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The Guy Next Door | hhj

❝𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞?❞

↳ Interim chapter 2/2 of The Guy Next Door: should be read after chapter 6. Interims are optional therefore not crucial to the main storyline but do provide extra context and background on side characters, their arcs and sub-plots.

↳ Changbin x transfem Felix focused, other characters included/referenced 

↳ 10.7k

! Strong language, sports science major/rich boy Changbin, porn star Felix, transfem Felix uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy, pansexual Changbin, angst and tension, background/history on Changbin, frank discussion on transitioning and surrounding issues therein, frequent reference to pornography (trans porn specifically and issues therein), pining, alcohol consumption, explicit sexual content, making out, oral sex (m. rec), face fucking, cum swallowing, hugely under-negotiated kink, Felix does a really dumb thing, d/s dynamics, subspace and whiting out, unintentional aftercare neglect, this chapter is a lesson in the importance of communication do not try this at home, adult themes throughout !

「suitable for 18+ readers only」  「Chapter 1」  「Contents List」  「© February 2023 by jl-micasea-fics」

Changbin sometimes wonders where he’d be if he wasn’t in Saint Brides.

Abroad somewhere, perhaps, relaxing on a sunburnt beach as warm waves lick his toes. Maybe exploring Europe, backpacking through cultural capitals. Maybe touring Asia, island hopping or mountain climbing or otherwise participating in any extreme sport that would have his adrenaline pumping.

But that’s all about he can do; he can wonder, he can dream, he can pretend that his future is as unknown as everyone else’s. He can try to forget that he’s not beholden to certain expectations laid on him from the minute he was born, but really, he never will.

Make no mistake; Changbin is grateful for the things he has. His life is good, comfortable, he wants for nothing and as a result finds himself with never a dull moment to waste. Contrary to what might constitute a cliché for rich families, Changbin knows his father to be a good man. A man with principles, self-made and honest. A man that wants only the best for his brood and that worked himself to the bone in the business of merging and acquisition to ensure said best.

Changbin finds pride in being the eldest son of a man like that, and knows how lucky he is that he can make such a claim; certainly when he compares his home life to that of his dearest friends, the gratitude for his circumstances is abundantly clear. His childhood was the ideal of storybooks, his adolescence supported and nurtured, his growing into the person he is now a gentle process by the guiding hands of his parents.

And so, he supposes that ultimately, his future is a small price to pay for it all. It’s expected of him to succeed his father in taking over the family business, to run it with the same level of respect and care that the man himself did. He’s never abjectly hated the idea of stepping into those shoes, but neither has he found himself giddy at the prospect.

It is simply a stated fact, a truth that he knows to be. It hardly matters that his true passion lies with sports and physical fitness. Indeed, it hardly matters that he’s studying towards it now, because even with degree in hand and all the motivation in the world, he’ll be unable to make proper use of it.

His parents tell him frequently that that he’s free to do what he wants, how he wants, when he wants it, until such a time as he’s required to take up the Seo mantle. Thus, he decided to go to university, to do what everyone else his age was doing in the hopes it might make him feel a little more like them.

Changbin still believes his falling into step the tripod to be an unthinkable stroke of luck, their friendship feeling so very eternal to him now. It was through no more than being approached by a grinning blonde kid after the first induction tutorial of the year that rendered him subsequently unable to shake him. Many months after the event, Changbin asked him what it was inspired him to approach in the first place, to which Jisung informed that it was because Changbin was the only one to not laugh at the snide joke the professor cracked on the blonde’s late arrival to the lecture. A little baffled by the answer but accepting all the same (Changbin didn’t laugh because he simply didn’t find singling out funny), it was no effort to quickly warm to the eccentric rainbow coloured catastrophe that was Han Jisung.

It was no surprise when, a few weeks after that, Jisung pulled much the same stunt with the lonely girl in the library; a veritable deer in the headlights if Changbin had ever seen one. Less prepared to slot herself into the dynamic they already had, her icy persona took a little longer to thaw, yet even the most solidified of temperaments will eventually melt under Jisung’s scorching persistence.

Changbin worries about her. It’s natural that he should, of course, and he doesn’t let himself feel bad for wanting to text her every hour on the hour if only to ensure she’s functioning enough to string together a response.

While he never could have known the whole extent of the abuse she suffered, Changbin saw signs of something that didn’t sit rightly with him. She carried herself like her very existence was a nuisance, lingering always several paces behind until Jisung would drag her along in equal step. She would never speak unless spoken to, never add anything of value to conversations unless thoroughly relaxed enough to do so. She would flinch when her phone went off, check the time every five minutes, make increasingly elaborate excuses after class to avoid hanging out, and eventually Changbin supposed that enough was enough.

Enlightening Jisung as to his suspicions on her home life wasn’t so much an enlightenment as it was confirmation for both that their mutual concerns couldn’t be unfounded; not if they both shared them.

Even with desire to outright approach her with it, Changbin was perpetually aware of overstepping. The friendship was still relatively new, the ties fragile with potential to snap under distrust. And so, he had little choice but to believe that she was a grown woman in her own right; if she was in such dire a position as to require serious help, she would surely seek it out. Changbin had to trust that she would.

She needed friends, he realised. Not a force of authority or nature to dig to the root of her mental scars and peel them clean from her person, for doing such a thing would only open bloody wounds and negate whatever healing she had so far achieved. No. She needed a network of support to fall back on, people her own age that wouldn’t brand her a pariah or sympathise to piteous degrees, but rather that would simply treat her as though she was one of them.

It was Jisung that affectionately knighted them ‘the tripod’, three legs of the same unified being, the bonds of which were stronger than any iron-clad friendship; if one metaphorical leg were kicked out by poor circumstance or unwanted angst, all three of them would feel the pain and thusly fall. Changbin hoped she understood that the sentiment applied to everything.

Despite all this and at the behest of his own principles, however, Changbin couldn’t resign himself to total inaction. Whatever he could do to ease her anxious plight, he would, and so he took quiet note of her routines; nine pm weekday curfews, midnights on the weekend. Ensuring she was always returned home accordingly spared her from the exhaustion of fabricating an excuse every time, and while it was never outwardly stated that the pair were deliberately accommodating her circumstances, Changbin felt the appreciation in the small things. The way she became closer, warmer, more at ease the longer she remained in their company, and before Changbin really realised it, he was forced to ask himself questions as to the nature of his feelings.

Did he… love her?

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