Sit Down

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

some lalali mingyu memes from me and a friend bc ik you're thinking about him too

---

young & stupid

yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)

you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.

genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol

Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.

Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.

So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.

But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.

“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”

“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”

He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”

This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”

“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.

“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”

“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”

You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.

“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”

You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?

And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.

You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.

You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”

“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.

You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”

He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.

“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”

You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”

“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”

You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.

He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”

And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.

It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.

“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.

“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“

You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.

“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”

Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.

“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”

You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.

That fucker.

“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.

Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”

“That was their third time asking me out.”

“And?”

“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”

“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”

He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”

You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.

“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”

“East campus. The Austin Complex.”

He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”

You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”

“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”

“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”

He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.

“Are you crazy?”

“Most people don’t think so.”

“People will honk.”

“It’s 1 am.”

You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.

“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”

He passes the light just as it turns red.

—

You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.

And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.

You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”

“Payback.”

You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

Fuck. Did you say that outloud?

“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.

“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”

You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”

“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”

“Lubinsky.”

Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”

“His quizzes are impossible.”

“Yeah, but he’s funny.”

You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”

He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”

“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.

“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.

“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”

He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”

You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”

He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”

You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”

“Yes.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.

Goddamn it–those eyes.

You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”

“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”

“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”

“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”

You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…

Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.

—

As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.

“Do it again.”

“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”

He points to your worksheet. “One more.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“I thought you wanted an A.”

“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”

“Just do it.”

You groan and set up another integral.

To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.

Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.

You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”

“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“

You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”

Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.

He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.

“So can we take a break now?”

He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”

You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.

“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”

“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”

“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”

He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”

You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”

He cocks his head. “No?”

You shake yours. “No.”

“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”

“How come you haven’t asked?”

He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.

You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”

“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.

“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”

“So why’d you date him then?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.

The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”

He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”

Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”

He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”

Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”

His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)

“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”

You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”

He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.

—

You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.

You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.

“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”

You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”

“If we kissed?”

“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”

“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”

You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.

“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”

“Probably?” You echo.

“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.

You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”

He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?

“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”

And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”

He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.

“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.

And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?

Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.

“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”

You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”

He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.

He points to your cup. “Shot?”

You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”

—

Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.

—

The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.

“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”

“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)

“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”

You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”

Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.

“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.

“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”

Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.

“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”

Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”

You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.

They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”

“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”

Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”

Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.

“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”

The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”

Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”

You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”

Joshua leans towards you. “What?”

You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.

The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.

“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”

You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”

He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”

Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”

Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”

“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.

Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”

You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”

“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”

“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”

Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”

Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?

Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.

The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.

The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.

And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.

—

Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.

There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.

Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.

You swallow.

“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”

Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?

Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.

You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”

“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”

“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”

You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”

His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”

“It could be.”

Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.

“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.

“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.

Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”

“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”

And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.

Your phone buzzes.

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0

Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally

Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s

You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?

Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place

You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb

You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast

You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right

Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD

An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.

By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”

He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”

“Mine? Why?”

“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”

“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”

He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”

You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”

He burps. “Because of me?”

The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”

“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”

You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”

He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”

“And the occasion was…?”

He looks you dead in the eye.

“You make me nervous.”

Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.

Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.

He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.

“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.

He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”

“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.

“But I’m really sorry.”

“And I really don’t mind.”

He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”

You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”

He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.

You mumble back a ‘thanks’.

“So, what’d you think of the game?”

You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.

“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”

“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”

“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”

You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”

“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”

“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”

“Which assignment? The chem lab?”

You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”

“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”

“Okay, you’re drunk.”

“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”

Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.

“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.

“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”

“A little.”

“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”

“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.

“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”

Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”

“Did you just cringe?”

“–you smell like vomit.”

“Well, do you have clothes for me?”

“No, but I have a couch.”

He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”

—

(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.

You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)

—

When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.

As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?

Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.

“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”

“Date?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.

“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”

“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”

You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.

The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.

“Come on, they’re so cute.”

“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”

“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”

“Good thing we’re not one.”

“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”

You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.

—

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”

And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.

“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.

“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”

“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.

You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”

He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”

And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.

“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”

“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”

“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”

His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”

“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.

You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.

You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”

“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”

You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”

“Other than Soonyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”

You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”

He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”

“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”

He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”

You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”

He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.

He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”

His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”

“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”

He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”

You squint at him. “Why?”

And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”

Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”

He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”

“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”

The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”

“I thought you hated the ocean.”

“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”

You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.

“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.

Did that just happen?

Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.

He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”

He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.

And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.

—

The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.

“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.

“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”

“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.

“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”

“Yeah, but the game was fun.”

“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.

“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”

“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”

That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.

Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”

“Like what?”

“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”

“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.

You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.

“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”

This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”

But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.

Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”

After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.

He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”

Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”

You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”

He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”

Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.

“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.

It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”

You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.

“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”

“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”

You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”

They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.

“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”

“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”

“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”

You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”

“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”

You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.

You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.

“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.

You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”

“What kind of rule is that?”

“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”

You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”

He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.

The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.

“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”

He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”

You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”

He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”

You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”

He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”

You kiss him.

You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.

The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.

He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.

A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”

“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.

1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath. 2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck. 3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end? 4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken? 5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him. 6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.” 7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.” 8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?” 9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?” 10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say. 11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face. 12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?” 13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.” 14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.” 15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid? “You know, I…” 16! Please, you want to beg, say something. 17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.” 18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.

The rest of the numbers blur in your head.

—

(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.

“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”

The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)

—

You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.

By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.

You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.

—

You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.

By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.

Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”

You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”

“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”

Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”

“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”

You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”

“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”

You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.

You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.

Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.

“Seungcheol called me.”

His face twitches. “Why?”

“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”

He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”

You nod.

He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.

You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”

He nods.

“Do you want a ride back?

He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“How would you get back to yours?”

“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”

The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”

“For what?”

“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”

He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”

He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”

“Where?”

“I’ll drop you home.”

You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.

Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”

“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”

Oh.

Oh.

Holy fucking shit.

He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”

You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”

He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”

You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I don’t think–”

“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”

He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.

He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.

You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.

You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.

Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”

You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”

“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”

You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.

And you can’t help it, you grin.

You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.

“How did you get here?”

“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”

“I told you to–”

“I know what you said.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”

“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”

You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.

He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.

“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”

“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.

You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.

---

more bf!anton texts

i’m still suffering from the most intense anton brainrot

warnings: slightly suggestive in one of them but it’s really not much

requests are open // send an ask to be added to my taglist!

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

---

「Blue」

➥ Best Friend/Neighbor!Chris x Reader (f) — 2.4k

➥ Hurt/comfort, mutual pining, smut with feelings

➥ He knows you. A lot more than you know.

He knows when you have the blues.

Your car enters the driveway across the street. You kill the engine and turn off the headlights, but you’re not leaving the car. You’re not looking for something either—he observes no movement from his kitchen window. You’re just sitting there, perfectly still and your eyes probably closed. Over time, he’s managed to break it down into three levels, but he needs to see your face to determine which one it is.

Level one is code sky. Either because it’s Sunday night, or there is some minor annoyance you refuse to let go of. Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t solve.

Level two is code azure. Someone with a high social rank is involved. A family member, a close friend, or worst case scenario, your boss. You will need to extensively talk it out, and he will knock some sense into you. Problem solved.

Level three is code midnight. Something drastic has happened. He has observed only two instances in five years, immediately praying to every deity he knows to never witness it again. 

He knows when you have the blues. All shades of it.

➥ Read the full story here. (No ads, no signups, clicking is enough — for content protection only)

「© 2024, cb97percent · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I needed a pillow to hug today. If you also did, this one's dedicated to you.

✉ Enjoyed this? Share your thoughts with me! It would also be cool of you to reblog so that my work can reach more people.

seeing double

in which: your complicated situationship with your upperclassman gets more complicated thanks to the feelings of an underclassman.

pair: college student!seonghwa/college student!afab!reader/college student!wonbin

word count: 11.1k

content: love triangle, lowkey dramatic, confessions, nicknames (doll, doll face, baby), smut (obvi), fwb (w seonghwa), seonghwa's lowkey a dick, jealousy sex, horny rabbits...?, three different smut scenes omg, slightly drunk make out session, oral sex, threesome, double penetration, safe sex, completely consensual!

rated: R | nsfw — minors do not interact

author's note: thank you @yunhoszn for helping me w the development of this fic ily babes •///3///• nd honorary dedication to @starryriize bc you chose to torture me w ian reels /j also yes i'm repeating myself w the college trope (nd some of the warnings) but i can't help myself i love college aus

another world masterlist

WONBIN had a massive crush on you. You were smart, beautiful, charismatic— if he believed in love at first sight, it was because of you.

He didn't join the journalism club because of you; the fact that you were the vice president of the club was merely a happy coincidence. Wonbin made sure to never miss a single meeting because the meetings were the only way he got to see you. You were a junior, and he was merely a freshman. He honestly wondered if he even had a chance with you because you were an upperclassman and probably wouldn't go for someone younger than you, but he still wanted to try his luck because, as far as he could tell, you were single.

"Alright, well that concludes this week's meeting. Everyone has their assignments, correct?" you asked as you sorted your papers.

Everyone nodded, but Wonbin's nod was just a little more vigorous.

"Great. Okay, go off, do your thing."

You dismissed everyone, and before Wonbin got out of his chair, you said, "Wait, Wonbin, I need to talk to you."

"Y-Yes?" Wonbin stuttered while praying his voice wouldn't betray him by cracking.

"Your last article was really good, but I'm wondering if we should have you exploring the arts department more."

"What do you mean?"

"You have a clear passion for theater and musicals, so if you would like, you can focus on the school performances instead of being assigned to whatever's left," you explained.

"You mean like... I get my own column?"

"Yep— Only if you want it, though!" you clarified.

"No, I really do want it! Thank you so much!" Wonbin said excitedly while bowing gratefully.

The thing was that only upperclassmen got their own section, and all of the underclassmen picked up random scraps here and there, so the fact that Wonbin was getting offered this chance was incredible to him. Plus, if you were the one breaking the news to him, that must mean you really like his articles.

"So, Seonghwa's going to talk to you more about the column maybe tomorrow or next week," you continued. "It depends on when he gets done with his capstone, after all."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Wonbin nodded— after all, the president did have the final say for everything.

"Good. Alright, I'll see you later then."

Wonbin nodded and bowed again before doing his best to leave the room confidently. The second he was out of the room, though, he held onto his beating heart and exhaled heavily. A smile and light pink blush crept onto his cheeks as he replayed the moment in his head. The smile lingered on his face as he left the building with a skip in his step.

"Hey, Wonbin," a girl he'd never seen before suddenly approached him as he left the building. "I— I have something to tell you..."

Slightly taken aback, the smile on his face faltered as he looked at the girl. He took in his surroundings and realized that there was a group of girls standing several feet away watching his interaction with this girl with a blazing red face.

Oh. Another confession.

"What is it?" Wonbin tried asking as politely as possible, but his patience was wearing thin.

"I... I really like you!"

Lord.

"Oh, well, thank you," he said softly.

"Will you go out with me?" The girl suddenly got a little bolder as she lifted her head to make intense eye contact with him.

"Ah, well, um... I already have a girlfriend," Wonbin lied straight through his teeth.

The girl's face fell. She looked at the group of other girls and glared at them. Then, she quickly turned back to Wonbin and said, "I-I'm sorry for wasting your time! Bye!"

Wonbin watched the girl scurry off to her friends and start sobbing the second she got to them. He let out a soft sigh. He grabbed his headphones from his bag and put them on before playing a song and making his way off campus.

Why couldn't he just get the girl that he wanted?

YOU finished up the article you were working on and were cleaning up your station when your phone pinged with a new notification.

seonghwa: meet me at the bridge

The bridge he was talking about, the only bridge on campus, was a five minute walk from your building. You messaged him back before wrapping up and heading out of the building.

It was already nighttime when you left the building. You shouldn't have been surprised at that point because you were used to staying late to finish up articles, but every time you walked out to a dark sky and barely any stars, you were always surprised. Quickly, you made your way to the bridge and saw Seonghwa standing at the peak of it while leaning against the wood railing. The second you took a step on the creaking wood, Seonghwa turned his head, his gaze meeting yours.

"Hey," he greeted with a smile.

"Hi."

"So, tell me," the man got right to it. "How was the meeting?"

"It went well. Everyone did what they were supposed to, everyone got their assignments— standard."

"Good."

"Oh, and I told Wonbin about the column. He seemed pretty excited about it," you couldn't help but giggle thinking about the giddy expression on his face and the stars sparkling in his eyes.

"Yeah? That's good to hear."

Seonghwa, for some reason, seemed a little disgruntled after you brought up Wonbin. You were confused— it was his idea to give Wonbin the column in the first place, so why was he acting all weird about it now?

You knew Seonghwa was definitely bothered when he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pockets. He took one out and stuck it between his lips, only for you to take it out of his mouth.

"What?" Seonghwa turned to you, very clearly irritated.

"Not yet."

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"Okay, but I'd rather not make out with you when you have cigarette breath, Hwa," you responded while leaning closer to him.

"Oh? Is that on the table tonight?"

Seonghwa turned towards you and wrapped his arms around you before pulling you close to him.

"You have to ask? I thought that was a given."

"Hmm, okay, doll face," Seonghwa hummed.

His hands strayed down to your ass. He held your ass tightly before pulling up, bringing you to your tippy toes and closer to him. You held his shoulders and brought your face closer to his.

"Your place or mine?"

Seonghwa, somewhat lost in thought, hummed again while teasing you, his lips barely grazing yours.

"Your place. My roommate's bringing someone home."

"Alright, but one condition."

"What is it?"

"Stop fucking teasing me and kiss me."

Seonghwa stifled a giggle and leaned away from you to get a look at the expression on your face. "We're in public," he whispered. "Do you really want people to see?"

"Hwa, your hands are on my fucking ass right now."

"Touché."

Finally, he stopped teasing you, and he pressed his lips against yours. His hands moved from your ass to your lower back. His fingertips tickled the dimples on your back, and his lips made yours tingle when he tugged upwards on your lower lip. You ran your fingers through his hair with one hand, your other hand slipping from his shoulder to his chest. His arms pulled you even closer— you had no idea if there was even room between the two of you— and you felt his pelvis press against you. He was starting to firm up.

"Wait," you breathlessly pushed him away, the man whining slightly. "Let's go before you fuck me on the bridge."

 The entire walk back to your place, Seonghwa kept a slight distance between the two of you. The great thing about the bridge was that not many students used it, so he was able to be as intimate as he wanted to be with you there, but the walk from campus to your apartment made you go through the major hotspots of your college, and if the two of you were going to keep your relationship a secret, you both had to act like there was absolutely nothing between the two of you.

So, the second your front door shut behind you, Seonghwa pounced on you. He grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you in while making out with you sloppily, your own fingers getting tangled in his hair. His fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt nimbly before untucking your shirt and pulling the sleeves down quickly. He continued breathlessly kissing you as he pinned you against the door. You worked on getting his shirt off, the buttons coming off one by one to reveal his white wife-beater.

You were getting impatient. You pushed Seonghwa away from the door and towards your bedroom, Seonghwa ultimately carrying you while you wrapped your legs around his waist so he could kiss you a little more comfortably.

As soon as you got to your room, Seonghwa sat then laid down on the bed, making you straddle him and hover above him. Still kissing, you reached behind you and unhooked your bra, the bra flying somewhere in the room the second the straps fell off your shoulders.

You saw Seonghwa's eyes sparkle when he laid eyes on your breasts. He slid down slightly and wrapped his arms around you to bring you closer to him, the man immediately sucking on your breast as soon as it neared his mouth. You sighed blissfully the harder he sucked, and you moaned softly when he began massaging your other breast with his hand.

"Seong— Mmm! Seonghwa, p-please," you whined. "Just fuck me, please..."

Seonghwa chose to ignore you. He, instead, switched breasts, and instead of massaging your breast again, he ran his hands down the curve of your bare waist, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He tugged on your nipple gently with his teeth, his hands removing your pants, allowing you to kick them off.

"Stay on your hands and knees, doll face," Seonghwa said, his voice low and sultry, sending tingles down your spine.

You chose to listen to him. Seonghwa slipped off the bed and pushed you forward so that you were in the center of the bed. He brought your waist up slightly before licking a stripe along your cunt. You gripped the duvet below you and sighed with pleasure as you felt Seonghwa's tongue ravish your pussy.

"Oh my God— Oh fuck!" you cried when you felt his finger draw circles on your clit while his tongue pushed through your folds. You clawed at the sheets and curled your toes as you felt the pleasure building within you.

As he continued to eat you out, Seonghwa removed his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his cock out. His tongue was still deep inside you as he collected some of your arousal onto his fingers before stroking himself. The higher and shorter your moans got, the faster he fucked his fist. It was when his tongue found your clit once again did white fill your vision. You cried loudly as you came, Seonghwa nearly getting a facial as you squirted. He quickly drove two of his fingers into your cunt and fingered you hard and fast, getting you to squirt again. Your thighs were trembling, and your hands were barely supporting you by the time you recovered from your orgasm.

"God, doll face, how pent up were you?" Seonghwa teased as he moved upright and knelt right behind you.

You couldn't even tell him to shut up— you were breathing heavily and focusing on blinking until you could see clearly again. Seonghwa got off the bed momentarily to rifle through your nightstand and grab a condom from the box the two of you had stashed there months ago before returning to his position behind you. He rolled the condom on then teased your cunt with the tip of his cock. He rubbed up and down, occasionally pressing the head through your folds.

"Hwa— Ah! Oh, shit," you were about to yell at him to stop teasing you when he shoved his cock all the way inside you, bottoming out.

"Hmm?" Seonghwa asked with a slight groan. "What was that?"

You bit your lower lip and shook your head before dropping it, the man behind you chuckling at your response. He held your hips and began moving at a fairly steady pace. Every time he thrust into you, you heard him exhale through gritted teeth. The lewd sounds of your wet cunt swallowing Seonghwa's cock filled up the room along with the bedsprings below you, the man starting to speed up.

Seonghwa moved his hands to your waist, and at some point, he pushed the space between your shoulder blades down, making you go from your hands to your knees. He leaned over you and smacked his waist against yours even faster, his breathing erratic as he choked back his groans. You, on the other hand, were just letting yourself go. The new angle drove you to pleasure faster, and at some point, you couldn't take it anymore.

"F-Fuck, I'm cumming!" you whimpered as you pushed your head into your mattress.

You cunt fluttered before completely tightening up, Seonghwa wincing as the tension felt way too fucking good. He pulled out and fingered you fast, making you squirt onto his pants and your duvet. Your cries died down as you completely released, the knot in your stomach completely unraveling. You collapsed onto your bed and sighed blissfully while knowing in the back of your head that Seonghwa wasn't done with you yet because he still had yet to cum as well.

"Damn, now I need to do my laundry," Seonghwa chuckled as he observed his stained pants. "Looks like I'm spending the night."

"Be honest with me— you did that intentionally, right?" you accused him with a playful tone as you turned to face him.

"And what if I did?"

"Hwa, you can just spend the night if you'd like. You don't need to come up with an excuse. Also, you have a lot of clothes here."

Seonghwa had slipped out of his pants and tossed them over the edge of the bed before kneeling between your now open legs. He tugged his wife-beater off and flung it behind him before hovering right above you, his beautiful face nearing yours slowly.

"Is that right, doll?" Seonghwa asked with his signature smile. "Alright, noted."

You smiled back and held the back of his neck to pull him down and kiss you. Seonghwa kissed you sensually as he positioned his cock and slipped it into your wet cunt. You were soaking, and it was easy for him to glide through you, but that didn't change the fact that you were still incredibly tight. So tight, in fact, that Seonghwa could barely hold it together.

It was when you moved your hips upwards into his slightly that caused him to break. He stopped kissing you to fuck you fast and hard, your hands moving to his arms and gripping tightly.

Seonghwa couldn't even get the words out. He groaned loudly as he came, his hot cum filling the rubber yet still warming you up inside. He continued moving in and out of you, his cock twitching as more ropes of cum continued collecting in the condom. With a final sigh, Seonghwa hovered above you again, his boba eyes starry with bliss.

"Seonghwa," you whispered as you brushed his stray locks from his sweaty forehead. "Tell me something."

"What is it, doll?"

"Was that enough for you, or can we..."

Seonghwa chuckled. He placed his thumb on your lower lip and tugged gently. You saw his eyes darken, and you felt his cock— which was still inside you— firm up.

"I can never get enough of you, doll."

YOU knew that Seonghwa sleeping over was a bad idea because he was going to make the two of you late for class. That morning, you woke up to Seonghwa's waist pressing into yours, his insatiability overpowering you.

"Come on, doll face," Seonghwa's morning voice rumbled in your ear as he hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. "Just one time..."

"Hwa, we have class..." you sighed.

No was not an option at that point because Seonghwa's hands slipped under your shirt and tiptoed up to your breasts, his fingers immediately finding and tugging on your nipples. He pressed gentle kisses along the slope of your neck, his kisses slowly moving to your shoulder.

"Goddammit, fuck you, Park Seonghwa," you groaned when you felt him push his knee between your legs.

That's how the two of you ended up sprinting to campus. You both had class at the same time, but they were different classes, so no one could suspect the relationship between the two of you since you were running to opposite ends of campus.

After your morning class, though, the two of you met up at the cafeteria— you and your friends from the journalism department always ate lunch together, which meant you got to see Seonghwa again.

"Hey, how was your morning?" Seonghwa asked very nonchalantly as he sat down right next to you. 

"A bit of a headache, actually," you answered truthfully.

"Oh? Why is that?"

There was a sly smirk on Seonghwa's face— a smirk that you wanted to wipe off with a slap, but you held yourself back.

"I couldn't get out of bed."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to sleep— Seonghwa, just shut the fuck up and eat your lunch," you said, your voice laced with exasperation as you pushed his face away from you so he would stop asking you “why?”.

You and your friends dug into your lunches, and the table was silent for a grand total of two seconds before one of your friends commented, "You guys are awfully close for people who are just friends..."

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Are you sure there's nothing going on between the two of you?"

Neither you nor Seonghwa changed your expression— the two of you were masters at not getting flustered when people asked you invasive questions at that point.

"As if anything would happen between us," Seonghwa scoffed.

"But you two were clearly flirting—"

"Seonghwa just lives to annoy the shit out of me," you swiftly responded. "You shut up and eat your food, too."

A couple other friends snickered before the conversation steered back to something normal.

And although you and Seonghwa agreed that nothing serious would ever happen between you two, his response to your friend's question bothered you slightly.

His response continued to swirl around in the back of your head as you went through your remaining classes and got to the journalism department floor. You desperately tried to distract yourself by throwing yourself into your homework and work for the club, but it just kept fucking bothering you.

"As if anything would happen between us."

You hated that you were overthinking it. After giving up on trying to focus, you packed up your bag and stood up, only to realize the entire floor was completely deserted; you were so in your own head that you didn't realize how much time had passed. You sighed softly to yourself and began walking towards the exit, only to hear someone rapidly typing.

You walked in the direction of the sound to see Wonbin staring intently at his screen and tapping away. He had his headphones on as well as a pair of blue-light glasses as he practically shoved his face into his computer screen. He was so focused, and at first you found it cute, but when you saw the serious look on his face, your heart skipped a beat.

He looked familiar in a way, but you couldn't quite place it.

Shaking the thought from your head, you decided to quietly approach him. You leaned over his shoulder, and even then, Wonbin had yet to notice you. It was when you asked, "Whatcha workin' on?" did Wonbin respond to you.

"Oh my God, you scared me!" Wonbin exclaimed while nearly leaping out of his chair.

"Sorry," you couldn't help but laugh as you apologized to the startled guy. "So, what're you working on?"

Clearing his throat and moving slightly to the side so that you could get a better look at his screen, Wonbin moved the cursor to show many, many tabs. He explained that he was doing all of the research in the Goddamn world before writing an article for one of his journalism classes. Seeing him talk so passionately about what he was working on made a soft smile spread across your face, and your heart fluttered a bit before a new nagging feeling entered the back of your mind as you suddenly realized why he looked familiar to you.

He reminded you of a younger Seonghwa.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard a growling noise— Wonbin's stomach was rumbling. His face went bright red as he covered his stomach and looked away from you.

"Wonbin, when was the last time you ate?" you asked him.

"Uh... I think this morning," he admitted. "I skipped lunch to work on the research."

"Alright, come with me. Let's go get some dinner."

Wonbin scrambled to clean up his station before scurrying after you. The two of you ended up going to the convenience store near campus and grabbing cup ramens. The two of you sat side by side as you ate your ramen in silence and stared out the window.

"I have a question for you," you stated somewhat suddenly, making the poor guy choke on his noodles. "Why did you choose journalism?"

"Honestly... I don't know. I kind of wanted to become a musician, but my parents made me reconsider because it wasn't realistic according to them," Wonbin responded— he was being pretty candid with you, making your heart swell up a tiny bit.

"What do you want to do after college, then?"

"No idea yet... I should figure that out, shouldn't I?"

Wonbin looked at his ramen and sighed softly. You definitely stressed the poor boy out. In attempt to make him feel better, you patted his head and said, "You still have, like, two years to figure it out. Don't stress too hard for now."

"O-Oh! Right! You're, erm, you're right..." Wonbin nearly yelped, his face turning bright red. "I have time..."

The innocent, puppy-dog look on his face made your cuteness aggression kick in for absolutely no reason. You ended up chuckling lightly and ruffling his hair, Wonbin's face only getting redder.

He's so cute.

After the two of you finished eating and making more small talk, you both exited the convenience store.

"Which way are you headed, Wonbin?" you asked.

"That way. You?"

"I'm the opposite direction," you couldn't help but laugh. "Get home safe, okay?"

"W-Wait, I can walk you home—"

"Don't be ridiculous. I live close to here, and you should get home soon, too. I'll see you tomorrow."

Wonbin pressed his lips together and nodded. Again, he looked so damn cute that you just couldn't help yourself. You ruffled his hair again and waved goodbye to him before heading back to your apartment.

So cute.

After that night, you couldn't help but give Wonbin more attention. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded you of Seonghwa that drew you to the younger guy, but regardless, you were definitely showing him a little more attention than the other underclassmen after that.

SEONGHWA was annoyed. You had suddenly grown distant from him, and he didn't know why. You were being pretty passive when he texted you, and honestly, it had been a week since the two of you had hooked up— the max it had ever been was 3, maybe 4, days. Which meant not only was Seonghwa annoyed, but he was also pent up.

His irritation only grew when he saw how close you were getting with the underclassmen, specifically Wonbin. Sure, it was your job as the vice president to make sure everyone could handle the work assigned and get everything in on time, but the president and vice president still had to check in with each other, right?

One day, he snapped. You were sitting next to Wonbin and laughing with him, and he didn't like that at all. Seonghwa wasn't one to get jealous, but you with this kid was driving him insane. He needed to say something to you.

"Any questions?" Seonghwa asked after wrapping up that week's club meeting.

Not a single person raised their hand. Seonghwa nodded before silently dismissing everyone. He kept an eye on you as he saw you quickly grab your bag and try to sneak out of the room. Before you made it to the doors, he grabbed your shoulder and said, "We need to talk, vice president."

He saw you gulp nervously before nodding and heading towards the center of the room. As soon as everyone had left, Seonghwa closed and locked the door.

"What the hell, Y/N? You've been avoiding me, haven't you?" Seonghwa cut the bullshit and got straight to it.

"N-No, I haven't—"

"Don't fucking lie to me. You just tried to sneak out of the room. What the hell is going on?"

You let out a deep breath and met his steely gaze as you responded, "Nothing. Everything's fine. I just have work to do."

"What, with that kid?"

Seonghwa saw your eyebrows furrow, and the frown on your face deepened. He definitely hit a sore spot.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me. You've been spending more time with that kid lately."

You slammed your bag onto the conference room table and stood a little more confidently, slightly startling Seonghwa. His gaze then hardened before he continued, "You need to stop being so nice to the kid—"

"Kid? He's got a name, Seonghwa, and he's not a kid. Don't make it sound weird," you interrupted.

"You're the one making it weird when you say it like that. Either way, don't be so nice to him."

"Why? Weren't you the one who wanted to give him that column in the first place?"

"Yes, but—"

"So, why shouldn't I help him? He's a freshman, Seonghwa, and he needs some help with this first article."

"Because you need to stop leading him on," the words flew out of Seonghwa's mouth before he could even reflect what he actually meant.

Your face got slightly red, and Seonghwa immediately realized what was going on: you weren't spending time with Wonbin to help him; you were spending time with Wonbin to be with him.

"You like him, don't you?" he asked quietly.

"So what if I do?" you cleared your throat and shot back.

"You shouldn't. It's unprofessional."

You scoffed (and Seonghwa also mentally reprimanded himself for saying something so foolish). "Are you really one to be preaching professionalism, Seonghwa?"

Seonghwa lowered his gaze. You weren't wrong.

"I can do whatever I want, Seonghwa. You're not my boyfriend."

"I—"

"And I'm not leading him on if I'm genuinely interested in him," you interrupted.

"Genuinely interested? Ha! Give me a break," Seonghwa laughed sardonically. "Besides, I may not be your boyfriend, but face it, doll face— You're mine. You've been mine since we met, and you'll continue to be mine."

"Excuse me? I'm not an object for you to fucking own, and the only way I'll ever actually be yours is if you decide to stop acting like this and actually ask me out, you prick."

Seonghwa was at a loss for words. He was getting really heated, and his jealousy was surging forward, because he didn't mean half of the things coming out of his huge fucking mouth; but, he couldn't stop himself. He was so pissed.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me, then? You're mad that I'm not asking you to be exclusive?"

"You are the one that said "as if anything would happen between us," and I want to stop wasting my time on someone who sees me as nothing more than his personal fuck toy."

"But, Y/N, you knew what you were getting into... We agreed that we wouldn't catch feelings for each other."

You were quiet for a little, then said softly, "Then why are you jealous?"

Seonghwa did not know how to respond to that. He sighed softly before pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes tightly. He was trying to rationalize everything in his head, but he had too many thoughts and emotions flying around. After a moment of silence passed, Seonghwa opened his eyes and gazed at you, his heart beating slightly faster as he saw the sadness in your eyes. He took a small step forward and held his hands out for you to hold, and he was relieved when you did take his hand.

"I'm sorry," he started. "It's... It's complicated. I need some time to think about it... Maybe even talk it through."

"I think I do too," you admitted quietly. "We don't have to talk about it tonight, though."

"That's the thing, though... I— I want to," Seonghwa stuttered. He laced his fingers with yours and held them up before looking into your eyes earnestly and saying, "I really miss you."

"I miss you, too, Hwa."

Hearing you finally say his nickname instead of his full name made the man feel so much better. He could help but smile in relief. The smile on his face faltered when you took your hands back, but it returned when you hugged him. He hugged you as well and kissed your temple while comforting you by rubbing your back.

"Would you like to come over to my place tonight to talk things through? Please?" Seonghwa whispered.

"...I'd like that."

WONBIN was a little upset if he was being honest. He knew that you were helping him with the column since it was his first time working on something so big, so when you stopped helping him, he was disappointed.

The more time you spent with him, the bigger his crush on you grew. He honestly thought that maybe you might've shared the same feelings, but after he completed his first column, his number of interactions with you had died down. At least you were still talking to him even if it was not as frequently.

That being said, after spending so much time with you, Wonbin couldn't help but pay even more attention to you. He wasn't stalking you or anything, but any time you were within his general vicinity, his eyes were drawn towards you. You were even more beautiful, even more charming, even more charismatic to him. Dare he say it, if he wasn't careful, he would fall in love with you.

He noticed these things, but he also noticed that you were kind of sticking close to Seonghwa's side. He wondered if you were dating the guy because there was just something about the way the two of you interacted that made him question exactly how close you were with the president. Like, at some point, it didn't look like a vice president and a president talking, nor did it seem like two really good friends talking, but rather like two people who clearly had feelings for each other.

"Don't forget," Seonghwa announced at the end of that week's meeting. "We have the social tonight. Everyone better show up!"

Laughter and chatter rippled through the club, and soon after, everyone left the room. Wonbin took a little more time leaving the room and saw you approach Seonghwa with some files. You were standing awfully close to him, and Wonbin definitely noticed the way Seonghwa's facial features softened when you spoke to him. He feared that his suspicions were true when he saw the two of you laugh and chat happily, so he quickly left the room before he had to see more of it.

Unfortunately, he was going to see more of it that night at the social. He was dreading the social, actually. At first, he was excited because it was a chance to spend time with you, but after what happened earlier that day, he had very mixed feelings about it. Those feelings became significantly less mixed when he found himself surrounded by all of the girls in the journalism department.

"You're so cute, Wonbin," one girl commented as she touched his arm for more than three seconds. "Your girlfriend must be very happy to be with you."

Shit.

He forgot that he told people that he had a girlfriend. Yet, even though this girl next to him knew that he "had a girlfriend," she was still hitting on him. Seriously, what was wrong with this girl?

"Yeah, she is," Wonbin responded with a pleasant smile as he brushed the girl's hand off his arm.

"Are you happy to be with her, though?" another girl pressed herself right up against Wonbin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I am," Wonbin kept his pleasant smile plastered to his face while he moved away from the girl.

The girls continued to talk to him and harass him, and every girl tried to get him to drink, but there was no way in hell that he would drink anything these girls gave him out of fear for his own safety.

For once, Wonbin was actually super grateful to see Seonghwa walk in, because the second he did, all the girls turned their attention to him, allowing Wonbin to sneak away from the girls and sit elsewhere. He sat down near some male upperclassmen and let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God..." he muttered to himself.

"Oh no! Pretty girls love me and won't leave me alone!" one of the upperclassmen said with heavy sarcasm. "You don't realize how lucky you are, you lucky bastard."

"You know most of those girls are psycho, though, right?" Wonbin explained. "Some of them followed me home the other day..."

"Okay, well, when you put it like that..."

The upperclassman, now feeling horrible for the poor freshman, poured Wonbin a shot then clinked his glass with Wonbin's before they both took their shots. Wonbin wasn't exactly a lightweight, but the second the shot went down, he realized that maybe that was enough for the night; and that realization only doubled down when felt his face get hot and his body sway.

The upperclassmen were all talking— and they weren't leaving Wonbin out— but Wonbin was only able to get out small statements and words here and there. He was definitely not drunk, and he was barely tipsy, but the only reason he was so out of it was because he couldn't help but stare at you. Seonghwa ended up sitting right next to you when he got to the restaurant, so Wonbin watched with slight envy as you laughed (cutely, in Wonbin's humble opinion) at something Seonghwa said.

"Hey," Wonbin suddenly interrupted the upperclassmen's conversation about God knows what. "I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Is there something going on between Y/N and Seonghwa?"

"Oh, I actually know the answer to this one!" one of the upperclassmen at the table spoke. "I asked them the other day, and they both got mad at me, so I know this for a fact."

"Jesus, you're just as wordy as your fucking articles," another upperclassman slapped the first guy's shoulder. "Spit it out."

"Well, Seonghwa said, "As if anything would happen between us," and then Y/N said that Seonghwa lives to annoy the shit out of her, so there's really nothing there."

"Huh..." Wonbin mused out loud.

"Plus, Seonghwa's graduating this year, and Y/N's going to be president when he leaves, so most of the time they spend together now is just him prepping her. The last president did the same thing with Seonghwa," the guy continued.

"Also," another added. "If the president and the vice president didn't spend time together, I'd be concerned for the future of the department."

"True..."

"Wait, kid, why are you asking?"

"Oh, I just thought they seemed really close," Wonbin did his damn best to make sure he didn't stutter.

Most of the upperclassmen at the table accepted his response and turned to talk to each other, but the one Wonbin shared a drink with side-eyed him. He leaned towards Wonbin and whispered, "You like Y/N, don't you?"

Wonbin blushed furiously. His face betrayed him, but he still responded, "No!"

"Don't worry, kid. All of us have had some sort of crush on her at some point. She's just that charming— but it's never going to happen, so keep dreaming."

With that and a pat on his shoulder, the upperclassman turned to his peers, leaving Wonbin with his own thoughts. He ended up taking another shot by himself and nursed a beer while he tuned into the conversation at the table.

The normalcy lasted a grand total of five minutes before the girls who were harassing Wonbin earlier joined his new table. The upperclassmen tried to talk to the girls, but they kept expressing interest in a very exasperated Wonbin to the point where he was feeling claustrophobic. With a stroke of brilliance, Wonbin got out of his situation by excusing himself to "go to the bathroom," but instead of going to the bathroom, he went outside for some air.

Wonbin sighed deeply as he stood by the side of the establishment, his body beginning to relax as he focused on the dark sky above.

"Geez, that was a deep sigh."

His body immediately tensed again as he flinched when he heard your voice. You stood alongside him and waved at him while saying, "Hi, Wonbin."

"O-Oh my gosh," Wonbin managed to choke out a response while holding his heart. "Uh, hi..."

You giggled at his reaction, sending Wonbin's heart on another sprint. He felt his face get red hot again when he realized how close you were standing to him.

"You look a little tipsy," you commented when you saw his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Wonbin said after clearing his throat. "I just needed to come out for air."

"Are you sure? Your face looks a little too flushed right now."

You gestured for him to get closer to you, which obviously, he did. You pressed your palm to his forehead, making Wonbin freak out internally even more. Even after all the hair ruffles, his heart still wasn't used to you making physical contact with him so casually. 

"You're so warm," you whispered.

"I d-don't have a fever..."

"I know you don't."

It was when you cupped his face and smiled softly at him did Wonbin realize that you were a little tipsy too, just like him. He truly froze when you brushed your thumbs along his cheekbones, his heart thudding wildly against his chest.

"You're so cute, Wonbin," you told him, making his already deep blush get way worse.

"T-Thank you... You're really pretty too—!"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wonbin covered his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. He was so surprised that he was being bold and honest with you because he really wasn't one to be like that sober. He was even more surprised when you giggled at his reaction.

"You're adorable, Wonbin."

Wonbin truly had no idea how his heart didn't just burst out of his chest when you kissed his cheek. Granted, it was the tiniest of pecks, but it was a freaking kiss from you for crying out loud. When the two of you made eye contact, something stirred within him. He had half a mind to surge forward and actually kiss you, but he didn't need to because you pulled his face towards you and kissed him first.

His arms went around your waist, and you held his shoulders as you kissed him over and over again, all the unspoken feelings between the two of you silently coming forward.

The interest was mutual... Thank God.

YOU held Wonbin's hand as you entered your apartment, your fingers laced with his. Neither of you had uttered a word about what just happened, but there was a silent understanding at least, and that's all you really needed for now.

When you got to the living room, you let go of his hand and sat down on the couch, Wonbin sitting right next to you. You felt your heart racing so fast that it was ready to take off for the moon when you saw the way he was looking at you.

"I, um... Can—" Wonbin cleared his throat and swallowed nervously. "Can I kiss you?"

Moments ago, he was kissing you as if the world would end if he stopped, and now he was sitting on your couch asking for permission? God, he was so fucking cute. You nodded and scooted the tiniest bit closer to him. Wonbin let out a tiny sigh of relief, a brief smile crossing his face as he cupped your face gently.

This time, the kiss was more sensual and passionate. It was only one, sweet kiss at first, followed by several more, the intensity of the kisses steadily raising as your emotions surged to the surface. There was a hint of urgency and intense desire emanating from him as he leaned into you, pushing you down so that you were laying on the couch.

Wonbin straddled you and sat upright to remove his shirt, his toned body glistening with a light layer of sweat. You were a little in awe as you observed the way he ran his fingers through his hair, his muscles getting more defined as he leaned back. You were staring so intently, in fact, that Wonbin subtly tried to cover his body.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"You're gorgeous, Wonbin."

The compliment made his face turn bright red. It seemed like he was getting shyer by the second, but you changed your opinion when he assumed a more dominant position. He trapped you on the couch and hovered above you, the twinkle in his eye slowly getting replaced by lust.

"I could say the same to you," he whispered.

He kissed you passionately, his hair tickling your cheeks the more he moved into you. His hand snuck under your shirt, and he trailed his fingernails up your torso until he held your ribs gently. You arched your back and pushed yourself towards him as you got slightly impatient; yet, his slow pace was turning you on even more.

Wonbin sat up again and helped you out of your shirt, and to save a little time, you unhooked and removed your own bra. Wonbin slightly gasped when got to see your bare body. He bit his lower lip and lowered himself again, his lips meeting yours, his chest slightly rubbing against yours. You let out a soft moan when you felt his warm hands on your breasts. He massaged them as he moved his lips to your cheek. He trailed tender kisses along your cheek, down your neck, along your collarbone, and to your breast.

While he sucked and massaged your breasts, you couldn't help but think about how skilled he was— this definitely wasn't his first time, which made you a little more excited if you were being completely honest.

A soft moan left your lungs when you felt him press his knee in between your legs. He looked up at you with mild surprise. You maintained eye contact as you let out soft breaths in unison.

"I, um," you whispered. "I don't think I can wait any longer, Wonbin... I need you."

A dusty rose blush spread from his cheeks to his ears. He merely nodded and got off the couch. You sat up and were about to get off as well, only for Wonbin to outstretch his arms. Next thing you knew, he was carrying you to your bedroom, his hands supporting your legs and back while you hugged him.

Wonbin laid you down on the bed, and the second he did, he unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them along with your underwear off your waist. He pushed your legs up, his hands under your thighs, giving him a better view of your quivering pussy. You heard him sigh quietly but happily before leaving the smallest of kisses on your clit. He then ran his tongue up and down your folds slowly, his tongue teasing you every so often by pushing into your entrance. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning and ran your fingers through Wonbin's hair as he spent more time between your legs.

"Oh, mmm, yes," you moaned blissfully. "Right there— Ngh— Yes..."

Your toes curled when Wonbin's nose brushed against your clit. You were slightly disappointed when he moved away from your cunt, but that disappointment quickly disappeared when he pushed two of his slender fingers into you. He fingered you at a slow, steady pace while moving closer to you. He planted his hand right above your shoulder and lowered himself so that your faces were mere centimeters apart.

"You're very sweet, Y/N," he whispered, sending tingles down your spine. "Would you like a taste?"

The words were sweet, but the context was so dirty that you felt your face heat up. You nodded, and Wonbin pressed his lips against yours briefly before lifting his head to see your reaction. Seconds later, he kissed you again, and he kept his lips locked with yours as he moved and curled his fingers inside you.

Just as you felt the tension building inside you, Wonbin added a third finger. He fingered you a little faster, making you whine and moan into his mouth.

"You like that, baby?"

Baby. Oh, fuck.

You gasped and pushed your head backwards into the mattress, your eyes fluttering as pleasure ran through you quickly like electricity. You bit your lower lip to keep from moaning loudly as you came, your cunt relaxing completely after you squirted all over Wonbin's hand and your bed.

You blinked tears and stars from your eyes when Wonbin moved away from you. It was when you saw him lick his fingers did you manage to clear the fog in your vision, your heart thudding wildly upon the sight of him tasting you like that.

"I told you— You taste so sweet," Wonbin chuckled, making your face get even hotter.

You made empty noises— you truly did not know how to respond to him because you were so shocked; what the hell happened to the shy, cute Wonbin you knew, and who was this Wonbin before you (not that you were complaining).

Wonbin started patting his pockets down, and you assumed he was in search of a condom. You reached for the handle on your nightstand and opened the drawer, Wonbin immediately spotting the condoms. He grabbed one, and before he tore it open, he paused and stared at it.

"Is something wrong?" you asked him.

"Huh? No," Wonbin shook his head. "It's nothing."

You knew that it definitely wasn't nothing, but you didn't even ponder the idea for long. Wonbin slipped out of his pants and revealed his hard on. His cock was so slender and pretty just like him, and honestly, your mouth started salivating upon seeing it.

How nice would it be if you could suck him off?

Wonbin wasted no time getting on the bed after rolling the condom on and pinning you down again. He moved so that he was between your legs, his cock brushing against your clit with a fleeting touch, making your body tingle. You bit your lower lip when he intentionally rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds, and you stifled your moan when you felt him enter you slowly. Wonbin, who was holding his breath as he pushed his cock into you, let out a tiny grunt when he was entirely inside you.

"You're so tight," Wonbin said with a slight laugh. "Fuck, you just feel so good, baby..."

Before you could even think about responding, Wonbin kissed you again. He moved his hands to your waist, and his fingers pressed into your skin as he rolled his hips into yours slowly, sensually. You heard his breathing hitch in between kisses every time his waist met yours. You could feel his cock throb inside you, and you could tell he was really trying his best to not cum.

You decided to tease him. You combed your fingers through his hair and rested your hands on the back of his neck, your fingers tickling the nape of his neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and you pushed your body upwards as you kissed him so strongly that even you saw stars.

Wonbin couldn't take it any longer. He sat up and tightened his grip on your waist, his hips hitting yours fast and hard. His breathing got shallower, and his soft groans got higher in pitch as he neared his climax. On his final thrust, he pulled your hips up slightly, the change in angle hitting your G-spot and making you cum immediately. You whimpered and bit your lower lip as white filled your vision, your hands clenching the bed sheets beneath you. Wonbin groaned softly, his cock twitching and quivering as his cum spurt into the condom.

You sighed and relaxed your body after Wonbin pulled out. He got off the bed and threw out the condom before disappearing from your room, confusing the shit out of you. He returned moments later for water for both you and him, and your heart skipped a beat. He handed you the glass and sat on the bed next to you. He rested his hand on the mattress and looked away from you as he drank his water. His attention quickly snapped to you, however, when you placed your hand on top of his.

"You know, when you called me baby," you told him. "I was really surprised."

"Oh— Do you not like that nickname?" Wonbin turned to face you completely, looking slightly guilty.

"No, I really liked it, actually..."

Wonbin's head snapped up, and a smile blossomed on his face. Your heart skipped yet another beat when he set his water aside to tuck stray hairs behind your ear, his thumb lingering on your ear.

"Alright, baby," he said with a playful tone. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

"Next time?" you questioned. "You mean next round."

Grinning, Wonbin took your water from you and set it aside. He laid you down and brushed his nose along your jawline before pressing his lips against yours softly, sweetly, tenderly.

YOU seriously wondered why the journalism department would hold a social on a weeknight. The next morning after you both woke up, Wonbin hurriedly left your place so he could go home and freshen up before heading for his first class— luckily his class was in the afternoon. You, on the other hand, scrambled to get your shit together in time for your morning class.

Truth be told, you couldn't stop thinking about Wonbin all day. You loved how tender and sweet he was with you. Sex with Seonghwa was fun for sure, but you definitely did want a more emotional connection with the person you were sleeping with.

You and Seonghwa agreed that you'd talk about your relationship, and after you did, technically nothing fucking changed. You were still friends, and you still fucked, it was just now he was a little more considerate of your feelings. You didn't feel like a sex toy anymore, but that obviously wasn't enough, though.

A smile lingered on your face as you went to the journalism department later that day to finish up some work done for the club. It was the end of the day, and there wasn't a soul on the floor— not a single soul except for Seonghwa, that is, and you fully ran into him the second you turned the corner.

Seonghwa didn't even give you the time to apologize for running into him. He immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into the records room. Pinning you against the door, he stared right into your eyes, his gaze so sharp that it made you nervous as hell.

"You slept with Wonbin, didn't you?"

Your blood ran cold— you shouldn't have felt guilty, but it was the tone of Seonghwa's voice that made you feel bad.

"I don't know what you mean—"

Seonghwa cut you off by grabbing your face with one hand, his fingers pressing into your cheeks as he pulled your face towards his.

"Spare me the runaround and just tell me the truth," he bit out. "You and I were supposed to meet after the social, but you and Wonbin disappeared. You slept with him, right?"

"...What if I did?"

"What the fuck, Y/N?!"

Seonghwa let go of you and walked away from you while running shaky fingers through his hair. He looked so frustrated, and you, again, felt guilty for no reason.

"I don't see what your fucking problem is, Seonghwa! We're still nothing but friends with benefits, so you really shouldn't care," you couldn't help but snap at him.

He whipped his head towards you, and you could see the exasperation on his face.

"Well, I do fucking care!"

"Because you want ownership over me, or because you like me?"

Seonghwa pressed his lips together. He couldn't find an answer. You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest.

"Face it, Seonghwa. You don't want to share me with anyone, but you don't get to make that choice because I'm not committed to you. Got it?"

On that note, you tried to leave, but Seonghwa was faster. He slammed the door shut with one hand, pinning you against the door yet again. His eyes searched yours as the two of you remained silent for a beat.

"Didn't we talk things through? Did that night mean nothing to you, then?" Seonghwa asked with slight accusation laced in his words.

"Talked things through?" you repeated, dumbfounded. "We're still just friends because you haven't made things official between us!"

"I thought we still didn't want to tell people about us, so I didn't say anything!"

"Telling people about us versus you actually telling me to my face that you want me to be your girlfriend, that you want us to be exclusive, are two separate things, Seonghwa!"

"I thought you knew that we were!"

"How could we be exclusive if neither of us said it out loud?!"

The two of you were trembling angrily at that point. Seonghwa still had you pinned against the door, and it seemed like he refused to budge. Silence filled the space between you, and you were the one to break it.

"Why are you doing this, Seonghwa?" you whispered. "What do you want?"

"I... I don't know," Seonghwa choked out. "Can we even be exclusive at this point?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have feelings for him, don't you? I mean, you wouldn't have fucked him if you didn't..."

"I can have feelings for more than one person, you know," you responded softly.

You held Seonghwa's gaze, your heart rate picking up speed the longer you stared at him. His eyes searched yours, his mouth slightly open as he searched for some words, any words.

"Then again," you decided to provoke him. "You're the one who told me not to catch feelings for you, so maybe I should—"

Seonghwa snapped. He held your throat, his fingers pressing with just the right amount of tension, and he kissed you roughly. He pushed you further into the door if at all possible, his other hand moving to your ass. Lust coursed through your body as you let yourself get swept away by him. You held his arms and kissed him back while gasping every so often.

Letting go of your throat, Seonghwa wrapped both arms around your waist and quickly moved you to one of the tables in the records room. He bent you over the table, your chest pressing into the wood. You yelped in surprise when Seonghwa quickly pulled your bottoms and panties down, leaving your ass and legs exposed. He chuckled and spread your folds, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Look at how wet you are for me," Seonghwa teased you as he pushed his thumbs slightly into your entrance. "I'm telling you, doll, you were made for me."

Seonghwa licked a stripe up your cunt, making you whimper. Suddenly, you covered your mouth as you realized there were probably cameras in the fucking room.

"S-Seonghwa, the cameras!" you hissed nervously.

"There are no cameras in the records room," Seonghwa said matter-of-factly. "You should know that by now. Looks like I need to teach you more lessons, huh?"

You gulped nervously— lessons didn't just mean education when it came to Seonghwa. You tried to push yourself up when you heard him rifling through his pockets in search of a condom, but he immediately pushed you back down, his hand pressing right between your shoulder blades.

"Don't even fucking try, doll face," Seonghwa stated, his voice getting lower. "You're not going anywhere yet."

Seonghwa found the condom and held onto it by biting the corner of the packet. He grabbed both of your arms before holding both your wrists in one hand and behind your back— there was no way you were getting up now.

As Seonghwa pulled his cock out and rolled the condom on, you spotted a pair of eerily familiar headphones on the shelf. You didn't have time to place it, though, because Seonghwa quite literally fucked the thought out of your brain when he swiftly entered you.

"Your pussy is swallowing my cock perfectly, doll," Seonghwa said as he bit back a grunt. Then, chuckling slightly, he continued "You're so tight... Fuck, you feel amazing..."

Your wrists were still firmly in Seonghwa's grasp, and he tugged your arms back slightly, forcing you to arch your back. He was moving at a relatively slow pace, but every time he snapped his hips into yours, your hips hit the table with an insane amount of force, making you cry with slight pain.

Just as you were about to tell Seonghwa that he was hurting you, you heard the door to the records room open. You and Seonghwa were in a blind spot from the entrance, so you had time to quickly separate, but Seonghwa refused to let you go. He covered your mouth with his free hand and shushed you.

The footsteps approached the two of you, and you were about to burst into tears because you were fucking mortified by the situation you were in. You didn't cry when the person turned the corner, but you did feel all the color drain from your face.

"I'm guessing you're here to grab your headphones, Wonbin?" Seonghwa greeted the boy so nonchalantly, acting as if his cock wasn't buried deep inside you.

"I— Oh— Um— Jesus, I—" Wonbin stuttered; he had no idea how to respond to the situation, and you didn't blame him because you had no fucking clue either.

"You look so surprised, Wonbin," Seonghwa laughed. "Is it because we're fucking in the records room, or because I'm the one fucking her?"

You desperately wanted to tell Seonghwa to shut the fuck up, but his hand was firmly planted on your face.

"I'm... I, uh," Wonbin chewed on his lower lip nervously. "I'll pretend I didn't see anything— I just want my headphones..."

"Aw, don't be like that. You should join us. It shouldn't be that weird since you've already slept with her once, right?"

You really wanted to pass away in that moment. You watched the tips of Wonbin's ears turn crimson red. Seonghwa finally uncovered your mouth and pulled out, but he kept you pinned down to the table as he gestured for Wonbin to approach.

"Seonghwa, what the fuck—"

"What?" Seonghwa interrupted you. "You said you can have feelings for more than one person, right? So why can't you be fucked by more than one person? Besides, I want to see for myself why you're so attracted to him."

You let out empty noises in response because how the fuck were you supposed to respond to something like that?

"What do you think, Wonbin? Wanna join in?"

The boy nodded slowly, surprising the shit out of you. You were about to tell him that he doesn't— that he shouldn't— when you saw the tent forming in his pants; and, as all men do, Wonbin was definitely thinking with his dick, and his dick wanted in.

"Great. Hop on the table for me, will ya?"

Wonbin hopped up on the table and tentatively pulled his cock out as Seonghwa instructed. Your mouth involuntarily watered— his cock was just so pretty, especially when it was hard and twitching.

Seonghwa didn't even need to tell you what to do; you did it yourself. You held the base of his cock, Wonbin flinching upon feeling your touch. You looked up at Wonbin, silently asking for approval, and waited for him to nod meekly before taking him into your mouth.

The second your lips went down his cock, Wonbin let out a soft moan. You looked up at him to see his eyes widen, his face getting redder by the development of the situation. To keep himself from moaning out loud again, Wonbin bit his knuckle and sighed deeply, only for his breathing to hitch when you started sucking him properly.

Upon seeing your head bob up and down, Seonghwa rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds and pushed himself back into you, making you moan and gag on Wonbin's cock. Wonbin's entire body jolted when he heard the noise from you. He let out a soft groan when you took all of him into your mouth, making him bite down on his knuckle harder.

You could hear Wonbin's breathing get heavier and whatever moans or groans that slipped past his finger get higher. You looked up to see his eyelids fluttering as he neared his orgasm. It was you hollowing out your cheeks that did it for him. With his free hand, he held your head in place before squeezing his eyes shut and cumming in your mouth.

"Be a good girl and swallow it," Seonghwa leaned over you and whispered in your ear. "We don't want to leave a mess here, now do we?"

And so, you swallowed Wonbin's cum. He covered his face in embarrassment, so you hit him with, "Now we're even."

He opened his mouth, presumably to ask what you were talking about, only for the realization to hit— he licked his fingers last night. Yep, you were even.

After hopping off the table, Seonghwa tossed a condom packet to Wonbin. He didn't have to say a single word for the younger man to know what to do. He ripped open the packet and put it on while Seonghwa moved you so that you were standing upright, his cock still inside you.

You were sandwiched between the beautiful men when Wonbin approached you. He lifted your leg and held your thigh to give him better access to your already full cunt while you held onto his shoulders. Before you could express any thoughts, he kissed you. Even though he distracted you, you still felt his cock push into you, and your hold on his shoulders got stronger. Both men stopped moving, allowing you to get somewhat comfortable with both cocks stuffed inside you and filling you up. Yet, the second they started moving, your cunt clenched, both of them flinching with the added pressure.

"Oh my God," Wonbin breathed out.

"Shit, I almost came," Seonghwa murmured.

They moved slowly, and to keep you relaxed before you snapped their dicks off, Wonbin kissed you. He rubbed your ear slowly, making every little movement so much more sensual. Whenever he bucked his hips up, he grunted slightly into the kiss.

Seonghwa decided to push his hands up your shirt as he fucked you from behind, and they went under your bra before massaging your breasts. You exhaled blissfully when his fingers toyed with your nipples, the overstimulation starting to get to you.

"Hey, don't just focus on him," Seonghwa said as he pressed a kiss on the back of your neck.

You broke off your chain of kisses with Wonbin and turned your head towards Seonghwa. You moved your hand to Seonghwa's head, your fingers getting tangled in his locks as you kissed him while you moved your other hand from Wonbin's shoulder to his neck.

When Wonbin's grip on your thigh got tighter, you knew that he was close again, so you turned back towards him and kissed him again, his gyrations getting faster.

"I'm— Fuck— I'm gonna cum," Wonbin uttered.

Before you got the chance to say anything, Seonghwa turned your head towards him and kissed you, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his own thrusts got rougher. He didn't need to say anything, either— you knew he was close, too.

Both men snapped their waists into you, driving their cocks as far as they could into you, the two of them groaning and muttering profanities as their cocks throbbed inside you. They both remained motionless for a beat before Seonghwa pulled out first, Wonbin shortly thereafter. You whined slightly; now that you were no longer stuffed, you felt empty, and you needed them back inside you. Plus, they had yet to make you cum.

You for sure thought they were going to replace their condoms or at least eat you out, so you were completely dumbfounded when you saw them straightening out their clothes and fixing their hair.

"What the hell do you two think you're doing?" you irritatedly asked.

"...Getting dressed?" they both answered at the same time, making them both look at each other with slight surprise.

"We're not done here! What about me?"

Both men froze and blinked at you for a split moment before Wonbin approached you from one side and Seonghwa stood right in front of you.

"You're right, we do have unfinished business," Seonghwa murmured in agreement. "What do you think we should do, Wonbin?"

"Let's go back to her place and pick up where we left off," Wonbin suggested before pressing a kiss against your temple. "After all, there's a whole box of condoms left in that drawer.

Oh shit— What the hell have you done?

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