’m so sorry. i just really wanted you to shut up, and trying to pull that movie cliché is not like the best course of action. also, i like you but that’s no excuse. y/n, i’m sorry, like genuinely, and—"

this time you shut him up. you kissed him, your heart swelling in your chest as blood rushes to your face. you pulled away, breathless. “i like you and your bug hands, too. don't worry.”

— © jijiluvr 2021, all rights reserved.

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