#I LOVE YOU NA JAEMIN

[dokyccis]

HOLY SHITTTTT?????? 1K NOTES ON MY JAEMIN DRABBLE!!! THANK U SM IM SO HAPPYYYY TYSMSM YALL REALLY ;( !!!! 💗💗

[foxy-kitsune]

NA JAEMIN???!?!?!!!?!?!?! WITH THE BROWN HAIR??!?!?!!?!?!? AND THE WHITE SLEEVELESS SHIRT!?!?!?!?!??!?!?! HELP?!?!?!?!?!?!?!???!!?

[jwisun]

WE MISS YOU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hi im so sorry writers block has been beating my ass so bad + traveling + concerts + deathly illness + work but heres SOMETHING heres some stuff in my social maker i havent posted just misc stuff enjoy until i find my brain again <3 (this is literally all ive managed to write in like a month I HATE BEING AN ADULT!!!!)

[averyfromzero]

"breathe on me"

pairing: na jaemin x male reader summary: you live in a dorm with your best friends jeno, jaemin and jisung - with a friends with benefits deal with the first two. on a sleepless night, jaemin comes to your room looking for some action. notes: canon universe, smut, friends with benefits, reader is also an idol, cockwarming, jaemin is a top! *you can consider this to be placed in the same universe as "lazy sunday"!

words: 1.6k

Living with Jeno, Jaemin and Jisung led to the four of you growing close together until you were all each other's best friends. Despite not being part of the group, you clicked with the NCT Dream members so quickly that soon it did feel like you were all part of the same team. While you shared a room with Jeno, Jaemin and Jisung shared another.

After just a few months living together, you, Jeno and Jaemin ended up building a friends with benefits deal with each other during a period in which your schedules were so stressful that you guys ended up turning to each other for some relief. While Jisung isn't a part of the deal (he's straight!), he knows. (Ok, maybe he only found out about it after catching you guys in a threesome in the living room once... He was traumatized)

This time, you were sleeping peacefully on your bed. Jeno was also quietly snoring away on his own bed on the other side of the room. That was until a certain intruder comes into the room.

Silently, Jaemin opens your room door and sneaks in, wearing only pajama pants while his toned chest was on display. He tried clicking the door closed silently as to not wake anyone.

Swiftly, he makes his way to your bed and leans in close to you, hand on your shoulder. He calls your name in whispers while gently shaking you until you start to awaken.

With sleepy serrated eyes, you turn slightly to look at whoever interrupted your sleep. In the dark, you notice Jaemin's pretty face looking down on you. "Hm?"

"I can't sleep", he whispers. "Can I sleep with you?"

Instead of giving him a response, you move on your bed to make space for your friend to join you. You feel your back against the wall and wait for Jaemin to pull up the covers and crawl into bed.

You watch as he comes close and notice how he's not wearing any shirt. His chest is getting so toned, and his shoulders are already so big. You were loving this new buff era your friend was getting into.

As Jaemin settled on the bed, he moved his right arm around you and motioned you to come closer. You lied your head on his chest and felt as his arm wrapped around you, hand moving under your shirt to caress your back. You hummed in content.

Getting yourself more comfortable, you positioned your leg over your friend's and snuggled closer, using your right hand to draw circles around Jaemin's plump chest.

After a few seconds, you noticed how Jaemin's hand was moving suspiciously down your back, getting closer and closer to your sleeping shorts. Simultaneously, you felt on your leg as something grew bigger and harder under your friend's pants.

Ah, right. That's what he came here for.

"Jaemin."

"Hm?"

"Wanna fuck?"

You look as Jaemin slightly nods and drives his hand under the fabric of your shorts, grabbing a handful of your meaty ass and squeezing.

Mimicking his move, you also slip your hand under his pajama pants, feeling the wiry pubic hair he keeps tidy before feeling the hardening meat and wrapping your fingers around it.

Taking advantage of the fact that you have your face on his bare chest, you start sucking on Jaemin's nipple while you stroke his 7-incher to full hardness. He moans at the wet sound of your lips and tongue around his nipple.

Once Jaemin's cock is fully hard, you decide to slide down his torso until you're facing his tented-up pajama pants. You slide down the fabric to his mid-thigh and sees your friend's rock hard cock spring up in the dark, tip shining with precum.

Wrapping your hand around Jaemin's shaft again, you move your head closer to it and wrap your wet lips around the tip, tasting his salty precum and the taste of his milky skin. Jaemin tasted delicious.

You heard as Jaemin moaned and brought his right hand to the back of your head, motioning you to move on his dick. Giving in, you started to bob your head up and down his hard cock, thoroughly wetting it.

After a few minutes of endless sucking, you felt Jaemin pull you gently off his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to the tip of his member.

You moved on the bed so you were face-to-face with your friend again and leaned in, connecting your spit-covered lips with his. Jaemin was eager and immediately darted his tongue inside your mouth, hand on the back of your head as you two made out intensely.

When you felt the need to pull back to breathe, you promptly adjusted your position so you were laying on your back to let Jaemin know you were ready for the next step.

Jaemin sat up and moved until he was sitting in between yours legs, using his strong hands to part them so he could fit his hips against yours perfectly. Before anything else happened, he leaned in again to make out with your for a few more minutes, still intense from arousal. You loved how eager Jaemin was whenever he was horny, acting all dominant while still being gentle.

While making out heatedly, you felt as Jaemin started to pull down your sleeping shorts along with your boxer briefs until you were naked from the waist down. The cold air-con air in the room hit your crotch and you felt a chill running down your legs.

Breathless once again, Jaemin pulled off and sat up in a way so he could remove his own pajama pants, leaving himself completely bare. Even in the dark, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of your friend's hot body in front of you. Gorgeous face, strong arms, plump chest, defined abs, and a big juicy cock. Your best friend was one sexy motherfucker.

Knowing you had already been fucked by Jeno earlier, Jaemin didn't bother taking out the lube and prepping you too long. All he did was ask for you to suck on two of his fingers and then entered them in your ass for a minute before you were ready.

You watched as he spit on his hand and stroked his cock with it for a few seconds before holding it still and pressing it against your awaiting hole. Didn't take much to go all the way in as you were already used to it. You heard Jaemin groan once he was completely inside.

Worried that you might've woken up your other best friend sleeping on the other side of the room, you and Jaemin turned to check. Jeno was still sound asleep. You didn't care if he watched or not (it already happened multiple times before anyway), but you didn't want to bother him in his sleep and risk your friend waking up grumpy the next morning.

Relieved, you two faced each other again and you felt as Jaemin slowly pulled out before slamming his hips against yours again. He was a pro at it, he knew how to slam you hard enough to make you feel it but not enough to make too much noise. He smirked as you reacted to his strong thirst.

Jaemin had his hands on each side of your head so you had the privileged view of his huge biceps flexing to keep himself up while he thrusted in and out of your hole eagerly (but careful not to make a fuss). His chest and abs were starting to glisten a bit as sweat formed over his milky soft skin. It was a sight to behold.

After a few minutes of continuous thrusting, Jaemin started to feel his arms getting tired from holding himself up in that position. Pulling out of you momentarily, your friend motioned you to lay on your side as he positioned himself behind you and promptly made his way inside you again, continuing to fuck you right away.

You couldn't help but groan in pleasure once Jaemin started to hit your prostate repeatedly, hugging you from behind as he chased his own orgasm as well. You didn't bother stroking yourself to completion and just held onto Jaemin's strong arms that were holding you tight as you waited for him to make you cum untouched as he'd already done several times before.

You could tell Jaemin was getting close to his orgasm once his thrusts became less rhythmic and a bit more sloppy, slamming against your butt with more impact and less worried about not making too much noise.

You felt as he leaned in closer and his face was against your shoulder, heavy breathing blowing on your skin. You could hear his low grunting each time he thrusted in with force and tightened his grip around you.

It didn't take long before you felt your cock twitch and a rush of pleasure run up and down your body as you climaxed. While at it, you involuntarily clenched your hole and drew a long groan out of Jaemin, who reached his high right then and there, cumming inside you as he pressed his nose against your neck as to try holding back a louder moan while his legs trembled slightly at the intense orgasm.

You two stayed still for a couple minutes, breathing heavily as you recovered from your intense climaxes. You felt as Jaemin lazily left a few wet kisses on your neck and muttered out a deep "thanks" before he reached down for the blanket that had been tossed around unknowingly during sex to cover the two of you back again.

Once the room was silent again, you two noticed as Jeno snored softly on his bed on the other side of the room, letting you know he never once woke up while Jaemin pounded into you. Getting comfortable, you two drifted off into a peaceful slumber while Jaemin was still balls deep inside your ass and kept his arms around you.

[sinisxtea]

I CANT STOP REWATCHING THIS HELPPDDJKSKD I NEEF THEM 🥹🥹🥹🥹

[baeseungcheolie]

I would suck his soul through his dick if he gives me the chance. Call me a semem demon because i want him to nut on my face :D

[echo-of-ekko]

when nct dream shot the Go mv, they had nothing but a vision and bicycles…

and it still goes so hard

[jammingjaem]

ticketing for l.a is going to be helllll, but you will see me SEATED. AGAIN. for nct dream. 😋

[127luvr]

La La Love

Na Jaemin x Male Reader

In which Jaemin has a day off and decides to cram three dates into one

It’s an early dinner.

Barely half past five when the two of you finally set down your silverware as a sign that you were done. Still, it was a good break from all the walking and shopping you had gotten done earlier in the day. Exchanging gifts with Jaemin and dressing him up in all of the clothes you wanted—it was fun. You missed being able to be a normal couple—not worried about being recognized in public—or having to wait until his promotions and tour were over.

Jaemin was worth it.

Worth the months of waiting and longing. Worth the sleepless nights and lonely mornings wrapped in bedsheets that no longer smelled like his cologne from consistent washing. Worth the short phone calls and late replies to your messages. He was always grateful for your understanding nature—always apologetic when he finally had time to see you and have proper conversations about everything and nothing. It’s why he insisted on going out today.

“You’re not tired?” You slide your hand across the table, avoiding the drinks in the way as you place it on top of Jaemin’s closed fist. He relaxes his hand, turning it over to intertwine his fingers with yours. You let a small smile tug on your lips as you feel the heat radiate from him. He replies by shaking his head, squeezing your hand firmly. “So what’s next on the agenda?”

“Amusement park?” There’s a small grimace that covers your face for a split second—the thought of having to walk around again and feel obligated to get on rides with Jaemin left a funny feeling in your stomach. You thought he didn’t catch it—that he catches the smile you keep on your face as you nod enthusiastically. But he knows you better than that. He knows that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes when you’re not being genuine. “We don’t have to get on the rides or do anything too tiring. I was thinking that we play the games in the booth things and buy an overpriced funnel cake. Go home and crash, you know?”

“I’d like that a lot, Jaem.”

It was clear from the beginning how much Jaemin had planned for today. He knew which store to stop at for you when you went shopping. He knew just the route to walk to get free samples and just the drive to take when going to your favorite restaurant. What he didn’t plan was how invested he was in playing the booth games that were along the outside of the amusement park you frequented.

You watched as he shifted his posture, balancing the basketball in his right hand while squinting his eyes. He was at the final hoop—the tallest one along the end. You lost count of how many shots he had taken—how many small plushies he had won for you but he wouldn’t quit until he had gotten you the biggest one they had. You share a look with the employee, arms full of the bears Jaemin got for you from every booth there was. Finally, you see him take the shot—eyes wide with disbelief as it hits the net, barely missing the hoop. You shake your head at him lightheartedly, turning the ends of your lips down to greet him with a silly face.

“One more try.”

“Jaemin, do you even have more ca—” Before he lets you finish he’s already grabbing another ball, handing the employee one too many bills before absolutely winging it. He’s confident this time—full lips slightly parted and feet shoulder width apart when he makes it in. He turns to look at you, crazed eyes wide with excitement when he runs towards you. His arms bulge out of his shirt as he lifts you up to spin you. You make sure to tighten your grip on the plushies in your arms so none of them fell to the floor. “I love you so much.”

Jaemin carries your plushies the rest of the night, leaving you with the big bunny he won for you.

The two of you end up at a lonely food stall, sharing a plate of dessert that was long forgotten as you let Jaemin talk your ear off about his favorite stop. You loved hearing him ramble about his members—his thoughts—his favorite songs at the moment. Moments like these were the ones you loved looking back on when he was gone.

Calming, intimate and comfortable.

[djcaracalhisshiss]

jaemin literally said NO TO CAPITALISM BECAUSE HE SENT US THIS instead of giving it to the company for another phoca slavery

[yueisyum]

omg i love the look alike teaser so much!

is it okay to ask when will the full version be out? 🥺

Thank you so much!

And the full version of ‘look alike’ should be out before Friday…? hopefully- I’m working on a Valentine’s Day special for Jeno, so I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to work on it. But thank you for asking!

Specific date- February 17?

[johnnysuhbmarine]

You lot are insane! - thank you so so much for 1k notes on this. Truly I’m speechless my heart is so full

Too Good to be Fake

Pairing: Jaemin x reader Description: If there was one thing Na Jaemin was known for, it was being a fuckboy with no interest in commitment. If there was one thing you knew him for, it was being your best friend…and long-time crush. When his group of guy friends gets tired of the roster Jaemin seems to be running through, they propose a deal - they’d each give him $100 if he could settle down with one girl for at least three months. But that was easy money to Jaemin. After all, he could just fake-date you. Content warnings: swearing, talk about sex, mentions/consumption of alcohol, a panic attack (not the reader), one punch gets thrown, reader has a somewhat bad relationship with her parents, their obliviousness to the other’s feelings makes you want to slam your head against a wall, some angst but it’s mainly through unaddressed fluff. Please let me know if I’ve missed anything. Word count: 31,947 A/n: I didn’t know I could write this much, but after making my smau, I was ITCHING for written work ahahahhahahahaha. Please enjoy, though who am I to tell you what to do…as always, feedback would be greatly appreciated. I love you :) also because I must tag @fullsunstrawberry in everything I do...here you go - I love you the mostest!

The semester was in full swing for just over a month, and Haechan was already tired of the amount of girls Jaemin had brought over to their apartment. The first two years of university cemented Jaemin’s image as resident fuckboy, but no one cared about the fact that they couldn’t keep him for more than a night because he was hot enough to make the one night worth it. Similarly, Jaemin couldn’t care less about being labeled a fuckboy - at the end of the day, all it meant was that he was able to get his dick wet with no added pressure from the expectation to ever commit; the concept seemed like heaven to him.

However, the start of junior year had his best friends thinking it was time for a change. As Jaemin sat down in one of their usual cafés for lunch, all eyes were on him. “Alright, Jaemin, we figure you’ve had your fun for the past two years now,” Chenle said with a gleam in his eyes. 

“Too much fun…” Haechan adds under his breath.

Jaemin looked around at the group with furrowed brows. “Whatever is going on, can we stop it and just have our coffee and sandwiches like normal? Why am I being targeted for the amount of fun I’m having? You’ve all had your fair share of fun, too.” 

Jeno let out a small laugh at Jaemin’s defense. “Yeah, but we aren’t nicknamed the campus fuckboy. Plus, we’ve all been in actual relationships during our time in college.” 

Jaemin’s face drops, no longer interested at all in the conversation they were clearly wanting to have. “I could be in a relationship if I wanted to be, I just don’t want to,” he’s quick to mutter in reply. 

“Why not?” Renjun asks, raising his eyebrows in wait.

Jaemin lets out a scoff. “All that love and commitment is stupid. You guys put so much effort into your previous relationships and yet, we’re all currently sitting at this table single. There’s no one who makes me want to even try being in a relationship. Why would I want to risk wasting all that effort on someone?”

His six best friends eyed each other around the table, either not buying it or not caring. “Look man,” Mark starts, getting Jaemin to turn his attention over to him. “Regardless of how you feel about love, Haechan is tired of listening to you and whatever girl you bring home that night…and he’s especially tired of it always being a different girl to walk in on him while he’s singing in the kitchen making breakfast. So, to maybe help him out, and also to test your ability because honestly, I don’t know if any of us think you’re capable…in the nicest way possible, of course. We wanna propose a bet- or a deal is probably the better word for it.” Jaemin shoots his gaze over to the rest of them, but no one bore a look of amusement, they were all curiously locked in. “If you can get a girlfriend and settle down for at least three months, we’ll give you $600.”

Well originally, Jaemin had no interest in any part of this, but if everything worked out the way his brain was planning it, that $600 could potentially be easy cash…not to mention a lot of it.

“I’m in,” he pipes up immediately, truthfully stunning his best friends at the table. Nevertheless, they all shake on it, and then Jaemin only has one thing to do…after finishing his coffee and sandwich, of course.

One day later, you get a text from Jaemin. Free to catch up today? Your cheeks blush warmly at the message. It wasn’t anything special, but after being glued to each other’s sides during high school, college saw you and Jaemin having considerably less time for each other; so it was always nice to see you were still a thought in his mind because truly, you missed your best friend like no other. 

Free to catch up everyday :)) You respond, and Jaemin’s reply comes instantaneously.

Perfect ;) meet you at the café in two hours

You check the clock before mapping out how you would spend all your time in between now and then, quickly deciding most of it should be directed towards making yourself look presentable, seeing as you’ve done nothing but rot in bed all morning.

Fast forward two hours and you were already sitting at one of the café tables when the bell rang as Jaemin walked through the door. He scans the inside before his eyes find you and he lights up. “Hi, best friend!” He says overenthusiastically as he pulls out the chair across from you. You furrow your brows at his tone, not to mention his usage of ‘best friend,’ when you think you remember Jaemin calling you that only once before when you were both still in high school, and had since never labeled you like that again - not that it was an incorrect label, but one that he typically didn’t make a huge deal about unless…

“Oh, god,” you start sarcastically. “What mess did you get yourself into now?”

“Hey!” Jaemin shoots back in mock hurt, moving a hand over his heart as if you’ve just shot him. You let out a light laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Sorry, Jaem, please continue.”

He immediately ducks his head to face his lap, his tone bearing a fraction of the force it previously had. “Okay so, I got myself into a mess.” You can’t help the genuine laugh that escapes you as you shake your head. Jaemin whips his head up to face you in response, but as you manage to stop your laughter, all you can do is meet his gaze with a softness in your eyes that perfectly balanced the playful smirk on your lips.

“I’ve missed you a lot, you know,” you respond, and Jaemin rolls his lips inward to try and stop the smile as he directs his gaze somewhere off to the side. 

“Yeah, hoping you’re still thinking that after I explain,” he replies hesitantly, and your face falls in an instant.

“You got me into a mess?!” You ask in disbelief, and Jaemin lets out a light sigh.

“Not yet, but that’s kind of the goal,” he answers, scrunching up his facial features as he waits for your reprimanding. Though it never comes, and instead, you speak plainly through a sigh.

“An explanation needs to come out of your mouth in three, two-”

Jaemin curls himself into a ball as best he can while sitting in the café chair, wanting some kind of physical defense before explaining himself in a rush. “I need us to fake date for three months so can you please please please be my fake girlfriend?” When he doesn’t get coffee thrown at him, he takes a moment to unfurl himself and look over at you again, his gaze met with your indifferent expression. 

“Why?” You ask neutrally, and it seems to finally hit Jaemin that you were still the same sane, comforting presence you always had been, even if the two of you hadn’t properly hung out in over a year. He settles more decidedly into his chair, though he still frames his words through a lens of embarrassment, figuring that might be the best way to get you to agree - if you knew he knew he was stupid.

“$600 and to prove something to my friends,” he replies, his words light but his demeanor dead serious.

“And why me?” You toss back, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes as he throws his gaze off to the side again with a scoff. 

“Cause every other girl I know has a crush on me and it’d make this very weird. I’m not trying to actually be in a relationship. That’s the last thing I want.” His words this time are firm enough to match his demeanor, and it has you taking a sip of your coffee to fight back the awkwardness you would’ve otherwise choked on. 

“...Right,” you say in agreement, because out of all the times you could come clean about your huge crush on your best friend, right after he tells you that he doesn’t want a relationship is probably the worst time to do so. 

“So?” Jaemin inquires hopefully, snapping you out of your thoughts. You flick your gaze up to him before immediately darting it back to your coffee on the table, one of your hands messing with the straw absentmindedly. Then you give in, because you suck at saying ‘no’ to your best friend.

“...Fine, but then we’re making a contract,” you say plainly, swirling the ice around in your americano. Jaemin lets out something like a laugh, shaking his head.

“Y/n, you’re taking this so seriously-” He starts, but you whip your head back up to him in an instant, cutting him off with sincerity. 

“They’ll see right through it if we don’t,” you state, and you watch Jaemin’s adam's apple bob up and down in his throat as he swallows awkwardly. 

He shakes out of it before putting his hands up in defeat. “Okay, whatever. Go ahead,” he replies, disinterested. You roll your eyes, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from your backpack. Then you get to writing, because you were gonna need to set some intense boundaries if you were hoping to make it out of this alive. 

“Alright, I think this should be good for right now,” you say after a few minutes, sliding the piece of paper his way. He takes one glance at it before letting out a laugh and directing his gaze back to you with raised brows.

“‘No kissing?’ I don’t mean to alarm you, but that’s actually the quickest way for them to see right through it,” he quips. You run your fingers through your hair awkwardly as you dodge his gaze, finally nodding your head with a sigh. 

“Okay fine, we can change it. No kissing unless they bring it up or get suspicious. Good?” You ask, finally looking up at him again. He lets an amused smile paint its way across his lips as he stares at you across the table.

“Ha, we’ll keep it for now,” he agrees before turning his attention back to the paper and looking over the next thing you wrote. “‘No weird nicknames?’” He reads, popping his head back up to look at you for clarification. You roll your eyes, slightly embarrassed. 

“Yeah, like sugar, pumpkin, honey, buttercup, sweetie, sweetheart, cutie pie, baby, babe, darling-” You’re cut off by a genuine laugh from Jaemin, helping you realize you’ve missed the sound of it a lot, and not at all helping the awkward situation you’ve gotten yourself into. 

“Okay, you’re just naming every pet name imaginable,” he counters as though you were crazy. 

You roll your lips inward, hesitating on how to respond before opting with a near-whisper. “I don’t like them,” you admit quietly, and Jaemin’s demeanor falls from playful to understanding. He opens his mouth to reply but closes it again before any words get out, instead taking another moment to think. 

“They’re gonna expect me to call you something,” he finally says, speaking as though it were an apology. 

You sigh, knowing he wasn’t lying. Idly messing with your hands, you reply quietly. “...are they gonna expect me to call you something, too?” You ask, and Jaemin contemplates with a sorry nod.

“Yeah, probably. Look, you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with, and if that’s just ‘Jaem,’ that’s fine.”

A more lenient answer than you were expecting, you shoot your head up to look back at him again, though your brows slightly furrow as you address the part he didn’t. “What about you?”

Jaemin lets out a soft sigh. “How about I just limit my usage of pet names, and I won’t call you anything food-related,” he suggests lightly, figuring those nicknames having made up your first seven examples meant you hated them the most. You roll your eyes but a smile crosses your face regardless because he was right, after all…and caring enough to actually realize that.

“I can live with that,” you relent, and a big grin comes back onto Jaemin’s face at the progress. He moves his attention back towards the contract, but immediately is whipping his gaze back to you in hurt. 

“Why can’t I be the one to break it off?” He pouts, and you have half a mind to laugh, but you know he’s serious. 

“If you date me for exactly three months and then break up with me, no matter how believable we make it, they’re either going to know it was set up or they’re going to assume you learned nothing and probably not give you the money,” you explain, and Jaemin’s pout turns into an impressed nod.

“You have a point…” He breathes out, causing you to smirk.

“I know.” 

He bites on his bottom lip, deep in thought before turning back to you again. “We probably shouldn’t date for exactly three months then, either,” he adds, and you flash your eyebrows in recognition.

“That’s also true,” you say before putting together a calendar in your head. “Well, if today’s September 27th, three months is December 27th, so…we could have New Year’s Eve be our last night together?” You suggest awkwardly. Though, when you look back up towards Jaemin, he’s putting your timeline together with a nod.

“Works for me,” he cedes, scribbling your end date somewhere off to the side before continuing to scan down the list. His next question comes with the very last bullet point on the contract. “‘Come home with me for Christmas dinner?’” He reads before looking up at you in confusion. You shake your head with a laugh.

“Well, you didn’t think I’d do this for nothing in return, did you?”

Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement. “Okay…so why Christmas dinner?” He asks, and you drop your gaze back to your coffee. 

“My family keeps riding my ass about not having a boyfriend. If you come back with me and pretend to be my boyfriend there, too, then even when we end things, they’ll at least be off my case for a while,” you admit, embarrassment tainting your voice before you rush to make the request sound more appealing. “And it’s not actual Christmas dinner! It’s that first weekend after finals week. You remember the big dinner we always had with other family friends and all that,” you drag off with an awkward laugh.

“Okay,” Jaemin agrees immediately, and you look back up at him in shock.

“Really? You’re agreeing to that?” You question, but he just shrugs his shoulders. 

“Y/n, you’re getting me $600, the least I can do is one dinner with your family. Besides, they’re practically my second set of parents. I’m pretty sure I had at least a hundred dinners with them during high school,” he jokes, and the tension in your shoulders falls. You guys were really doing this…all of this. The two of you left the café and parted ways soon after agreeing to the terms of the contract, Jaemin feeling $600 richer already with how easy this was going to be.

Jaemin picked you up from class on the first day you would be meeting his friends, five days after the two of you signed your contract to fake-date. He greets you with an easy smile outside of your classroom door. “Hey, you ready?” He asks, and you send a nervous smile back up at him. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” you reply with a laugh. He flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement, feeling much the same way seeing as this was probably the least conventional thing he’s ever done. 

He leads you outside and towards the guys’ regular lunch spot at one of the tables set up in the campus commons. Jaemin had told his friends beforehand that he had gone and gotten himself a girlfriend and thus, to start the three month timer, and they were the ones who begged him to bring you to one of the lunches so they could meet you, and now here you were - walking casually towards the lunch table with Jaemin…too casually, Chenle noticed, because you weren’t even holding hands. He keeps quiet, but lets an easy smirk come across his face as you and Jaemin sit down next to each other. 

“Alright, guys,” Jaemin starts as the rest of the friend group pins their full attention on you. “This is y/n. My girlfriend,” he says with a smile. The label sends ice through your veins. You could not believe Na Jaemin was introducing you as his girlfriend…it didn’t matter that the label was fake, the words sounded real coming out of his mouth. You turn your head to look at him, as if to get some kind of confirmation that it really was Jaemin next to you, calling you his girlfriend. By the time your gaze reaches him, he’s already looking over at you with a cheesy grin, nudging your side playfully with his arm and getting you to relax a little. 

The guys go around introducing themselves, but as they make their full way around the table, Jeno immediately speaks up.

“So, how did the two of you get together?” He asks curiously. A valid question, which is why the guys all lean forward in interest, because of course they would be dying to know how their fuckboy best friend got an actual girlfriend rather than a hookup. It was a horrible question though, because it was one you forgot would ever come up, and you had no game plan to go about answering this. Though, it seemed all you had to worry about was keeping your eyes from going wide, because Jaemin did have a game plan for this, and he answered smoothly.

“I just asked her out,” he says with a shrug. “It’s always been so easy with y/n, I take it for granted most of the time. Every time I’m with her, I’m reminded that it takes no effort to breathe, that I’m standing on solid ground. We met up for coffee the other day and she said she missed me and I-” He falters for a moment, and you finally bring your gaze up from your lap to face Jaemin, just to see him shake his head as if he were breaking himself out of a nostalgia trip. “I wanted to hear that again and again,” he finally says seriously, and you can’t stop the smile from reaching your face. “So, though now it just sounds embarrassing saying it out loud, I straight up asked her to be my girlfriend right after that,” he adds through a laugh. “I had been waiting for the butterflies that everyone always talks about, but the fact that I’ve never really felt that with her just made me more sure I wanna be with her - there’s no discomfort or anxiety,” he says, and with your head ducked back in to face your lap, you miss it when he turns to look at you softly. “She’s just always felt like home.” 

Jaemin’s answer seems to have done its job in convincing everyone, and it definitely did its job in reminding you that you were in deep trouble. Though, as the rest of the guys take in Jaemin’s words with an impressed nod, Mark tries to fill in his holes. “Wait, how long have you known each other?” He asks, which was another valid question seeing as Jaemin talked about you with history even though you had never met his friend group before.

“We’ve been friends since high school,” Jaemin says coolly, though this time, you’re the one to nudge him with a laugh.

“Best friends,” you add teasingly, and Jaemin chuckles as he looks over at your figure before nodding his head.

“Yeah, best friends,” he agrees fondly. “But, I’ve liked her for a while now,” he says, turning back towards the group as his face falls and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I just- obviously have the image that I do and I never wanted to get her tied up in it. She deserves more than being labeled as some fuckboy’s latest infatuation,” he says, and as you furrow your brows at him, he just shakes his head, moving on with a light smile. “Though, obviously, I saw her last week and couldn’t help it anymore.”

Sorry smiles cross most of the guys’ faces - they were no help when it came to keeping labels away from Jaemin, and he was sure putting on a convincing show, making it almost seem like it was their fault the two of you hadn’t already gotten together. 

Haechan swings his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows, shifting gears to try and not to let the dampened mood actually settle in. “And you? How long have you liked him?” He asks, and you have to stop the laugh from leaving your system. Instead, you just shake your head fondly.

“Forever,” you answer truthfully, turning to face Jaemin before immediately pulling your gaze back down to your lap in embarrassment. “Any girl will tell you, it’s impossible not to fall for Na Jaemin.” At this, all the guys roll their eyes, but Jaemin just turns to study you softly, biting on his bottom lip in contemplation as he tries to sort out whether any part of your statement was true or if you were just really good at acting.

However, with the rumbling of Jisung’s stomach, he quickly discards the topic of you and Jaemin, deciding that after all the intro questions were out of the way, food was much more interesting. The guys laugh along as Jisung rips through his paper bag lunch, but it does its job in getting them to focus on their own food in front of them, too. 

Casual conversation occurred over lunch, and you were pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t awkward at all. Not that you were expecting the guys to be awkward with each other, but you typically weren’t great at meeting new people; and now you were meeting six of them at once, somehow fitting right in, your occasional remarks causing the whole table to laugh - something you’d have to pat yourself on the back for later. The only disturbance comes from Chenle, who had begun leaning way back from the table, carefully balancing his weight on the bench as he seems to examine the ground by your feet. 

The entire friend group eventually catches on to his antics, turning their attention towards him with raised eyebrows. “What are you doing?” Renjun finally asks, the question coming out as though he thought Chenle were crazy…which probably wasn’t too far from his actual stance on the matter.

Chenle shakes his head, pulling himself back into a normal sitting position as he locks his gaze onto you and Jaemin. “Don’t most couples have a hand placed on the other’s thigh or something while sitting? Why are you guys like- a foot away from each other?” He asks plainly. Your face drops and your eyes widen.

“We are not a foot away from each other,” you remark firmly, but then Jisung peaks beneath the table as well, pulling back up with a shrug.

“Uh, you kinda are,” he says, causing Jaemin to roll his eyes.

“Didn’t think you guys were big pda enthusiasts,” he says, trying to laugh it off, but Chenle is relentless.

“Have you kissed yet?” He asks immediately, and you almost choke.

“What?!” You return in shock, but Chenle looks between the two of you with uninterested brows.

“You’ve liked each other for forever and you’re this awkward?” He shoots back in a taunt. You sigh, collecting yourself because you knew what you were about to have to do. 

“You’re right, Jaem,” you say, pulling his attention your way as you place a hand on his cheek and smile in disbelief. “Your friends are annoying,” you continue, and then you lean in and kiss your best friend and long time crush. 

Admittedly, you’ve imagined this moment more times than you could count, but none of those fantasies could have prepared you for what it actually felt like to kiss Na Jaemin. His lips were perfect, he was perfect, and you knew that already but now you felt it. You remind yourself of where you’re at, why you’re kissing him in the first place, and bring yourself to pull back after the one soft kiss, trying your best to make it seem as though that alone didn’t cause you to lose your breath.

As the two of you pull away from each other, Jaemin’s gaze locks on you, running over every inch of your face with an unreadable look in his eyes to contrast the softest of smiles on his lips. “Yeah, angel, they are,” he says through an exhale, and as your face goes completely pink, his smile eases into a familiar smirk. “But if you kiss me every time they piss you off, I might have to have them stick around.” 

You roll your eyes, nudging him in the side again as you focus on the playful banter and not on the fact that Jaemin just rewired your brain chemistry with one ‘angel.’ “Whatever, we both know I kiss you all the time anyways,” you tease, but as you try to shift away again, Jaemin catches your hand in his and looks at you as if you were crazy.

“No, I kiss you all the time,” he rushes to correct, and though you whip your head back to face him in offense, your eyes instantly soften upon contact, a tight smile playing at both of your features instead.

Your only thought was to kiss him again, and you’re thankful when Chenle cuts off any chance of that happening. “What is going on?” He asks in disgust, causing Renjun to laugh and shake his head.

“Hey, you were the one jumping their asses for their lack of public romance. This is your fault.” 

With the conclusion of lunch, Jaemin kept you company on the walk back to your dorm. As soon as you’re out of sight from the rest of the guys, you let out a heavy sigh and accompanying drop of your shoulders. “Well, there goes rule number one…” You say in defeat. If you couldn’t even follow the first rule during your first outing as a ‘couple,’ the rest of these three months were not going to bode well for you. 

Instead of matching your demeanor, Jaemin takes offense. “What, no! We changed rule number one to no kissing unless they brought it up or were suspicious, and they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” he claims firmly, but the playful tone underlying his words makes it so that all you can do is let out a small, wry laugh.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” you say with a shake of your head, though the smile has made its reappearance on your face. Next to you, Jaemin stops walking, pausing for a moment as he stares at the pavement beneath your feet. As soon as you notice his absence at your side, you turn back around to face him and his small grimace.

“Thank you, by the way,” he says gently, and any remaining tension you were carrying falls away; because any time Jaemin fell softer, you were reminded of how you’d do anything for your best friend. “I don’t know if I really thanked you for letting me talk you into this. I know it’s stupid, but it’s nice to have them attacking me for whether or not I’ve kissed you rather than attacking me for my body count,” he finishes, and it feels as though all your joints had immediately locked up again. 

Jaemin’s title as the campus fuckboy was not lost on you, but talking about anything close to relationships was never a strong suit for you guys; and with him quickly finding his place within a new friend group here at college, it meant you were even less in the know of his whereabouts on any given day. The last thing you were expecting was for Jaemin to keep you updated on who he just fucked, but the entire realm of conversation was always so unreachable for you two. You knew nothing of what the campus fuckboy was truly getting up to; there was sometimes talk in your class when a girl would come in beaming as she told her friends she managed to spend a night with Jaemin, but instances like that were all you got informed by, and you never dared pry deeper into those overheard conversations. 

Sometimes your jealousy would damn near kill you - all these girls boasting about the fact that they had spent a night with Jaemin…you wanted to turn around half the time and tell them to forget about one night because you’ve spent countless days with him; that your entire high school career was covered in his handprints and bright smile which you were sure was laced with drugs - a smile you knew he wasn’t throwing around in the bedroom. 

You never did snap, though, because it was easier to keep your ‘best friend’ label with Jaemin under the radar at college, unless you wished for tens upon hundreds of girls to line up in front of you and ask your advice on how to win his heart. Jokes on them, you were still figuring that out, yourself.

“What is your body count?” You ask with a hesitant swallow, your curiosity getting the better of you now that he’s finally brought it up. 

Jaemin shoots his head up to face you but instantly dodges your eye contact again. For the first time since you’ve met him, he looks genuinely embarrassed. “Another time, y/n,” he says in soft dismissal.

You swallow harshly, in disbelief at what you were about to tell him, but as much as it would sting, it would keep your own feelings at a very needed bay. “If you still want to have sex, you can. I don’t mean to force you into celibacy. Just make sure it’s at the girl’s house so Haechan doesn’t find out,” you say lowly, and Jaemin immediately makes wide eye contact with you.

“Really?” He asks in something like shock. You act as though it’s no big thing, and you’re sure it probably shouldn’t be, anyways.

“Yeah,” you respond with a shrug.

Jaemin takes in your words with a contemplative head nod, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth before his eyes light up in alert, finding another caveat to address. “What do we do if the girl starts talking about the fact that she hooked up with me?” He asks seriously, but you’ve finally found humor in the situation, shaking your head as though there were hardly a need for the question. 

“Jaem, just about every girl wants to sleep with you, or at least make it seem like she did…a random girl claiming to have hooked up with you one day is just going to sound like she’s desperate for attention. No one’s gonna take it seriously,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes. Absolutely nothing you said was wrong, and with a deep breath, Jaemin seems to accept that fact.

As he exhales, he resumes his continuation on the walk back to your dorm, a light nod of his head accompanying his next words. “Okay. Thank you-” His casual start is broken as he turns his head back over to you at his side in question. “Are you gonna be okay? Are you gonna like- hook up- uh…with other guys?” He asks curiously. All you can do is laugh at him.

“Casual hookups aren’t my thing and no way am I getting an actual boyfriend while we’re doing this, but of course I’ll be okay. I’m pretty sure your sex drive is at least ten times greater than mine. I can handle three months,” you reply lightly, and seemingly all of Jaemin’s worries about this new implementation fade away - it seemed perfectly doable without getting caught. 

As you get to your dorm entrance, you and Jaemin turn to fully face each other. “Thanks again for today. I think we got them somewhat convinced,” he says through a small laugh, and you flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“No reason to thank me for that - you did most of the talking,” you rebuttal playfully. 

Jaemin’s laugh turns into a knowing smirk. “You were the one who kissed me,” he teases, and you shake your head, but a wide grin spreads across your lips, regardless.

“It's not my fault that they both, brought it up and were suspicious,” you remind him, putting your hands up in defense. Jaemin takes a moment to laugh again before settling into a more fond look that was reminiscent of your high school days.

“We’re gonna have to start hanging out more again since they think we’re dating, but even before all that, I think it’d make me happy if we started hanging out more again just cause I’ve missed you…and I know it’s my fault we haven’t talked as often! I got a friend group of guys and an- agenda…with girls, and as such, my entire college career up to now has unfolded in that way. But I miss you because you’ve always been my friend, not because of some agenda or fake-dating scheme.”

“Mmmmmm, best friend,” you correct with a sure smirk, making Jaemin drop his head with a laugh of defeat.

“Yeah, best friend,” he cedes, and your smirk turns into a soft smile. 

“I never do anything, so just text me when you wanna hang. I’ll be there.” 

He looks back up at you with a small grin and a nod. “Same goes for you,” he replies. Then, all that was left was saying ‘goodbye’ in a much more awkward way than usual, before you went back up to your room to decompress from whatever the hell just happened. 

It was a week after that first lunch when you were alone and bored in your dorm. None of the guys mentioned anything about having plans for the weekend while at lunch, which you had begun to join in on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. So, although you just saw him, you figured Jaemin wouldn’t have anything better to do than hang out with you some more today. You shoot your gaze over to the clock, agreeing there was more than enough time left in the day to make a hang out worth it, and then grabbing your phone to text Jaemin.

Hey, I’m bored. Wanna do something? You send, and Jaemin’s reply is instantaneous.

With a girl rn

For a text that’s letting you know he’s following your directions, it hurts more than you thought it would to read. You know it’s for the best that this be your reality. Jaemin had been your best friend for so long now, the last thing you wanted was to ruin that with your feelings; and while fake-dating wasn’t helping, this reality-check definitely did. He’s not just your best friend anymore, he’s the campus’ heartthrob…the campus’ fuckboy. It was the entire reason behind the bet his friends made in the first place - a circumstance like this was only expected. So, you’d have to forget about the hollow feeling in your stomach right now and instead support your best friend in a best friend way, cause no matter how many times in the next three months he’s destined to call you ‘angel’ or look over at you softly every time you talk in the group, ‘best friends’ is all you are to each other. Oh, look at you go! I figure I’m your alibi, so I guess I’ll stay in for the rest of the night so there’s no possibility of one of your friends seeing me

His reply this time took about thirty minutes to get to you, and even his last text didn’t prepare you for the brick wall that faced you with this one. Thanks 

Jaemin isn’t selfish, Jaemin is busy. It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself, because you know he’s not selfish; and while you were expecting a reply more aligned with an apology for forcing your Friday night to be spent indoors and alone, taking the time to text that out probably was not something Jaemin could manage while another girl was surely sucking him off. 

The next Thursday, it’s Jaemin’s idea to hang out after classes. The two of you decided to chill at your place so that you didn’t have to constantly pretend around Haechan, should he be in their apartment. As you swing the door open to Jaemin’s presence, he looks at you with a big grin on his face. “Hey, angel,” he says, patting the top of your head as he walks into your dorm. You track his figure deeper into the living area, looking at him quizzically because the whole purpose of him being here was that he didn’t have to call you ‘angel.’ 

You just shake your head with a smile as he plops down on your couch. “Hey, Jaem.” 

He looks up at you with innocent eyes. “What did you want to do tonight?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders with a laugh.

“You’re the one who wanted to come over; my plan was to do homework.” Your answer has Jaemin’s face falling, and you watch as he gets up from the couch and immediately walks out the door, leaving you completely dumbfounded. You didn’t think homework was that repulsive to him. Though, moments later, there’s another knock on your door, and you answer it to be met with Jaemin again, this time his own backpack slung across his shoulders. “Wha-?” You question with a laugh of disbelief.

Jaemin sends a smirk your way before once again walking past you and towards the couch, immediately unzipping his backpack and placing its contents on the coffee table. “Homework,” he says casually, looking up at you with raised brows and a smirk. “Best friend, fake girlfriend, study buddy…you get all the fun labels,” he teases, causing you to shake your head before relenting and joining him at the coffee table. 

It was an incredibly normal night. After the two of you finished up the last of your assignments - though getting distracted every five or so minutes with stupid jokes, complaints of coursework, or a sudden remembering of a story that needed telling did not help push things along, the two of you watched a movie. You ended up making hot cocoa, because the privilege of thermostats meant that it wasn’t a crazy option, regardless of the outside temperature, and then sat on the recliner, Jaemin taking up considerably more space on the couch in response. 

The two of you had always been good movie watchers with each other. You both liked to enjoy movies in the same way - the lights off, no talking, no distractions from phones…even if it was a movie you had seen a hundred times. The two of you took movie nights seriously, mainly because with each other, you could. At least, you had yet to find anyone else who would sit and watch Coraline with you and not take a break to say something about how they find it creepy or flatout don’t like the movie when it’s not even halfway over. Though, Jaemin always happily watched, saving his only comments (typically about how “they just don’t make movies like that anymore”) for the credits. 

Just like that, it was like a night from high school, and it ended much the same way - a side hug with Jaemin and his promises of getting home safe, though it was you rather than your mother that he was making that promise to now. 

Walking back into his apartment, Jaemin immediately catches the attention of Haechan, currently making late night ramen in the kitchen. “Did you just get back from y/n’s?” He asks, pulling his attention away from the stove to turn his head towards Jaemin.

“Yeah,” Jaemin answers casually as he makes his trek through the front space and towards his room, only getting distracted when Haechan speaks up again with a playful lilt and a matching smirk on his face.

“Good night?” He asks, causing Jaemin to furrow his brows before realizing what Haechan was actually getting at. 

“What-? Oh, shut up,” he dismisses. Turning back around to face Haechan revealed him to be completely distracted from his ramen - his back now leaning against the countertop as his casual crossed arms added to the tease in his raised eyebrow. Jaemin rolls his eyes at the antics, especially considering Haechan was the main reason this whole deal was made in the first place - because he was tired of Jaemin having sex. “We didn’t have sex. We did normal couple things,” he states confidently before turning around again to actually make his way inside his room and behind his closed bedroom door. 

This meant Jaemin missed the way Haechan’s playful brows furrowed in confusion, his face falling flatter as he spoke through a soft exhale. “What?” Any more time he could have had to actually question it was overridden with the need to tend to his now boiling over ramen; so Jaemin got off easy the rest of the night. 

Haechan was not as forgiving the next time he saw the guys at Monday lunch, though. With you still nowhere to be seen and Jaemin in his line of sight ordering food, he addresses everything in a more serious tone than any of the guys were expecting. 

“Does anyone else find it odd that they haven’t had sex yet?”

Eyes go wide at the rest of the table. “They haven’t?!” Jeno practically shouts before immediately getting embarrassed and making himself as small as possible. Haechan just shakes his head.

“They haven’t even spent the night at each other’s places yet. He always comes back home after hanging out with her and it’s always just him.”

“Maybe they’re taking it slow,” Mark replies with a shrug, but all eyes lock on him with ample skepticism. 

“Does ‘slow’ seem like a Jaemin thing?” Haechan rebuttals. “I mean, come on. We’re talking about the guy who’s notorious for getting his dick wet at any available opportunity.”

“So, we think they don't really like each other? They’re faking it?” Renjun asks with pursed contemplative lips. 

Haechan’s the one to shrug this time in mystery. “$600 is a hefty amount. He’d do anything he can for that, including but not limited to getting a fake girlfriend and lying to us,” he states more firmly, but that’s as Jaemin joins the table; his brows furrowed and mouth hanging slightly open as he looked around at the guys in something like disgust.

“What in the world did I just walk in on? Y/n is not my fake girlfriend. The deal money is nice but I’m at least honorable about these things,” he argues, and immediately all the guys whip their gazes towards him, varying expressions on their faces as Jisung speaks up in genuine question.

“Why haven’t you slept with her yet?” The seriousness of the question and the sheer interest in the rest of the guys’ faces gets Jaemin to roll his eyes.

“You guys are atrocious, you know that?” He says in place of an answer. 

Chenle raises his brows. “The question remains,” he taunts with a smirk.

Jaemin looks him dead in the eyes as he responds. “She means more to me than that.”

“Means more to you than that?” Jeno reflects back with a laugh. “Jaemin, are you forgetting your love language?” This is the first thing you can pick up as you finally get to the table after questions from your classmates held you for more minutes than should be allowed. Regardless, you immediately jump right into conversation.

“Love language?” You echo with a smile. “There’s something I’m knowledgeable about. How’s my words of affirmation boy doing?” You continue, all your attention directed towards Jaemin as you shed your backpack from your body.

He looks up at you still standing by his side, eyes soft and speaking through a small smile. “Better now that you’re here,” he answers, and you don’t stop the bashful smile from coming across your face as you finally get situated sitting down next to him. The gentle moment is broken, though, with Jeno asking a question in total shock.

“Words of affirmation??” He begs for clarification, and the rest of the guys lean in at the table some more in apparent interest. You look at them all as though there was some joke you weren’t getting. 

“Yes? What did you think it was?” You question back, and they respond in almost perfect unison.

“Physical touch.”

You can’t stop the small laugh from leaving your system as you look back at all of them seriously. “Jaemin’s good at showing love through physical touch, no doubt, but words of affirmation is by far his favorite way to receive love, it’s not even a question. And sure, part of that is how he smiles like an idiot whenever I tell him he’s the most handsome guy on the planet - which is stupid because ‘handsome’ honestly doesn’t even begin to describe it…” You trail off awkwardly before shooting your head back up to face everyone. 

“But have you ever seen him receive a compliment that has nothing to do with his body or looks? The way his eyes light up like something just clicked for him? I mean, he’s so many more things before he’s physically attractive, and all he was waiting for was someone to recognize that. Every time we meet up after class and I say something like ‘I’ve been longing to be in your presence all day,’ or ‘thanks for bringing me more happiness than I’ve ever known,’ he’s practically on the verge of tears every time. It’s why when I told him I missed him that one day, all he could think to do was ask me to be his girlfriend. He’s been waiting to be missed on a level that had nothing to do with his body. He’s been waiting to be affirmed in a way that isn’t physical.”

That seemed to get everyone else at the table to shut up, swallowing awkwardly as they instead turned their attention to their food. You let out a small sigh of relief as you dig into your own sandwich, but Jaemin doesn’t think he can even take one bite anymore; a weird feeling in his stomach and his mind going a million miles an hour. When he does pick up his sandwich, it’s not because he’s finally convinced he can keep it down, but because not eating now would be incredibly suspicious to everyone…including you. 

Jaemin walked you back to your dorm after lunch, something that became typical since it wasn’t always possible to pick you up from class for lunch. You were walking in comfortable silence; in fact, an element of awkwardness was only introduced once Jaemin spoke up with a strange sort of cough and hesitant words. “I didn’t know I was a words of affirmation guy,” he finally says after a couple of minutes. 

With the two of you out of sightline and earshot of the others, you let your actions and reactions express more naturally. So, you paused completely, making him eventually stop and look over his shoulder at you in question. “Oh…really?!” You say in light shock before shaking your head and resuming your pace so you could catch back up to him and continue casually. “I mean, maybe you’re not then, but just from what I know-”

You’re cut off with a small laugh from Jaemin as he shakes his head softly, matching his contemplative tone. “No, I think you’re right. Everything you said I- I think you’re right.” He says it as though he were almost embarrassed by the fact, and you decide that’s the last thing you’re gonna allow him to feel in this situation.

“Oh, well, would you like me to affirm you more often then?” You ask seriously. “We aren’t exactly meeting up after class everyday and I’m not exactly telling you I’ve been waiting for that very moment, but I can.”

Jaemin is quick to dismiss the idea. “No, it’s okay. No use doing that when this whole thing is fake. I mean, rule number three or something is that everything is immediately dropped when we’re in private,” he tries to play off with a laugh, and as you finally reach the entrance to your dorm, you turn around to face him solemnly. 

“Jaem, that’s not me putting on an act. You do know I love spending time with you, right? And-” You shake your head, frustrated with yourself that this is something you obviously didn’t do a good job of communicating earlier. “Take us out of this whole situation thing,” you command, finding your footing in what you’re wanting to say. “Just- as friends. I love spending time with you. I want you in my life forever, yeah?” You finish softly, and when you look back up at Jaemin, he’s quick to break eye contact. 

“Yeah.”

The next few weeks saw to it that you and Jaemin were hanging out more than ever. What you saw as insane luck meant that every time you texted asking if he could hang out, he was never ‘with a girl’ at the time; and Jaemin was texting you and being the one to make plans at a far greater rate than you were, anyways. Instantly, your relationship reflected that during your time in high school - the only difference was that sometimes in the midst of trying to pretend you didn’t have the hugest crush on your best friend, you were also having to pretend you did have the hugest crush on your best friend. 

Hang outs were still mainly at your place so that the two of you never had to worry about Haechan, though sometimes you’d purposely have a night in at Jaemin’s to keep Haechan convinced. This was not one of those times. Instead, you opened your door to Jaemin as you have for the past three Friday’s now, which the two of you decided would be ‘date night’ in everyone else’s eyes while really, you’d just keep a low profile and do whatever you wanted. Due to schedules, you always had an hour for homework before you’d be met with Jaemin’s presence, and he was right on time today. “Hey, Jaem!” You greet with a smile as you swing the door open and step back to allow him inside.

“Hey angel,” he replies casually, because calling you ‘angel’ was now a very typical occurrence, regardless of who was around to hear it. He flashes a smile in your direction, but instead of beelining for the couch like normal, he stops to stand kind of awkwardly in front of you before continuing hesitantly. “Mark is having a Halloween party if that’s something you’re interested in…we could go together. I know parties aren’t really your thing.” He speaks as though it were an apology, and all you can do is chuckle at his antics.

“Don’t worry about that. I am your fake girlfriend, aren’t I?” You tease in reply, and Jaemin raises his eyebrows as though he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“...Yes,” he draws out slowly, and you just shake your head at him fondly.

“So, if you’re going, then I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you answer sincerely, and though you’d never be able to convince yourself of it, you made Jaemin blush - just the tiniest bit. 

He lets out something like a sigh of relief before nodding his head in acknowledgement. “Okay, I’ll tell Mark we’re going, then,” he says happily, and then suddenly it’s right back to routine as he heads for the couch to chill before the two of you could decide what all you actually wanted to do that day. 

The next time you saw Jaemin was two days later when he asked if you wanted to accompany him to the store. It was all light and casual conversation as you strolled through the aisles, most of the time pointing at random items and saying ‘you’ to try and see who could get the other to laugh more. The bit promptly ended when you pointed at a Scrub Daddy to relate Jaemin to, but he instead teased you endlessly for using an item with “daddy” in the name. The only thing to veer his topic of conversation away from that was when you passed the aisle that had been repurposed into Halloween decorations and costumes, making him stop in his tracks.

“Have you decided on a costume for the party yet?” He asks curiously, and you turn back around to face him and redirect your path to peruse the Halloween aisle, touching random bits of costumes before dropping them back to the rack with a shake of your head. 

“Well, I was gonna go as an angel since that’s kind of what you call me now, but if we do it as a couple’s costume, then you’d end up as the devil or a demon or whatever, and I don’t love the idea of that. So…would you wanna go as Team Rocket instead?” You ask in return. Jaemin swallows awkwardly as he takes in everything you just said, but he can’t take too long to explore the slightly comforting feeling brought on by you saying the idea of him as a devil wasn’t your favorite…because that wouldn’t be very ‘I don’t care what anyone else thinks’ of him. Instead, he resorts back to a familiar tease, an eyebrow raised as a playful smirk crossed his lips.

“Who said I wanted to do a couple’s costume?” He shoots back and your face immediately goes red as you scramble for words.

“Oh! You don’t- I was just- it’s not-” You’re cut off with a warm laugh from Jaemin.

“Breathe, angel, I was just messing with you,” he reassures with a shake of his head.

“Maybe you would make a good demon,” you deadpan in return, and Jaemin’s eyes light with fire as his jaw drops.

“Hey!”

“Just messing with you, Jaem,” you banter back, and Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek to stop a wide grin from making an appearance at your behavior. 

“I’m fine going as Team Rocket, as long as I get to be James,” he says with a mock seriousness, effectively getting you to smile as you roll your eyes.

“Well, I wasn’t going to suggest you be Jessie,” you assure in the same manner, and Jaemin nods his head, seemingly content with the plan before another question comes to mind. 

“Are we dying our hair?” He asks, and this time he’s actually serious. You think about it for a second before giving into the idea with a contemplative nod.

“We can get the spray that lasts up until you wash it,” you suggest, and with a nod from Jaemin, your Halloween costumes were set - all you had to do was make them. 

Fast forward a week and the only thing left to do was iron on the ‘R’ decal on Jaemin’s top, which was exactly what you were doing in his apartment as he took the time to spray blue in his hair. You look up from the heat press as Jaemin walks out of the bathroom. “Huh,” you let out involuntarily, and if you were any less close with Jaemin, you would’ve been embarrassed beyond words. However, he just looks at you with furrowed brows and a curious grin.

“What?” He asks, and you shrug your shoulders as though it were nothing big.

“You look good with blue hair,” you answer, trying your best to be casual about it.

Jaemin’s curious grin had turned into a shiteating one. “Oh, yeah?” He digs, trying to get under your skin; though, you thwart the attempt immediately, instead responding with nonchalance - the exact opposite of what he was reaching for. 

“Well, no more than normal,” you reply, and Jaemin’s brows raise impossibly.

“Now, what does that mean?” He asks playfully, but you just shake your head.

“You’re the fuckboy, Jaemin. You know what I’m getting at.” With that, your attention was back on the iron as it beeped and let you know his shirt was ready. You pull it out from under the heat and turn it around so Jaemin could see the final product, and with a nod of approval, he grabs it from your hands and heads back to the bathroom.

“Looks great, angel,” he finally says, studying his appearance in the mirror before walking back out to the living area. You just drop your head as you feel your face heat up at the compliment. 

“I’ll uh- go get ready,” you say quietly, and then you grab your own costume and hair spray before trading places with him in the bathroom. 

Jaemin doesn’t hide his small smile as he watches you walk back out to the living area in your matching costume with him, and you try your best to pin your focus anywhere other than his soft gaze. “Um- drinking at parties isn’t really my thing so- I can drive us back here afterwards. You can drink however much you want,” you get out awkwardly before moving to sit down next to him on the couch.

Jaemin chuckles lightly in response to your behavior. “Are you sure?” 

You nod your head profusely. “Of course. You enjoy parties a lot. I don’t want you to change an aspect of it just because I’m there, too. So, however much you normally drink…go for it.” 

Jaemin studies your figure with ample doubt covering his features. “I don’t know. Me drinking while knowing I have a ride home typically means I turn into too much to handle,” he jokes, but any form of negative self-talk from him always grounds you, and you’re quick to refute it.

“Not for me,” you say, turning your head to make eye contact with him. “Never for me.” Your soft reassurance has Jaemin simply staring at you, and you quickly turn your head back to face your lap as you overthink every little embarrassing thing you’ve already done tonight. On the other hand, Jaemin didn’t even think twice before leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

Your cheeks puff out with a smile in immediate response to the contact, but as you lift your gaze back up to face Jaemin, your attention is caught by Haechan, who had just walked out of his room in costume - a vampire costume that was already iconic and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

Your soft smile turns into a full-on grin as you address him. “Woah, Hyuck. You look great!” You say with a laugh, and Jaemin whips his head around to face his roommate just to fall into his own bout of laughter.

“Oh, fuck off,” Haechan replies with a playful roll of his eyes as he walks towards the door. “Are you two gonna head out soon?” He asks more seriously, and Jaemin gives a light nod.

“Yeah, we won’t be too far behind you. Y/n just isn’t a huge fan of parties, so we opted for fashionably late rather than fashionably early.” 

Haechan flashes his eyebrows up in acknowledgement before turning back from the front door to face the two of you again. “Alright. Don’t violate the couch too much in the meantime. It’s my favorite couch,” he banters, and this time it’s you and Jaemin to roll your eyes.

“You fuck off,” you say through a grin, and Haechan drops his head with a loud laugh before bringing his gaze back to the two of you with a soft smile.

“I’ll see you guys soon,” he says happily, and with that, he’s out the door.  

It was about thirty minutes later when you and Jaemin entered the party house hand-in-hand. As soon as you got in, you realized your friend group was a lot more popular than you ever thought, because seemingly everyone you went to school with was here. For parties already feeling overwhelming, parties where you could hardly move without bumping into someone were even more so. Though, in the midst of the blaring music, a hundred different conversations, and all the dancing, your attention is turned to your interlocked hand with Jaemin as he gently rubs his thumb across the back of your hand.

You shoot your gaze up at him just to see he’s already staring back down at you softly. Unlike you, he looked completely at home in the party scene, though you figure one can’t truly get labeled a fuckboy without being so. That’s also why you assume he was able to tell you were already uncomfortable from the second you stepped inside. 

Hardly a few feet from the entrance, he leans down to you at his side, speaking slowly in your ear so you could make it out from the rest of the noise. “We’ll stay only as long as you want, okay? If you wanna turn back around right now, we can.”

You shake your head minimally, turning to face him and realizing that action placed your lips dangerously close together. You roll them inwards in hesitation before shifting your gaze to his own. “I’m not going to make you leave super early. You like parties.”

A smirk plays on Jaemin’s lips as he raises an eyebrow at you. “I like you more,” he replies playfully. 

You dart your gaze off to the side, ripping your hand away from his in the process. “I’m fine. Let’s just go find our friends.” You take a step out from the entryway but quickly notice Jaemin isn’t following. You whip your head around to face him just to see his hand outstretched for you again.

“If we’re going to go find our friends, your hand better be in mine,” he quips, causing you to roll your eyes before obliging and lacing your fingers back together. He gives your hand a light squeeze as he flashes you a wide smile and drags you to where he already saw Haechan, Jeno, and Renjun. 

“Hey, you guys look great!” Jeno says with a bright smile as the two of you join their circle. Jaemin finally slides his hand out of yours to instead place it on the small of your back. Despite yourself, a small smile comes onto your face, not at Jeno’s words, but at Jaemin’s touch, and you relax a bit more against his hand.

Jaemin is the one to actually respond as the other two guys turn their attention to the both of you as well. “Thanks! My incredible, beautiful girlfriend made the costumes,” he says, tossing his gaze over to you at his side. You roll your eyes at him, but your smile grows. 

“Making it is not the same as making it look good. You did that all on your own,” you shoot back earnestly. The three guys in front of you throw on a look of disgust, as if they weren’t the ones telling Jaemin he needed a girlfriend. Jaemin just looks over at you with a soft gleam in his eyes, his mouth straining as he tries to conceal a smile. He opts to just kiss you on the cheek instead, then reaching for your far shoulder and pulling you his way. He snakes his arms around you to keep you there in a hug from behind, his thumb gently rubbing up and down your waist. The five of you stood in a circle just talking for at least an hour. Occasionally, one of them would leave to grab drinks for the group, though you were sure to just stick to water the entire night as everyone around you became a comfortable state of tipsy. 

Eventually, Jaemin unwound his arms from your figure, causing you to turn your head and look up at him in question. He lets an easy smile paint his lips. “I’m just running to the bathroom real quick. I’ll come find you again in a few.”

You nod your head, and your eyes follow Jaemin for as long as they could before he became completely indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd. You turn your attention back to Renjun, Jeno, and Haechan. “I’m gonna go find Mark,” you start with an awkward laugh. “I don’t know if he even knows Jaemin and I are here.” The three of them nod at you, Renjun racking his foggy brain for where he thinks he last saw him. You nod, thanking them for their company so far, and then heading off towards the kitchen under the guidance of Renjun’s memory. 

When Jaemin steps out of the bathroom, he almost immediately runs into the body of another guy. Opening his mouth to apologize, the guest beats him to words.

“Jaemin, nice costume,” he says, and Jaemin loses his tension at the compliment.

“Oh, thank you-” He starts, but is quickly cut off again by the stranger.

“You got another one of your hoes to match with tomorrow?” He slurs with a smile, throwing an arm around Jaemin’s shoulder.

Jaemin’s eyes widen as he snakes out under the touch, guiding their hand back down to their side. “Uh, no, y/n’s my girlfriend. It’s just her and we’re just out for tonight,” he replies, turning his gaze away from the man to instead scan the crowd and try to lay eyes back on you.

“Ha! Good one,” the guy laughs out, and Jaemin snaps his gaze back to him in confusion.

“Good one?” He echoes back in question, but with a hard slap on his back that Jaemin thinks was meant to be playful, his conversation partner quickly leaves. Jaemin stands there for a moment puzzled, but he tries to shake out of the uncomfortable feeling as he directs his gaze back to the big crowd, looking for where you may have wandered off to once he sees you’re no longer with the previous group.

He quickly realizes he wouldn’t be able to find you by standing in one place, so he picks up his feet and starts weaving through the crowd again. When he feels a hand on his back, he assumes it’s you, and he whips around towards the figure. His face quickly drops when he realizes it isn’t you, and suddenly he’s extremely conscious of how everyone’s been touching him tonight. 

“Such a shame your costume shows so little skin,” the girl says with a small pout and a fake innocence in her eyes. Jaemin tries to take a step back, just to bump into more people dancing and forcing him back into close proximity. He swallows hard, accepting the fact that he was having to engage in this conversation now.

“My girlfriend picked it out,” he says firmly, and the girl in front of him just tilts her head to the side, now rubbing a hand up and down his arm.

“Well, she’s ruining the fun,” she replies, something like pity in her eyes as she looks at Jaemin. He furrows his brows, his breath getting heavier as the air seems to get thinner. 

“Um, I- I think I’m still fun without showing skin,” Jaemin fumbles out, and the girl just laughs, finally letting her hand drop from his arm as her doe-eyed expression turns mean.

“You’d like to believe that,” she says, shaking her head and walking off.

Jaemin stared after her in a weird mix of hurt and confusion that he hadn’t ever felt before. “What?” He asks in defeat, but there was no one there to give him any clarification. 

He desperately starts looking around for you again. If he could just get back to you, if he could just slip his hand into yours, he was sure the heavy weight that’s found its way onto his chest would disappear. He was shaking, he didn’t know when he had started shaking, but it seemed to take the place of his breathing, and now he was worried about whether or not he would even have time to find you before he suffocated. Almost all the effort he was placing into finding you was now being placed into holding back his tears. Everything was too loud, he couldn’t hear his own thoughts, couldn’t hear his voice if he spoke aloud, suddenly not sure if he was even getting any words out when he opened his mouth, which only worried him more because he was dying and he couldn’t tell anyone. 

Holding your hand, it was the only positive thought he could seem to cling to, the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the floor in a ball - he had to find you, he wanted to hold your hand. He thinks it’s a miracle that his feet are able to start moving again, especially when someone definitely put 50 lb weights in his shoes without him knowing. 

He finally lays eyes on you, now in the kitchen talking with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung. Though you were maybe ten feet away, it might as well have been miles, as another hand gets placed on his chest from a random girl in front of him. “James, let me know if you get bored of Jessie later. I can give you a good time,” she says with a smirk, and Jaemin feels like he’s going to throw up; though he can’t quite tell if that was because of her words or the whirlwind of the past three minutes. In fact, if he knew just how badly he was shaking, he would’ve questioned how she didn’t feel it when she placed her hand on his chest. 

He shakes his head as quickly as he could without getting too dizzy to continue his trek towards you. “No, I quite like Jessie,” he says through hiccups, not sure when the first stray tear made its way down his cheek. He pushes past the girl without giving her time to respond and make him feel worse. All he wanted was you, and when he finally got close enough to place his shaky hand in yours, all he could manage were whispered words that he prayed would reach you, or at least leave his mouth at all. 

“Please don’t leave me.”

Still in conversation with Mark, Chenle, and Jisung, you don’t turn too much attention to Jaemin slightly behind you as you settle your hand into his touch, but that’s when you feel how badly he’s shaking. “Jaem, are you okay?” You ask at your side, though your eyes remained trained on Chenle as he told the least dramatic story in the most dramatic way.

“There’s a lot of people here,” Jaemin whimpers out, the answer confusing enough to pull your focus away from Chenle. 

“I know-” You start, your gaze following from your interlocked hands up his arm and to his face, but that’s when you actually see the state he’s in and your face instantly falls into worry. A steady stream of tears cascaded down his cheeks, his eyes tightly shut to block out the extra stimulation, only opening them to look at you before promptly getting embarrassed and turning away. You immediately squeeze his hand a little tighter in your hold, getting him to train his eyes back on you. You pick up your words as he does so, careful to hide your immense worry in your tone and instead speaking softly for him. “Hey…let’s get you to a quieter room, okay?”

Jaemin nods his head minimally, able to let out a choked response. “Okay.” You take no extra time in telling the others that you were going to have to get filled in on the story later. Instead, you just make sure your grip on Jaemin’s hand is enough to not lose him while navigating through the crowd as you immediately lead him upstairs and into an empty room. 

“Talk to me, what’s going on?” You say, closing the door and turning on a soft lamp light before you whip back around to watch Jaemin pace the entire floor, his fingers running frantically through his hair. 

“I don’t know. Everyone keeps talking to me and touching me and everything is so loud and my head hurts and it’s so hot I’m sweating and dizzy and freaking out-” He spoke all at once, and you knew the last thing he needed was to run out of breath while explaining. You jump to cut him off, still trying your best to make your voice as calming as possible for him.

“Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Can you sit down for me?” The second you said it, Jaemin was on the floor, his heavy breaths visibly not making it to his whole body. Your eyes soften some more as you look at him. It didn’t take a genius to tell you he’s never been in this situation before, and all he knew to do was trust you. You let out a soft sigh as you move closer to him. “I know you said you’re hot and sweaty and overwhelmed with touch, but is it okay if I hug you?”

“Please.” The word comes out weak, riddled with enough tears to make you break. You sit down behind him, placing your legs out along his own outstretched ones as you gently hug him from behind.  

“You can close your eyes, just focus on my voice. You’re gonna be okay,” you state with confidence, rubbing a thumb gently up and down his side. Jaemin is quick to refute, shaking his head with an intensity you wish he wouldn’t right now.

“No, y/n, it feels like I’m dying,” he says, fear covering every aspect of his voice. You let out a soft sigh.

“You’re not dying, you’re panicking.” This, too, he refuses to accept. His response comes out as firm as it could through tears.

“I don’t panic. I’m the cool guy. I’m not panicking, I’m dying.”

Despite yourself, a small laugh escapes you through an exhale, and you hug Jaemin to you extra tight. “Baby, no matter how cool you are, there’s not a person in the world completely immune to panic attacks.”

Jaemin stills for a moment, the sudden switch confusing you before he speaks and confuses you even more. “I thought you didn’t like that word,” he says, wiping his face of tears and then placing his hands on your own arms around his torso. 

You furrow your eyebrows, though with him in front of you, there was no point. “What word?” You ask. Surely he wasn’t talking about the word ‘panic attack’ but racking your brain, there was nothing else you said that wasn’t just a normal word.

“You don’t know you said it,” he says curiously, a small sniffle coming from his figure as he tries his own attempt at a light laugh. 

“What are you talking about, Jaem?” You question again. At this point, you were sure one of you was going crazy, and you really were banking on it not being you. Though, Jaemin just dismisses the subject, and with you sitting behind him, you missed the small smile that now covered his features.

“Nothing, please just continue holding me like this,” he begs softly, and you nod your head, squeezing him tighter for a second.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you reply seriously, and there you and Jaemin sat for at least another ten minutes; the only noise to break the silence was his occasional cries as he still tried to rid himself of tears and calm down completely. 

When you couldn’t remember his last sniffle, you start to rub your thumb up and down a portion of his waist, disrupting the physical stillness before you spoke and disrupted the silence.

“I wanna get you some water soon,” you say gently, but any attempt to move from your position was shot down as Jaemin quickly fumbled to grab your arms and press them firmly back down across his torso, his body beginning to shake again at the idea of you getting up.

“No! Don’t leave! Please,” he chokes out, and almost all of the progress you thought he made in the past few minutes was erased.

You sigh, and refusing to think about the fact that you were practically breaking your own rule, you lean forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m staying right next to you, Jaem,” you start, and you watch as he basically forces his breathing to get back to normal at your words…or at least tries to. “Do you want me to call Jeno and get him to bring up water for you, or do you want to follow me down to the kitchen, grab a water bottle, and leave?”  

Jaemin thinks for a moment before dropping his head in what you assume was shame, which was the last thing he needed to be feeling. “I- can we leave?”

You squeeze your arms around his body once more in acknowledgement. “Yeah, come on,” you reply, and the two of you slowly make your way off the floor and into a standing position. As you let go of his waist, you immediately grab his hand in yours, looking up at Jaemin for confirmation that this was what he wanted to do. He stared back down at you with a teary smile and nod, and with that, you led him out of the bedroom and back downstairs. 

Thankfully, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung were still in the kitchen, meaning you had to cover no extra ground to fill Mark in on your departure. 

“Hey, I’m gonna take Jaemin home,” you say, turning to face Mark after grabbing a water bottle from the fridge he was standing next to.

Mark furrows his brows. “Everything okay?” He asks, knowing Jaemin wasn’t one to leave parties early, nor was he one to have tear streaks painted across his face.

You try to smile but it comes out more as a grimace. “Yeah, he’s just a little overwhelmed today. Thank you for inviting us, though. It was a blast.” 

Mark nods his head in understanding. “Thanks for coming. Are you driving?”

“Yeah,” you reply, and Mark forces some sobriety back in his system.

“You haven’t had anything to drink, have you?” He asks in worry, and you let a grateful smile paint your face as you respond.

“No, I’m okay.”

Mark nods before taking another sip of his own drink. “Okay. Be safe. I’ll see you guys soon.” You reciprocate his nod in acknowledgement and then immediately lead Jaemin towards the front door and back to the car.

You make sure he’s all taken care of in the passenger seat before you start messing with the controls in the driver’s seat to move it to where you could actually drive. You make a mental note to apologize about changing the position of his seat and mirrors tomorrow after everything’s calmed down, but as you start driving, Jaemin is the one to beat you to an apology. 

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly, and you risk a quick glance over at him with furrowed brows.

“Huh, why?”

Jaemin fiddles with his fingers in his lap, unable to look anywhere else because of his embarrassment. “For making you leave the party. You were having fun,” he answers softly, and despite your best efforts, a small laugh escapes you.

“Jaem, I was having fun because all we did was hang around with our group of friends. I don’t care for parties in and of themselves, you know that. Truthfully, I’d rather just be with you right now,” you say, and as you pull up to a stop sign, you look back over at him again. Defeat riddled his features as he spits out a response.

“But I’m just crying.” He speaks those words as though he were mad at himself for it, and you don’t understand how your best friend came to believe that he always had to be some perfectly presented guy.

You let out a sigh before turning your attention back to the road. “It doesn’t change the fact that I like spending time with you. Besides, you’d be crazy to think I’d rather be anywhere else right now when you’ve got me so worried about you.” When the only response from Jaemin is another sob he tries to cover up, you frown. “I’m not mad at you for making us leave the party early, and I’m not mad at you for crying,” you add on, and Jaemin finally lifts his head to look over at you in his driver’s seat. He seems to scan your figure up and down, processing your words and the fact that you were actually taking care of him right now. He sniffles once more before abruptly turning his focus back to his lap, and the car ride is silent the rest of the way to his apartment. 

As soon as Jaemin gets into his own room, he already looks a thousand times better; the tension in his shoulders finally falls and his breathing gets more regular. You scavenge around his apartment for anything he may need during the night and next morning, because outside of his panic attack, he was still tipsy, too. 

With a fresh water bottle and ibuprofen set on his night stand, you bid Jaemin goodnight, running a hand gently through his hair as he laid down in bed. However, before you can fully turn around and leave, Jaemin catches the hand you just had in his hair. In shock, you whip back around, just to be met with wide pleading eyes.

“Please stay,” he says softly, and your breath hitches for a moment before you resume your cool, or at least try to.

“Jaemin-” You start, your tone already giving way to your refusal. Though, Jaemin cuts you off in an instant, his grip on you getting slightly tighter.

“You said you wouldn’t leave me,” he shoots back, and his voice is already shaky again from the sudden raise in volume of his claim.

You sigh, trying to slowly snake your hand out of his grip as you reply. “Yeah, but I was kind of meaning that for while we were still at the party, not…now, when you’re going to sleep.”

He refuses to let you out of his hold, and he pulls you even closer to the end of the bed. “What if Haechan comes back?” He starts, trying his best to talk normally. “He’d be really confused as to why you didn’t stay over after the night I had.”

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “There’s no shot Haechan makes it back tonight or is sober enough to think about anything but getting in bed himself. You’re just saying that to try and convince me.”

He finally lets his grip on you drop as he lets out a heavy breath bordering on the dividing line between defeat and hope. “Is it working?” He asks, and though you were finally free from his grasp, able to just say a final goodnight and leave to head back to your place, you don’t. Instead, you drop your head, speaking so softly you’re not sure Jaemin would even be able to hear.

“I want the side next to the wall.” 

With your gaze facing the floor, you couldn’t see the sudden warm glow behind Jaemin’s eyes as he pulled back the comforter on that side and pulled his legs up so you could crawl over by the foot of the bed, neither of you saying another word as you do. 

Jaemin didn’t know why he was so captivated by watching you fall asleep in his bed. The two of you must’ve been at least a full foot away from each other, as you immediately made sure to press up against the wall and make yourself as small as you could. That was fine by Jaemin. He wasn’t asking for the two of you to cuddle in the first place - this was still a fake relationship after all, and he was very much aware of that. In fact, that truth was probably more plaguing than ever at the front of his mind. Now instead of a reminder that he had to pretend to date you, it was a reminder that this was ending in two months. Jaemin’s tipsy brain couldn’t put together what the sinking feeling in his chest meant at the realization of that. So, he pushed it away, and just looked over at you sleeping peacefully right up against the wall. He didn’t need to have his arms around you - knowing you were next to him was enough, and for the first time that night since the party started, he was completely at peace.

When you wake up and realize you were more comfortable than usual in your bed, you open your eyes and figure out that it’s because you’re not in your bed. In fact, you’re hardly resting against a bed at all. Instead, one of your arms is lazily thrown over your best friend’s waist as your head rested comfortably, incredibly too comfortably, on his chest. The discovery that your legs were some kind of interlaced didn’t make things any better, and the full realization that you were practically on top of Jaemin had you jolt. This, of course, didn’t do anything but wake him up. With your head now propped up on his chest, you watch as he slowly peeks open one of his eyes, exhaustion still written over all his features. However, the second his gaze lands on you, he shoots open both eyes. Embarrassment quickly floods your being as you address everything. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

You’re cut off with a light chuckle and softly spoken words from Jaemin. “You’re okay.” Regardless of his response, you can’t shake the embarrassment. Jaemin’s arms fall from around your body as you try to get up, and that’s when you realize both of his arms were wrapped around you in the first place. You push the thought to the back of your head, turning to get off of his bed completely. 

You’re stopped by his hand grabbing yours. You quickly turn your attention back to Jaemin, who still had yet to move any part of his body but his arms as he looks at you softly, pleading. “Can we go back to sleep?”

You swallow awkwardly, your throat now suddenly dry. You dart your eyes around his room before sighing and just landing your gaze back on him. “Um, do you still need me here for that?” You ask genuinely. Jaemin breaks eye contact this time, as he just looks down at your two hands still holding onto each other. He gives a slow nod of his head, humming a little. 

You bite your lip to stop a smile from coming onto your face. It wasn’t often that you got to see your best friend looking as gentle and small as he did now. Jaemin, with the larger than life personality just wanting to stay in bed with you, it was hard to say ‘no.’ So, you don’t. “Okay.” Though when you move to resume your position back by the wall, he chuckles a bit and uses your still interlocked hands to pull you back onto him. 

The next two days after you woke up on top of Jaemin (again) were filled with an awkward period of zero contact between the two of you. You couldn’t blame him for not responding to your text to hang out the day after. You were both really good at never crossing lines back in high school, but Halloween put a blur on every single one…and it didn’t help that he was tipsy that night, too. Outside of whatever rules in your contract were broken, you were sure Jaemin was also just embarrassed to no end. 

There was a lot of pressure on him to be this man with no emotions; his label as a fuckboy meant people typically started and stopped all their thoughts about him at the sexual level, and he did his best to live up to their many expectations in that department, neglecting all the other parts of his being that needed tending to. Vulnerability was not a Jaemin specialty, largely because it’s never what anyone was looking for from him; and anything that lessened his sex appeal, and thus meant he couldn’t make a call and immediately have any girl he wanted, was a possibility he sought to avoid. 

You didn’t necessarily mind the no-contact, though. Your heart was doing flips and spins in Jaemin’s presence on Halloween, and you had to give yourself a cool-down period before seeing him so that you could act normal around him again - whatever it was that ‘normal’ looked like when you were having to convince a group of friends that you liked your best friend while convincing your best friend you didn’t actually like him. 

Jaemin made up an excuse for your absence at Monday’s lunch, but on Tuesday he finally messaged you again and asked you out for ice cream, which you of course said ‘yes’ to. He meets you at the entrance to your dorm and smiles at you with something like a sigh of relief when you smile back at him; though, with his messy hair, thick-framed glasses, and a hoodie adorning his figure, it was hard to do anything but smile - he looked criminally boyfriend. 

“Hey, I’m- sorry…for it being weird these past few days,” he gets out somewhat awkwardly as you start on your walk towards the best ice cream parlor by campus. 

You shake your head with a small laugh. “It’s okay. You’ve been going through it recently,” you joke, and Jaemin licks his lips before bringing himself to laugh as well. 

“Thanks for uh- putting up with me on Halloween.” He speaks as though the words were bitter on his tongue. “I’m sorry about forcing you to spend the night.” 

You let out a sigh. You wanted to stop and force him to see the sincerity in your eyes as you told him that you weren’t ‘putting up with him,’ but you knew you needed to keep this moment more casual so he wouldn’t find these vulnerable bits overwhelming and consequently shut down. So instead, you just keep walking with a small shake of your head.

“You don’t have to apologize for that. You just had a panic attack - if I didn’t spend the night, I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep. I would’ve stayed up all night worried about you. It was better that I was with you.” 

Jaemin lets something like a grimace cross his features as he responds with a wry laugh. “You care about me a lot,” he points out, making you look up at him by your side with raised brows.

“Of course I do. You’re my best friend,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks down to meet your gaze, giving away the distant look in his eyes.

“Ha, fair,” he begins. “I care about you a lot, too.” As he continues, he drops his head to face his feet. “But I don’t think I’d know how to take care of you while you’re having a panic attack,” he admits regrettably, but all you can do is give a soft smile.

“I’m not expecting you to. All I ask is that you let me be there for you again if you have another one…and that you stop being so embarrassed about showing emotions,” you tack on, causing Jaemin to laugh a bit in defeat.

“Okay, angel, but only with you. I have a hot guy persona to keep up in the real world,” he says through a smile, but you shake your head.

“You’re hot, regardless,” you deadpan, and Jaemin’s face lights up as he nudges you in the side playfully.

“Well, look at that! You sweet talker. Maybe I’ll pay for your ice cream today,” he banters, and soon the two of you are in shared laughter as you elbow him back. 

“Whatever. I’m 80% sure you were gonna pay for my ice cream even before that.”

“80%?” He echos, bringing a hand up to his chest as though he’s been shot. “Such little faith,” he tuts, shaking his head and making you roll your eyes playfully.

“Am I supposed to have more faith in a fuckboy than that?” You tease, and Jaemin’s face falls into a mock seriousness, holding open the door to the ice cream parlor for you as he looks at your figure with raised eyebrows. 

“No, you’re supposed to have more faith in your best friend than that,” he says as you pass through the door, and you look back at him to share matching small smiles.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I have nothing but faith in you,” you reply as he, too, fully steps inside and lets the door swing closed behind him. The proximity has you looking almost directly up at him as he stares down at you in much the same manner; playful gleams in your eyes and fond smiles adorning your faces. At once, he nods his head towards the counter behind you.

“Go order, angel. It’s on me today.” 

You scrunch your face up at him with a big grin. “Thanks, handsome.” Then you promptly turn around and head towards where the cashier was waiting to take your order, not even taking one chance to look back and see how red Jaemin’s face had gotten in response. 

Jaemin knew it was coming, that was the funny thing. He just wasn’t expecting the disconnect between his head and his heart to be remedied all at once; but looking at you standing in line and pointing at what flavor you wanted, he had never wanted to do this with anyone else, but he really really wanted it with you, today and every day after that.

Sitting down and actually eating ice cream included the most normal of conversations between you and Jaemin. He wasn’t your best friend for nothing - the two of you could talk forever and never run out of things to say or comfort and joy to find in each other’s presence. As such, when you finished your ice cream cones and left the parlor, interaction flowed as it always had while he walked you back to your dorm…meaning the two of you looked like just best friends; close enough on the sidewalk to hear each other but far enough apart so that there was no possibility of accidentally grazing the back of each other’s hands or anything. You were hardly conscious of it, elated at the fact that you and Jaemin were so close and consistent again after the past few years, but Jaemin could practically only focus on the distance between the two of you.

You had basically just stepped foot back on actual campus when Jaemin abruptly stopped, grabbing your wrist and turning you towards him as he spoke in a rush.

“My friends are looking, kiss me,” he says in something close to a panic, and so you immediately oblige, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him firmly. You place your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you break away, catching your breath - something that Jaemin always seemed to make you lose - as you turn your head around to look at the surrounding area.

“Where are they?” You ask through a light pant, turning back to Jaemin once you checked and double checked but caught no sign of his friends. 

Jaemin licks his lips hesitantly, shaking his head. “They must have left already,” he says through an exhale, and you take a deep breath, finally allowing yourself to step away from Jaemin’s body as you face the ground, trying to regain your footing from the whiplash it felt you just went through. Jaemin lets out an awkward cough before speaking up again. “We should probably hold hands all the time when we’re in public, though. I’m pretty sure Chenle’s the only suspicious one still out of the friend group, but it’d throw anyone off if we’re dating and not holding hands. And if there’s one thing I learned from the Halloween party, it’s that people don’t know we’re dating, and that should probably change so it doesn’t just look like an act put on for the friend group…or Chenle’s never gonna believe it.” 

He wasn’t wrong, and you knew that - you knew that before all of this even started. Rule number three was that the act is immediately dropped in private, but that came with the other side of things being that you had to put on an act while in public, regardless of who was around to witness it. 

You nod your head slowly. “Yeah, okay,” you cede, and Jaemin’s hand immediately finds yours, the warmth from the contact making you realize how chilled your bones currently were. There was no more hiding it from girls in your classes now - you were Jaemin’s girlfriend to the general public, not just to his six best friends. You needed these next two months to pass by quickly, because with the promise of Jaemin’s hand being in yours more than ever, you were sure your chances of survival just decreased dramatically. 

That Friday, your date night was replaced with a night in at Jaemin’s apartment. As soon as he shot you a text saying he was home from class, you made your way over to his place. He opened the door with the bright smile he typically revealed just for you, stepping back to let you inside with a fond, “hey angel.” 

You step inside with a smile and small greeting in reply. “What do you wanna do today?” You ask, turning around to face him once you realize you were aimlessly crossing the span of his apartment for no reason. Already preparing for the question, Jaemin moves his hand from behind his back to reveal a thick blu-ray case in his grip.

“Harry Potter movie marathon?” He asks with a smirk.

You look back at him with raised eyebrows and a small grin of your own. “You know I can’t say ‘no’ to Harry Potter at any point in the Fall or Winter seasons,” you reply, and Jaemin’s eyes find a new glow behind them.

“That and Gilmore Girls; though I’m much more in the mood for Harry Potter because if we started rewatching Gilmore Girls now, we’d have to get through all those episodes with that floppy-haired jerk and really, Jess is so much better,” he adds on seriously, and all you can do is laugh. 

“Hey, Dean is at least better than Logan,” you respond, and Jaemin lets out an actual groan.

“Please don’t get me started on Logan…can we instead get started on Harry Potter?” He asks again, waving the disc case around invitingly and causing you to laugh some more as you walk towards the couch. 

“Just waiting on you,” you answer as you plop down on the couch, making Jaemin roll his eyes playfully before turning around to set everything up on the TV. As the familiar soundtrack fills the room, Jaemin places himself next to you like normal, handing you a blanket to make the cozy night-in complete. 

Two hours later, as Jaemin got up to switch out the discs from The Sorcerer’s Stone to The Chamber of Secrets, you got up for a bathroom break, and when the two of you sat back down, there was maybe an inch less space between you both than previously. Not much else changed. That is, until not even ten minutes into the second movie. You catch in your peripheral as Jaemin moves his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. You don’t think anything of it until that arm doesn’t come back down to his side, but instead wraps around the back of your shoulders.

“Is Haechan here?” You ask lightly, trying to talk over the sound of your breath hitching. Haechan’s room was closest to the bathroom, and you don’t remember any sign of life coming from nearby while you were in there, but nothing else explained this, because this was not normal between the two of you. 

“No,” Jaemin answers shortly, and all you can do is swallow hesitantly as you fight for words again.

“Then why is your arm around my shoulder?” You ask, trying to make it sound as though your words were a playful tease and not a desperate question. 

Jaemin looks over at you with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk. “Because what if he comes back?” He replies casually, and you try to roll your eyes in much the same manner, as though his arm around your shoulder wasn’t single-handedly making your heart rate spike. He was right, anyway - if Haechan came back, it would be weird for the two of you to be sitting any other way.

It was during Prisoner of Azkaban when Haechan inevitably walked into the apartment. Busy with locking the door behind him, he was caught off guard when locking eyes with the two of you as he turned back around. Though, all at once, his gaze softened as he looked between you, Jaemin, and the television. “Hey guys,” he says warmly, and you mentally high-five yourself not only for the fact that you and Jaemin seemed to have truly won Haechan over, but also that you had won Haechan over; the main reason this bet was even made was because Haechan couldn’t stand whatever girl it was that Jaemin had over, but here he was, excited to see you cuddled into Jaemin on the couch, and that win was not lost on you. 

“Hey,” Jaemin replied with a smile. “We’re watching Harry Potter if you want to join,” he continues, but Haechan shakes his head at the extended invite as he moves to grab something from the mess that was the kitchen counter.

“Tempting, but- I’m all good. I’m about to head back out, actually. Mark and I are gonna hit a few bars and try to unwind from this bullshit week,” he says with a weak laugh. You and Jaemin flash your eyebrows in acknowledgement. 

“Let me know if you need a ride back home. We’ll swing by to grab you and Mark, or- I will, at least, depending on what time it ends up being. Regardless, be safe. I enjoy having you as a roommate,” Jaemin says, his tone turning more playful with every word. 

Haechan rolls his eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I won’t drink and drive. We all know I’m smarter than that,” he says, but when he makes eye contact with you and Jaemin again, he meets your wide-eyed stares of doubt, causing him to shake his head with a more hearty laugh. “You guys suck,” he says with a smile. “I’ll keep you updated throughout the night. It was nice seeing you, y/n,” he continues seriously, beginning to fiddle with the front door lock on his exit.

“You, too,” you reply genuinely, and with one more nod and wave goodbye, he was out the door. It wasn’t even five seconds later when Jaemin’s arm detaches itself from your shoulder, instead finding comfort at his side again. He didn’t pay any mind to it, his attention pinned solely on the movie. You do your best to not show any physical reaction to the absence of his touch, especially when you were the one giving him a hard time for it in the first place. You’re almost shocked by how well Jaemin is able to turn it on and off, though you figure the real problem was how poorly you were able to do the same. Jaemin was just doing his part, exactly as he said he would. 

Your heart had to stop looking for hidden meaning to every touch, every “angel,” because he was your best friend and crush, but you were his best friend and fake-girlfriend. Unbeknownst to you, Jaemin ran through the same spiel in reverse inside his own head, figuring if he kept his arm around you now with the promise of Haechan being gone, you would surely catch onto the fact that he craved your touch more than typical of best friends - which was exactly what you both were going back to at the start of the new year.

It was the first Tuesday after you and Jaemin agreed to ramp up your public dating facade, and you were already the center of attention as you walked into class at 11:00. You tell yourself no one’s gaze locked onto you as you opened the door for class - that you were making it up; but at least some percent of that story was false, because as you sit in your chair and start pulling out your notebook for class, your name gets called from the seat diagonal to you. “Y/n, rumor has it that you and Jaemin are actually dating,” this girl, Hana, says. You knew she was looking for a response, so you don’t give her one, instead focusing on your pen mindlessly rolling between your fingers. 

“You? With a guy like him?” She continues, adding more bite and disbelief to each word. You keep your gaze focused in front of you, jaw tightening as you try to hide more robust reactions. That is, until she continues. “You can’t be that good in bed.” Your fist clenches as you whip your head towards her; furrowed, taunting eyebrows matching the fire in her eyes and the smirk on her lips, the rest of her friend group snickering behind her. You have the patience for none of it - you were not going to sit here and take this.

“Actually,” you begin, your kind tone dripping in sarcasm. “I know this is something you don’t have experience with, so bear with me, but Jaemin genuinely likes me as a person and so I didn’t have to win him over with just my skills in bed. Yeah! He actually wants to hold my hand and tell me pretty things and I’m just so sorry that he never had the desire to do any of that with the likes of you!” You give her one last look before shrugging a bit, even your fake smile completely ridden from your face. “Actually, I’m not sorry at all.”

Hana looks mortified, her friend group in the surrounding desks all watching the exchange now with wide eyes. You don’t even think any of them saw it coming when Hana got up from her seat and lunged towards you, swinging at your face. “You bitch!” She yells at you, her fist making contact with the area around your eye. You wince slightly but you refused to give her the satisfaction of a bigger reaction - you’d leave that for when you were alone. You move your hand up to touch the area, making sure none of her rings caught your skin and drew blood, but when your fingers came back clean, you just move your gaze back to her in disinterest.

“Are you done now?” You ask monotonously. You catch her fist clench again in your peripheral and prepare yourself for another hit because seemingly none of the other students were concerned with stopping the exchange. However, your professor finally walks in before Hana can even get another word out, and instead she’s told to take her seat as you swing back to face the front of the room in your own chair. The throbbing that half of your face was currently experiencing would have to wait an hour and twenty minutes to be addressed, you weren’t letting her win.

Thankfully, that was your last of two classes for the day, so you were able to head back to your dorm directly after. You throw your backpack down in the entryway and immediately head for your bathroom to assess the damages. “Fuck,” you whisper under your breath. The hour and a half was enough time for a proper bruise to start forming, and it wasn’t necessarily the prettiest of black eyes. You move a hand up to touch the area again, this time just the light pressure already putting you in horrid pain. With a defeated groan, you leave the bathroom and dig through your freezer for an ice pack to hold up to the area instead. 

Settling yourself down on the couch, you decide the last thing you need is for Jaemin to see you like this. With a sigh, you open your phone and pull up your texts with him. Hey, just a heads up, I don’t have a lot of time to hang this week or make it to friend group lunches.  

Jaemin’s reply is almost instantaneous. Is everything okay?

You frown at the message. You hated lying to your best friend, but explaining what was up would defeat the whole purpose of saying you couldn’t hang out anyways. Yep! You reply instead, thankful when Jaemin didn’t press any further. You’d give yourself a week to heal, and then you were sure makeup would be able to cover what little would be left of the bruising by then.

Those plans didn’t even last twenty-four hours. There was a knock on your door after classes on Wednesday and you figured it was your RA here to remind you not to leave your windows open while out at class with the chances of snow ever increasing. Though, when you lazily throw your door open, it’s your best friend on the other side. Your eyes go wide and you immediately move a hand up to cover the left half of your face where your black eye was still very much at its peak. “Jaemin, what are you doing here?!” You ask in a rush, but he doesn’t match your demeanor at all.

Instead, he shrugs, a light smile painting his lips. “I missed you, angel-” He answers as he brings a hand up to your wrist and gently guides your own hand down away from your face…and that’s when his energy completely flips, eyes going wide as he rushes to place a hand on your cheek and assess the damage himself. “Oh my god, what happened to you?!” He asks in a panic. You shake your head adamantly, trying to move his hand away from your face as you reply with a serious bite.

“Nothing, it’s fine,” you reply dismissively, and Jaemin’s eyebrows furrow as he scans your entire face.

“Is this why you said you couldn’t hang out?” He asks, almost mad if you had to put an emotion on it.

You shake your head, dropping your gaze to face the floor. “Jaem, don’t worry about it-” You start indifferently, but he cuts you off with enough emotion for the both of you. 

“What happened?” He questions again, this time his tone much firmer than any of his previous questions. His gaze bore into you, and you knew there wasn’t any getting out of this. You let out an annoyed sigh, shrugging like it was nothing as you go to reply.

“This girl in my class found out we were dating, and apparently that pissed her off because she didn’t think I deserved you or I was taking her spot and all that. And I snapped back so she punched me,” you finally answer, and Jaemin’s body language immediately softens as he looks over you once more with a frown and wide eyes.

“Y/n…” You don’t want to deal with his sorry tone. Instead, you move to meet his gaze again as you shake your head, the frustrated tears in your eyes rather revealing themself in your fractured tone.

“Please just sleep with her, Jaem. Tell her we broke up or something and then sleep with her. Or pretend you’re cheating on me with her…she’d love that, and no one would believe her if she said so, so we keep our cover,” you suggest in a rush, and Jaemin looks at you as though you just committed murder.

“No. Absolutely not,” he replies instantly.

“Jaem-” You start through a defeated exhale, but hearing you out was currently the last thing on Jaemin’s mind.

“I’m not fucking sleeping with someone who hurt you,” he states with force, and you don’t know why this is such a big deal to him, not when the solution was this simple.

“I would just rather have her satisfied and dealt with,” you respond hollowly, and Jaemin actually lets out a laugh.

“Oh, I’ll be sure to deal with her, don’t worry.” His angry promise makes you sigh, and all you can do is respond in defeat.

“Jaem-” You begin, and you’re not given any time to decide how you want to continue as he cuts you off. Passion still courses through Jaemin’s body as he shakes his head, taking a break from clenching his jaw to speak again.

“She should know better than to lay a hand on my girl,” he argues, and now you absolutely know you need to get him to calm down.

“I’m not really your girl,” you state plainly, and if you weren’t already feeling deflated, you sure did now as you admitted that. Jaemin seems to react to your statement in much the same way, his features softening for a moment as he looked at you again, bringing a hand up to run through his hair in frustration; though this time, the frustration was aimed towards himself. 

“I- I know. I’m sorry, I never should have asked you to do this for me. I was so selfish, goddammit,” he rambles under his breath absentmindedly as he begins to pace back and forth. You shake your head softly, reaching out to catch Jaemin’s wrist and force his movements to still.

“It’s fine, handsome,” you state firmly, and you watch as a million emotions run over Jaemin’s face, him just sucking on his bottom lip in hesitation. The hand that was previously caught in your grip comes up to cup your cheek again, his thumb lightly grazing your bruise as he studies you with a sad look on his face. 

“No, angel,” he begins with a sigh. “It’s really not.” 

You falter under his soft gaze and sure words, shaking your head as you fumble for words of your own. “It will be fine, then. Just let me lay low for a bit. I probably won’t be at lunch on Friday…I don’t necessarily need your friends seeing me beat up like this,” you try and laugh off.

Jaemin looks at you quizzically. “They wouldn’t-” He begins, but you cut him off with pleading eyes.

“Jaem, please,” you counter, and he just nods his head solemnly. 

“Okay.” He lets out a breath before darting his gaze around from you to the rest of the living area, locking eyes with your backpack and giving him a reason to stay in your presence for a bit longer. “Can we do homework together?” He asks, and you lightly sigh as you nod your head, guiding his hand down from your cheek so you could instead head towards the couch and set everything up on the coffee table for the two of you. 

Your main distraction from homework came in the form of whatever was on the television. Jaemin’s main distraction came in the form of you; he could hardly finish one part of an assignment without turning his head to look over at you, chewing on his bottom lip as he studied you softly, then whipping his gaze back to his laptop before you could ever feel his eyes on you. It was the least productive he's ever been.

Friday was the next time you saw Jaemin, when he came over as per usual for your ‘date nights.’ However, with you missing the friend group lunch for the second time this week, he immediately greeted you with a related request. “Hey, the guys miss you. They wanted to know if you were down for a movie night tomorrow,” he says casually as he closes the door behind him. 

You turn to face him with a straight face. “Jaem, my black eye isn’t going to be-” You watch as Jaemin rolls his lips inward and dodges your eye contact, and all you can do is let out a heavy sigh. “You told them, didn’t you?” You ask instead, and Jaemin’s hidden lips reappear to form a weak don’t-be-mad grin. That is, until he meets your eyes again and lets out his own sigh, shrugging his shoulders as he resets his facial expression to something more casual again.

“They wanted to know where you were,” he says in defense. You watch as the memory of lunch replays behind his eyes and he tilts his head slightly as he looks at you with an anticipatory cringe in how you were going to respond as he continues. “…and now they’re all pissed and want to be there to make you feel better, too,” he finishes with a dorky smile, as though his full set of teeth would fix everything. Unfortunately, he was right about that, and all you can manage is a huff of laughter as you shake your head. 

“Oh my. Sure, we can have a movie night,” you give in with a smile, and Jaemin lights up before pulling out his phone to text the group that the plans for tomorrow are a go. Then, your Friday night with Jaemin consisted of a large pizza, red wine, and board games. 

That Saturday night, Jaemin came to pick you up and take you back to his apartment where the movie night was being held, insisting that Haechan could hold down fort as he came to pick you up…and that no boyfriend would let his girlfriend drive herself over to his place when he had a perfectly good truck and an excuse to kiss you under the porch light before joining all the guys; you told him he was an idiot, but he met that with a kiss on your cheek, claiming that you were the idiot for not taking a free kiss under the porch light with the Na Jaemin…a low blow considering the reason behind your bruising eye. 

When you step inside his apartment, the rest of the guys silence mid-conversation, instead turning all of their attention to you. Their shoulders drop as your black eye comes into the light. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as you turn into Jaemin’s chest, and he wraps his arms around you lightly with a warm laugh, kissing the top of your head before turning his attention to his friends. “I’m pretty sure you guys promised me you would be chill about this if she came over,” he states playfully, causing the rest of them to drop their heads with a small laugh of their own.

“Our fault for caring about her,” Jeno banters back, and all you can do is sigh and pull away from Jaemin’s chest, facing the rest of the group again. He was right, not about it being their fault, but for the fact that their frowns just meant they cared about you, and it wasn’t like you didn’t feel the same way towards them - you’d frown, too if one of them walked in battered and bruised. 

You roll your eyes playfully with a mellow shake of your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” you assure, turning your gaze to Jaemin before tossing your head side to side with a small smirk. “Besides, I’d say Jaem’s worth a punch or two.” The guys in front of you laugh but Jaemin furrows his brows.

“Or two?” He echoes worriedly, making you turn to him again with a soft, sure gaze. 

“One,” you promise him and watch as a bit of relief washes over his figure, nodding his head as he takes it in. 

“Um, you guys wanna watch Transformers?” Jisung speaks up awkwardly, shattering whatever tension you and Jaemin just created and instead making everyone chuckle. 

Mark whips his head over to Jisung. “I thought we were watching Spider-Man…?” He adds sulkily. Jisung’s jaw drops, because apparently he had been looking forward to a Transformers marathon nonstop since the plans were made; but Chenle cuts off any chance of a response from him, instead just shaking his head rapidly.

“It doesn’t matter. Just choose anything before they take the pause in activity to make out,” he says as though he were horrified by the possibility, and Renjun lets out a sure laugh as he places a hand on Chenle’s shoulder.

“Still traumatized by the pda you asked for at that first lunch?” He asks, and Chenle looks at him with wide eyes.

“Can you blame me? So, they’re in a relationship…that’s great. Slightly cringe, but whatever. You know what’s not cringe? Spider-Man.”

“The Transformers!” Jisung corrects adamantly, getting everyone to laugh again.

“Sure, the Transformers,” Chenle agrees automatically, and Haechan rolls his eyes with a soft smile as he moves to set up the TV. 

The eight of you got situated before another beat could pass. Mark on the recliner, Chenle and Jisung on the small couch, and then you, Jaemin, Jeno, Haechan, and Renjun taking up the big couch in the middle of the room. You cuddled easily into Jaemin as he threw an arm around your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on the side of your arm. 

For the group of you typically being a mess of chaos when you were all together, the eight of you somehow all followed the same unspoken rules when it came to movie night. There was no talking and, surprisingly, no one distracted by their phone. However, the peace of the perfect movie night was broken maybe twenty minutes into the first movie, when a chill ran through your body and the resulting shiver didn’t go unnoticed. “Do you want a blanket, y/n?” Mark asks softly. All at once, the guys whipped their heads towards him, furrowed brows adding to their glares at his disruption. That is, until it registers for them what Mark just asked, and all their gazes soften as they draw their attention to you in wait for your answer, Haechan pausing the movie entirely. 

You let out a laugh under your breath, shaking your head at Mark with a grateful smile. “No, I’m okay,” you say quickly, trying to get everyone’s focus back on the movie because one shiver was not enough reason for concern. The guys all flash their eyebrows at your answer, immediately accepting it as they turn their attention back to the movie. 

It isn’t long though before you shiver again, and while your attempt to cover it up was stellar, it wasn’t enough to get past the man holding you in his arms. Jaemin leans down so his lips are by your ear. “Go put on one of my hoodies,” he whispers slowly.

You shake your head minimally in response, eyes still trained on the Transformers. “I’m okay-” Your whispered words are cut off when the movie pauses, and you whip your head over to face Jaemin now, remote in hand and raised brows as he stares back at you seriously. A chorus of complaints erupt from the rest of the guys but Jaemin is only focused on you, and you can’t do anything but let out a light sigh. “Are you sure?” You ask, and Jaemin’s brows go from raised to furrowed.

“Am I sure? Of course I’m sure. You’re my girlfriend. Please go dig through my closet and wear my clothes,” he replies firmly, nodding his head now in the direction of his bedroom. You dodge any further eye contact with him as you instead slip out of his arms and towards his room. You don’t spend too much time in there, more than aware that they were all still waiting on you before unpausing the movie. You throw on the first hoodie you see, trying to ignore how much it smelled like him - how comforting it was to be wrapped in that scent. 

You put on a straight face as you walk back out to the living room, though you begin to think it was unnecessary considering their reactions, or- Jaemin’s, at least. He immediately broke from the idle chatter he was having with Jeno as he instead locked his gaze on you, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. You fall shy under his gaze, looking around at the rest of the guys to see if you missed something before accepting the fact that it was just Jaemin who had the answers. “What?” You ask hesitantly, and it forces Jaemin to snap back to reality and collect himself.

He lets out something of a defeated laugh, shaking his head as he concludes his look up and down your body. “You should’ve been swimming in my hoodies for the past two months already,” he answers seriously, and suddenly your cheeks are on fire. You hide your face in your hands and the rest of the guys let fond grins paint their face at the interaction between the two of you. That was the first time it truly hit all of them that they were each about to lose $100 soon. Though it was hard for them to even be mad about it, because in everyone’s eyes but your own, Jaemin was whipped, and that was all they ever wanted for their best friend. 

The group got through three movies before everyone started fading, eyelids feeling heavier by the minute. Renjun was the one to turn the lamp on at the side table beside him, putting everyone on the same page as they all got up from their seats and started getting ready to leave. Chenle is the first to say his goodbyes and head for the door, but as he places his hand on the knob, he whips back around. “Oh, wait!” He starts, louder than any of you were prepared for as you stare back at him in question. He shakes his head, the volume of his voice apparently even getting to him, but then he looks back at you all seriously. “I’m having my big New Year’s Eve party again. You’re all invited, obviously. I don’t know anyone’s plans after finals week, so I figured I’d just tell you now before we’re all in different places - if you wind up back at NCIT by December 31st, I’d love to have you, and if you wind up back at NCIT even earlier than that, please please please please please-” 

“Chenle,” you all cut him off in unison, and he gives an awkward laugh.

“Please consider helping set up,” he says flusteredly. You all let out fond chuckles as you nod your head at the boy, and he lets a wide smile grace his features before finally opening the door and leaving with a soft ‘thank you.’ 

Dropping you off at your dorm, Jaemin fumbles for words before you can even open the door back to your place, and you turn around to pin all your attention on him instead as he speaks up awkwardly. “Uh- about Chenle’s party…”

“Yes, I’ll go. We said that would be our last day together so we might as well be…together,” you say, and Jaemin nods his head slowly. 

“Okay; and for next weekend…?” He leaves the question at that and that’s when you realize you truly hadn’t given him much to plan with yet. You shake your head with a small laugh. 

“We’ll leave Saturday morning for my parents’ house. I have finals up until Friday anyways. The big dinner you have to be there for is Saturday night, so you can do whatever you would like with your break after that.” 

Jaemin processes the information with a distant expression before pulling it into a smile. “Alright, angel. Good luck with finals next week. I’ll be ready to go Saturday morning,” he says happily, and all you can do is match his smile.

“Good luck on your finals, too-” You start, but as you move to wrap him in one last hug, you catch sight of the hoodie covering your arms and jump back. “Oh! I’m still wearing your hoodie. Sorry-” You speak in a rush as you work to try and slip out of it, but Jaemin shakes his head.

“Don’t worry. Keep it,” he responds seriously, making you whip your head up at him and causing him to laugh. “It would be really suspicious if I came back home with the hoodie that I just said you looked cute in, and I’m not taking any chances with us so close to the three month mark now. Just don’t lose it…it’s my favorite hoodie.” 

You let out a flustered laugh. “Well, are you sure you don’t want it back, then? Haechan is probably asleep already-” You reason as you start pulling one arm out of the hoodie again. 

“Just keep it,” he cuts you off with a warm chuckle before continuing more somberly. “Our three months are almost up. I’ll get it back in no time.” If the words were bitter on his tongue, you didn’t notice. You were too preoccupied trying to neutralize your own emotions at the notion of this all ending soon. 

You’re scared your voice would betray you if you opened your mouth again to speak, so instead you just nod your head, finally wrapping him in that goodbye hug and then turning to let yourself into your dorm. 

Finals week somehow went by in a flash, and you’re scared to add up how many hours of it you spent in Jaemin’s hoodie. Though, the atypical schedule meant that you didn’t really have to worry about that - you only ever ran into Jaemin on campus for friend group lunches, and those were canceled this week since half of you would be in the middle of finals during the usual span of time; so, Jaemin never had to find out that you were practically living in the very same hoodie you had tried so hard to give back originally. 

Come Saturday morning, that hoodie was packed with all of your other clothes in your suitcase, currently in the trunk of your car as you drive over to pick Jaemin up before heading to your house. He places his luggage next to yours before opening the passenger door and sliding in. “Hey, angel! Ready to pull all this off for your parents, too?” He asks with a devious smirk. You roll your eyes, trying to buy into the playfulness to forget about the dread filling your system at the idea of heading back home right now.

“Ready as I’ll ever be. Thank you again for agreeing to this,” you say seriously, and Jaemin looks at you as though you were crazy.

“Of course I’d agree to do this. Do you realize how much you’re doing for me?” He banters back, effectively getting you to laugh a bit as the tension in your shoulders drops. “Besides,” he continues more thoughtfully. “It’ll be nice to see our hometown again.” His words are much more mellow this time, and you look over at him with a sad grimace before shifting into drive and actually getting out on the road. 

As soon as Jaemin went to college, his family moved to Jeju Island, and for as often as the two of you talked about traveling there one day, it was much less exciting of an idea when it was already Jaemin’s home base and it’d just be you traveling to visit him. Even outside of that, you knew he missed the city - moving away from everything you know is only nice if it’s your choice, and moving to Jeju was definitely not his choice. 

It’s not like his relationship with his parents was impacted, though. He understood, and was very appreciative of the fact that they held out on the move until he graduated high school. Truly, if they were wanting to move, this was the time to do it. He’d graduate college and get his own place wherever he wanted; it’s just that now his place to go back to was Jeju rather than Seoul.

On the other hand, your family stayed put in the same house from childhood, but your relationship had gone through rough waters since you started college; something not even Jaemin knew, and now you were wondering how oblivious you could keep him of your current home-situation.

The verdict was ‘not very long.’ As soon as the two of you walked in your front door, your parents seemed shocked to be laying eyes on Jaemin with you. You push past them and towards your bedroom to put your stuff down, sending just a meek ‘hi’ their way. Jaemin watched you disappear with ample confusion, but his face quickly straightened up into a smile as he greeted your parents with hugs and gratitude for having him over. 

Your mom pulls back from the hug with a look of disbelief, shaking her head solemnly. “Jaemin, it’s wonderful to see you. I apologize for not having a space set up for you to stay. To be honest, when y/n said she was bringing a guest home, the last thing we were expecting was for it to be a guy,” she laughs off, and Jaemin’s eyebrows immediately furrow. Your own muscles tighten as you move to close your bedroom door, deciding that was already enough for you to hear. 

“Why?” Jaemin asks in return, trying to match the laugh from your mom, though his was half-hearted at best. 

Your mom shrugs it off like it’s nothing new. “Well, you know our y/n…doesn't exactly have a lot going for her-” 

“Y/n’s gorgeous, actually,” Jaemin cuts off with force, now taking a full step back from your mom and causing her hand to drop from where it was still at his forearm. “And sure, she has her guard up most of the time but that doesn’t change the fact that once she’s comfortable enough to be herself, she’s incredibly easy to love,” he continues, brows furrowed as he makes sure to get his point across. 

Your mom passes her gaze from Jaemin to her husband, taking a moment to exchange strange smiles with him before turning back to Jaemin. “Sorry, I seem to have offended you. I didn’t know you cared about my daughter that much.” She speaks every word as though she’s only half serious, and all it does is frustrate Jaemin even more. 

“Of course I care about her but that’s not even the point. You shouldn’t be saying that about your child and you used to know that, cause you never said anything like that when we were growing up. So, I don’t know what changed but I can tell you it wasn’t the worth of your daughter.” Setting all your stuff down, you open your bedroom door enough to catch his last sentence and immediately let out a heavy sigh, knowing you had to go out there and do something.

“Jaem?” You start, walking back out from the hallway. His face instantly changes from disgust to warmth as he snaps his head in your direction.

“Yeah, angel?” 

You nod your head back towards where you just came from. “My room is still the same one it’s always been. Since we’re apparently bunking together, if you want to go put your stuff in there so you’re not carrying it around throughout the house, you know where to go,” you say casually, trying to make it seem as though the sleeping arrangements were all you caught of his conversation with your mom.

Jaemin nods with a tight smile. “Alright, I’ll be back in a second,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head as he passes you in his walk to your room and you take his place with your parents in the living room. You and your mom both watch as your dad looks between the two of you before immediately leaving to go outside, shaking his head as he does so and leaving just you, your mom, and the suffocating tension in the room.

You drop your head to face the floor and your mom is the first one to speak. “I didn’t know he liked you,” she says plainly, eyes darting towards the room Jaemin was currently in before landing on you again, your head now whipped up to face her with raised brows.

“Didn’t know he liked me or didn’t think I was capable of having him like me?” You ask in return, and your mom falters for a moment.

“Y/n…” She starts, but you shake your head.

“Am I good enough now? Is this enough for you? That I brought an attractive guy home who cares about me? Are you even the tiniest bit proud of me now?” The fire in your eyes soon matches that of your mother’s, her disproving gaze that you knew so well baring into you.

“Y/n, that’s not fair and you know that,” she counters, her voice raising with every word.

Your jaw drops as you look at her in disbelief. “What’s not fair is you judging me by the man I do or do not have to hold my hand at any given time.” You’re thankful when the words come out firm; you’ve never stood up to her like this, and when your mom studies you with intensity, it’s as though she doesn’t know the woman in front of her this time. 

“Well,” she breathes out, bringing her gaze back to your own. “Being with him has apparently given you some confidence…or a voice, at least.” Her tone borders between indifference and slight disgust, and all you can do is shake your head, unsure of how your relationship with your mom ever turned into this.

“I refuse to believe that you find an issue in the fact that he makes me feel like the most beautiful girl in the world,” you say in almost a plea for her to tell you it’s not true, but she never does; instead, it’s just Jaemin’s breath hitching in the hallway that he tries to cover up so you wouldn’t know he was listening. When neither you nor your mom turn your heads towards him, he realizes he was still under the radar. So, he prepares himself to walk back into the living room as though he just got done putting everything away in yours.

When he gets back by your side, he lightly kisses your temple, turning to face your mom as he sneaks a hand to rest on the small of your back; your mom stares at the physical contact and you think her eye actually twitches. Jaemin opens his mouth to start casual conversation back up but your mom cuts him off before he can even begin. “Your father and I are going out for the day. We will be back to cook dinner,” she states, and your eyebrows furrow immediately.

“You haven’t seen Jaemin in years and you’re just gonna leave right when he gets here?” You ask in shock, and your mom glares back at you.

“Dinner,” she replies sharply, and then she’s out the door. 

Jaemin’s hand on your back begins to rub lightly up and down, and as you turn to bury your face in his chest, he wraps you in a full hug. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, and Jaemin shakes his head. With one hand, he lightly guides your chin up so that you make eye contact with him, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, angel. It’s all okay. How about we just watch TV or something, go outside maybe…what’s gonna destress you?” He asks, his hand that was underneath your chin maneuvering to instead caress your cheek. 

You shrug, doing your best to dodge eye contact as you reply. “Anything in your presence,” you say seriously, missing the way warmth just reached every corner of Jaemin’s being at your words. 

“Okay,” he responds surely, and that’s how you found yourself walking the streets of your hometown, hand-in-hand with Na Jaemin. You visited his old house, the old playground, anywhere you could before the cold air finally caught up to you and you had to retreat back inside for some hot chocolate and more Harry Potter from your last unfinished rewatch session. 

Jaemin never brought up the obvious tension between you and your mom, something you were thankful for, but it also left you feeling guilty because you knew it was on his mind - the equation of where things went wrong between you and your mom after he left Seoul was continuously being worked out behind his eyes. When you explained this part of the fake-dating contract, he wasn’t expecting for your parents to actually be on your ass about not dating anyone, but stepping into this house was like a minefield, and any conversation around the topic turned into an explosion.

He wasn’t gonna make you talk about it though, you obviously weren’t ready to. Instead, he just wrapped his arms around you as best he could, making sure you and your cocoa were always kept warm throughout the duration of your latest movie marathon. 

Surprising you, when it was finally dinnertime, the atmosphere was lighter by the tiniest bit. Your parents were engaging with Jaemin, at least, and the presence of other long-time family friends put you at ease, too, because you knew a big fiasco is the last thing your parents would allow to happen in front of others. 

“Are you staying with us all of break?” Your mom asks as she puts her fork down and places all of her attention on Jaemin. He gives a sorry grin in return as he shakes his head.

“No,” he begins, and your face immediately drops, forcing you to take another bite so it’s less noticeable. “I was thinking I would surprise my parents. I haven’t seen them since the summer, and I figure that means it’s time to fly out and see them again,” he continues with a light laugh. “Though, when y/n asked me to come back with her for this dinner, I- well,” he drags off, taking a moment to turn and face you at his side, a fond smirk on his lips before he turns his head back to face his lap before you can notice. “I realize I’ve gotten incredibly bad at saying ‘no’ to her,” he finishes, his own light chuckle following his words.

Gazes soften all around the table as they listen to Jaemin, but you can’t bring your head up to look at him, sure the look in your eyes would give away how desperately you were wishing for those words to be real.

Your dad is the one to pick up the conversation again. “Well, we’ll be sad to see you go so soon, but it’s sure been a pleasure having you fill our house again,” he says with a tight nod that Jaemin reflects back to him, slightly softer in his perfect Jaemin way. 

That night, you and Jaemin went to bed before the rest of the adults did, but they had the advantage of alcohol to keep them occupied, and while that option was technically open to you and Jaemin, you both decided it would probably be best to stay under the label of ‘innocent youth’ with your parents and family friends.

You walk back into your bedroom after washing your face and putting on pajamas to see Jaemin already laying down. You trace his outline underneath the covers and sigh when you realize how little room was left in your full size bed. You slip under the covers and begin to turn on your side so you could take up the smallest space possible, but Jaemin evidently has other plans as he reaches over and pulls you so that you’re laying against his chest. “What are you doing?” You ask, propping your head up on his chest as you stare at him in confusion. 

He looks back at you as though there were no need for the question, his smirk playing lazily against his lips. “If you’re going to end up on top of me anyways, I’d rather just hold you there,” he replies, and all at once you’re vividly reminded of Halloween night. You don’t argue back, instead just rolling your eyes and resting your head back against his chest as you try to hide most of the blush on your cheeks. 

Jaemin idly draws shapes on your back as he watches you fall asleep on him. He swallows awkwardly, remembering what your mother said about you…what you said to your mother, and a kind of frustration fills his chest. He listens for any signal that you were still awake, and when he finds none, he presses the lightest kiss to the top of your head. “You’re so beautiful, y/n,” he whispers. His mortification comes when he feels you tense under his hold.

“You don’t have to pretend when it’s just us, you know,” you whisper back, and his heart breaks in his chest. His tone is firm as he replies, because if you were going to be awake to hear him say that, he might as well get his point across. 

“Some stuff I never had to pretend for. Some stuff is just a fact.”

You let out a heavy sigh, flipping which way your head was facing on his chest before speaking softly. “Go to bed, Jaemin,” you say, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the feeling of defeat that arose knowing you don’t believe him. He thinks about saying more but he figures now is not the time for it…that in your friendship, it may not ever be the time for it. So, he lets out his own light sigh, his grip around you going slightly tighter as he gets to work on actually falling asleep. 

The next day, all you really had time for was breakfast before you had to drive Jaemin to the airport. As you pull up to the curb for departures, Jaemin doesn’t even think twice before leaning over the center console to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thank you for dropping me off,” he says sincerely amidst the rustling of him gathering his bags from various spaces of your car. You laugh as you open your own door, sliding around to the back of your car to pop the trunk and grab his suitcase.

“I’m coming inside with you, you know?” You tease lightly, missing the way Jaemin’s eyes soften at the care before he quickly vetoes your carrying of his luggage and rips his suitcase from your grip, causing you to laugh some more as you turn to face him now at your side. “But, of course, it was no problem,” you say genuinely, stepping inside the airport with him and too quickly facing the security checkpoint where you’d finally have to split. “Have a safe flight,” you continue, and with each word he’s now taking a step further than you dare to. “Tell your family I said ‘hi.’” 

Jaemin looks over his shoulder to smile back at you. “I will,” he promises firmly with a matching nod, and you throw a grin and final wave his way as he turns back to actually face where he was walking towards the entrance for security. As soon as you’re out of his line of sight, you allow your face to drop slightly alongside your gaze, letting out a light sigh at the feeling of him walking away from you. However, your attention is caught by the increasingly loud sound of heavy footsteps. You shift your gaze back in front of you to see Jaemin had changed his path and was instead heading straight for you again. 

“Jaemin-?” You question, but you’re cut off the second he gets close to you because he wastes no time in dropping his bags, cupping your cheek with his hand, and pressing a sure kiss to your lips. You melted right into it, something you would have to kick yourself for later, but at the present moment, all you could think about was his soft lips still lingering against yours.

“I’ll see you in a week, okay?” He says in a near-whisper. His words weren’t so much a statement as they were a reassurance, like he needed you to know that all you had to bear without him was a single week, like he intended to never leave you again once he came back. All you can do is swallow awkwardly, nodding as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah.” 

Jaemin’s gaze roamed over your entire figure as best it could with the two of you still in close proximity. You wanted to press up on your tiptoes and kiss him again for the hell of it, or maybe for the comfort of it, but Jaemin is the one to take action first, simply running his thumb gently across your cheek with a small smile before immediately turning to grab his bags and actually make his way through the security checkpoint. All you can do is stand and watch helplessly as he walks away from you. You’d see him in a week, sure, but then it’d be New Years before you knew it and all of this would slip right out of your hands…it practically already had. 

You were back at NCIT before Christmas, trading in family-time for time with Chenle, who was the only other one of your friends on campus for most of that duration. He tried to pretend that he needed to meet up with you to talk about plans for his New Year’s Eve party, but most of it was just excuses to hang out when he got lonely. One by one, the guys all made their way back to NCIT, Jaemin being the last to do so, coming in on the evening flight December 26th. 

You had brought Chenle with you to go pick him up, mainly because Chenle begged you to let him tag along. The two of you stood at the baggage claim for maybe fifteen minutes, Jaemin’s hoodie adorning your figure and providing you with comfort amidst Chenle’s constant nagging that you guys should have brought a sign saying that Jaemin was coming back from prison or something else more embarrassing. 

The baggage claim carousel had already begun spinning for Jaemin’s flight, and eventually even Chenle stops talking to instead join you in a frown as the two of you search for Jaemin. The verdict was that he must have just been the last person off the plane, because around five minutes later, you catch sight of his figure. “There he is- what’s he doing?” You ask confused as you look at Jaemin speed in your direction.

“Running towards you,” Chenle answers as if it were the most casual occurrence ever. He tosses his gaze over to you with raised eyebrows before continuing. “And I think you should probably start running towards him unless you’re prepared to catch his weight, cause I’m pretty sure he’s ready to jump on you.” 

Your eyes go wide at his words as you shake your head. “God, having a lunatic boyfriend is a lot of work,” you respond, feigning exhaustion. Chenle throws his arms up in defense.

“Hey, you chose him, not me,” he quips, making you smile before realizing you really had to start on your run towards him, because of all the things you were prepared for, catching Jaemin’s weight was not one of them.

You take off from where you and Chenle were standing, running up and meeting Jaemin somewhere in the middle as he lets go of his carry-on and puts his arms out for you. “Jaem!” You exclaim, jumping into his arms and wrapping around him like a koala.

“Angel!” He replies just as enthusiastically; hugging you tightly and spinning around once with the momentum.

“Chenle’s here so you have to kiss me,” you whisper in a rush, cupping his cheek with your hand as Jaemin steadies himself again.

He lets out a genuine laugh, catching your gaze with the brightest of smiles in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t gonna run all this way towards you for nothing,” he says surely. Then he presses his lips to yours, and the resulting warmth in your body should’ve made the snow outside impossible. 

Jaemin breaks away from you when he feels a tug on his shirt sleeve, and the two of you turn to make eye contact with Chenle. “You’re being cringe now, can you please take me home?” He asks plainly, making you and Jaemin laugh as he puts you down on the solid ground again, slipping his hand in yours as the next best option. Then, after making sure Jaemin had all of his things, the three of you were on the road back to NCIT.  

The next day, Jaemin and the guys went out for lunch, one you weren’t invited to because it was one you “couldn’t know about.” Sitting around the table in a perfect reflection of the start of the semester, the guys around Jaemin all wore a mixture of looks on their faces, ranging from impressed to sulky…though that last one was only Chenle, who despite having the most money in the group, hated giving it out. 

Mark is the one to finally address the reason they were all there. “Well, you did it. I’m sure we don’t need to be the ones to tell you that you’ve been dating y/n for three whole months now,” he says with a light laugh. Jaemin can’t bring himself to join in on the smiles and playfulness around the table.

“I can’t believe it’s been three months already,” he says hollowly, but both his tone and the distant look in his eyes go unnoticed by his friends, their tunnel vision on their childish bet covering over Jaemin’s anguish at winning. 

“Here’s your $600,” Haechan says after having collected everyone’s shares from around the table. “Can't wait to have a new PS5 in our apartment,” he quips, but Jaemin whips his head up at him, grabbing the $600 from his hands defensively. 

“I’m not spending it on a PS5…” He begins, dragging off as the fire dies from his tone and he returns to a contemplative state of being. “I’m gonna buy y/n something nice.”

Gasps are heard from quite literally everyone else at the table, all of them looking at Jaemin with wide eyes. “Really?” Jeno asks in disbelief, and Jaemin makes passing eye contact with all of his friends, giving them all odd looks for being so caught off guard.

“Yes, really. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me, and I don’t know how to give her the world, but I can at least get her the best that $600 will buy,” he explains surely, and the rest of the guys all exchange glances with each other before turning back to him, Renjun being the one to take a jab this time through a hesitant laugh.

“Are we still talking to Na Jaemin?” He asks, making the rest of the guys laugh as well. Jaemin just lets out a sigh, finally able to find a bit of humor as well as he shakes his head, tucking the money away and turning the afternoon into a regular lunch hang out. 

Two days later, you get a call from Jaemin sometime after dinner.

“Angel?” He says softly once you pick up, his tone making you smile on the other end.

“Yeah, handsome?” You respond warmly. 

“Wanna go on a drive?” Jaemin asks, giving away no hints as to his current state of emotions, and your eyebrows furrow as you pry more.

“No destination?” You ask, and Jaemin shakes his head, not that you were able to see it anyways. His response is sharp.

“No.”

“Everything okay?” You question, the warmth in your tone turning into concern.

“Yeah,” Jaemin responds immediately. You let a beat pass in silence and it’s enough for Jaemin to want to fill it again on his own. “Just want some more time with you,” he explains shyly, and you let out a small breath of laughter as you oblige. 

“Let me get my shoes on.”

“I’ll be there to pick you up in five,” he replies firmly before immediately hanging up. 

True to his word, it only took five minutes before you’re opening the door to Jaemin. “Hey,” he says as soon as you make eye contact, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“Hey,” you reply, your face hurting as you try not to smile too widely at his actions. Jaemin wouldn’t have noticed if you did, though, because he immediately turns to face the floor sheepishly. 

“Sorry if you were in the middle of something,” he finally says, making you furrow your brows at him - this wasn’t a Jaemin you were used to.

“Nothing that couldn’t wait,” you assure him before prying some more. “What’s up?”

Jaemin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he shakes his head hesitantly. “Nothing. It’s just our last few days together. Figured we could hang out before you go off and get an actual boyfriend and I-” You watch as he fumbles for words, eventually giving up with a shrug as he finally makes eye contact with you again. “Go back to doing whatever it is I do.”

His answer doesn’t relieve you of any worry, and you move a hand up to cup his cheek as you tilt your head in study of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

Jaemin nods his head slightly against your hand, a fond smile at your touch replacing the distant expression he previously held. “There’s just a lot on my mind. Nothing for you to worry about. Just wanted to hang out with you and kind of escape it all for a bit,” he explains casually, eventually bringing both hands up to guide your own back down from his face, idly playing with your fingers as he asks his next question. “Do you still like cloud watching?”

“You know I do,” you reply with a laugh, and Jaemin finally bares his teeth as he smiles back at you. He checks to make sure you actually did put your shoes on already before switching his grip so that he was just holding your hand as he walked the two of you to his truck.

You ended up at one of those nature parks, where the fields are preserved for fields-sake rather than playgrounds. The two of you got out and made your way around to the tailgate of his truck and you register that he already had blankets and pillows in the back, completely reminiscent of high school. 

You both sat in silence for a while, staring up at the sky and giving yourselves a chance to be at peace, at least somewhere away from the false sense of urgency that always seemed to be around. Eventually, you move your gaze from the clouds above to where your arms were wrapped around your knees, debating with yourself before finally breaking the silence.

“Jaem?” You call softly, and he turns all of his attention towards you.

“Yeah, angel?” He replies in much the same manner. You dart your tongue out to lick your lips, anything you could do to prolong your question - which you were currently thinking should’ve lost in your inner debate.

You finally let out a sigh, still focused in front of you as you talk. “You know you’re much more than the image you’ve picked up around campus, right?” 

Jaemin’s face immediately whips back to the front so there would be no chance of making eye contact with you. “Um…” He begins, but that was the only word he could come up with before forfeiting with an awkward swallow. You know that means it’s up to you to continue.

“I know that day I first met your friend group, you had to make up a ton of stuff on how we got together and everything, but I don’t know if you were necessarily lying when you were talking about how I deserve better than getting tied into your fuckboy image. I just- wanna make sure you know, in case that has ever been your thought process for anyone you’ve had a crush on, that there’s so many more sides to you than that. An image is an image, okay? Don’t let it get to you.” Your courage is built with every word and you finally turn to face Jaemin as you continue softly, surely. “They don’t know you like I do.”

Jaemin’s lips part with a heavy exhale before he rolls them inwards in hesitation. “Do you mean it?” He finally asks, and there’s just a trace of sadness riddling his voice.

“Of course I do,” you say firmly, and Jaemin takes in your answer with a slow nod.

“It’s been hard. I-” He grimaces before letting out an awkward laugh. “Oh, this is kind of weird to talk about with you,” he continues, making you laugh, too as the atmosphere lightens.

“Whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully. “It’s me.”

Surprisingly, that seemed to do it, because the tension in Jaemin’s shoulders falls as he lets out a light sigh and finally finds his words for what seemed to be the first time that night. “I used to not care. If they wanted to label me as a fuckboy, that was fine. Truthfully, if I was getting my dick wet, I was good-” He cuts himself off at the sound of a slightly louder exhale than normal from you, and he whips his head your way with a pout. “Don’t laugh, I’m being vulnerable.”

You stare back at him with a fond smile on your face and raised brows. “I’m not laughing,” you assure, and Jaemin turns to face his knees again as he accepts your denial of the claim without a fight. Then he starts back up with his explanation, his tone heavy and contemplative.

“Lately though, I’ve just been thinking I want so much more out of life. But, I spent so long under the fuckboy label I didn’t know if I would ever be able to break free from it, if I could ever be more.”

Your gaze on him softens but your eyebrows furrow; there was something so weird about knowing he’s never viewed himself in the way you do. “Na Jaemin, you’ve always been more,” you respond firmly. The lightest of exhales escapes as laughter from Jaemin, and he lets a weak smile play at his lips before responding. 

“And you’ve always felt like home…” He says, matching your tone as he finally turns to look at you again. “That’s another thing I wasn’t lying about that day.” 

You immediately dodge eye contact, knowing it’d reveal to him in milliseconds your real emotions towards all of this…towards him. Probably against your better judgement as well, you lean into him at your side, resting your head against his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’ve had a nice three months with you,” you say, your own weak grin making an appearance.

“Yeah,” he agrees, wrapping his arm around you casually. “It hasn’t been too bad, has it?”

There it was, the reason you needed to snap out of it, because for Jaemin, it just wasn’t ‘too bad,’ and meanwhile you’ve been over the moon these past three months. You’d come to your senses eventually - remember that ‘breaking up’ was the plan all along, that the last thing Jaemin wanted was to be in an actual relationship, and that you were going to have to be as okay with that as ever. However, for now, you figured you’d just lean into him a bit more while you still can. 

The next day saw all eight of you at Chenle’s place, helping him decorate and prepare for the big party, and then it was New Year’s Eve. Only you and Jaemin knew that it was your last night together before the ‘break up;’ and neither of you knew that the other didn’t want it to ever end, meaning when you placed Jaemin’s hoodie in his backseat as a way to return it before the party, you didn’t know the idea of giving it back nauseated him possibly more than it did you. As such, the air was tense and awkward between the two of you, trying to keep hidden how devastated you knew you were going to be at the end of the night, and too dumb to realize the best thing you could do is talk about it. 

Hand-in-hand with Jaemin, the two of you join the rest of your friend group, already standing around in a circle somewhere on the outskirts of the set up dance floor. They greet the two of you with bright smiles, none of them plagued with the knowledge that their favorite relationship was ending tonight. However, with the eight of you chatting about anything imaginable, the night became incredibly casual, despite the overwhelming amount of people flooding in around you all.

Eventually, the group divides up, deciding a range of different activities sounded best for the time being. You ended up with Chenle and Jisung, the three of you indulging in the indoor s’mores kit that was set up. Jaemin never moved from where the big group of you originally were. Instead, he let the crowd all pass around him as he stayed focused on you, gaze aimed in your direction with a fond smile as he watched you interact with his friends.

The only thing to break him from his staring is when Mark taps him on the shoulder and hands him a cup of water. “Man, I hope you know you’ve turned into a completely different person,” he says as he does so, making Jaemin furrow his brows in question; though Mark shakes his head as though it were no big thing. “You got this glow about you that scares me, and the look in your eyes when you’re staring at her…I didn’t think I’d ever see that from you - you know, being so against relationships and everything,” he ends with a light laugh.

Jaemin drops his head, his own laugh escaping his lips. “It’s just what happens when you’ve found your person, I guess,” he replies seriously. “I mean, to me?” He begins, finally looking up at Mark in sincerity before throwing his gaze your way. “For her?” He shakes his head, his smile turning into a dumb grin on his face as he finally admits to what’s been on his mind for three months. “Everything’s worth it. All the risk, all the effort, I’d do anything for her.” He looks your way once more before his gaze turns distant and he lets a grimace slip across his features. “It just took being with her to make me realize…I want to believe in love,” he finally says, meeting Mark’s eyes once again. 

Mark’s smile was painted widely across his face, though he stared at his best friend in something like disbelief. “Want to believe it? Jaemin, you’re in it,” he says firmly, and Jaemin immediately lets his gaze fall to his feet as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“It’s less scary than I thought it’d be,” he finally says, and Mark’s smile turns fond as he gets a glimpse at how his best friend operates. He puts on his best voice of comfort as he replies.

“You said it yourself, it’s what happens when you’ve found your person. You should tell her,” he says, tossing his head in your direction casually, but Jaemin’s muscles tense up.

“No, I can’t,” he says in a rush, and Mark lets out a laugh.

“From the one who says he isn’t scared,” he teases, but Jaemin shakes his head - it wasn’t that.

“I- it’s a weird situation,” he says, letting out a huff with his bad explanation. “I can’t tell her. Not tonight, anyways…she won’t want to hear that from me,” he concludes, dragging off miserably. Mark’s face completely flips as he stares at Jaemin quizzically. 

“But- she looks at you the same way, you know?” He says surely, but Jaemin shakes his head again.

“No, that’s just how she looks at me. Even when we were in high school.” He takes a moment to pause, tongue darting out to wet his suddenly dry lips before continuing with conviction. “No, she doesn’t love me. Not like this,” he says, and then he’s walking away, leaving a very confused Mark standing there with parted lips.

“...I thought she’s liked you since high school,” he says under his breath now that he knew there was no way Jaemin would hear anyways. He looks between you and Jaemin before shaking his head - the last thing he needed on New Year’s Eve was to engage in overthinking.

You had just broken away from where you were talking with Chenle and Jisung to instead make your way over to the punch table. Grabbing yourself a glass, when arms wrap around you in a hug from behind, you know the only person it could be. “Hey, handsome,” you say with a smile, turning your head to the side to try and lay eyes on him.

“Hi, angel,” Jaemin replies, taking the opportunity to place a small kiss on your cheek before continuing. “Are we kissing at midnight or are we ending things before then? I’m not sure if you want to start the new year with me or not.” His tone borders on defeat, and you turn around in his arms to stare at him with raised eyebrows and a playful smirk.

“I’ll be your new year's kiss if you’ll be mine,” you reply, and Jaemin lets out a small chuckle. “Besides,” you continue more seriously. “Ending this doesn’t mean you aren’t still my best friend. You’ll be a part of my new year no matter what. We can kiss and just pretend that was our way to say ‘bye’ to dating, cause you know, I guess it will be.” For a moment that you always knew was coming, admitting its near occurrence now felt like you just had the wind knocked out of you. Jaemin just stares down at you with a wide grin, nodding his head along to your words in approval. 

“Alright best friend, then I’ll make sure to find you again before midnight,” he replies, the entire thing making you swallow awkwardly as you nod your head back at him slightly.

“Yeah…” You respond in something like a whisper, and with one light kiss on your forehead, Jaemin vanishes again into the crowd. 

The rest of the New Years party was a blast, no doubt, but the knowledge of what was coming, or more so ending, plagued your thoughts and eventually you just needed to slip away from the rest of the noise. You ended up on the balcony attached to some random bedroom, the cool air something of a relief for your current state.

The only pull back into reality was when the ever-present loudness turned into synchronized cheers, and you catch as the entire party starts counting down from fifteen seconds. You whip around to start on your rushed journey back inside, realizing you never told Jaemin where you would be; but as you turn, you make eye contact with him, just stepping onto the balcony himself, an easy smile crossing his features. “No need to rush. I told you I’d find you before midnight,” he says with a light laugh, and you drop your head with a small exhale as your own form of laughter. “Ready to say ‘bye’ to all this pretending?” He asks, stepping up to where he was directly in front of you.

No. “Yep,” you respond with the best fake smile you could. You already made it this far with no problems, you refused to let it slip that your heart was fully in this right when it was about to end. 

Jaemin matched your smile, and as the crowd’s counting reached the ‘3, 2, 1,’ his hand came up to find its favorite spot at your cheek again. Then he leaned in and kissed you right as the party erupted with cheers of ‘Happy New Year.’ 

Your hands gripped tightly at his shirt, keeping you steady and keeping him close to you; though he wasn’t necessarily going anywhere with one hand cupping your cheek and the other placed firmly on your waist. Unlike any of your other kisses, this one…lingered. The two of you kept steady pace with each other, you gently sucking on his bottom lip and figuring for as long as he’d let this go on, you would take it for all it was worth, trying to pretend you could ever kiss him enough for a lifetime. 

When you think he’s breaking away, you’re instead met with the feeling of his tongue running across your top lip, asking for permission - permission all too easily granted by you as you open your mouth to let him explore. Your New Year's kiss turned into a greedy make out session, which was probably the last thing you were expecting, but you couldn’t take the time to question it because you were too busy drowning in his taste. You loved the taste of Jaemin on your tongue, and his own soft moan - which he tried so desperately to cover up but that you still very much heard, let you know he was currently feeling the same way; and you’d mark that down as a tiny win in the midst of the huge loss you were about to incur. 

Against your better judgement, you finally break away when you truly couldn’t breathe anymore, and Jaemin rests his forehead against yours. The air was just filled with the sound of panting as the two of you tried to catch your breaths. You swallow awkwardly once you do, taking a small step back as you process what just happened, Jaemin’s hand running down your body until you were no longer in reach. “You’re awfully good at ‘goodbye,’” you say in between breaths.

Jaemin immediately dodges your gaze, facing somewhere off to the side as his adam's apple bobs up and down. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he responds quietly, to the point where you were practically just reading his lips, and then he’s gone, leaving you alone on the balcony to deal with your flooding emotions on your own…not that you could do so in his presence anyways. 

You hated that it hurt this much - that a goodbye you knew was coming still seemed to blindside you. You had allowed your heart to indulge in his every romantic gesture, and while on the surface you knew they meant nothing, you held onto hope in some deep dark corner of your heart that maybe it wasn’t all just pretend; and yet here you were, grouped in with the vast category of girls he’s said ‘goodbye’ to in the way he knew all too well. You were his best friend but you were no one special, and you didn’t expect the resurgence of a fact that you already knew to affect you as much as it did - to make it feel as though you had been hollowed out, bones chilled from the empty space your soul used to occupy. 

You and Jaemin weren’t in contact the entire first day of the new year, though you couldn’t complain because talking to him right away was not something you figured your heart could handle. Instead, you went to work out at the gym and run errands and all those other things people do when they’re single and making a point to say they’re okay with that. To be fair, it kind of worked. Not that you were okay with whatever you and Jaemin had gotten yourselves into coming to an end, but that day of productivity and endorphin-inducing activity helped you ground yourself - these past three months were you helping out your best friend, that was all it was ever supposed to be. 

The next day was far less productive, but you were still functioning like normal. The only disruption from your typical daily routine came with a phone call from Haechan. As soon as you pick up, he starts speaking.

“Why did you go and break Jaemin’s heart all of the sudden?” He asks angrily.

You furrow your brows, though it wasn’t like he could see it anyways. “What do you mean? The breakup was mutual,” you counter in confusion, and Haechan lets out an actual ‘HA’ in disbelief before he replies with animosity.

“I need to know what the hell your definition of ‘mutual’ is because Jaemin hasn’t stopped crying for the past twenty-four hours.” 

You think he’s kidding, like this is one last stupid test of whether your relationship ever added up - but you shake the idea away, he already got the money, it was a week past three months, there wasn’t anything for you to mess up now, the story you’ve been telling would work as it always had. “Crying? What? We both agreed we worked better as friends,” you reply instantly, confusion adequately painting your voice. 

Haechan cannot believe his ears, and he makes sure to let you know so. For as much as you were confused, he didn’t understand why you were acting this way, ten fold. “No, I don’t believe you at all now. He wouldn’t agree on that. I don’t know how Jaemin talked to you, but he talked about you as though he’s never held anyone’s hand before until he held yours. Y/n, it was like you were the one to put every star in his night sky, I swear there’s no way this breakup was mutual.” Your whole world stops and you go speechless on the other end. Haechan was being dead serious, or else he wouldn’t be angry, he wouldn’t be pushing the subject. His words turn over and over again in your head. Jaemin talked about you, evidently when you weren’t around. You were fake-dating and yet Jaemin went out of his way to speak of you fondly to his friends. Jaemin, who never saw the point of getting romantically attached like that, doing more than what was needed in expressing his feelings about you. You push down the feeling of nausea and instead let out a deep sigh.

“I’ll be over in five minutes,” you say quietly, and then you hang up the phone before ever getting a reply from Haechan.

You race over to their apartment, and before you could even knock, Haechan is swinging the door open for you. The two of you make eye contact and about a million emotions pass between you, but it was easiest to pick up on the uncertainty. Haechan opens his mouth as if he’s about to bombard you with questions, or maybe yell at you again…you weren’t sure, but instead he just lets out a breath, nodding his head back in the direction of Jaemin’s room with a soft, “in there.” 

You throw a thankful smile his way, not that you were necessarily guessing at where Jaemin could be, but you were very grateful he was letting you off so easily. Even by looking at Haechan, you could tell Jaemin had truly been crying for the past twenty-four hours…Haechan looked exhausted. 

You lightly tap on the door of Jaemin’s room before entering, breath hitching as you lay eyes on his figure, curled up in a ball and clad in his favorite hoodie that you had given back - the hoodie he now knew you had lived in for the past few weeks because he already caught your own scent on it. Tears raced down his face, and he immediately turned away from you to hide them as he squeaked out choked words.

“Please go away,” he says, and reality hits you all at once. It wasn’t like you thought Haechan was lying, but now you truly had to face the fact that you were the cause of Jaemin’s tears; he wanted you to go away. 

“Jaemin, I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly, shaking your head to emphasize the point. Though, as you do so, your gaze catches onto a gift bag on his dresser, a label with your name written on it in his stupid perfect handwriting. 

You walk up to it, swallowing hesitantly as you turn your attention from the bag to Jaemin and back again. “What is this?” You finally ask. Jaemin shoots his gaze your way, not having previously realized what had caught your intrigue.

“Please don’t-” He rushes to say, but in the pause, you had already pulled out a diamond necklace, holding it gently between your shaking hands. You shake your head, eyes wide and jaw dropped as you’re unable to form a coherent thought. You turn back around to face him, your gaze darting every which way because you’re not sure you can confidently hold eye contact with him.

“Jaemin, what-? Why is this in a gift bag labeled for me-? When did you-?”

He cuts you off, visibly annoyed. “It’s what I used the bet money on. Now please go away,” he demands more firmly, but you wouldn’t be able to follow through on it even if you wanted to, because as you process his words, you lose the ability to move. 

“You spent the $600 on this?” You ask in disbelief, turning your attention fully towards him to try and find any cue that he was lying. “On me?” 

Jaemin turns his head to the side, and you watch as his adam’s apple bobs up and down with an awkward swallow. When he finally answers, his voice has lost its tension, his words instead coming out as though he were ashamed. “$700,” he corrects. “I didn’t want it to feel like I was just gifting you something from the guys.”

You think you’ve gone crazy, or maybe Jaemin has, but all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. “I-”

He quickly finds his fire again, apparently having had enough embarrassment for a lifetime in those few seconds. “Please leave,” he spits out. He dares look up to make eye contact with you before immediately regretting his decision and staring back down at his bed again, wiping more stray tears from his eyes as he fumbles out his next words. “You can take the necklace if you want but just- please leave.”

“Jaem-” You say softly before he can cut you off.

“What?!” He quips, though when he shoots his gaze back to you in irritation, he realizes you’re no longer standing at his dresser, but sitting at the edge of his bed with him. Your fingers barren of the necklace, you instead occupy one hand by placing it on top of his own.

“You could’ve told me you fell for me, too,” you say seriously, and Jaemin stops breathing for a moment as he looks up at you with wide teary eyes.

“Too?” He echoes weakly, and all you can do is give a tight smile, moving a hand up to wipe under his eyes as you try to hold back your own tears.

“I refuse to believe I played off my huge crush on you since high school that well.” You reply with a hoarse laugh.

Jaemin finally recovers his ability to breathe as he lets out a heavy exhale. “You like me?” He asks through tears, and you finally break, having to wipe your own stupid tears off your face before nodding at him with an embarrassed smile.

“I always have. Why do you think I made all those stupid rules to try and make sure we acted like a couple as little as possible?” A bittersweet laugh gets caught in your throat as you think back on it. “If I had to listen to you call me cute names all the time, I wouldn’t have survived knowing it was eventually going to end,” you continue seriously.

Jaemin’s finally able to let out a bashful smile and sorry laugh. “...I called you cute names all the time anyways.”

You nod your head with a fond smile. “I know.”

“I couldn’t help it,” he explains as more tears rush down his face, though this time, they’re at least sliding down next to an embarrassed grin. 

You look at him with playful raised eyebrows. “Just like how you couldn’t help it when you kissed me every time you saw me? Or looked over at me super fondly?”

Jaemin softens as his eyes trace over your figure, the distant look in his gaze letting you know his mind was rather preoccupied with reliving the past three months. “Exactly like that,” he says lowly, and you let out a breath, forcing your gaze away from Jaemin as you instead focus on the way your fingers were idly fidgeting with each other.

“God, Jaem. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized-” You speak apologetically but Jaemin cuts you off again.

“No, I should’ve communicated. Well…” He lets another soft laugh leave his system, the tears finally drying on his face as he works towards fully collecting himself. “I should’ve communicated when you knew I was serious.”

You smile at his words, shaking your head again as you relive every moment of the fake relationship. “I didn’t even know you had time to catch feelings for me,” you begin with something like wonder in your tone. “I mean- weren’t you still hooking up with-”

When Jaemin cuts you off this time, it’s with the most flustered of cheeks and the weakest of laughs. “Um, about that…the very first girl I hooked up with after we added that rule-” He shakes his head with a small smile as he corrects himself. “Well, I say that…she was also the last girl I hooked up with.” Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you process the information, but Jaemin doesn’t give you much time to do so before throwing in another wrench. “I uh- accidentally moaned your name.”

Your head whips in his direction, your wide eyes straining against your dropped jaw. “Jaemin! You did not!”

“Why would I make that up?!” He quips back with a hearty laugh. You move a hand over your gaping mouth, unsure at what exactly you were supposed to do with this news. You shake your head in disbelief.

“Oh my god, what did she do?” You ask, curiosity dripping from your voice. Jaemin bites on the inside of his cheek before giving in again with a light sigh.

“Well, we immediately stopped because we were both mortified, I think. She said something about how I obviously had to go figure some things out, to which I agreed, but for different reasons than she thought…” He drags off a bit but instead just shakes his head and goes in a different direction. “I practically begged her not to say anything about it, but she laughed and said I was crazy if I thought she was going to tell that story and humiliate herself,” he finishes with a small chuckle, and you just stare at him with no less shock than before.

“I can’t believe this,” you manage to get out playfully. 

Jaemin flashes his eyebrows in acknowledgement before his eyes light up and he rushes through more words. “Oh! The best part is, a week or so later, she saw us holding hands in public and texted me saying that she’s rooting for us,” he recalls with a shiteating grin. 

“Stop!” You get out, the idea of it damn near killing you. Though, before you can end up dying of laughter with Jaemin, another piece of information fits itself into the puzzle and you come back to your senses in seriousness.

“Wait wait wait,” you begin, focusing your gaze fully on Jaemin again. “So, you’ve been celibate for like…three months now?” You ask in shock. Jaemin isn’t even the tiniest bit regretful as he responds with a shrug, his sincere gaze meeting your own.

“I only wanted you. Wasn’t going to waste mine or anyone else’s time pretending any different.”

Your gaze softens immediately as a fond smile plays against your features. “Jaem…” You aren’t necessarily sure where you were going from there, but Jaemin picks it up anyways with a small shake of his head; his own weak smile making an appearance again as he recounts those first few moments.

“You kissed me that first day and I assumed I was fucked,” he explains casually. “Everything felt like it changed, and not because it was affection but because it was you.” His cheeks puff out again with a bigger grin as he continues. “Then I had that slip up and I knew I was fucked. Couldn’t get you out of my head for even a moment. It was starting to drive me crazy how much I wanted to make you happy.”

His eyes meet yours again as he finishes, and you search them for answers you knew you would have to ask for. “A good crazy?” You question hesitantly, but Jaemin is quick to shut down any worries.

“The best,” he assures, moving his hands so that he could interlace them with yours. He moves his gaze from your physical contact back up to your face before continuing seriously. “I love you, y/n.” 

You swallow hard, trying to not let any more tears run down your face, albeit happy tears weren’t so bad. You squeeze his hands in yours as you nod your head. “I love you, too.”

“Can we date for real?” He immediately asks, his wide pleading eyes making you chuckle.

“It’s been ‘for real’ for a while now,” you say warmly, but Jaemin shakes his head, not having it. 

“Yeah, but we’re currently broken up if you don’t remember. The entire reason you’re over here is because I couldn’t stop bawling my eyes out…which was the worst feeling in the world, by the way,” he banters back with a weak laugh. You let a grimace cross your face before pulling it into a fond smile. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll never break up with you again,” you assure him softly. Jaemin doesn’t hide his wide smile as he shifts himself so he can easily lean in and kiss you softly, resting his forehead against your own as he pulls back to smile against your lips.

“I’m holding you to it, angel.”

[foxy-kitsune]

oh i'm down bad for him like it's actually not funny anymore

[domjaehyun]

i ❤️ hot nerds (l.dh, n.jm)

PAIRING. pervert!nerd!haechan, pervert!nerd!jaemin x popular!fem!reader  GENRE. smut, slight fluff CONTENTS. explicit smut (kissing, fingering, oral (receiving), titfucking, breast play, lots of drool and spit, overstimulation, snowballing, dirty talk, rimming, anal play, missionary, riding, mating press, breeding/creampies) WORD COUNT. 8.7k SUMMARY. when your professor pairs you with the two smartest students in your class for a group project, you find yourself making an interesting deal with them. or, alternatively: the one where you have to help two nerds learn to get girls so you can pass your class. PLAYLIST. n/a NOTES. remember when i said i was up to something with these two? this is it! teehee :3 i hope you enjoy!!

“Professor Kwon, I really need to pass this class,” you say with a worried frown, and she nods in understanding, reaching over to pat your hand gently.

“I’ll see if I can scrape up any extra credit assignments for you to do, but in the meantime, you can try and do your best on the group project coming up. It’s worth thirty percent of your grade, and if you want, I can pair you up with some of the stronger students in the class to help ensure you get a good grade.” she offers helpfully, and your face lights up with a relieved smile as you nod.

“I would love that,” you gush gratefully. “Thank you so much, Professor Kwon! I really appreciate all your help.” You can tell from her kind expression that she knows your words are sincere, and it warms your heart that she’s been so helpful and generous.

“No worries, dear. I’ll email you tonight with some extra credit assignments for you, okay?” she says, and you nod in agreement as you pack up your bags to leave her office hours.

“I’ll be waiting! Thank you again, and have a great rest of your day!” You chirp, slinging your bag over your shoulder before exiting her office.

As you head down the hall, you think about who, in your thirty-person class, she could possibly pair you up with that could help your grade.

“Okay, class, I’m going to pair you up with your partners for the group project. Just a reminder—it is worth thirty percent of your grade, so please take this seriously. I would hate to have to fail any of you.” Professor Kwon says as she looks out at the classroom. 

Indistinct mutterings go around, and you look around as you contemplate who she might put you with. There’s Mark Lee, the sweet, endearingly bubbly English major in the year below you who’s also an RA for the building across from your dorm.

There’s Huang Renjun, the smart, quiet art major junior in the same year as Mark, and he could be a good partner, you suppose—

You’re dragged out of your reverie by the sound of your professor saying your name, followed by, “Lee Haechan, and Na Jaemin.”

Oh. Well, you’re certainly not upset by that development. You look across the room, where Jaemin and Haechan are sitting together, to see that they’re already looking over at you. Haechan smiles nervously and averts his gaze quickly, but Jaemin leans into the eye contact, giving you a small wave. 

You smile and wiggle your fingers back in greeting, making Jaemin grin and Haechan dissolve into excited giggles, the older male pushing his thick, black-rimmed glasses up on his nose absentmindedly.

Your professor finishes reading off the groups and waves her hands at you all, gesturing for you to get situated with your partners. You move to stand only to see that Haechan is rushing to stand up and make his way over to you, clutching his notebook and papers to his chest almost protectively.

Haechan and Jaemin are also the year below you, and you know them relatively well, given that you’re the RA for their dorm building—well, you know a bit about them: they live across the hall from you, they’re avid gamers, and, if you’re not mistaken, they’re two of the top students in the class.

You watch with an amused smile as Jaemin leisurely slings his bag over his shoulder, the cool, calm, and collected counterpart to your other partner, and they both make their way over to where you sit, Haechan sitting in the chair in front of you and turning it around to face you while Jaemin sits beside you.

“Hi,” Haechan greets quietly, and you shoot him a friendly smile.

“Hi, Haechan,” you reply sweetly, and his face breaks out into a brilliant, shy grin. 

“Hi.” he says again, and Jaemin snorts.

“You said that already.”

“Well, I’m saying it again.” Haechan counters, and you chuckle.

“Hi,” you say, “again.”

“...Hi.” he mumbles shyly, barely able to get the words out past his excited smile.

“Hi, Jaemin,” you greet, turning to look at the male beside you.

He shoots you a dazzling smile that makes you wonder, for a moment, how he even got the label of “nerd” everyone classifies him as. Haechan is a bit more understandable, given his general flustered nature around girls, but Jaemin’s always been calm and easygoing—you’d even go so far as to say he’s smooth. However, you suppose that after hearing Jaemin rant and rave about video games and the like, you can see why someone might label him as one even if you don’t find video games all that nerdy. 

“Hi,” he replies easily, lifting his eyebrows in greeting. It’s your turn to avert your gaze, the mildly suggestive gesture making you feel a little hot under the collar when you couple it with the fact that he can’t keep his eyes off of you.

“So, um,” you say, clearing your throat slightly, “I think we should meet up after classes today to talk about what we’re gonna do for our group project.”

“Okay,” Haechan agrees instantly, nodding vigorously. “We can meet up in the library? Or the cafeteria—or—well, maybe you’d wanna meet up somewhere private—” he starts to ramble, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, holding up a finger to stop him. He falls silent immediately, widened, slightly starstruck eyes gazing at you so intently you find yourself growing more endeared to him.

“Why would it matter if it’s in private or not?” you ask, brows furrowed, and Haechan nibbles at his bottom lip, exchanging a wordless glance with Jaemin. “Haechan?”

“In case you… y’know… don’t necessarily want to be seen with us.” he mumbles quietly, and you frown deeply. 

“Why would I not want to be seen with you?” you ask, already feeling like you know the answer.

“Because—” Haechan looks around the room to see if anyone’s paying attention to him before continuing, “because we’re nerds,” he says, whispering the word like it’s a slur, “and you’re—well, you know who you are.”

“How about you tell me who I am?” you press gently with a playful smile. “Just to refresh my memory.”

“You’re you. You’re one of the cool seniors—you’re one of the only RAs that everyone likes—and you’re…. y’know… popular.” Haechan whispers that word both like it’s a dream and a word that doesn’t belong in his mouth, and you won’t lie and say it doesn’t bother you slightly.

“Haechan.”

“Mm?” Haechan replies, and you drum your manicured nails on the table in front of you to stop his gaze from wandering furtively around the room. 

“First of all, this isn’t a stereotypical clique-y high school movie.” you chuckle. “I can be seen with anyone I want; it never mattered to me.”

“Okay,” he replies hesitantly, but you can sense some of the tension leaving his body as he gradually relaxes.

“Second of all: don’t call yourselves nerds like that—like it’s a label that actually matters. You’re just Haechan, and he’s just Jaemin, and I’m just me.” you finish carefully, and he cracks a smile, looking up from where your hands rest on the table to meet your gaze.

“Okay, cool.” he mumbles, smile growing as your words sink in.

“We can meet on the quad after class if you want,” you say, deliberately choosing the most public location you can think of.

“Well—” Jaemin cuts in, and you turn to look at him to see that he’s looking between you and Haechan. “There are no outlets on the quad… it’s just grass and some trees.”

“True,” you muse thoughtfully. “Where do you guys want to meet?”

“The dorm? Oh, but—” Haechan cuts himself off, shooting a panicked glance Jaemin’s way. “I don’t think my side of the room is presentable right now.”

“Okay,” you say with a laugh. “How about we meet in my room?” you offer, and Haechan’s eyes get so wide you fear he might hurt himself, while Jaemin’s brows shoot up in surprise. Looking between the two of them with growing amusement, you add on, “My last class ends at 4:30pm, and I can be back at my dorm by about 4:45pm, if that works for you guys.”

Neither of them speak for a moment, Haechan seemingly rooted in place with surprise, while Jaemin looks at him expectantly, eyes widening pointedly before he sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, that works for us.” Jaemin answers finally, and you smile, nodding in confirmation.

“Great!”

“Class is over, everyone! Good luck on your projects, and I’ll see you next Wednesday!” Professor Kwon bids you all goodbye, and everyone starts to gather their things. 

“Well, I’ll see you guys then; you know where my room is!” you say, putting your notebook in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 

“See you later!” Jaemin replies easily, and Haechan nods as if to second Jaemin’s words.

“Bye, Haechan,” you say with a playful smile, finding it cute how flustered the male is by your attention.

“Bye,” he croaks weakly, and you giggle, turning to leave but not before catching a glimpse of Jaemin swatting Haechan’s arm in a scolding gesture.

“Would you relax? At least try to play it cool,” Jaemin whispers loudly from behind your retreating back.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Haechan exclaims in a hushed voice. “She’s so pretty.”

You can’t help but smile widely to yourself as you keep walking, pretending you haven’t heard a thing.

They’re perfectly on time—in fact, if your ears don’t deceive you, they’re five minutes early, the two of them standing outside and bickering quietly.

“Listen,” Jaemin says in a stern whisper, “you’re going to act normal when we get in there. No being weird and quiet and awkward.”

“Yes, sir,” Haechan replies sarcastically, and you snicker quietly. “You try staying calm when she looks at you with those eyes.”

“I do,” Jaemin replies flatly. “If you can’t… skill issue, I guess.”

“Wh— skill issue? I bet I’m skilled at putting my foot up your ass—”

“Shut up, she might be able to hear you!”

“Why don’t you knock, then? We can meet early.”

“Why don’t I knock?” Jaemin replies incredulously. “Why don’t you?”

“Why would I knock?”

“Why would I?! You’re the one all eager to see her.”

“I’m not that eager.” Haechan mumbles bitterly, and Jaemin scoffs.

“You showered to see her.”

“So did you!”

“I always shower after classes. You also put on cologne.”

“Well— Is it a crime to want to smell good in front of a pretty girl?”

“No, but it is a crime to act like a wuss when she so much as looks at you,” Jaemin snarks, and Haechan sucks his teeth.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

There’s a brief scuffle on the other side, and you hear faint slapping sounds like they’re smacking each other back and forth, and you giggle softly, walking over to your door and waiting patiently. 

“Would you cut it out? Here–” Jaemin snaps, and three knocks sound out on the other side of your door. 

“Shit! Do I look okay?” Haechan worries.

There's silence before Jaemin replies. “No.”

“Fuck you.”

You decide to end their bickering and open your door, smiling at the two of them. “Hi, boys.”

“Hi,” Haechan mumbles shyly, and Jaemin elbows him, glaring at him.

“Hi,” Jaemin greets pleasantly, and you step aside to let them in.

“Make yourselves comfortable.” you offer, and they enter slowly, Haechan moving cautiously like you might change your mind at any moment. “I have snacks, water, and juice if you want anything to eat or drink.” 

“Oh, dope,” Haechan says eagerly, heading to your mini fridge and opening it, retrieving a blue Gatorade and plopping down on your fluffy pink rug. Jaemin takes a bag of chips from the basket on top of the fridge and sits beside Haechan so there’s room for you to sit across from them. 

You take a can of pineapple juice and frown down at the metal tab. “Can one of you open this? I don’t want to break a nail.”

“I’ll do it!” Haechan exclaims, leaning forward and taking it from you. He opens it with ease and hands it back to you, blushing when you smile gratefully and slip a straw into the opening.

“Thank you, Haechan,” you hum, and he smiles bashfully, nodding.

“You’re welcome.”

“So,” you say, sitting on your bed in front of them as you sip your drink. “What should we do our project on?”

“We were thinking we could do it on something cool, like…” Haechan says, trailing off towards the end and looking over at Jaemin with a clear request for help in his eyes.

Jaemin rolls his eyes slightly, sighs, and says, “Sex.”

You can’t help but smile slightly. “Sex is cool?”

“Well— well, I guess it’s not cool,” Haechan mumbles, unsure of himself, and you cross your leg over the other, watching as his eyes drop to the hem of your skirt, a latent hunger in them as he eyes your bare legs. “But something, like, trendy and relatable.”

“So sex is trendy?” You can’t refrain from teasing him slightly, admiring the way his cheeks flush. “It’s the cool, hip, new thing all the kids are getting into, huh?”

“Well—” Haechan stammers, and you hold up a hand to stop him, the male falling silent instantly and watching you intently.

“I’m just messing with you,” you assure him, and his shoulders slump in relief. “I’m okay with that! I just wanna be super transparent and let you guys know that my passing this class is riding on this grade for this project, so it’s really important to me. I’ll do my best to pull my weight, but I’m not doing as well as you guys, so—”

“We’ll do all the work,” Jaemin offers, and you stop short, blinking at him in surprise. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Haechan chimes in, pushing his glasses up his nose slightly. “You won’t have to lift a finger.”

“...Why?” you ask carefully, and they look at each other, now both a bit shifty. “Guys?”

“Hm?” Haechan asks, and you raise an eyebrow when he doesn’t meet your gaze, clearing your throat and waiting until he does.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Well… we were thinking we could trade services.” Jaemin interjects when it becomes evident that Haechan won’t be answering your question.

“Services?” you question, sitting forward slightly. Shifting your position, you cross your legs at the ankle instead, your knees falling apart slightly, and Haechan’s eyes zero in on the space between your legs, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he watches you. “Your service is helping me get an A, and my service is… what, exactly?”

“Um… we were thinking you could help us socially.” Jaemin says carefully, and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“How?”

“Teach us how to get girls!” Haechan blurts out.     

“So, let me get this straight,” you say, looking between the two of them. “You’ll make sure we get an A on this project, and in return, I have to… help you get girls?”

“Teach us how to get girls,” Haechan stresses. “Don’t just help us get one girl.”

“What’s that quote? Give a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day, but teach him how to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” you recall proudly, and Jaemin nods, pleasantly surprised.

“Exactly,” Haechan confirms. “I’m trying to eat for a lifetime.”

“Noted,” you giggle, and you shrug before nodding. “I don’t see why not.”

Haechan pumps his fist and whispers some sort of victory affirmation that you don’t catch but Jaemin stands up, walking over to your bed, and extends his hand in offering, making you blink at it in confusion.

“Shake on it?” he says slowly, and your mouth makes a little “o” of realization as you nod in understanding, now reaching out to shake his hand. His lips curl into an unnerving yet attractive smile as he grips your hand and pulls you a little closer to whisper, “I can’t wait for our first lesson.”

Something about his intent, unwavering gaze and the way his fingers drag against your palm as you retract your hand—the longing of it all, the lingering touch like he doesn’t want to let go—has your mind reeling in that dizzying feeling from earlier, and you wonder for a minute just what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

It’s been about a week of meeting up with Haechan and Jaemin every day to work on your project, and you’ve been giving tips and tricks on how to get girls every day, both boys studiously and dutifully hanging onto your every word.

“I have a question,” Haechan states about twenty minutes into your study session, and you look at him expectantly. “When do we get to the makeover portion?”

You make a small hum of confusion. “Makeover?”

“Yeah, where you style our hair and our wardrobe and get us contacts and stuff.” Haechan says eagerly, and you chuckle.

“Your wardrobes are completely fine, my only advice for your hair is to style it off your forehead more often, and I happen to like your glasses.” you reply, and Haechan sighs in mild impatience, waving his hand dismissively.

“You don’t get it—we need to be fuckable!” Haechan stresses, and you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“Haechan, you’re already fuckable.” you explain calmly, and he opens his mouth in preparation for some witty remark, but after processing your words, his eyes widen and his mouth hangs open uselessly, his accusingly pointed finger now pointing meekly at the floor at an angle. 

“I—So—so you would fuck us?” he stammers, and you nod slowly, looking from him to Jaemin.

“Why do you think I let you get away with your numerous dorm violations?” you snort in amusement, and he blinks hard.

“I thought you just took pity on us, y’know? Like you had a soft spot for nerds or something.”

“I don’t have a soft spot for nerds.” you answer. “I have a soft spot for hot nerds, though.”

His mouth opens and closes pathetically as his normally quick-witted brain scrambles to process the information you’ve just presented to him. Jaemin is quicker to act, sitting forward so suddenly the move could be considered as predatory, and you’re not sure if it’s the lighting reflecting off of his glasses or what, but there is most definitely a glint in his eye as he regards you, his lips gradually stretching into a toothy grin.

“So you let us get away with stuff? Because you like us? Like what?” he questions, and you tilt your head to the side as you think. 

“Your candles, for starters. Haechan’s tapestry, your many many noise complaints from your neighbors when you two get too heated as you’re gaming,” you start to list off on your fingers, and you cross one leg over the other, not missing the way both of their eyes shift to your newly exposed skin and how… hungry they look. “The way you—” you point at Haechan, “always try to get away with looking up my skirt.”

Haechan’s face flushes a pretty shade of red, and you smile, amused, as he scrambles to defend himself. Before he can, you hold up a hand to silence him. 

“Haechan?”

“Yes?” he replies meekly.

“If I minded, I would have said something by now. I certainly wouldn’t have kept wearing skirts and accidentally flashing you.” 

His eyes roll back into his head with a whimper and he nods in understanding. 

“And you—” you round on Jaemin, who’s still perched like a lion about to pounce, and the male just smiles wider, tilting his head to the side curiously.

“What about me?”

“You probably think you’re slick with the little lingering touches on my back and waist when you’re ‘trying to get by,’ but I only let you do that because I like it.”

His grin widens more than you even thought possible, the glint in his eye now unmistakable. “Oh, yeah? Where else do you like being touched?”

“I mean,” you hum, uncrossing your thighs and smiling as both of their gazes hone in on the space between your legs, “I could tell you, but I think you’d rather have me show you.”

“I have a better idea,” Jaemin murmurs, moving towards you slowly. “How about you let us find out?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, relishing the way they look at each other with equally worried expressions as they silently pray you won’t back out, before you shrug nonchalantly. “Okay.”

No sooner than the last syllable’s left your mouth do they spring into action; Haechan clambers onto the bed beside you and Jaemin lunges forward to settle himself between your legs. Large, warm hands glide up your inner thighs, pushing them apart as he hikes your skirt up to reveal your light blue boyshorts. He moans loudly at the sight, immediately running his thumbs over your clothed mound, eyes flicking up to your face when your breath hitches softly. 

“Princess likes being touched here, huh?” he marvels quietly, leaning in with a slow lick of his lips. “How about kissed, hm? Do you like being kissed here, too?”

“Yeah,” you exhale with a smile, and he grins, wetting his lips once more before leaning in closer and pressing his wet lips to your core, bottom lip barely grazing your concealed clit. As he does, he takes a deep, loud inhale followed by a lust-filled groan that has heat rushing to your cheeks. 

“Jesus, Jaemin—”

“Not now.” His reply is distracted, but blunt and domineering all the same, and you find yourself falling silent in surprise. When he pulls back, there’s a wet spot on the fabric where his mouth used to be, and the cool air hits it, making you hiss quietly.

“As hot as these look on you, I want them off.” Jaemin mutters, hooking his fingers into your underwear and tugging it down and off your legs. “Wanna taste it.” he mumbles—you think it’s towards himself—before he’s burying his face between your legs with another loud moan that makes you curse under your breath, overwhelmed with desire.

His tongue lies flat against your folds, languidly and deliciously dragging upwards to circle around your clit. He grunts in delight and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed, hooking his arms around your thighs and pushing forward again, the bridge of his nose pressed against your mound. 

You gasp and clutch at the nearest thing in your grasp, which just so happens to be Haechan’s thigh. “Fuck,” you whisper loudly, and Jaemin chuckles.

“Stop neglecting Haechan,” he scolds playfully through a mouthful of your pussy. “This was his idea, you know.”

You manage to redirect your attention to Haechan, whose eyes dart around as he watches you and Jaemin with a wild look in his eyes, the male seemingly frozen on the spot. 

Your nose nudges at Haechan’s, the male tilting his head towards you and parting his lips in a soft sigh as your lips meet. It takes a moment for him to reciprocate, almost long enough for you to pull back, but he finally starts to kiss you back with a whimper caught in the back of his throat. 

“Haechan, touch me,” you urge, gripping his wrist and bringing his hand to your waist. He clutches your waist, but there’s a hesitance to it that leaves you wanting more.

“Yeah, Haechan, touch her.” Jaemin chuckles before massaging your clit with his tongue. Your eyes roll back into your head with a groan and he rewards your reaction by pressing the wet muscle against you more insistently. “Maybe he needs some incentive.”

“Incentive?” you hum curiously, and he nods, that wicked glint returning to his eyes.

“Take your shirt off.” he presses, and you oblige without hesitation, discarding the shirt behind you on the bed and looking at Haechan expectantly, finding yourself endeared by the way he nibbles his bottom lip nervously. “Haechan, doesn’t she look so good like that?”

“Amazing,” Haechan breathes reverently, and you smile at the praise, eyes closing in bliss. 

“Kiss her.” Jaemin suggests, and Haechan does just that, tentatively approaching you and gently connecting his lips with yours. As your mouths move together, you can’t help but notice the same reservation in Haechan’s movements, drawing a plaintive whimper from your lips. “Stop kissing her like you’re scared, Haechan,” Jaemin scolds. “She likes it. Don’t you, princess?”

“Yes,” you reply instantly, reaching up to cup Haechan’s cheek. He shudders at the contact, eyes fluttering shut before reopening with a darkened intensity that clues you in to the fact that Haechan seems to be done holding back.

Sure enough, Haechan clutches your chin and pulls you closer to him, tongue boldly slipping between your lips and exploring the wet warmth of your mouth. His thumb pries your lips apart with a forcefulness that delights you, and he hovers above your open mouth, eyes scanning yours before letting a string of saliva drip down from his lips onto your waiting tongue.

You whine when the spit connects with your tongue and he grunts, “Don’t swallow,” before kissing you again, tongue swirling confidently around yours even as a mix of your saliva drips down your chin and onto your chest. He’s quick to act, leaning down and dragging his tongue up the trail of spit before connecting your lips again in a more heated, desperate kiss that slowly takes your breath away. It’s wet, and hot, and messy and sloppy and everything you could have wanted from him and more as he leans in, pressing into you and leaning you back onto your mattress. 

Jaemin seems to be done assisting Haechan, as he returns to eating you out with a renewed fervor and, as Haechan kisses down your body to your breasts, it dawns on you that they might be competing for your attention. 

With every swirl of Haechan’s tongue around your nipple, Jaemin echoes the action around your clit, their synchronization sending you spiraling into a frenzy. When Jaemin flicks your clit back and forth with his tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck, Haechan does the same to your breast, lapping at your nipple eagerly before sucking on the sensitive bud.

“Fuck—” you hiss, realizing—perhaps a moment too late—that you may have bitten off more than you can chew as you let the two sexually frustrated males have their way with your body.

Before long, you feel that tightening sensation in your stomach as your climax approaches, and you whimper in lieu of a verbal warning, Jaemin picking up on your cue instantly and diving back into your core with an eagerness that both startles and delights you. With another well-timed suck at your clit, you’re climaxing with a cry of pleasure and a full body tremor as you curl in on yourself. 

Before you’ve even recovered from your high, Jaemin’s pressing on your stomach to keep you in place as he resumes lapping at your core, his tongue gliding with ease against and between your slick folds. 

“Fuck—Jaemin, it’s sensitive—” you moan, squirming away from his touch, but he ignores you, two fingers prodding at your entrance before slowly easing their way in. “Oh, shit—”

“That’s it, just take it, princess,” Jaemin coos, swirling sinful circles around your clit as his fingers move in and out of you slowly. “Feel so good around my fingers like that, angel.”

“Can I—” Haechan swallows thickly before continuing, “Can I fuck your tits?” Before you can answer, he adds, “Please?” fully laden with desperation and you can’t even fathom saying no to him—so you don’t, instead nodding and watching his face light up with excitement.

He rushes to pull off his pants as if you’ll change your mind at any moment, and when he pulls his boxers down, his fully erect length springs up, girthy and long with an upwards curve. You watch with fascination as he straddles just below your chest, laying his length between your breasts and pushing them together with a groan. 

With his eyes locked on your breasts and where his length disappears between them, he starts to move, slowly fucking himself on your breasts. His gasps and whimpers are both adorable and arousing, his fingers greedily clutching the mounds of flesh as his thumbs swipe over your nipples rhythmically. 

Apparently dissatisfied with the sensation, Haechan pauses, smearing his precum over your chest and pauses thoughtfully before leaning forward and letting several large droplets of saliva drip down from his tongue to your breasts, the clear liquid landing on either side of his cock and slowly sliding down the insides of your breasts to coat his length. “That’s more like it,” he grunts, and resumes fucking your cleavage, his eyes rolling back into his head at the sensations, his length gliding between your breasts with ease. 

Meanwhile, Jaemin curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them into you quickly and mercilessly as you cry out in pleasure. His tongue keeps swirling around and flicking at your clit, massaging your little bundle of nerves as his fingertips fuck into your other patch of nerves along your inner walls that has you seeing fireworks.

“God, that feels so good,” you whimper out, and Jaemin nods vigorously, tongue messily gliding along your folds with every movement of his head. 

“Mm, I know, princess—tastes so good, too.” he purrs, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to peek past Haechan at Jaemin, noting fondly that his glasses have almost completely fogged up. 

Haechan shoves his glasses up his nose hurriedly with one hand, mumbling something about wanting to see better, before he speeds up, small moans leaving him as he approaches his high.

Jaemin digs his tongue into your core, greedy muscle slurping up your arousal as it gushes from your hole, and you moan loudly, walls clenching desperately around the intrusion. His fingers slide up and down your slit, parting your folds, and he uses the combination of your slick and his spit to lube up his fingers for when he presses them to your asshole. He chuckles darkly when you squeal and squirm, fingers pushing into your tight rim without pause. 

“You can take it, right, princess?” he coos, and you nod, panting, even though you’re not sure he can see you. “That’s it, pretty, just like that. So fun to play with,” he murmurs, the last part almost sounding like it’s to himself as he moves his fingers inside of you, tongue gliding up and down to swirl around your clit and your entrance teasingly.

“So good,” Haechan moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Wanna cum—fuck, you’re so hot—gonna cum, pretty—where d’you want it?”

You find that you can barely form thoughts, let alone words, so, in lieu of a verbal response, you open your mouth, tongue dropping out slowly, and he moans again, this one higher and audibly overwhelmed before he thrusts his cock faster between your breasts, the tip of his length occasionally rubbing against your tongue. With a low groan, Haechan cums, abdomen tensing as he pants his way through his climax. He releases onto your waiting tongue, one spurt of cum landing on your cheek and bottom lip. 

He admires the sight of you with his release painting your face and swipes up the stray seed with his finger, pushing it into your mouth and groaning when your lips wrap around it and suck it clean.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs reverently, shuffling down your body to kiss you sloppily, tongue swirling around the inside of your mouth to taste himself. 

Looking behind himself, Haechan takes one look at Jaemin’s fingers diving in and out of your core, slick arousal and Jaemin’s saliva dripping from your entrance, and groans, rushing to get off of the bed and shove Jaemin out of place none too gently to take his place between your legs and study your glistening core, eyes roving over how your entrance is still clenching reflexively around nothing and how your clit twitches with every clench, both overstimulated and in search of something more.

You’re barely done with coming down from your last high when Haechan moans loudly, at his limit, and buries his face between your legs, tongue delving into your folds as you squirm and whimper.

“Haechan, holy shit—” you gasp, squirming away from him, but he just winds his wiry arms around your thighs and tugs you back to the edge of the bed, roughly massaging your clit with his tongue. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, slow down—”

“Tastes so good,” Haechan moans, gaze flicking up to look at you. His hair is all messed up from the numerous times your legs closed around his head and his glasses are fogged up with the heat radiating from your body and his heavy panting, but you can clearly see a wild look in his eyes, his gaze hungrily drinking in the sight of you in front of him. “Don’t wanna stop—don’t make me stop—please—”

“Haechan, baby, please take it easy,” you pant, but Haechan pays you absolutely no mind, his thick tongue slithering into your entrance and drawing out a sharp whine from you as you struggle to sit up, trying the whole while to swat his head away so you can catch your breath.

Your hand barely clutches at a lock of Haechan’s hair before Jaemin’s pulling your hands behind your back and settling you against his chest, his incredibly strong and firm grip leaving you stuck in place as Haechan has his way with your pussy.

“Let him have his fun,” Jaemin purrs in your ear as Haechan laps at your entrance before stuffing his tongue back in as far as it’ll go. “Can’t tell you how long he’s been waiting for this moment.”

“But—” you whimper, walls clenching helplessly around Haechan’s greedy tongue. 

“Doesn’t that feel so good, princess?” Jaemin coos fondly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. You turn your head slightly to look at him with pleading eyes in the hopes he’ll have mercy, but he just chuckles, moving both your wrists to one of his hands before cupping your chin with the other and tilting your face back to his to connect your lips in a slow, passionate, deeply overwhelming kiss. 

You can taste your arousal on his tongue as well as a hint of the gum he was chewing earlier, and you keen weakly into the kiss, sloppily moving your mouth with his as Haechan slurps your arousal eagerly before he sucks your clit into his mouth, presses it between his lips, and moans loudly, the vibrations mixed with all of the lewd noises making you hurtle towards yet another high.

“Oh, shit—” you cry out against Jaemin’s lips as Haechan tongue-fucks you to another orgasm, his blunt nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he claws at you in a desperate attempt to keep you against his mouth. Jaemin’s hand leaves your chin and moves to grope your breast, his large hand kneading and massaging the flesh and tugging at your nipple as he dots slow, wet kisses down your neck and shoulder. 

“Could stay down here forever,” Haechan grunts, and your eyes widen even in their exhausted, drained state as you start to struggle against Jaemin’s grip and fight to close your legs.

“Please leave my poor clit alone,” you plead, finally wrenching one of your hands free from Jaemin’s clutches and clapping it over your core protectively. Haechan barely even pauses, just starts licking at your fingers with desperate little moans and grunts. “Can one of you please just fuck me?”

They both go stiff, looking at each other wordlessly, before Jaemin releases you completely and switches spots with Haechan, maneuvering his length out of his sweats and boxers, and oh—

“You’re big, too,” you mumble in surprise, and he arches an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Did you think it was going to be small?” 

“Well, no, but I definitely didn’t think it’d be that big.” you mutter, and he snickers, lifting your hips to push you further back on the bed. He spreads your legs wider and looks at your core, eyes roving over your glistening folds and inner thighs with such unadulterated desire that you’re tempted to close your legs out of embarrassment.

“Haechan got you nice and wet for me, yeah?” he murmurs, pumping his fist up and down his cock slowly before slapping the underside of his length on your poor, hypersensitive clit and grinning when you jolt from the stimulation. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

“Only one way to find out,” you reply breathlessly, and he laughs, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right about that,” he grunts as he pushes into you. Both of you react instantly; his jaw clenches while yours drops, and he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as a breathy half-whimper, half-sigh escapes you. 

Haechan watches you two with rapt attention, eyes flicking from your face to your breasts to where Jaemin’s length is slowly disappearing into you.

“Sweet pussy’s sucking me right in, princess,” Jaemin drawls with a smug grin. “Wanted this that badly, huh?”

“Shut—up—” you gasp as he bottoms out, the absolutely full-to-the-brim sensation dizzying and overwhelming and delicious all at once.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jaemin obliges, brows knitting together as he pulls out slowly and thrusts back in with a quick snap of his hips. You cry out in pleasure and the corner of his mouth quirks upward in smug satisfaction and amusement before he does it again… and again… and again until he’s built up a steady rhythm, every thrust punctuated by a plaintive moan from you.

His hands glide over everywhere he can reach before seeking purchase in your hips, fingertips digging into the flesh there as he drives his length into you.

“You love this, don’t you?” Jaemin coos as Haechan presses your breasts together and wraps his lips around one nipple, sucking as he tugs at the other bud. “You gonna tell your friends how good we fucked you?”

“Mm—yes,” you pant, and Jaemin grins. 

“Gonna tell ‘em that two little nerds from your Biology class fucked you stupid, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, nodding vigorously. “Mm-hmm—”

“Thought so,” he replies with a dark chuckle before draping one of your legs over his shoulder, angling his hips toward it, and fucking intently into a spot that, you realize after the burst of pleasure from his first thrust, must be your g-spot. 

“Ho–ly shit,” you gasp, clutching at Haechan for something you can use to brace yourself. Jaemin’s thrusts send him into you nice and deep and you’re slowly but surely losing your mind with every stroke, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he fucks into you. Your fingers catch Haechan’s thigh once more, clutching onto the warm flesh in an attempt to ground yourself.

Haechan groans and responds by swirling his tongue around your nipple slowly before flicking it back and forth quickly, using a finger to replicate his actions on your other breast.

“Please—fuck—I’m gonna cum—” you warn Jaemin, and he nods eagerly, letting a hand drag across your body from your hip to your clit, thumb sliding between your messy, wet folds to reveal the sensitive button between them. You inhale sharply when he starts to rub it in circles with the same thumb, fingertips resting lightly on your stomach as if he’s not driving you absolutely insane. “Oh, my God—cumming—I’m cumming—!”

“Me too, princess,” he groans, his hips speeding up as he chases after his own high. You climax first, letting out a drawn out whine, with Jaemin following shortly after, the male burying his length in you and pumping you full of his cum as he groans in pleasure under his breath.

“My turn,” Haechan grunts as Jaemin pulls out of you, both males watching as milky white cum drips from your entrance. “That’s so fucking hot,” Haechan mumbles in awe before reaching for your hands to gently guide you to a sitting position. “Can you ride me, pretty?”

“If my legs don’t give out,” you mumble, and he chuckles, sitting against where your bed meets the wall and patting his lap invitingly. You carefully straddle his lap, fingers wrapping around the thick head of his length as you guide his tip to your entrance and start to ease down onto him. Haechan gapes up at you, prompting you to coo affectionately. “Do you mind if I do it myself?” you ask sweetly as you sink down on it further, your nipple grazing his lips as you move against him, and he shakes his head emphatically, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose slightly. “Good,” you praise softly. “You’re not going to cum early, are you?” you ask with a small frown, and Haechan shakes his head again, the glasses sliding further and further down his nose. You gently push the glasses up, and he smiles appreciatively, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple while it’s near his mouth.

“Feels amazing,” he moans, and you smile fondly. You didn’t get a chance to see his length in all its glory, but you can definitely feel every thick inch of his cock as it stretches you open. He’s not quite as long as Jaemin, but he makes up for it in girth, his length barely fitting in your fist as you finish settling down on him.

When you’ve finally managed to fit all of his girthy length inside of you, you lift up slightly, rocking your hips forward for more friction, and Haechan moans out loudly, leaning forward to suck your nipple into his mouth. He cups your breasts, holding them up and together, and alternates running his tongue over both buds, occasionally sucking on a nipple with a low moan of satisfaction.

“More,” Haechan gasps out.

“More?” you ask, confused and lightheaded from all the pleasure you’re receiving.

“Yeah—need you to move faster,” he grunts through gritted teeth, and you suck your teeth.

“You wanted me on top when I told you my legs might give out—” you start to protest, and he pulls your face to his, kissing you to shut you up.

“Need it like this,” Haechan growls under his breath, swiftly maneuvering you two around so you’re lying on your back and he’s on his knees on the bed between your legs. “Hold these for me?” he asks, pressing your knees as close to your chest as they’ll go. As you tentatively hug your legs to your chest, Haechan spreads your folds apart with two fingers, sucking in a loud breath at the sight before he spits directly on your core, a gasp escaping you at the sensation of the warm saliva dripping down your folds.

He rests the underside of his cock on your clit, slowly rocking his hips forward to drag his thick length against your clit, and chuckles when you keen with pleasure.

“You’re so nasty,” Haechan sighs the words like you’re his dream come true, and based on the way his face contorts when he pushes into you, you just might be. He wastes no time, drilling into you at a quick, ruthless pace that has you moaning mindlessly with literally no idea what’s coming out of your mouth. “So fucking nasty for letting me do this to you,” he grunts, brows furrowed as one hand cups your chin. “Open.” 

You oblige, tongue lolling out without being asked, and he grins, leaning over you and letting more saliva drip from his mouth to your waiting tongue. Haechan dips down lower, maintaining his thrusts as he messily moves his lips against yours, his tongue and spit getting everywhere, and he whines desperately into the kiss, his hand moving from your chin to between your legs where he starts to toy with your poor clit.

A choked wail of overstimulation slips from you before you can even process it, and Haechan silences you by kissing you again, mumbling, “I can’t believe you’re letting me do this to you—perfect little fuckdoll—gonna fuck you so full of cum, gonna breed you—”

“Holy shit—breed me, yes, breed me—” you pant, nodding eagerly, and you might be imagining it, but Haechan’s thrusts seem to get impossibly deeper like he genuinely might take you up on that offer.

“Gonna breed you, pretty girl—stuff you full of my cum—give you a fucking baby—make you all mine—”

“Want it—Haechan, please—yours, I’m yours—” you can barely keep up with his heated dialogue, your eyes rolling back into your head in ecstasy as you fall apart on his length.

Haechan’s lips seal over yours, tasting your desperate cries as he fucks you foolish, making a weak, overwhelmed moan come from you and your body produce a deep, full-body shudder that travels as pleasure races through you, electrifying your bloodstream. 

Haechan isn't far behind, his tongue playing with yours almost lazily as his thrusts slow to a stop before he buries himself in you, emptying his seed into you and filling you with an impossibly large load of cum. He groans against your lips, slowly pulling out to the tip and staring down at how his length is coated with a blend of all of your cum with a deep-seated satisfaction.

“Holy shit,” he pants, flopping onto his back. “That was incredible.”

“You’re telling me,” you laugh. “Where did you two learn all that?”

“We watch a lot of porn.” Jaemin says, sheepish for the first time.

“And it taught you all of that?” you remark, incredulous.

“It taught us more, too,” Haechan adds, leaning over you with a grin. “Wanna see?”

“So, you’re telling me those two nerds from your class dicked you down… and they did it well?” Jimin remarks over your lunch in the cafeteria, eyes wide, and you scowl at her.

“Their names are Haechan and Jaemin.” you correct her, and she chuckles sheepishly. “But yes, they may have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

“Well, who would’ve thought…” Jimin comments, her expression thoughtful, and you snap loudly to get her attention. “What?”

“Those two are mine now. You can’t have them.” you state, and she frowns.

“Both of them? Aren’t you greedy?”

You shrug. “Don’t care. Mine.”

“What if they find out you’re actively laying a claim to them? Hm? Aren’t you supposed to be helping them get girls?” Jimin points out, and you frown slightly before pulling your phone out and scrolling through your messages before pressing the “Dial” button. “Who are you calling?”

“Shh.” you say distractedly, placing the call on speakerphone and waiting patiently as it rings once, twice, then stops, the other person on the line picking up. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Haechan greets, sounding slightly concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you assure him. “Is Jaemin with you?”

“Yeah, he’s right here—did you wanna talk to him?” he asks.

“Both of you, actually. Can he hear me?”

“Hi, princess,” Jaemin calls through the phone, and Jimin’s brows lift in surprise.

“Princess?” she mouths at you, and you smile, nodding.

“Hi, Jaemin. I just wanted to ask you guys a question.”

“Shoot,” Haechan says with audible wariness in his voice.

“You’re both… mine, right?” you say carefully, and Haechan sucks in a sharp breath before you hear a thudding noise. “Haechan?”

“I’m here!” he squawks, sounding slightly far away. There’s a rustling noise, and then his voice comes in clearer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “What happened?”

“He dropped the phone because he’s an idiot.” Jaemin calls out, and you laugh as Haechan shushes him forcefully. 

“An answer to my question would be nice, you know.” you tease lightly.

“I’m yours if you want me to be,” Jaemin replies smoothly, and you smile even though they can’t see you.

“Honestly, I’m yours even if you don’t.” Haechan adds, and your smile only widens as you shoot Jimin an “I told you so” glance.

“That’s good to hear.” you reply, your smile creeping into your voice, and Haechan clears his throat pointedly. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, are you ours?” Haechan asks hopefully, and you look over at Jimin as you reply.

“Absolutely.” 

“Oh, thank God.” he mumbles, and you giggle.

“So, I’m guessing you two are done with your lessons on how to get girls?” you suppose, nibbling your bottom lip nervously.

“Yeah,” Haechan confirms, and you’re surprised by just how relieved you are. “We got the only girl that matters.”

“You’re too cute.” you chuckle. “Wanna come over later?”

“Yes—” Haechan blurts out before composing himself to say, “yes, absolutely.”

“Good. Six sound good?”

“Sounds perfect,” he sighs happily. “See you then, pretty.”

“Bye, baby,” you coo into the phone, and his excited squeal is quiet but unmistakable. “Bye, other baby.”

“Bye, princess. See you at six.” Jaemin calls out, and you smile widely before hanging up and smiling proudly at Jimin.

“My boys didn’t disappoint me.” you remark, pleased, and Jimin huffs petulantly.

“Man. I’m happy for you, but I wish I had two cute nerds at my beck and call.”

“Stop calling them nerds,” you correct, and she rolls her eyes.

“Wish I had two cute guys at my beck and call.” she amends her statement, and you smile, satisfied.

“Yeah, I’m pretty lucky, huh?” you muse, and Jimin sighs, a smile curling at her lips.

“Yeah… would you ever wanna share?” she asks with a wiggle of her brows. “Ow! There was no need to flick me.”

“There was every need. Avert your eyes from my men, you lustful wench.”

“Lustful wench? You’re horrible. And greedy! And selfish. Just horrible and greedy and selfish.” she complains, and you shrug, uncaring as you compose a text to your new… boyfriends?

you have created a group message. you have named the group message “power throuple.” you [17:05pm] hi boyfies :)  haechan [17:07pm] boyfies…. i’m weak in the knees jaemin [17:08pm] haechan stand up jaemin [17:08pm] hi baby girl you loved “hi baby girl” haechan [17:10pm] why would i stand up if i could lie down and have our pretty girlfriend sit on my face? 😁 you [17:11pm] you’re bolder over text, huh? haechan [17:12pm] can you blame me? have you seen yourself? you [17:12pm] i have…  haechan [17:13pm] so you know how good you look. don’t judge me when i can’t get my words out in person you [17:15pm] i happen to find it cute when you can’t get your words out jaemin [17:16pm] i find it cute when YOU can’t get your words out you [17:16pm] and when would that be? jaemin [17:17pm] don’t tell me you’ve forgotten so soon… you [17:17pm] i have :( maybe i need a reminder? jaemin liked your message “i have :( maybe i need a reminder?” jaemin [17:18pm] maybe we should come over earlier to jog your memory you [17:20pm] maybe you should. how about 5:45? jaemin liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” haechan liked your message “maybe you should. how about 5:45?” you [17:22pm] great!! it’s a date :)

“What am I, chopped liver?” Jimin complains as you giggle down at your phone.

“Sorry… and I’m even more sorry for having to cut this short.” you apologize sheepishly as you start to gather your things. 

“You’re kidding…” Jimin remarks, incredulous. “Flat-leaver!”

“I’ll text you after everything,” you assure her, stuffing your notebook in your bag and your phone in your bag’s front pocket. “Gotta go get ready!”

“You’re the worst.” she huffs, but there’s a smile on her face as she rolls her eyes. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

“Rawr.” You make a claw with your fingers, and she stops short, blinking at you with a blank expression. “Too much?”

“Never do that again.”

You nod in understanding. “Copy.”

tadaaaaa i hope you enjoyed! if you liked it, please shoot me an ask or write something nice in the tags :D i love (positive) feedback!

[nerdlvr]

✩ BDILF ; noun (boyfriend's dad i'd like to fuck)

(MDNI)

smut , dilf jaemin x reader , boyfriend's dad jaemin , age gap , both consenting adults btw , manhandling , pussy eating , juicy pussy , degrading kink , mocking , jaemin talking in third person , raw no lube no condom , lots of dirty talk , petnames , he loves laughing at u , choking/gaggin? , insane backshots , he's better than ur bf , requested here ! , lmk if i missed anything

"you smell like sex."

you shivered as you felt him get close to you, his breath soft against your ear.

"w-what are you talking about?" your grip on the counter was tight, knuckles turning white as you held your breath.

his low chuckle rang throughout the kitchen, his hands gently running along your hair, "just saying-" his fingers tangled in your hair, tugging lightly so your head tilted back, "if he just fucked you, i don't understand why you're out here getting your own water."

he let go of your hair, instead reaching up towards the open cabinet to grab the cup you had forgotten you were reaching for.

his soft bulge pressed against your ass, the thin shorts you had on leaving nothing to the imagination.

the clink of the cup placed in front of you made you flinch, your attention back on the cup of water you had come out to get.

you watched as his veiny hand gripped the glass, the other reaching to turn on the faucet, collecting the cold water into the cup.

he turned towards you, cup in hand, "drink." he held the cold glass to your lips, his smile soft as his eyes met yours.

he reached his free hand out to cup under your chin, collecting any drops that threatened to spill as you slowly drank the water.

your eyes never left his as the water finished, his thumb quickly replacing the rim of the glass as he swiped across your lips to dry the area.

"good girl. now head to bed- it's late."

.

your body tingled as you walked back into your boyfriend's room, hands rubbing at your bare arms to ease the goosebumps that had formed on your skin.

"baby?" you called out to your boyfriend, his soft snores being the only response.

great. you sat on the edge of the bed, thighs slightly pressing together as you bit your lip. what to do, what to do?

you had planned to come back to your boyfriend, asking him to fuck you again, hopefully making you cum this time, as you thought of his insanely attractive dad calling you his good girl.

but instead he was fast asleep, lips slightly twitching as he entered dreamland. if he were awake, would he even be able to fulfill your sick little fantasy? the simple answer was no. you had to do something.

.

and that's how you ended up in front of mr. na's door, you voice softly calling out for him.

your breath caught in your throat as the door cracked open, the tall dark haired man peeking through, "oh- it's you-" he opened the door further.

you gulped as you scanned his body, a tight black tank top hugging his body, his cock lazily bobbing in his pajama pants.

your eyes moved up to meet his, "uh- i was going to-"

"you know you can just knock anytime."

you nodded curtly, hands coming behind your back to fidget with your shorts, "y-yeah, i just didn't wanna wake-" you turned your head towards across the hall.

he hummed in understanding a small smirk playing on his lips, "is that right? then come in-" he reached towards your shoulder, warm hand grazing along your arm, "you're gonna catch a cold out there."

.

you stood awkwardly in the center of his room, watching as he let out a grunt, positioning himself comfortably on his desk chair.

his arms spread open, fingers gesturing for you to approach him, "come here princess, tell me what's wrong."

you shuffled towards him, stopping to stand in between his legs, "i don't know why i came actually- i was just- just-" your voice drifted off as his hands came up to rub against your thighs, fingers gently pulling at the fabric of your shorts.

he looked up at you, eyes soft, "is it cold in my son's room?"

your hand came up to play with your lip, a small nod confirming his suspicions.

"you think mr. na can help you get warm?" his hands grazed the bottom of your ass, a slight ache building in between your legs.

you let out a breath, chest rising and falling with nerves, "yes mr. na."

you tried to back away, his arm caging you in as he stood up suddenly, his chest pressed against yours, "sweet girl, he has no idea how to treat you- sit."

he turned you towards his chair, hands softly pushing you down, "it's okay, i'll treat you right hm? will you let me?"

your eyes followed him as he kneeled in front of you, his hands never leaving your thighs, "words baby- use your words."

your breath shuddered as he planted a kiss to your knee, his lips soft and warm, "y-yes mr. na."

he smiled into the next kiss, right in the middle of your thigh, "good girl, lets take these off then okay?" he reached for the band of your shorts, chuckling softly as your hips rose up to help him.

"listen so well my baby-" he kissed along your thighs as he slid your panties down with your shorts, your legs instinctively spreading open in front of him.

"oh wow-" he reached forward to run his finger through your folds, a soft moan leaving his lips as your juices dripped onto the leather seat, "can't believe that fool's over there sleeping when this little pussy is begging to be fucked-"

you whined softly, hips rutting up against his teasing finger, "please mr. na-"

he scooted closer towards your core, breath fanning against your core as he examined you. two of his fingers moved up to spread your folds, juices coating your entire cunt.

"wanna get fucked by your boyfriend's dad that much princess? only mr. na can give you what you want hm?" his smirk was wide as he taunted you, a gentle finger running along your core as he waited for your reply.

"y-yes mr. na- want you to- to- mmnh."

his tongue lapped at your clit, his soft chuckle vibrating along your core as he tasted you. he wasn't like your boyfriend at all, taking his time with your cunt as if it were his last task on earth.

his movements were smooth, almost painfully slow as he swirled his tongue around your heat, sucking up any of your juices that threatened to spill.

you looked down to watch him, his eyes were shut, mouth fully engulfing your core as he brought his arms up to wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer towards his mouth.

"m-mister- oh!"

his tongue moved down to prod at your entrance, a low groan leaving his lips as you gushed on his tongue.

"s-stop i'm gonna-"

he kissed up your core, lips coated in your juices as he stopped to smile up at you, "gonna cum baby? isn't that the point?"

you blushed deeply, hands coming up to cover your face as you shook your head.

"no? why don't you wanna cum angel hm?"

he kissed up your tummy, hands coming up to pull at your wrists so he could see your face.

you bit your lips as you looked at his flushed cheeks, eyes trailing down to his now hard bulge in his pants, "i-"

"oh i see- dirty girls wants to come on nana's cock right?"

you nodded shyly, glossy eyes and pouty lips looking up at the man you had once seen as your father in law, "want your cock so bad mr. na."

he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you off the seat, "whatever princess wants, she gets."

his kisses were persistent, on your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your slick still wet on his lips as he placed them on your skin.

"you're so beautiful-" you turned your face away, feeling your cheeks begin the heat up, "but i need you face down for me- need to fuck this pussy properly."

he gripped your waist softly, turning you around to press you against his bed, your ass sticking up in the air.

"shit- so perfect baby."

you heard him rustle behind you, his pants long forgotten on the floor as he struggled to pull his shirt over his head.

he bundled the shirt in his hand, leaning forward to hold it out in front of your face, "open-" you complied, jaw adjusting uncomfortably as he pressed the fabric into your mouth. "wouldn't want my poor son to hear his girlfriend getting the best dick in her life now would we?"

you grunted against his shirt, eyes squeezing shut as he sunk into your heat, each inch of his length more painful than the last.

"easyy sweet girl-" he ran his hand along your spine, slightly easing your tense figure, "how can i fuck this pretty pussy if you're so damn tight? won't even let me push all the way in."

he wasn't all the way in?

he chuckled as your worried eyes turned to meet his, a soft smile on his lips, "just a little more, i know you can do it- look."

you gasped as he quickly snapped his hips against your ass, your stomach clenching at the sudden fullness.

"see-" he rocked his hips against yours, a mocking laugh leaving his lips as your loud moan was muffled against the fabric of his shirt, "pussy was made for me baby."

all these years you had thought your boyfriend had gotten his horrible bed skills from his father, a sad case of hereditary bad dick, but you were thankfully proven wrong by his insanely big dicked dad, his sharp thrusts almost too good.

"awe poor baby cant even speak- 'ts too much for you hm?" he laughed to himself, hand reaching down to push his shirt farther into your mouth.

"next time when he's not here, i'm gonna have the whole fucking neighborhood hear how much of a slut you are for your boyfriend's daddy."his chuckle rang in your ears as he pistoned his hips into yours, his pace relentless. he leaned down to press his chest against your back, hands moving upward to grip at your shoulders, pulling you back to meet his thrusts.

"no one can treat you this good baby- no one but me." your hair was a mess against the sheets as you nodded dumbly, eyes practically rolling into the back of your head as you felt your orgasm approaching.

his hips were angled perfectly, like he knew the inside of your body, the tip of his cock rubbing right along that sweet patch.

"right there baby, right? can tell by the way you're clenching around me baby- bet it feels so, so good."

his dirty words made your head spin, your teeth practically grinding against the fabric of his tank top. you felt your stomach grow tense, your toes curling tightly as you tapped your foot against the bed, hips drawing inward a you felt your orgasm approach.

you turned your head to press your forehead against the bed, trying to focus on your breathing to avoid screaming your lungs out as you felt your orgasm hit you like a train.

he grabbed your twitching body, his length still sliding along your walls as he hungrily chased his own high.

"just- just a little bit more- fuck, fuck, fuck-"

you released his shirt from your mouth, a loud whine leaving your lips as he slapped his hips against your harshly, his body still as he pressed deep into you, his cum coating your insides.

you both let out a huff, your bodies falling limply onto the bed as you tried to catch your breath.

you felt his strong arm, press down on you, stopping you from turning over, "don't- don't move-"

you laughed softly as he grunted loudly, trying to lift himself up, "i'll get you water- and something to clean you up- don't you dare move."

he got up to walk out of the room, stopping to turn around and check on you.

you were still there laying on his bed, but now giggling as you tried to get under his covers.

"good girl-" he smiled in your direction, "i'll be right back."

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. plot plot plot what is a plot when you can just have vibes and a vague narrative direction... if you MUST know you go to your brother's hockey team back-to-uni party accidentally matching one of the members with your cowgirl barbie costume. hopelessly romantic sunghoon sees this as a sign that the two of you are meant to be together, but you're impossible to read and soon the two of you settle on an ambiguous secret friends with benefits relationship. unfortunately, conflict ensues.

genre. strangers to friends to fwb to lovers..?? its not an asahicore fic if it doesnt have fluff angst AND smut, brothers best friend, jock x nerd type vibe, slight miscommunication put your pitchforks away and hear me out pls it works out i promise, reader has ISSUES 💜 loser loverboy sunghoon, its mostly in his pov, i know nothing about ice hockey

word count. 39.5k 😂

a/n. inspired by @moonlighthoon's request for the 1k trope event! sorry it took ages to write but i hope you like it and that i met ur expectations!!!! hope everyone else enjoys it too, this is the longest fic ive ever written and im quite proud of it, pls pls pls let me know what u thought <333 shoutout to @zreamy .. good luck with your studies, thank u for beta reading and making this fic exponentially better as u always do ⭐️ credit to @/plutism for the dividers :)

Some men never think of it. You did. You’d come along And say you’d nearly brought me flowers But something had gone wrong.

The shop was closed. Or you had doubts - The sort that minds like ours Dream up incessantly. You thought I might not want your flowers.

It made me smile and hug you then. Now I can only smile. But, look, the flowers you nearly brought Have lasted all this while. - Wendy Cope, Flowers

When Sunghoon falls in love, it usually goes as quickly as it came.

Just to name a few:

There had been Ahn Yujin, whose family had moved next to his when he was twelve, and whose dog got on perfectly with his. His crush on the cute girl next door grew with every walk the four of them took but disappeared the second she ditched him to walk home from school with Na Jaemin. 

A few years later, there had been Bae Sumin, who sat in front of him and always had her hair up in a ponytail he found exceedingly pretty. An appointment at the hairdresser was enough for him to stop liking her, as if his interest in her had been laying in the ten centimeters of hair she had cut off. 

In his junior year of high school, there had been Kim Yerim, a college student that tutored him in Math and English. She was three years older, but that didn’t deter him—what did was the fact that she was dating a college graduate. She showed him a picture once, and the guy had biceps probably twice the size of Sunghoon’s. He thought it was safer to give up on her than to fight such a bulky guy five years his senior. 

The first time it stuck was during his first year of college. She was his coach’s daughter and he liked the way she would smile at him when she came to watch their practice. Sunghoon didn’t like to think about her, mainly because even after she broke his heart, for a while there, he continued to love her. 

So, when he first spots you from across the room at the Welcome Back costume party thrown by his hockey team, unintentionally the Cowboy Barbie to his Cowboy Ken, he tries not to read too much into it. Barbie was a hit this summer, it’s an easy and topical costume, of course there’s a pretty girl wearing the same bright pink cowboy hat he is. It doesn’t mean she’s the love of his life.

Right?

He knows you from the pictures that littered the walls of Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon’s apartment last year, from Instagram posts, both yours and your friends’, from your video calls with Jake, who dragged him into the camera’s view. Say hi to my sister, he’d insist, like Sunghoon was a child who didn’t want to greet his great-great-aunt. He’d dip in to say hi as requested, ask how you were, and mumble me too like a fool when you said you heard so much about him and were excited to meet him in real life. 

These are the things Sunghoon knows about you: Jake’s older sister by a year, currently on a year abroad in Rome, studies something fancy like Classics, which he hadn’t known people still did in the twenty-first century, deep attachment to Stardew Valley in first year, rarely seen with the same man twice, very pretty. Absurdly so. He’s also weirdly obsessed over the texts you’ve sent to the group chat he was added to at the beginning of last year—scarce, short, elusive. Never more than two sentences, and always long after the conversation was over. But sometimes you’d send photos and videos out of nowhere, of your adventures or of funny things you saw online, and he always hearted them. He even replied to it sometimes (brave hahas or that’s so cool!s), in hopes that it would make you like him, would make you think, he gets me. 

The two of you have never formally yet because you left for Italy the year he started university. He’s been nervous about meeting you since the first time the group told him about you. 

Now that he is about to, he can hear his heart thumping so loudly in his ears, it drowns out the bass of the music. He’s glad he gets to see you before having to talk to you—he’s not sure he could take in your presence and form coherent words at the same time. He watches you laugh with your friends, the smile lines that form like dimples around your mouth, the strands of hair you keep tucking behind your ear. Then someone joins your group—except it’s not just someone, it’s Minjeong, her denim jacket so often worn he recognises her from the back, and he realizes the people you’re with have been Chaewon and Yunjin this whole time. The three of them have been banging on about you all year, even more so due to the fact that their replacement flatmate was dreadful, a Spanish girl who only hung out with other Spanish exchange students and looked the girls up and down when they tried to invite her out somewhere.

You turn towards Minjeong, and before he knows it, he’s in your line of sight, and your eyes meet. Confusion, then a flash of recognition goes through your eyes. He had been resting his elbow on a countertop, cider bottle in hand and watching you, he realizes, not unlike a creep, but now he stands up straight and looks around him as if you hadn’t just caught him staring. Before he can find a way out, Jake appears by his side and throws an arm around his shoulders, guiding him into the throng of party-goers and, coincidentally, closer to you.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

“What?” Sunghoon says, tone coming out more irritated than he means it to. He’s just had to give up on making a good first impression on you, and he doesn’t even have the time to think of a way to redeem himself. When he dares to look back at you, your eyes are already on him, a small smile on your lips. You probably hate him already.

“My sister is dressed just like you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys came together or something. Hey, guys!” Jake calls out, and all of a sudden, it’s not just your eyes on him, it’s everyone’s. Well, to be fair, they’re also looking at Jake. But you’re only looking at Sunghoon, and he can’t look away from you either, can’t even manage the politeness to hug everyone in greeting like Jake is doing now. He watches as your eyes rake over his figure, taking him in, assessing him, and he suddenly feels awkward in his costume that matches yours, like he’s somehow overstepped a boundary, like you might think he’s asked around about your costume, found out you were going as Barbie and decided to match you so you’d think the two of you were meant together, like he had two minutes ago, and come to the fairly reasonable decision that he was the weirdest man on Earth. But then you meet his eyes, smile a kind, genuine smile, and his whole body relaxes. 

“Hey, Hoon!” Chaewon calls, arms open wide. He remembers himself and hugs everyone, even you, and he has to pretend like this is completely fine and normal, like his hands aren’t practically shaking as his arms circle your shoulders in a two-second embrace. 

You squeeze one of his shoulders, and keeping his countenance is a Herculean task. He feels like those people centuries ago who passed out at the sight of a lady’s ankle. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, peering at him over the rim of your red cup. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon feels the blush growing on his face; he wasn’t expecting so much of your attention so quickly. He takes a swig of his lukewarm cider, hoping if he seems drunk, it might explain his redness. “Good things, I hope,” he says, aware of the unoriginality but unable to come up with anything better.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ve made you out to be a saint.” You’ve not once broken eye contact or stopped smiling—it should intimidate him, but instead, it makes Sunghoon feel like you’ve known each other for ages and that this isn’t your first conversation at all. He finds himself able to relax into a smile, and manages to meet your eyes for more than three seconds at a time.

“You don’t believe them?”

You pause, gaze zeroing in on him even more intensely than previously, smile turning smirk-like. Sunghoon’s heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe he’s not that relaxed. “I don’t know you well enough to make up my mind yet. But we’ll be seeing plenty of each other from now on, won’t we?”

This is exactly what Sunghoon has been warned about. You at parties, the way you look at guys, the way you talk to them. Sunghoon has been the audience of more than one recreation of such a scene, Yunjin pretending to be you, Chaewon pretending to be your “victim,” as the others liked to call them. Because once you had set your eyes on a man, he had little chance of making it out. Jay prides himself as being the only survivor, although he has to admit it’s only because Jake interrupted your conversation, telling him, “I see you’ve met my sister.” And Jay was not the kind of person that got off with their friends’ siblings, especially since his and Jake’s friendship was only a week long at that point, and he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere in their dorm for the rest of the year just because his dick had gotten the best of him. His words. Whenever they were all hanging out together and they called you, one of the girls would inevitably ask if you had “turned any Italian boys into men” or if you had been “terrorizing the good men of Rome recently.” You would either roll your eyes or say this was not a conversation to be had in front of your brother.

Sunghoon had been sure they were exaggerating—it takes two to tango, as they say, and it wasn’t like you ensnared innocent men into your trap. They had to be willing, to want something from you just as much as you wanted something from them. He’d also gotten them to admit it wasn’t that frequent, that you weren’t looking for a new prey every party, just once in a while when you found someone you liked. (He’d been very quiet when Jay asked why he was trying so hard to defend you.)

But now that he is on the receiving end of your alluring smiles, he starts to understand how one could fall for you without meaning to. He knows he can’t — Jake probably wouldn’t take to it kindly, and he didn’t want to spoil the dynamic of his best group of friends at uni — but he has a feeling that ten minutes of talking to you would be enough to shake his resolve.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure we will. Jake said you studied a lot, but I’m sure we’ll get to hang out. All of us, I mean,” he quickly adds, lest you think he’s already asking you to hang out one-on-one. Sunghoon would not be that forward.

“Of course. I have to see if you did a good enough job replacing me for a year.” Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and before he can blurt out something weirdly laudatory like “I could never replace you, I would never even try, I don’t know you but you’re clearly far superior to me in every aspect and I could never even claim to fill your spot,” you giggle and tell him it’s just a joke. “If anything, I’m happy Jake has managed to make a new friend that he didn’t meet through me, that loser,” you say, and together, you laugh at Jake’s loserness, a topic that will never fail to amuse Sunghoon, although he’s not faring much better in that department. 

“Like, look at him right now,” you say, jerking your head in Jake’s general direction, somewhere behind Sunghoon’s shoulder—and that’s when he realizes that it’s just the two of you standing there, the others gone without him even noticing. Sunghoon turns around, finding the girls, Jay, and a bunch of other people he vaguely recognizes huddled around Jake. They all start chanting his name as he gulps down a giant red cup of beer, then raises the empty cup over his head in victory and crumples it, beaming at the people around him. 

“What is he doing?” Sunghoon asks, laughing at his friend.

“Jay called him over for a beer-off,” you explain. After a beat, you ask, “You didn’t notice?”

The implications are clear in your tone and in your eyes. In the smile playing on your lips, just shy of being a smirk. You didn’t notice because of me, is what you’re really telling Sunghoon—at least, that’s the impression he’s getting. And you’d be right. He was too busy talking to you and trying his best not to make a fool of himself to notice his friends leaving, too engrossed with you to register the sudden disappearance of four people. Across the room, where people have shifted their attention to yet another hockey player downing a sizable amount of beer, he catches Chaewon’s eyes, and she winks at him. Of course—leave it to Chaewon, to whom Sunghoon once made the mistake of drunkenly rambling about how pretty you looked in your Instagram posts last year, to give you and Sunghoon some time alone, “to get to know each other properly,” she would probably say. Although he isn’t sure that small talk over 2000s music counts as getting to know someone. According to the others, she and Yunjin started dating a month into their second year, so Chaewon has proclaimed herself as the goddess of dating and is now always trying to set people up. Sunghoon thinks she’s just living vicariously through her friends now that she has a Mrs. at home.

Because the filter usually at work between the part of Sunghoon’s brain where sentences are formed and his mouth is apparently on leave today, he says, “I do have a pretty distracting sight in front of me.” He’s immediately both mortified and impressed by this sudden bout of confidence, but then you look down and giggle, actually giggle, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and only pride remains. 

“So, Ken?” you ask, a cute attempt to change the subject, taking the fabric of the pink bandana around his neck between your fingers. Sunghoon wonders if you’re going to yank him down to your level, and he thinks he wouldn’t have much of a problem with that. 

He realizes that even though you should technically know each other’s names, you haven’t actually exchanged them, so in a confused but correcting tone, he says, “Um, Sunghoon.” He only belatedly realizes that you hadn’t gotten his name wrong, you were just making a comment on his costume, which he had completely forgotten he was wearing in the first place. Just as he’s about to backtrack and salvage what he can of the situation, you burst into laughter, hand leaving his bandana to cover your mouth as he hides his face behind his own hands, laughing along with you despite himself. 

“I know your name is Sunghoon!” you exclaim. The gratification of hearing you say his name takes away some of his embarrassment. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not Barbie.”

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

The laughter gradually dies down, but your smile stays the same; wide, bright, a smile that exposes your teeth and turns your eyes into crescents. Sunghoon can’t look away. He’s awash with nerves, your gaze simultaneously planting his feet to the ground like they’re full of lead and making him light-headed. His heart is beating so fast, he can barely feel it anymore. 

The two of you stand there, looking and smiling at each other, like in a cliché movie scene where everyone else at the party seems to fade into the background. He has no idea how much time has passed when you break the silence. “It really is nice to finally meet you,” you say, repeating your statement from earlier, as though you mean it more now. 

“It is,” Sunghoon simply replies, because he doesn’t know how else to express the relief of seeing you in the flesh after hearing about you and looking at a digital version of you for a year. The relief, but also the anticipation of what is to come now that he knows he likes you even more now that he’s actually seen you. And improbable as it sounds, you might even feel the same.

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

You nod towards his now empty cup. “Want a refill?”

Together, you make your way through the crowd of increasingly drunk students until you reach the kitchen, where the countertops overflow with open bottles of liquor of all sorts and paper plates with half-eaten pizza slices on them. He watches your every move as you find a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, a bottle of strawberry syrup in a random cupboard that you had to know was there, and a half-empty discarded bottle of lemonade on the counter. You ask him to tell you about last year, everything you missed out on, and so he does. He knows you’ve probably heard it all from the others before, but you still laugh and gasp like it’s the first time you’re hearing about any of it, all the hockey games they won, Jay getting food poisoning from the sketchy pizzeria he kept eating at, Yunjin almost getting into a fistfight with a man twice her size who was flirting with Chaewon. 

You assemble two drinks and hand him one of them. When he takes a sip, his eyes widen at the refreshing and sweet taste. “Good, right?” you say. “I discovered it on a trip to France last summer.”

“Thank God for France. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed drinking beer,” he says.

“That’s probably because you can’t taste the beer at all.”

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

You turn around, lower back against the counter, and take in the current kitchen population. “We really weren’t very original with our costumes tonight.” Sunghoon, who had not taken his eyes off of you this entire time, follows your gaze. He counts five partygoers dressed in some version of Barbie or Ken, and that’s just the kitchen. He doesn’t blame them—the fact that so many people came dressed in costumes at all impresses him, especially for a party on the 10th of September and not the 31st of October. The social committee of the hockey team just seems to really love themed and dress-up parties.

He chuckles, then takes a sip of his drink. It’s really nice. “Yeah, but we look the best.”

Your head whips towards him, eyes glinting with something that makes Sunghoon smile, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. “Should we enter the couple’s costume contest?” you ask.

At the mention of couple, his eyes widen, his brain tricking him into thinking you’ve asked him out for a second. But when what you actually meant dawns on him, the first thing to come out of his mouth is, “There’s a couple’s costume contest?!”

“Mh-hm. The sign-up sheet should be around here.” 

For what feels like the millionth time since he’s started talking to you, his face heats up. “Are non-couples allowed to enter?”

“We’re Barbie and Ken. I’d say that’s enough of a couple, don’t you think?” 

Right. Because he had been thinking of Sunghoon and Y/N, while you obviously meant Barbie and Ken. In the contest, it doesn’t actually matter whether the contestants are dating in real life—it matters that their costumes match. Sunghoon knows that. He just needed a second.

He grins, deep dimples punctuating his cheeks. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Armed with your drinks, you walk around the kitchen in search of the sign-up sheet. You find it on a wall next to the dining table, which has been turned into a beer pong table for tonight’s festivities, and the sheet is almost filled with names already. Sunghoon can only hope that by midnight, when the contest is set to take place, most participants will have had too much to drink to remember it. You write your names on the list, and Sunghoon likes seeing his name in your handwriting so much he almost wants to take a picture.

“There you guys are!”

You both turn around to find Jake stumbling towards you, clearly more intoxicated than when he had left you half-an-hour ago. He rests his arms on your shoulders, forcing Sunghoon down to his height and making you stumble forwards from the sudden added weight. “I’ve been looking all over for you- You’re entering the contest?!”

For a split second, Sunghoon is scared he’s going to get scolded by Jake for trying to hit on his sister, but surprisingly, it’s you he narrows his eyes at. “Y/N, what are you roping my little Hoonie into?”

Sunghoon groans, face perpetually red at this point. Leave it to Jake to make him seem like a total loser. 

You frown at your brother. “I’m not roping your little Hoonie into anything.” Sunghoon wants to bury himself alive. “We agreed on doing it together. Right?” you ask, turning towards Sunghoon and batting your eyelashes at him. It makes him feel a bit better.

He turns back to Jake. “Right. We’re just joining forces to crush the competition.”

Jake scoffs. “As if.” He snatches the pen from your hands and underlines his name as well as Kazuha’s, the girl he came with tonight, three thick black lines that almost erases the names underneath them. “You can’t beat the hockey player and cheerleader combo.”

“Those aren’t even costumes, you guys are a hockey player and a cheerleader,” you protest.

“So?” Jake simply retorts, more attitude in his tone than he would have were he sober.

“So, that defeats the whole purpose of a costume contest.”

Jake knocks on your cowboy hat, and you immediately put it back in place, glaring at him. “As if Barbie was the greatest costume ever. Whatever, let’s just play beer pong so I can defeat you guys twice in one night.”

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

Sunghoon had just been watching your back-and-forth amusedly when you grab his hand, leading him to the side of the table opposite Jake. His fingers tingle under your touch, but just like that, it’s gone. He’d rather keep on holding your hand than play this stupid game, but he isn’t opposed to taking Jake’s ego down a notch, either. The boy can barely stand straight, anyway, so it probably won’t be a very tough match.

Some guy he doesn’t recognize in a striped black-and-white referee t-shirt fills most cups with beer and a couple on each side with shots of vodka—he’s so earnest, Sunghoon isn’t sure whether he’s just taking his costume-slash-role very seriously or if he has genuinely been hired to look over the beer pong matches of the night. Some order in the brutish world of college parties, Sunghoon guesses.

Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jay appear then, exchanging a quick look at the sight of you and Sunghoon together. The two former join your team, while the two latter join Jake’s, as well as other people that Sunghoon vaguely recognizes from other parties. But by the simple action of getting behind him, they become his most trusted allies for at least this part of the night.

You’re a terrible shot, but Sunghoon makes up for it by scoring almost every round. In his defense, he only misses when you come up close to him and whisper in his ear which cup he should go for. Your breath tickles his (oddly sensitive) ears and the combined scents of the strawberry and lemonade on your tongue and your delicate perfume make his head spin. He can barely think straight, so his aim is naturally thrown off—other than that, he makes Jay drink a healthy amount of beer. He almost feels bad for his friend, but he’d arrived late at the party and needed to quickly catch up with everyone’s level of ebriety anyway.

When the opposite team is down to their last cup, a lightning bolt of luck strikes you, and your ball disappears straight into the vodka-filled cup that Jake now has the honor of downing. 

Sunghoon gives you no time to celebrate, to gloatingly pump your fists in the air and point a mocking finger at your brother, because as soon as you make the shot, he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground. When you’re on your feet again, you spin around to find a proud-looking Sunghoon beaming down at you. You burst into giggles and high-five him, your palms perfectly clapping against each other, and he threads your fingers together. A current of electricity rushes through him, and for a second, he swears it’s just the two of you in this packed room.

The moment is cut short by the loud cheers of the others on your team as they shake your shoulders and raise their hands for you to high-five them too. Minjeong flips the other team off and Yunjin has to go hug Chaewon and reassure her it’s nothing personal. It’s really quite easy to make college students happy—or devastated. 

You raise your eyebrows at Jake, who’s busy glaring at you instead of accepting his defeat and taking his shot. With a begrudging sigh, he tips his head back and drinks the vodka in one gulp, the cheers doubling in volume when his face scrunches at the bitter taste of the liquor.

“Don’t act so proud,” he scolds you. “Sunghoon carried your team.”

“Maybe, but she made us win in the end,” Sunghoon retorts, putting an arm around your shoulder. 

Jake scoffs, frowning at Sunghoon’s hand placement before eye-rolling his gaze away. “Whatever.” He slides his phone out of his back pocket and smiles as he shows the two of you his screen. “Would you look at the time? The contest is starting soon.” Then, with an accusatory finger pointed at you, adds, “You may have won this battle, but I’m winning the war.”

He stomps away, presumably to find Kazuha before the contest starts, and it’s your turn to eye-roll at his dramatics. You grab Sunghoon’s hand that hangs off of your shoulders, and together, make your way through the crowd again to the garage, where the contest is taking place. All the alcohol he’s been drinking has definitely started kicking in by now, and he finds himself giggling at nothing with you.

When you reach the threshold, still hand in hand, Sunghoon stops so abruptly behind you that you almost stumble. You look back at him, then follow his gaze towards the garage and the sheer amount of people in there. Worriedly, his eyes take in every single one of the contenders. You let go of his hand and stand in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and putting on a determined expression. You’d almost look like a parent reassuring their kid before their first day of kindergarten if you weren’t so much shorter than him. “Don’t even worry about them, Sunghoon. We look better than anyone here.”

His eyebrows crease. “There’s like, three other Barbie-Ken couples here. Some of these costumes are so original. And do you see their makeup? Is that even possible?” he asks, staring at a couple in scarily realistic cosplay of Simon and Jeanette from Alvin and the Chipmunks, fur and all. He can’t look at them for too long without getting chills.

You shake your head. “Almost everyone here is either a hockey player or a… hockey-affiliated person. You’re the beloved and talented defenseman of the team and I’m the star player’s sister. They’ll love us,” you say with a smile, watching the worry dissipate from his features.

“We’re like nepo babies,” he whispers. His lips break into a grin when your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t know how nepotism works,” he admits, smiling wider when you burst into laughter. “How do you know if I’m talented, anyway? You haven’t seen me play yet.”

Your eyes rake him up and down appreciatively. “I took a wild guess.”

Not unlike a cartoon character, Sunghoon audibly gulps. As a hockey player since his most tender age, and dare he say, a pretty good-looking guy, he is used to girls flirting with him, and he is even hit sometimes by the occasional lightning strike of confidence that allows him to flirt back (he still can’t believe he managed to call you “a distracting sight” without spontaneously combusting). But there’s something in your eyes, in your smile, in the way you talk—something about you that has his breath hitching and his heart racing. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away and hide in a corner or kiss you right then and there.

Heeseung, the captain of the hockey team, announces into a microphone (which Sunghoon wonders where they got the money for) that the contest will start now, so he can neither kiss you nor run away. Instead, he follows you to the side of the room where all the contestants, including Jake and Kazuha, wait for their names to be called out. There are so many participants, it takes way longer than Sunghoon would like for the two of you to step onto the makeshift stage. Judging by the looks on the audience’s faces, everyone is surprised to see you and Sunghoon together—the hockey community at your university may be big, but everyone knows everyone, and gossip travels fast. No one had seen you and Sunghoon together before, for the obvious reason that you hadn’t even met before tonight. But you could be sure that by tomorrow, as silly as it sounds, word will have gone around that you and Sunghoon had participated in a couple costume contest together. 

At least, you give them something of substance to talk about—as you and Sunghoon pose on stage, wearing your brightest smiles to please the crowd, you stand on your toes and press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek. Sunghoon’s eyes burn a hole in the side of your face but you just watch as the audience of drunken 20-somethings goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. Jake is the only one booing. 

Sunghoon is still in shock when the next couple is called forward and you have to step off. His cheeks are redder than before and he can’t quite meet your eyes. Apparently, he also goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. You nudge his shoulder. “See, I told you they’d like us.” 

He feels like a fourteen-year-old for it, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about your soft lips against his cheek, so much so that he barely says a word as the three judges deliberate. If you notice the sudden change in his behavior, you don’t comment on it, perhaps chalking it up to nerves. He’s glad for it—he doesn’t know if he could handle being teased about it, especially from you. Although he’s not sure he wants you to think he’s the kind to stress over a last-minute Halloween costume contest. 

In the end, you don’t win. He suspects it was a rigged contest all along: the couple in the unimpressive Edward and Bella costume are friends with one of the judges, probably leading to their anticlimactic victory. At least it isn’t Simon and Jeannette who win, or Kazuha and Jake, even less original than the winners. Anyway, Sunghoon couldn’t care any less. With your hand in his as you walk back to the main room in search of your other friends, he feels like the biggest victor of the night. He doesn’t even mind it when his teammates tease him about his costume and how good the two of you look together—the smile you shoot him makes putting up with it worth it. He tries to think straight, but between the alcohol and your proximity, he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him.

Jake stumbles into your group, three drinks drunker than when Sunghoon last saw him, enthusiastically reporting that a game of spin the bottle is about to start in one of the rooms upstairs, because what every college party needs is a middle-school game to shake things up. None of the guys seem particularly interested until Jake reveals that the cheerleaders are playing. 

Sunghoon looks down at you, laughing when he sees your mildly disgusted moue. “Don’t feel like playing?”

“Not really, no.” Your eyes linger on his face. “There’s only one person here I want to kiss, anyway.”

All capacity for thought leaves Sunghoon’s brain. He just stares back at you blankly, lips slightly agape, willing himself to say something but also terrified that whatever leaves his mouth might make him seem like the biggest loser ever. 

You couldn’t possibly mean him—but did you? Was he the person you wanted to kiss?

As these questions resound through his head, your gaze drops to his lips. There’s his answer. 

His heart beating wildly in its cage, Sunghoon decides to do one smart thing tonight and leans in, slowly but surely closing the gap between the two of you. Then a sudden vibration in the back pocket of his jeans zaps through him like lightning and he jumps back, as if startled out of the trance you had put him in. Shame flooding his cheeks, he checks his phone; it’s the stupid alarm he set himself earlier to make sure he doesn’t get home too late. Midnight, Cinderella-style. 

You scratch the back of your neck as your eyes dart around the room. For the first time tonight, you look embarrassed—Sunghoon is in disbelief at how pretty you look even then. “I, um,” he starts, clears his throat. “I have this thing tomorrow morning, so I can’t stay too long…” he says guiltily.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he swears that what he sees on your face is disappointment. It makes him want to take it all back, to stay here with you for as long as you want and forget about tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding. “That’s fine. What thing?”

“Oh.” Sunghoon turns an impossibly deeper shade of red, further resembling the strawberry syrup the more he gets himself in these embarrassing situations with you. “Just… choir. I go to choir on Saturday mornings.” He looks down at his feet like he’s just revealed a secret, shameful part of himself.

You burst into laughter, and Sunghoon is scared for a second that you’re making fun of him, and his feelings are a lot more hurt than they should be by someone he just met. Although, to be fair, you don’t feel like someone he just met.

“That’s so cool! It must be such a nice change from all the dudes on the hockey team,” you say, a sweet, curious smile on your lips. Like you mean what you say. Like you might want to know more.

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Definitely a nice change. As much as I love hockey, it’s nice to do something calmer, you know. And I like singing. And the cakes the local grandmas bring.”

“So that’s what it’s all about, really.”

“Yep, you caught me.” Sunghoon still feels the almost-kiss lingering, a tension between the two of you that has him on edge. He feels like he’s just missed his bus because it left a minute earlier than planned. The opportunity is gone, and he would definitely mess everything up, trying to kiss you now. So instead, he decides to leave. Whatever must happen, will happen, even if it’s not tonight. You have the same friends—this is definitely not the last time you will see each other. “Well, I should probably head. I have to be up at eight tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow. The choir grandmas don’t play around.”

“They really don’t.”

“Well, see you around then,” you say, a clumsy laugh falling from your lips as you wrap your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, bringing him into a tight but short hug. You also smell good, he notes to himself. Of course you do.

“See you, Y/N.” Just as he’s about to turn away, you wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Wait. Sunghoon?” He’s only half-surprised at the immense relief he feels to hear his name on your lips. Like you, too, didn’t want to part with him just yet.

“Yeah?” he says, wishing the hope and anticipation aren’t too obvious on his face.

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

When Sunghoon arrives at his neighborhood’s community center, ten minutes before nine a.m., you’re already there. Despite the seven hours of sleep under his belt, he feels like he could’ve done with three more, and the singular cup of instant black coffee he had for breakfast was both atrocious and useless. But your smile has the restorative effect of two Red Bulls and a power nap. You look surprisingly bright, like you either managed to get a very good night’s sleep or are just the biggest morning person to ever exist.

He hugs you when he reaches you on the sidewalk, tighter than he probably should, but you return it. You smell like fresh soap and sugar. The two of you exchange quick greetings before he leads you inside the center. 

“I made some cookies as well.” You point to your tote bag and Sunghoon’s jaw slackens.

“You had time to bake?” 

“Kazuha made me take Jägerbombs, so I felt crazy when I got home. I thought it wouldn’t be fair on the old ladies if they did all the work.”

Sunghoon laughs. “They’re going to love you.”

You follow Sunghoon up two flights of stairs and into a spacious room with a wooden stage. There’s a snacks table on one side of the room that is almost fully decked with plates and tupperwares of all sorts, and although their contents remain covered by tin foil or lids, the coffee and hot water pots are free to use. Most of the chairs are stacked on each side of the room but a few have been put in the middle, the grandmas sitting and chatting there waving at Sunghoon as the two of you walk in. There are about fifteen people in the room so far, most of them older ladies, but not only. There’s a dad that came with his daughter, a couple of teenagers, and a few other adults. It’s quite an eclectic mix, and Sunghoon loves it.

Minjeong is here, too, which Sunghoon realizes he forgot to say until he sees the sheer confusion of finding someone you know in an unexpected place on both of your faces. She walks towards you, suspicious eyes darting between you two.

“Hey,” she says only to Sunghoon before turning to you, arms crossed over her chest. “And what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Minjeong, so nice to see you too!”

“I invited Y/N,” Sunghoon says quickly, although you did technically invite yourself. For some reason, he feels the need to defend you, even though he knows you and Minjeong have been friends for years now, and Minjeong is just always this blunt.

“I didn’t know this was the choir you went to,” you say to Minjeong.

“Oh, this?” She looks around the room. “It’s only the choir I’ve been going to since I was a kid. You’d know that if today wasn’t the first day you showed interest in it, ever.”

“I came to your concerts!”

One of the old ladies calls Sunghoon’s name from the snack table, and he is glad for the diversion. “Right. I’ll let you guys talk this out.” A hand on your shoulder, he smiles down at you. “I’m gonna say hi to the ladies over there. Be back in a minute.” He shoots Minjeong a look as if to say, Be normal. 

As he approaches the small group, one of them asks very loudly if you’re his girlfriend. They all burst into giggles, blushing and eager-eyed like they’re sixteen rather than sixty. Sunghoon would be endeared if you didn’t look so alarmed and Minjeong so horrified, both of you looking at him before turning back to each other and getting into a very heated and secretive discussion. He is bombarded with a hundred questions: what your name is, where you’re from, how did the two of you meet, are you together? No? But you’re so pretty! And he’s such a nice boy! He answers all of their queries to the best of his ability while checking that your conversation with Minjeong hasn’t turned physical—your arms are now also crossed over your chest, and you look annoyed while she looks like she’s accusing you of something, but at least, punches aren’t being thrown. 

Thankfully, it’s only a couple more minutes until the conductor calls for everyone to gather on stage, and a weight is lifted off of Sunghoon’s shoulders once the ladies’ collective attention is no longer on him. He isn’t sure where they came from, or why they’ve decided to make the choir rehearsal their hang-out spot, but there is always a group of women who sit there and knit while chatting quietly or listening to the songs, and they are sometimes joined by children whose parents are part of the choir but don’t want to sing themselves and apparently have nowhere else to go. Sunghoon had been so excited at the prospect of having you come see him that he hadn’t thought of how boring this might be for you, sitting with sixty-year-olds for two hours, listening to an amateur choir go through scales and sing corny romance ballads—they’re rehearsing for a wedding they’ve been hired to sing at. But as the minutes go by, his worry dissipates when the delighted smile on your face hardly falters. He can’t imagine that his choir is that good, but you genuinely look like you’re having a nice time, and it makes Sunghoon stand a little taller, sing a little louder. Your eyes are on him for most of the time, and he blushes every time your gazes meet, but he still can’t keep himself from looking away from the conductor to check on you every few seconds.   

Once rehearsal is over, everyone gathers around the refreshments table. When you tell Sunghoon that he looked good out there, he stuffs his mouth with banana bread to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. Your cookies are a hit, and so is everything else—Sunghoon would be more than happy to watch you eat as many baked goods as you possibly can and chat with the grandmas, but he has something to ask you. Without thinking much, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling you away from the table and towards him. The question that was at the tip of his tongue fades as soon as you meet his eyes, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights, cheeks stuffed with brownie. You’re so cute that words fail him for a second, and when he notices the proximity between the two of you, takes a small, bashful step backwards. You glance at his hand still around your wrist, and he withdraws it like he’s suddenly been burned. 

A playful smile grows on your lips. “Everything alright?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um, well. There’s a bus that takes us from right across the street directly to the beach, if you’re, um, if you’re interested. In going. With me. If you want.”

Your eyebrows cock in surprise, and Sunghoon thinks he’s messed it all up. You shoot Minjeong a quick, worried glance, then seem to think for a second. But when you look back to him, your smile is soft. “That sounds nice.”

An hour later, you’re running around together on the beach—or rather, Sunghoon is running around, and after five minutes of watching him with a smile on your face, he’s convinced you to run around with him. You’ve both long discarded your shoes and socks, jeans scrunched up to your mid-calves, grins so wide, your cheeks start to hurt. The wet sand is hard under your feet and the water cold against your skin. Sunghoon’s t-shirt sticks everywhere you sprayed water on him, and he knows putting his shoes on later will be a whole ordeal, but it doesn’t bother him. Even the gray September sky feels brighter because you’re standing with him underneath it. 

The water-splashing battle quickly has you both out of breath, and Sunghoon is ready to call a truce when you spot something behind him, gasping and running towards it. He turns around to find you picking up a bunch of sandcastle-building toys that must’ve been left behind by some kids. “I haven’t built a sandcastle in such a long time, this is so exciting,” you say, excitement written all over your face. 

As much as he loves seeing the glint of childish amusement in your eyes, Sunghoon keeps looking around in case the owners of these toys might appear out of thin air. “I feel like there’s something immoral about this,” he says, and you stop stacking sand into one of the toys to look at him with a confused frown. “Aren’t we technically stealing from some kids?”

“Sunghoon. If those kids really cared about these plastic toys, they wouldn’t have left them here.”

“What if they come back for them?”

“Then we’ll give them back. We’re not monsters.” That’s all it takes for Sunghoon to give in. He helps dig trenches around the towers you build, carving out small windows on them and apologizing profusely when he accidentally pokes too hard into one of them, destroying half of it. 

The second he notices you shivering, Sunghoon is on his feet, unwrapping the scarf around his neck and laying it like a blanket over your shoulders. “I’m going to get us something warm to drink. I’ll be back in a minute!” he announces before you can even protest, and practically runs to the nearest café. 

He only leaves you and the slightly pathetic-looking sandcastle alone for a minute, quickly coming back with two take-away cups of milky Earl Grey tea and a brownie that he couldn’t help himself from buying. The moan you let out when you bite into it, gooey, sweet chocolate sticking to your teeth, goes straight down Sunghoon’s spine, but he tries not to let his thoughts get too carried away.

“Good, right?” he asks, laughing when you nod fervently. When you laugh too, it’s a sound so sweet, it rivals the decadence of the brownie. “I sometimes make the trip all the way here just for this.”

“I thought I’d be done with sweets after this morning, but this is so good.”

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak. “Sorry, Berta. I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of my life.”

Sunghoon hopes you’ll remember him as the boy who’d introduced you to those brownies, if nothing else.

The two of you are silent for a little bit, but it’s a comfortable silence—something Sunghoon didn’t know was possible with someone he’d just met. This was something he loved about the sea: it allowed for some quiet. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the calls of the seagulls, the dogs barking after them—it all meant he didn’t need to fill the space with needless chatter. He could look out at the peaceful water, you by his side, and just enjoy the moment.

“I’m still so amazed whenever I come to the beach, no matter how many times it’s been.” Sunghoon’s voice is quiet when he speaks, lower than usual. It sounds a lot more intimate than he means it to be. You turn your head to look at him, silently asking him to go on. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes as he watches the water. “The town I grew up in is right in the middle of the country, so the sea is like, a five-hour drive. There was a lake nearby, but it was nothing compared to this. It might sound silly, but being from somewhere where everyone knows each other, I never realized just how big the world was until I came here and saw the sea for the first time.”

“You’d never been to the sea before coming here?” you ask, surprise clear in your voice. 

He shakes his head. “My hometown isn’t far from the mountains, so it’s a huge tourist spot both in the winter and in the summer, which meant my mom had to work even when my sister and I were out of school and could actually go on holiday. We’d go visit my grandparents and aunts when we found the time, but that was it.” He meets your gaze, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of his hometown and his family. “This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home.” 

The corners of your lips raise into a smile too, matching Sunghoon’s. “And how has that been going?”

He sighs. “It’s okay. I miss my mom and sister like crazy, of course, but they FaceTime me so much that I barely notice it. And anyways, it’s also nice to be on my own. Discover another part of myself, and all that.”

“For sure.” 

There’s a slight shift in your expression that Sunghoon catches onto, a falter in your smile and a hint of sadness in your eyes. He doesn’t want to force a topic that you don’t want to talk about, so he just gently eggs you on, in case all you need is a small push.

“What about you? I think Jake mentioned you guys growing up around here, only an hour or so away.”

At the mention of your brother, the smile returns to your eyes. You take a deep breath and think for a bit, but eventually, you start talking. Although Sunghoon’s eyes are on you, you keep yours trained on the sea. “Yeah, we did. We live just up the coast, so we were always hanging out at the beach. In a way, it’s nice having the sea here as well. It’s like-I don’t know.”

“Like having a piece of home even when you’re away?”

Your gazes meet for just a second, the surprise clear in your eyes, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and you turn away from Sunghoon once more. “Basically, yeah.” A sardonic smile appears on your lips. “Although the constant reminder isn’t always appreciated.” 

He tilts his head. When you don’t say anything further, he flicks some sand onto your hand and asks you what you mean by that. He looks at you with curiosity and kindness only, eager to know more about you, to let you know that you can open up to him, that he won’t judge you, but careful not to overstep any boundaries either. It seems to work.

“It might sound stupid, but back home, the beach was a place I could go to when it all was a bit too much, you know? Like an escape from everyday life. Where I could forget about all of the pressure on my shoulders.” Sunghoon hums, and you take another deep breath. “I don’t know if you and Jake talk about this sort of thing, but… our parents are barely nice when we do well, and pretty awful when we don’t reach their expectations. So we were like, constantly having to outdo ourselves just for them to say, ‘Keep it up’, or something like that. And if we did something wrong, well…”

You trail off, but Sunghoon knows what you mean. “Yeah, Jake said they barely spoke to him anymore because he decided to play hockey instead of becoming, like, a doctor or something.”

You smile, but it’s humorless. “Yep. They send him money, and he comes home for a bit over Christmas and summer break, but that’s it. I’ve gone home by myself sometimes and they won’t even mention him, it’s insane.”

“He also doesn’t talk about it a lot.”

“I know. I’m always the one to bring it up. I know it’s a sensitive topic for him, obviously, but I still find it amazing how well he deals with it. But me… despite everything, I still need their approval, you know?” you ask, and Sunghoon nods.

“That makes sense.”

You sigh. “I guess. And I’m obviously not becoming a doctor like them. Not a medical one, at least. It took a year of convincing them that doing the degree I’m doing was okay. ‘Cause at the end of the day, it’s still me filling in my university applications, and they can’t actually force me to go to medical school, but I still wanted them to be proud of me. Even if I study languages.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as you both look out at the waves crashing against the shore. When you start talking again, you look down at the sand, picking it up and letting it filter through your fingers. “So, yeah. Jake got a scholarship here, and I didn’t wanna be too far from home, so here we are. We’re so close to home, the sea I went to when I needed a break in high school and the sea I go to now are one and the same. And now it reminds me of my parents rather than making me forget about them.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” Sunghoon says. “I didn’t think…”

You cut him off with a smile. “It’s okay. Now I’ve created new memories. Nice ones. And you know… wherever I am, it’ll be at the back of my mind. It’s up to me whether I let it affect my life or not.”

“Letting go of these things is never easy,” Sunghoon offers. “You also can’t blame yourself if it does affect you sometimes.”

When you look at Sunghoon, your eyes darting back-and-forth between his like they’re searching for something there, he feels himself tense up slightly. He can’t read you at all, has no idea what you’re thinking even as you smile and say, “You’re right.” Even as you silently link your pinky with his, gazing down at your hands with a small smile. He hadn’t realized how cold his hands were until this small touch, so small yet able to spread warmth throughout his entire body. When he speaks, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes—he’s still so focused on where your hands touch, too aware of the skin of your finger right against his. Such a small, innocent touch. He can’t even begin to understand why it means so much to him.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is super cool,” he says. “I’ve always been so shit at foreign languages, let alone dead languages. And packing your bags and going abroad for a year, not everybody can do that. Becoming a doctor might be hard, but it also takes a specific kind of person to do what you do. And what Jake does. It’s all valuable.”

“Now, if you could say that again while I record you to show my parents, please,” you say, making him laugh.

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“What about you?” you ask him after a small pause. “I can’t be the only one who trauma-dumps on the first date.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t even dared entertain the thought that this might be more than a platonic hang-out in case he was crossing a line—but you’ve just called it a date. With just a few casual words, you’ve changed the entire meaning of the hours you’ve spent together. He hopes you can’t tell how flustered it’s made him.

“Well, there’s not much trauma to dump, really. Sorry.” 

You giggle. “Don’t apologize. That’s a good thing.”

Now that you’ve just opened up about your parents, Sunghoon is scared that telling you about how good of a childhood he had might come off as insensitive—but you smile softly at him, holding his hand face-up in yours, tracing the lines of his palm with the tip of a finger, and he starts talking. “So, it was just me, my older sister and my mom growing up. My dad died when I was 2.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It is a bit sad that I don’t have any memories of him, but everyone who knew him said he was a great guy. And my mom’s had this boyfriend since I was like, 10? He’s the one who got me to start hockey. So it hasn’t been that bad.”

“Your mom must be really strong.”

Sunghoon smiles. “She is. She’s amazing. To raise two kids on your own while grieving and not royally fuck up is… well, amazing. She’s always been so supportive of us, no matter what we wanted to do. My sister did well at school, but I wasn’t so good. I never really enjoyed it, but she’s never made me feel bad about it. She didn’t mind that all I wanted to do was hit a puck around.” 

“And you’re pretty good at hitting that puck around, aren’t you?”

“I’m not so bad,” Sunghoon says, chuckling along with you. He’s about to go on, but he is cut off by a raindrop hitting his hand, then another one; before either of you know it, your clothes are soaked through. Sunghoon takes his denim jacket off, using it as a makeshift umbrella for the both of you as you run towards the nearest awning, shaking with giddy laughter until you forget about the chilly rain and the clothes sticking to your skin. When it doesn’t let up for another few minutes, Sunghoon suggests catching the bus back, and you agree. 

The heating on the bus is set on low, but it’s enough to warm Sunghoon up as soon as he steps onto it. You sit at the back in a corner of your own, multiple rows away from the other people onboard. The two of you are relatively quiet, lost in your own thoughts until Sunghoon, after much internal deliberating, takes one of your hands in his and interlaces your fingers together. You look up at him, but he doesn’t return your gaze, eyes fixed on the window to hide his shy smile and the blush slowly staining his cheeks. To his surprise, you squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a second, unsure how to react to your reciprocated affection, but he makes himself relax into your touch, and starts brushing his thumb back-and-forth on the back of your hand. The sudden storm has made day turn to night a little earlier today, and with the quiet hum of the bus, he finds himself on the edge of sleep for the whole ride—the only thing keeping him awake is his booming heart.

The bus is nearing his stop when the buzz of his phone in his back pocket jolts him awake. You lift your head from his shoulder, massaging your neck as you fish your phone out of your own pocket. Sunghoon, more intrigued by you than by whoever has texted him, watches as the brightness of your screen makes you wince. Once you’ve read the text, you turn towards him, sleepy eyes and sleepy voice as you ask him whether he’s seen “this,” referring to a text from Chaewon. dinner at our flat tonight!!! come whenever. bring drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot she was doing that tonight,” you say through a yawn.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Do you have enough energy for it?”

“I always have enough energy for Chaewon’s cooking.”

You and Sunghoon make a pit-stop at a grocery store to buy two bottles of white wine and the hummus Chaewon likes, then head to your flat. Naturally, questions are asked when you and Sunghoon arrive at the exact same time, but before Sunghoon can explain that you spent the day together, Minjeong’s head pops out of the kitchen door, and she asks whether you ran into each other downstairs. Chaewon is only looking at the both of you, waiting for an answer, so she doesn’t see the very pointed look Minjeong gives you, as if to say Agree with me or else. You quickly glance at Sunghoon then say, “Yeah, we just arrived at the same time.” When they’ve both turned away, you tell him in a hushed tone that you’ll ask her about it later. 

The girls are busy in the small kitchen and Chaewon insists that they don’t need any more help, so you and Sunghoon bring two chairs by the kitchen door and sit as Yunjin catches the four of you up on the most recent drama in her Law cohort. Jay arrives twenty minutes later, but it isn’t another hour before Jake shows up with the excuse that he was taking a nap.

“Someone would think you don’t sleep at night, with the amount of naps you take,” you say.

“Oh my God, I miss when you weren’t here,” Jake replies, flicking your forehead before promptly plopping himself down on the couch. “I was so hungover when I woke up. I had to sleep it off,” he explains as he grabs four cans of beer from his backpack. 

Chaewon always makes a point to ask how everyone’s spent their day, but today, she unfortunately starts with Sunghoon, so he doesn’t have any time to come up with anything believable other than the truth, which is exactly what he does—and when Jay asks, What, to the beach by yourself? under Minjeong’s heavy gaze, he has no choice but to say yes. He isn’t sure why it’s such a big deal that you spent the day with him, or why it needs to be kept a secret, but there must be a reason. He’ll find out later. When it’s your turn, you look straight into Sunghoon’s eyes as you say you spent the day at the library but didn’t get much work done. Everyone ignores Jake when he exclaims Boring! and Chaewon swiftly moves onto Jay.

But you don’t. 

Your eyes stay on Sunghoon, unflinchingly watching him, expression unreadable, and he finds himself unable to look away, even as he feels his face heat up and his stomach flip. Then you smile, a satisfied smirk like you got what you wanted, and shift your gaze to Jay, who’s going on and on about the first six episodes of Lost he binge-watched earlier and wondering why nobody had told him about this “masterpiece of a show” before. Sunghoon is too busy thinking about the way you’d looked at him and pondering all the reasons for it to listen carefully. He watched Lost when he was fourteen anyway.

All throughout the evening, as the seven of you eat Chaewon’s pasta dish (which she made entirely from scratch, and is probably one of the best things to have ever graced Sunghoon’s taste buds), drink, talk, and afterwards, play card games, every glance between you and Sunghoon feels like a secret conversation that only the two of you are privy to. No one except for Minjeong is aware that you spent the day just the two of you until now—and even she doesn’t know what it is you did. Within a day of knowing each other, you already share memories that are yours and no one else’s. Sunghoon is giddy with the knowledge, heart skipping every time your eyes meet, no matter how fleetingly. When you’re all saying goodbye, it takes everything in him not to hug you for an awkwardly long time and to tear himself away from you. 

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

For the entirety of the year you were gone, Sunghoon could only nod and smile while the others bemoaned your absence or commented on how much more fun it’d be if you were here (even Jake, after enough wine spritzers, would admit to missing you). He understood that the group dynamics might feel different to them without you around, but this particular set of people was all he knew, so he never minded it. It reminded him of people telling him how sad it must’ve been growing up without a father, trying to be empathetic, when he didn’t know how he could miss something he never had. 

But now that you’re here, he gets it. You add something to the group that he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in your affectionate gestures towards Chaewon and Yunjin, in your shared sense of humor with Jay (which no one else seems to find funny, save for Sunghoon, sometimes), in your bickering with Minjeong and downright arguing with Jake. It’s a hackneyed expression, but you do light up a room—at least in Sunghoon’s opinion, you do. In your presence, everything feels not only more lively, but also more cohesive, like you were the missing piece of a puzzle. Like a historic work of art that has been returned to its rightful owner. 

Sunghoon just finds himself drawn to you, at times unable to keep his eyes off of you, and the only things keeping him from making a move are his inherent shyness and the eyes of your friends. He doesn’t want to mess up the friendship he has with anyone from the group, least of all Jake, just because he can’t keep it in his pants. He thought of Yunjin and Chaewon, how their relationship had gone smoothly from the beginning and posed no problem to the dynamic of the group, but he had no idea if this was replicable between you and him at all.

If he had to be honest, a big part of him was also just afraid you’d reject him.

Getting a read on you is hard, which doesn’t help. It’s been three weeks since the gang reunited, since that party where you met. The first semester of his second and your fourth year started a little bit over a week ago; Sunghoon sometimes worries that you think there is some big age gap between you and that you see him as a kid, even though, admittedly, two years is not such a huge difference. In those three weeks, there have been many encounters which could be seen as cases of flirting between the two of you—Sunghoon has noticed every single one of them and replayed each an embarrassing amount of times in his head. A hand carefully posited on his shoulder; prolonged eye contact; jokes whispered in his ear at a crowded house party; knees lightly touching at first, then pressed together during movie night. None of it ever fails to make Sunghoon’s heart flutter. You could breathe in his general direction and it’d make his heart beat fast enough to worry a cardiologist, so when you smile at him, it’s a small death every time.

And so he dares hope that his interest isn’t one-sided—although most of the time, he is so stuck between thinking none of it means anything and thinking every single thing you do is a sign that you like him, that he rarely knows what to think. And whenever you’ve paid him enough attention to make him believe it’s not all in his head, you do something that proves him wrong. Watching you interact with other people, he realizes that you keep good eye contact with everyone and that you’re just as touchy and playful with all of your friends. At parties, you hit it off with new people and catch up with old friends without so much as a hint of awkwardness. He watches as you talk to other guys, the same smile that has been making him weak for the past three weeks, directed towards them and not him. Sunghoon assumes you’re either really nice to everyone and oblivious to the fact that it could be seen as flirting, or you just flirt with everyone. 

In that sense, the two of you are complete opposites. Sunghoon, whose entire friend group hangs on the fact that he befriended Jay, who knew Jake, who knew you, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon. Sunghoon who has spoken to maybe half of his hockey team outside of the locker rooms and the occasional party. Sunghoon who, outside of his usual friend group, has managed to make three other friends on his own in the year he’s been at university, because they had been put in a group project and magically hit it off enough to upgrade from classmates to friends. 

Then there’s you, who has to stop every thirty seconds at a party to say hi to someone you know. You, who still keeps in touch with the friends you made in a foreign country, even those who spoke broken English. You, who didn’t make Sunghoon feel like his crippling shyness was a problem when you first met. 

He doesn’t understand how everyone who meets you doesn’t instantly fall in love. 

Or maybe they do, and he’s just one of many vying for your heart. 

Tonight is one of the nights where all he can do is watch from afar as you interact with another man that he desperately wishes was him. With your lower back against the kitchen counter, drink in hand as you laugh with that other guy, eyes never leaving his face, it almost looks like someone has copied your time with Sunghoon at the costume party and pasted it onto this post-hockey game party. All you’re missing is a bright pink cowgirl hat and boots to match.

And yet, it’s his team jacket over your shoulders, his name and number on your back. Sunghoon shouldn’t feel nearly as jealous as he does.

So he does what any good friend would do, and blames Jay for reasons completely unwarranted—even now, days after receiving his advice, and hours after taking it, Sunghoon still can’t help but regret involving him at all. 

Initially, Sunghoon hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about his growing feelings for you—he’d thought that if he pushed them away and kept them to himself, they’d go away on their own. But clearly, they didn’t, seeing as how his stomach always twisted in nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing you and how he could never get through a conversation with you without blushing. So, quicker than he’d like to admit, he’d given in and told Jay about the day you’d spent at the beach and how felt about you now, thinking it was some big shameful secret that would render his friend flabbergasted. 

That was his first mistake. 

Jay wasn’t impressed. “Yeah, it’s been pretty obvious, dude,” he’d said through a mouthful of cheeseburger. It was after hockey practice, and they were sitting in the burger joint near the ice rink that had some of the best student deals in town. Jake was going on a Hinge date, and Sunghoon had lured Jay in with the promise of free food (Jay wanted to go home and game, but all Sunghoon needed to do to convince him was to say “I’ll pay for it”). 

“Obvious? How obvious? Does everyone know? Does Jake know?” Sunghoon asked, growing more agitated by the second.

“Jake is possibly the worst room-reader that has ever lived, so no, I don’t think he’s caught on. But the rest of us know. I mean, you look at her like a twelve-year-old with a crush on his English teacher,” Jay said, unceremoniously cramming fries into his mouth.

Sunghoon ignored the slightly humiliating remark, still preoccupied by the fact that he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought he had. He leant in towards Jay and dropped his voice to a whisper, even though the restaurant was practically empty, save for them and a group of rowdy middle school boys who were definitely not paying attention to them. “Do you think… does she know?”

Jay dropped his fist on the table in sudden annoyance, causing Sunghoon to jump back in his seat. “Now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.” Before Sunghoon could defend himself and argue that he’s being completely rational, Jay launches into a surprisingly moving monologue. “It’s fine if you like her, there’s nothing to be embarrassed of. Everybody feels attraction towards other people, everybody gets crushes, it’s no big deal. Just talk to her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same way, and you both move on, because you’re adults.”

There’s nothing worse than a friend being right about something you absolutely don’t want to hear. Sunghoon did feel like he had been carrying a horrible secret around, but Jay was spot-on: crushes are a very common, very human experience. And yet Sunghoon managed to feel like he was the only one who had ever had to go through this torture. “You say that like it’s easy,” he said, sulking.

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

“So what, your advice is just to confess to her?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “See? You’re saying confess like it’s some sin you have to repent for. Yeah, just tell her.”

“Just tell her,” Sunghoon repeated, looking at his friend like he was crazy. Jay just took another bite of his burger.

“Yeah, dude. It’s not even like you’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s no risk of ruining a friendship, or anything.”

“But do you even know if she feels the same way at all?”

Jay shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned anything,” he said, and Sunghoon’s heart dropped in disappointment. “But it’s Y/N, she’ll be cool about it. And who knows, she might actually see something in you, for some godforsaken reason.”

Jay laughed at his own joke, and Sunghoon afforded him a chuckle. They moved on to other topics, but later, as they waited for Jay’s bus to come, he couldn’t help himself. “Do you think Jake will mind? If something happens with Y/N and me?”

Jay thought for a second. “I think he’d be more upset with her than with you, what with everything that happened with Heeseung... But knowing him, he probably won’t care as long as you aren’t weird in front of him.” He puts a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder and shakes it gently. “Don’t let that stop you from making a move, okay? You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.” His bus came then, so Sunghoon couldn't ask for more details about this Heeseung situation—he knew that there had been something between you and him which hadn’t ended particularly well, but no one ever really talked about it so he didn’t dare bring it up. All he knew was that it had been significant enough for Jay to mention it now, and for Jake to seem bothered every time it was mentioned.

He put all of that out of his head for the time being. In a way, he had just received Jay’s blessing; even if it scared him shitless, he could make a move. Perhaps not something as straightforward as Jay was suggesting, but something, at the very least. 

The first major hockey game of the season was that coming Friday. Sunghoon had an idea.

The morning of, he shot you a text. He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as he can, so that you wouldn’t know he spent close to an hour deleting, writing and pouring over a singular sentence. Can you meet me in front of the locker rooms 30 mins before the game? 

That was his second mistake.

You replied twenty minutes later, twenty minutes that Sunghoon spent questioning everything that had led up to this moment.

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

You even got there five minutes early. He was waiting for you, all decked out in his hockey uniform, save for the gloves and protective headgear. He was anxiously chewing on gum, heart doing somersaults inside his ribcage—a grin found his lips as soon as you appeared around the corner, the sight of you alleviating his nerves for a second, then doubling them when you came close. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and slightly trembling.

“Hey,” you simply replied, a smile on your face to match his as he took you in his arms. It was a hug that lasted a second longer than it should, but that also ended too early for his liking.

“Um, I only have a second, Coach will be wanting to give one of his pep talks,” he said when you separated. One quick glance back at the locker room doors behind him, then back at you. The tips of his ears burnt, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from furtively darting between your face and the floor. But he’d come this far, so he couldn’t back out now. He just had to get it over with. “Here,” he blurted out, holding out the letterman jacket he had been hiding behind his back. You grabbed it, eyeing him with amused suspicion at first, but surprise spreaded over your features as you unfurled the jacket.

“Your team jacket?” 

He couldn’t tell whether you were amazed or horrified. You stared wide-eyed at the jacket, at its dark green sleeves, at the four letters of his last name and the huge number 8 embroidered onto the back. Your surprise faded back into what he thought — what he hoped — was excitement as you looked at him. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face flush red. “Yeah, I just, you know… It’s the first big game of the year, and I thought it’d bring me good luck if a pretty girl was wearing my name…” he explained, repeating the words he’d practiced over and over, voice turning into more and more of a mumble as he spoke. He had planned on speaking with more confidence, but now, the fact that he could speak at all felt like a miracle.

A light giggle spilled out of your mouth. Sunghoon immediately took it for mockery and regretted every decision that had led him here. “Sorry, it was a silly idea, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he said, reaching for the jacket. But you were quicker than him, hugging the thick bundle of fabric to your chest as you now beamed at him.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, shrugging off your jacket and replacing it with his.

First, relief flooded his body, then pride and excitement — as you spun around and showed the jacket off — at seeing his name on your back, and his attempt at making a move being successful. At least, he thought it was clear what he meant by giving you his jacket to wear at his game—he could only hope you understood. “Well… I’m glad.” Your eyes met, and you both chuckled softly, gazes holding each other’s for a second too long. 

Two weeks ago, Sunghoon still would’ve been able to convince himself this was a fluke; that this was just another one of his crushes that a gentle breeze could blow away. Because after all, when Sunghoon fell in love, it usually went as quickly as it came. But at that moment, in front of the locker rooms, his mind solely on you and not the opening game of the season, he realized this was something else entirely. And whatever it was, he hadn’t felt it in a good long while.

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

“Okay, I should probably head back in now,” he forced himself to say, but made no move to go.

“Okay.”

He paused. “Will you be cheering me on?”

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

He nodded slowly, upper body starting to turn away but feet still firmly planted on the ground. “Okay.” 

Another second passed, and just as he was about to actually walk away, you grabbed his hand. Before he could compute what was happening, you lifted your head and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. His hand was still in yours when you took a step back, and for once, it was you who looked sheepishly at the floor. “For good luck,” you explained. He had no time to reply—you were already walking away, only looking back once to wave and shoo him in the direction of the locker room. He chuckled and nodded, but waited until you were out of sight to head back into the locker room.

Inside the locker room, everyone was too focused on getting their head in the game to notice his giddy smile. Your lips had been warm and soft against his cheeks, a welcome repeat of that time at the costume party, but the quickness of it all had only made him want more. From that very first night he’d met you, the question of how your lips would feel on his had scarcely left his mind. This brought him a step closer to getting an answer, but also made his curiosity grow tenfold.

Thankfully, by the time his coach gathered them around for a last minute pep talk, he’d managed to put the distracting thoughts of you out of his head, at least temporarily—he’d need to play well, for himself and his team mostly, but impressing you was also a priority. 

As the captain, Heeseung said a few words. He reminded the team of how important this match was and went over the main strategy points. For the time being, Sunghoon was able to forget about his arguably unfounded resentment against the older boy and whatever it was he had to do with you. This was not the time for jealousy over someone he had no right to feel jealous over. 

A few minutes later, his members and those of the opposing team poured out onto the rink for warm-up. Sunghoon searched the crowd for your face—when he found it, you were already smiling wide and waving at him. His heart did something funny, but Jay punched his shoulder pad and he remembered what he was there for. He could get lost in the eyes of a pretty girl later, specifically when he’d destroyed the other team and shown her how good of a hockey player he was.

Every now and then as he skirted around the rink and did his stretches, he stole glances at you. They didn't last long, because every single time, you’d already be looking, as if your eyes never strayed from him. Knowing you were watching made him nervous at first, but by the end of warm-up, mainly because he didn’t have much of a choice, he’d turned those nerves into an ever stronger will to do well.

The moment the referee blew the whistle, and for the hour that followed, Sunghoon was locked in on one thing and one thing only: winning. He was only competitive when it came to hockey—he didn’t care about dying in an online battle game or losing to Jake at beer pong, but once he was on the rink, he had to win. Pride surged through him and filled every crevice of his aching limbs whenever he or one of his team members scored, and the feeling that came with a victory, with hugging his teammates in celebration or hearing the crowd cheer for them, was like nothing else he’d ever known. The other side of that coin meant that any loss was a tremendous disappointment. Getting beat at an important game could put him in a week-long funk. His sister had once carefully hinted at his self-esteem relying too much on his hockey performance, and although his first reaction had been to dismiss her, he knew she had poked at some truth there. But what could he do—on particularly lonely nights, he truly thought hockey was all he had going for him. 

To his overthinking nature, becoming so single-minded the second the whistle blows was a relief, a break from the stress of daily life. He didn’t have to worry about his next deadline or about what the guys on the team thought of him or about the inevitable phone call to his mom asking for more money for groceries. It was respite from the thoughts surrounding you that plagued him: how you felt about him, how you might react knowing what he felt for you, how Jake might react. Why Minjeong hadn’t wanted you to say anything that evening, but why Jay had told him to just go for it. Heeseung, whom he had to respect as the captain and an undeniably talented player, but also as someone who had had something to do with you, whether good or bad. All of it had been wildly bustling around Sunghoon’s mind, but once on the rink, all he had to concern himself with was the puck and getting it in the opposing team’s goal. 

And Sunghoon did just that—he scored the first goal of the game, another one in the second period, then a third during the eleventh hour, breaking the tie between the two teams. He smiled right at you after each one, just to make sure you had seen everything. He couldn’t quite describe how it felt to see you clap and cheer for him, jumping up-and-down, forming a megaphone with your hands around your mouth and yelling, “Go Sunghoon!” all while you wore his jacket. It was a separate kind of pride and satisfaction from the sort he’d get seeing anyone else cheer him on, for sure. 

The other team put up a good fight, getting in a few goals of their own and protecting their side well, but in the end, thanks to Sunghoon’s goal, it was his team that won. He took his helmet off and got his hair ruffled by half of his team, then shook hands with the other team, trying to contain his boastful smile—some ice hockey players flew off the handle very quickly, and starting a fight was the last thing he wanted.

Kids and local fans huddled by the barriers on each side of the player’s tunnel to get an autograph or a picture. People around here were weirdly attached to their university sport teams, and the athletes on teams that did particularly well — namely football and rugby — were sort of local celebrities. Their ice hockey team wasn’t quite at that stage yet, but they were placing better nationally with every year, and so the local interest had grown. More kids had started signing up for lessons, and their parents often brought them to home games. As Sunghoon chatted with men twice his age and took selfies with ten-year-olds, he tried to find you in the crowd, to no avail. He’d been hoping for a thumbs-up from you for a game well played, or even a hug, but you were nowhere in sight.

It wasn’t until half-an-hour later, after saying bye to all the fans that had waited after the game for them, listening to Heeseung and their coach congratulate them (but also remind them to not take anything for granted), showering and changing, that he got to check his phone.

chaewon we going k-bbq! u guys played well see u later at da party!!!!

Disappointment only had a second to sink to the bottom of his stomach. He’d barely finished reading the text when he was hoisted up by the shoulders. Two of his senior teammates, Soobin and Beomgyu, marched him towards the exit. “We are getting you wasted tonight, Park,” Beomgyu announced, a wide grin on his lips.

“I have a good feeling about this season,” Soobin added. Sunghoon looked back to find Jay and Jake simply shrugging and laughing at him.

Indeed, the second they got to the dorm where tonight’s party would be taking place, a beer was thrusted in his hand. It was only 7 p.m., still light outside, but that didn’t stop the team nor their friends that had come to the game. They sipped beer like it was water, so much so that two hours later, when the party started to grow, Sunghoon was already quite inebriated. It didn’t help that his cup was never empty for too long, and that he had the reassurance of being in his own dorm—it was the closest student building to the ice rink, and so was one of the prime spots for hockey parties. He could get as drunk as he wanted — or as Beomgyu wanted — and still get home in less than a minute. 

He somehow ended up in the corridor, part of a nonsensical conversation about candle-making with two guys he had recognized from one of his Phys Ed classes but could not for the life of him remember the names of. One had shared that candle-making was a big hobby of his, and it had made Sunghoon and the other unknown man lose their minds—Sunghoon had never realized how curious about candle-making he was, but he couldn’t stop asking questions. It sounded great. Maybe he’d have to pick up candle-making, too. 

Eventually, he headed back to the kitchen for a new drink. For the nth time this evening, he thought of texting you, then immediately thought against it. He wanted to know when you’d get here, but he didn’t want you to know that he wanted to know—although as the night deepened and his intoxication rose, he could remember less and less why that would be such a bad thing. He stepped into the kitchen, and going from the brightly-lit corridor to the dark kitchen with flashing neon lights made him so dizzy that he made a beeline for the couch, needing to sit down for a second.

And that was when he saw you.

Lower back against the counter, talking with a guy he’s never seen in his life. You look like you’re having fun—smiling, laughing, keeping eye contact with that guy. You’re still wearing his jacket. It should probably reassure him—his name is literally on you, what does it matter that you’re speaking to someone else? But instead, all he can think is that wearing his jacket must mean nothing to you. What was basically a confession from him seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

His friends’ words over the past year come back to him—how much you flirt with people, how it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to go home with a guy after a party and never speak of him ever again. Was this what was happening here?

He knows it’s unreasonable, but in his drunken state, he takes it as a betrayal. Like he can’t believe you haven’t read his mind, figured out how he felt about you, and decided to give special attention to him and him only. He’s only able to take it for so long—two minutes later, he trudges out of the room, walking right past you but not looking your way.

His new mission is to find his friends, but before he’s done much searching, he hears his name being called out. Of course, he recognizes your voice immediately, but he doesn’t quite believe it until he looks over his shoulder, and there you are, face glowing and smiling wide. You’ve clearly had a few drinks, but he likes to think you’d be just as happy to see him if you were sober. He turns around to face you, watching as you narrow the distance between the two of you. He’s not in a much better state—the simple thought that you had come after him makes him forget any sort of resentment he held against you a second ago. When you reach him, he holds on to one of your arms, as much an effort to stabilize his swaying body as an excuse to touch you.

“Hey,” he simply says. He’s always at a loss for words around you, so scared he’ll say the wrong thing that he ends up barely speaking at all. He’s only sober enough to know that with all the cheap beer and vodka running through his blood, his odds of making a fool of himself are even bigger. 

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

“I know!” you exclaim. “I wanted to come right away, but Chaewon was hell-bent on getting her Korean barbecue.”

“She does get cranky when she hasn’t had pork belly in a while.” Sunghoon feels like he’s just won the Nobel Prize when you let out a laugh. “Was the food good at least?”

“It was amazing. So worth getting here late,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I see how it is.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “Then we should go there together next time.” 

Your smile changes, turning from cheerful to surprised, but amused—almost mischievous. You take a step forward. Sunghoon gulps; the gap between the two of you was narrow to begin with. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Usually, this type of straight-forwardness would have him stuttering, but drunk Sunghoon is a man sober Sunghoon barely recognizes in the morning. “Yeah. I am. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

“Nice. Okay.” For a second, you just look at each other. Another thing about drunk Sunghoon: he doesn’t feel like prolonged eye contact will make him spontaneously combust. He actually quite enjoys it. He also stumbles, even when all he’s doing is trying to stand straight. “You’re still wearing my jacket,” he eventually says, reaching out to take the end of your sleeve between his fingers.

You stretch out your arms and appraise the team jacket as if you only remembered you had it on. “Yeah. It’s comfy.”

“It looks good. You look good.”

“You’re not quite sober, are you?” you ask suddenly. 

“Is it that obvious?” When you nod, he giggles, lowering his head in defeat. “The guys made me drink so much.”

“You did score three goals after all. And you looked good doing it.”

At the praise, he stands up to his full height and places his palms behind his head in a victorious pose. “I did, didn’t I?” he says, looking off in the distance with a self-assured look that makes you burst into laughter. He drops the confident facade and laughs along with you, until somebody bumps into him and sends him stumbling forwards. If you weren’t standing there to catch him, he’d probably have fallen flat on his face. But even though he doesn’t fall, he feels all the alcohol catching up to him and threatening to come right back out where it came from. You hold him for a second, and just as you ask him if he’s okay, he says, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

Arm under his shoulders, you let Sunghoon lean most of his weight on you as you guide him towards the elevator. It’s just one floor, but you said you didn’t want to risk the stairs with him. “Hey, who was that guy with you in the kitchen? That guy in the striped shirt? You guys seemed real chummy back there…” he mumbles as you help him out of the elevator. Even on the verge of sickness, Sunghoon is preoccupied by more important things.

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” he echoes, more venom in his voice than needed.

You look at him, taking in his disgruntled expression, and chuckle. “Yeah, he’s having some problems with his boyfriend. He asked me for advice.”

Sunghoon almost freezes in his tracks, but you’re there to keep him walking towards his room. “Oh. He has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah…” He can tell you want to tease him about it, but thankfully, you say nothing. He’s made it clear he had gotten jealous of your gay friend—no need to spell it out in so many words. Once you reach his studio (which he’d stupidly left unlocked), he heads straight for the bathroom, locking himself in, half out of embarrassment, half because he really doesn’t want you to see him throw up. Talk about a turn-off. He leans over the toilet bowl, waiting for the vomit to rise, but nothing comes. He waits, and waits, mind completely empty, head spinning even though he’s sitting very still, when suddenly a knock on the door pulls him out of his stupor.

“Sunghoon? It’s been ten minutes. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door for you. Without realizing, he fell asleep like a bored teenager in math class. “All right,” he hears you say.

He’s surprised you’re able to carry him out of the bathroom—if he was a deadweight before, by now, rigor mortis has practically set in. Despite his small student room, crossing it takes you an entire minute, and when you reach his bed, you all but let him flop on the mattress. He doesn’t mind. As soon as his body hits the bed, he feels quite snug, curling against his blanket. You start to unbutton his shirt, probably just thinking he’s already fallen asleep and wanting to make him more comfortable, but your fingers freeze when he starts giggling. Shoulders shaking with unbridled laughter, he feels as delighted as a five-year-old who just said a naughty word and made all his drunk relatives laugh at the family dinner. 

“I know I looked really hot tonight, but can we wait until I’m sober?” he asks, slurring his words slightly and keeping his eyes shut, despite the shit-eating smirk on his lips. You hit him on the chest but it just makes him laugh more.

“Bold of you to assume I’d still hit when I’ve just had to peel you off your toilet seat.” He lets you finish helping him out of his button-down. 

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks. He tries to look at you, but his eyes don’t quite open all the way, and they don’t focus properly, due to a strong mix of alcohol and inappropriate thoughts. Of you, specifically. His body feels suddenly very heavy, his want for you weighing him down into the mattress. The room is dark, your face illuminated only by the light in the bathroom and the glow of the street lights outside. You always look pretty, but your beauty is especially breath-taking right now, Sunghoon thinks. He wants to reach out and touch your face, wants to trace your jawline and know what your skin would feel like against his fingers. He doesn’t realize he’s actually doing it until he hears you inhale shakily.

The expression in your eyes is unreadable, and quickly gone, replaced by an annoyed squint. You grab his wrist gently, setting it back down next to him. “I’m gonna make you some ramen. You need to sober up, and you haven’t had dinner, have you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. He feels rejected, and it makes him inordinately sad.

For five minutes, he watches as you rummage around his cupboards for a pack of ramen, fill a pot with water and bring it to a boil. His thoughts float back to your day at the beach, memories that he’s preciously held onto for the past few weeks. You running around on the sand, opening yourself up to him and letting him open himself up to you, holding his hand on the bus. That day, he’d really thought it would be the beginning of something new; but as time passed, he became less and less sure of himself. He’s scared it might’ve just been a fluke, and that he’d have to destroy the castle he’d built in his head. He’s seen you almost every day since, but it’s never been the same. And even if your eyes met unexpectedly sometimes, or if you went out of your way to sit next to him during movie nights, he can’t let himself go on with so few signs. Jay was right—he had to be clear about his feelings, otherwise this would go on forever. Even if it didn’t feel like it, the Earth would continue spinning on its axis if you didn’t reciprocate.

“I’ve missed you.”

You pause in your movements. “Missed me? But we’ve seen each other every day,” you say after a few seconds, still facing away from him. Your voice is softer than he’s heard it before, almost unsure of itself.

“No,” Sunghoon whines, frowning. He can barely keep his eyes open—he wishes you could read his mind so he wouldn’t have to explain, but alas. “I miss you—the you from the beach. When it was just me and you. It’s not the same with the others around.”

Silence falls over the room again. Sunghoon wonders if you’re just going to ignore what he said, until you take a deep breath, and walk back to his bed. You crouch in front of him and take both of his hands in yours. Electricity flows from where your hands touch to the rest of his body. He suddenly feels a lot more awake.

“It’s just the two of us now,” you whisper. 

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

You smile. It might be the alcohol playing tricks on him, but Sunghoon swears there’s a hint of sadness in your eyes. One of your hands comes up to his hair. You thread your fingers gently through it, pushing it away from his forehead, then bring your hand down to the side of his face, your palm cupping it tenderly. Sunghoon lets himself lean into your warm touch. With his eyes closed, the darkness surrounding him makes this feel like a dream—he basks in the moment so as not to let a second of it go to waste.

“Do you wanna do something just us two this week?” you ask softly. His eyes shoot open—he needs to be sure this is really happening. He nods again, fervently this time, and it makes you chuckle. “Okay.”

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

He relaxes once more. He guides your hand towards his mouth and presses his lips against your palm. Something shifts in your eyes—Sunghoon thinks the opportunity to finally kiss you has arisen, but as soon as his gaze drops to your lips, you’re back on your feet. “Let’s eat some ramen, shall we?” you ask as you head back towards the kitchen. Sunghoon tries his best (and probably fails) to not let his disappointment show.

There’s no dining table to speak of, only a low table near Sunghoon’s bed, on which you set down a wooden board and the steaming pot of spicy noodles. You hand him a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, and tell him to eat. Neither of you say much for a while, and Sunghoon grows redder and redder under your watchful gaze. He asks if you want any a few times, but you always turn him down. The silence quickly gets a little too unbearable for him, and he’s got a question burning the tip of his tongue anyway. Now’s as good a time as ever to ask it.

“Something’s been bugging me recently, actually…” You wait for him to go on. “So, at the costume party, right?” You nod. “You said there was only one person you wanted to kiss… Did you mean me?”

You tilt your head, looking at him like you’re trying to figure out whether he’s joking or not. “Yeah, Sunghoon… I meant you. Who else?”

He’s only half-relieved. “So why won’t you kiss me now?”

To his surprise, you smile. “Because you’re drunk.”

Confusion fogs Sunghoon’s brain. Is that all you’re worried about? Is his blood alcohol level the only thing stopping you from kissing him? “But I-I’m fine. I give you consent to kiss me, Y/N.” He’s dead serious, so when you laugh, it only frustrates him further.

“Finish your food, Sunghoon. We’ll see about kissing later.”

He sighs. Later he could deal with. “Fine. But I’ll hold you to it, okay?” he says, pointing a menacing chopstick at you.

“Okay.”

But Sunghoon can’t keep quiet for long—ten seconds later, he’s remembered another question he’s been dying to ask. He continues drinking his soup in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “So what happened between you and Heeseung?”

The question takes you so off-guard, you look like you would’ve done a spit-take had you been drinking water. “That’s-you know about that?”

“Well, not much, that’s why I’m asking.”

You scoff. “Why do you want to know? It’s boring.”

At those words, Sunghoon whips his head up to look at you. “It’s not boring!” he exclaims, perhaps a tad too vigorously. “Anything that has to do with you is interesting to me.”

Finally, the corners of your lips rise. Sunghoon hated the ten seconds in which you weren’t smiling. “Well, there isn’t much to say, anyway. We had a thing when we were in second year, I caught feelings and wanted more, and he didn’t. The end.”

Sunghoon freezes, staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth agape. He then sets his cutlery down neatly next to the pot of ramen and clasps his hands together like he’s in a business meeting. “So you’re telling me that he had the opportunity to make you his girlfriend and he just… didn’t?”

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

He hits the bedsheets next to him, huffing out in annoyance. “What an idiot.”

“He sure is,” you say. You smile to yourself as you grab Sunghoon’s spoon and try some of the broth. He wonders whether anything lies behind that smile. “But it happened a while ago. Don’t be weird with him on my account. He’s still your captain.”

Sunghoon thinks for a second. “Can I side-eye him once in a while? Or not pass him the puck during practice?”

“Sure,” you reply, laughing. You swiftly move on to other topics as Sunghoon slurps the last of his noodles, asking him about the beginning of the party and just how much his teammates made him drink. He’s recounting the shot contest they held, which Mark won with an impressive seven shots of tequila in a row — Sunghoon hopes the boy is okay now — when your phones buzz at the same time. Minjeong’s name appears on your screen, Jay’s on his, both asking where you are.

“Should we head back now?” you offer, although Sunghoon, wishfully perhaps, detects a trace of reluctance in your voice. “You look like you’ve sobered up a bit, seeing as you’re able to string more than two sentences together.”

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

It’s one a.m. when you head back down, and the party is in full swing. Pop music blasts through someone’s JBL speaker in the shared kitchen, the hallways are more crowded than the subway at rush hour, just as full of hockey fans celebrating their team’s win as students who just wanted an excuse to party, and every window is open to alleviate some of the stuffiness. They probably have another hour left before the dorm residents who decided not to join in the festivities call campus police on them.

Sunghoon is relieved to find that Jake is off with other team members, reaching levels of drunkenness that will most definitely be regretted in the morning. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong—he simply let you nurse him back to sobriety after he almost regurgitated his pre-game protein bar and three beers all over your nice shirt. Chaewon and Yunjin are busy making out in a corner, their lack of decorum only increasing when they’ve been drinking, but Jay and Minjeong eye you suspiciously upon seeing the two of you arrive together. You explain what happened so casually that they don’t question it any further.

Chaewon and Yunjin only tear themselves off of each other when a Beyoncé song starts playing, and they drag all four of you to the makeshift dancefloor, which is really just three meters away in the middle of the kitchen. Sunghoon is practically all sobered up by now, but he’s loosened up enough not to feel self-conscious with every step he takes; the fact that you look so happy, dancing with him and laughing at his silly moves, is a considerable bonus. He won’t drink any more, not wanting to risk embarrassing himself further in front of you, and Jay, as the group’s self-proclaimed health guru, probably had his last beer around nine p.m., but the girls, each of them with a cup of suspicious transparent liquid in hand, are getting drunker by the minute—and so is Jake, who has now joined you all on the dancefloor, if his inability to stand straight is anything to go by. Sunghoon assumes you’re also done with alcohol for the night, until you turn to him in the middle of a song no one has heard since 2015 and tell him you’re going to get a drink.

“Okay!” he simply answers, and for a good thirty seconds, basks in the blissful satisfaction of knowing he was the one you informed of your whereabouts. That is, until he realizes a minute later that it was probably a covert invitation for him to come along, which he totally missed. But when he looks over at the counter where all the drinks are, his heart drops—Heeseung is standing in front of you, pouring gin and lemonade into your cup. A flurry of emotions course through Sunghoon, emotions he has no idea what to do with, because he’s not sure they’re entirely warranted. He’s angry that Heeseung is talking to you, after what he did, confused that you’d let him; but mostly, he’s jealous. But he knows it’s only because he has no guarantee that you like him, and that you won’t go off with Heeseung, despite having just talked about how you were over him.

Wait—is that really what you said? You told Sunghoon that what happened with Heeseung didn’t bother you anymore, which doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t go back to him, given the chance. 

Before he can think it over a second time, Sunghoon heads over to where you and Heeseung stand. He places himself right behind you, reaching for a bottle of Coke on your side and pouring himself a drink.

“Oh, hey, Hoon,” his team captain says, clearly surprised to see him there and looking so discontented. Sunghoon can’t remember whether they’ve ever been close enough for Heeseung to call him by his nickname. “Having fun?”

“Yep,” he curtly replies, avoiding eye contact with either of you and looking out at the crowd of party-goers instead. He can feel your gaze, heavy on his face, can see the knowing smirk slowly rising on your lips. How was it that you could see right through him so easily?

“Too much dancing made you thirsty?” you ask, taking a drink from your cup and hiding your smile behind it.

He glares at you, more annoyed that his attempt at subtly sussing out what you and Heeseung were doing together was shut down so quickly than anything else. “Yep,” he repeats.

“You guys know each other?” the older boy asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Jake introduced us,” Sunghoon quickly answers. To his surprise, this makes Heeseung chuckle.

“Jay, Sunghoon, me… Wow, do you meet all your friends through your brother, Y/N?” he asks jokingly. Immediately, so many alarm bells ring in Sunghoon’s head—the implication that you and Heeseung are friends, the fact that he put himself and Sunghoon in the same bag, and above all, that teasing, almost flirtatious tone of his. 

He’s horrified to find you rolling your eyes playfully and saying, “I have other friends, thanks,” in a tone far too similar. At that moment, Minjeong starts yelling about how much she loves everyone in this room but particularly “you guys,” pointing to Jake, Jay, Minjeong and Chaewon, and “you guys, too!” screaming over the music as she points to you and Sunghoon.

“There’s one of them,” you say, half-amused, half-exasperated. “We should probably go check on her. See you around, Heeseung.”

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

Your group’s indicator of when it’s time to go home is when Minjeong starts one of her “I-love-my-friends-so-much” rants—if she’s that drunk, everyone else must be wasted. Indeed, Chaewon and Yunjin are holding onto each other to keep themselves from falling down, and Jake is unable to keep his head up. You, Sunghoon and Jay herd your friends outside and wait for Jake’s Uber, making sure to get him safely inside and to tip the driver generously for his pains. Jay lives nearby yours and the girls’ flat, and Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, walks you all home.

“Just ‘cause you and Jay might need a hand getting these three home,” he tells you. Yunjin, Chaewon and Minjeong are currently running around on the road, pointing and laughing at random shop names, and Jay is yelling at them to get back on the sidewalk.

“Mh-hm.”

“And it’ll be good to completely sober up before going to bed.”

“Right.”

There’s no use putting up a front with you—he’s an open book and you’re an avid reader. You don’t need to say anything to make it clear that you know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with you.

“You know, I told you not to be weird with Heeseung,” you say, gently punching him in the arm.

“Was I weird?” he asks, knowing fully well he hadn’t acted at all like he usually did around his captain. 

“You basically only spoke to let Heeseung know we’re friends. You were making yourself all tall and looking mysteriously out into the distance instead of at us.”

“But I am tall and mysterious,” he says, pride coursing through him as it always does when you laugh at one of his jokes.

“You’re probably the least mysterious person I know, Hoon.”

Hoon. How much sweeter that name sounds coming from you over anyone else.

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a grin on your face. A win is a win. “That’s just a fact.”

Sunghoon smiles victoriously. “I’ll take a fact. But I’m sorry if I was acting weird… I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”

“Heeseung is always bothering me,” you say with a sigh. “He comes up to me like this at every party. He’s just asking how I’ve been, but it’s like he’s sussing out whether or not he’s still got a chance.”

“Do you need me to beat him up? Threaten him? Dox him?”

Even though Sunghoon was only half-joking, you burst out laughing, hard enough for Minjeong to whip around and shout, “What are you laughing about?” as if you had offended her personally. At least Jay is there to make her turn around and focus on walking straight.

“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be needed. I just don’t like talking about it, ‘cause it’s really not that big a deal anymore. It feels like digging up old bones, you know?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’d commit grave robbery with you.”

“You-what?”

“Nevermind. We obviously don’t have to talk about it, but I’m curious.”

You sigh. “I guess it’d make sense for you to know about this.” Sunghoon thinks he sees something like panic flash across your features, but it’s so quick and such a rare expression on you that he’s not sure whether he just imagined it. “You know-just ‘cause everyone else is aware of it, and everything,” you quickly explain.

“Sure.”

“I just… I’m sure Heeseung is a nice guy when it comes to other things, but what the girls and I have concluded is that he’s a bit of an attention whore, you know. When it comes to girls. We fooled around for a while, and he never made it official, even when I made it pretty clear that that was what I wanted. But every time we saw each other after that, he’d flirt with me like nothing had happened. I fell for it at first and flirted back, thinking he had changed his mind… but he really just wanted to make sure I was still into him.”

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

“Exactly. And when I realized that, I stopped giving it to him. I was getting tired of him anyway, saying the same thing every time. But now, I entertain him for a couple of minutes before I walk away. I shut him down before he gets a chance to do it to me.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “I understand the need for validation, but he won’t be getting any from me.”

Jay bravely handles the three drunkards the whole way home, letting you and Sunghoon hang behind and carry on talking. You reach the boy’s apartment first, and yours five minutes later. But when you reach your front door, Minjeong announces she needs to talk to Sunghoon. “Privately,” she emphasizes.

You give Sunghoon an amused look and shrug as if to say “She’s your problem now.” He doesn’t have time to protest before you’ve bid him goodnight and disappeared behind the door, Yunjin and Chaewon in tow, yelling good night at Sunghoon like they’re not going to see him for months. 

Minjeong places her palms flat onto Sunghoon’s torso and looks right at him—to the best of her ability, at least, considering she’s having a hard time focusing her eyes. “Sunghoon,” she says gravely.

“Minjeong?”

“Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she says, slurring her words. “You know I love Y/N, she’s amazing…”

“Yeah, she is,” Sunghoon says firmly—already, he can tell where this is going, and he doesn’t like it.

“But she’s not the best with relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

Minjeong’s hands drop by her sides and she exhales deeply. “I’ve just never seen her in a committed relationship in the-in the almost four years I’ve known her. She never lets things get serious. She’s just so afraid of being hurt, Hoon, and I-” 

A hiccup escapes Minjeong’s lips as tears start pooling in her eyes. Sunghoon has only ever seen Minjeong cry when drunk—even movies that had him sobbing barely made her eyes water. Even if she isn’t in her right state of mind, he knows it means this must be important to her. He holds her arms and tries to put on the most reassuring tone he can. “But I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“No, I know that. I’m scared you’d get hurt. I don’t want things to become weird between all of us.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Minjeong, what-that wouldn’t happen.”

“But it will!” she exclaimed. “If something happens with you and her, and it doesn’t work out the way you want it to, it’ll make things awkward-”

“If that happens,” he interrupts, “I’ll deal with it. I won’t make it your guys’ problem. Y/N and I are adults, okay?”

“You’re like, nineteen…”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’ll be fine.” He takes a step back and opens the door for her to get in. 

She’s only on the first stair when she turns back around. “But, Hoon-” she tries, though he cuts her off.

“Minjeong, I promise-”

“Just don’t rush into anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

She complies, giving him one last look before climbing the stairs to her apartment. Sunghoon closes the door behind her, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

--

Sunghoon is on his way home from hockey practice when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

He almost throws his phone in the air in celebration, as if it was a graduation cap. His Sunday was spent going back-and-forth between lapidating himself for his drunken stupidity, memories, rough as stones, hitting him in the face every time he thought of what he said and how he acted, and congratulating himself for having finally made his feelings for you somewhat clearer. Hopefully, you now know he isn’t just awkward and silent around new people—well, he is, but it’s worse with you.

She never lets things get serious.

Minjeong’s warnings echo in his head as he types a positive — although not over-enthusiastic, ‘cause that’d be uncool — answer, but he dismisses them easily. Perhaps he shouldn’t; Sunghoon is, after all, incredibly serious about any and all romantic encounters. The girl at the grocery store who reached for the same red bell pepper as him was the most serious thing to him in the world for a good ten minutes; all of his school crushes were of utmost importance to him, however long they had lasted.

So this? This is capital-s Serious. But therein lies the problem; he’s so serious about you that he’d let you not make it serious. If Minjeong is right, and you’re not planning on taking this nearly as far as he wishes for it to go, he can already tell he’ll just let you. He’ll probably be happy you wanted anything to do with him at all. 

He has ways of reassuring himself, of convincing himself he isn’t a totally lost cause. Because when Sunghoon falls in love — and he had an inkling this was what this was — it usually goes as quickly as it came. Who’s to say this time next week he won’t have completely moved on? Maybe this date that he’s agreed to will go horribly wrong, you’ll be rude to the waiter, you’ll spill tomato sauce all over your shirt, and the flame in his heart will be put out. Easy as that.

You decide to meet on Wednesday evening, two days from now. Sunghoon suggests a Japanese restaurant he likes, a place he had gone to with his mom and sister when they had dropped him off at university before his first year, and that he knows is nice enough for a date but won’t burn a hole through his wallet.

Seeing you at the library the day before is a real thrill. Nobody but you knows of your plans—at least not until he caves in and tells Jay about it, who congratulates him with a roll of his eyes and a pat on the head. All of your eye contact feels loaded with the kind of complicity that comes with sharing a secret. As much as he would love boasting about it to every soul who’d listen, this secrecy electrifies him—it binds the two of you with something much more real than before. At least, more real than Sunghoon’s imagination and one-sided feelings. He knows that your text wasn’t in any way a confession of your own feelings for him, but it’s a step in the right direction.

In the few hours before your reservation at seven p.m., Sunghoon spends so much time thinking about the date that he’s almost late for it. He thinks about his expectations, then tries to get rid of them; he comes up with ideas of what your expectations might be, remembers Minjeong’s words, dismisses them, remembers them again; he goes through scenarios upon scenarios of everything that might go wrong and everything that might go spectacularly well. He ends up with less than twenty minutes to get ready, but manages to arrive at the restaurant a minute before you.

When he sees you approaching, Sunghoon feels like one of those boys in Disney movies as they watch their girlfriend coming down the stairs in her prom dress. You’re not wearing an over-the-top poofy purple dress, but the effect is the same—his eyes are glued on you with every step you take towards him.

You grab him by the arm and lead him into the restaurant as soon as you reach him. He’s too busy taking in your appearance to be bothered by it. “Don’t look at me like that,” you chide as you wait for waiting staff to seat you. He’d actually think you were mad at him if it wasn’t for the small smile playing on your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re doing right now! You’re staring.”

Realization slowly dawns on him; your gazes have made him lose his composure too many times for him not to know what being flustered looks like. He’d be lying if the fact that it was you in this tight spot and not him didn’t heavily stroke his ego. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You look beautiful,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper so that the approaching waitress can’t hear. Her presence saves you from responding verbally, but as she brings you to your table, you pinch his arm lightly as if to say Be on your best behavior—although Sunghoon would argue this was his best behavior.

You have trouble making up your mind about the food—you want to try everything on the menu. Sunghoon tentatively offers to order a bunch of dishes and share them. “It’s what my family always does at the restaurant, just try as much as you want and take the leftovers to go. We never ate out very often because my mom would spend so much money every time,” he recollects, smiling fondly.

“That actually sounds like a dream. My parents would never do that. It was always just eat what you got, but I’m unable to look at someone else’s food and not want to try it. It honestly should just be common practice to share dishes at the restaurant.”

Sunghoon thinks he could get down on one knee right then and there. Whenever they went out to eat, the boys would roll his eyes at him when he stole bites of their food. But you—you’re like him. He knows he’s prone to over-exaggeration, but he can’t help but feel like if you understand each other on this, you must understand each other at a molecular level.

He had expected a level of awkwardness to your date, at least at the beginning — God knows the moments in which he doesn’t feel like a mumbling fool in front of you are few and far between — but to his surprise, everything goes smoothly. There is no uncomfortable silence, all his jokes miraculously land, even the lousy ones, and you both laugh and talk and share sushi and pork cutlets like it’s the most natural thing in the world, which perhaps it is. His attempts at flirting are well-received and he only turns violently red twice when you compliment him and smile at him in a particularly pretty way.

It’s that day at the beach all over again. Always on the same page, you dip in and out of topics with a synergy he has rarely felt before. Sunghoon realizes it must be the presence of others, rather than you yourself, that makes him feel like he can’t act the way he wants to around you, makes him so nervous. Save for the moments where you make his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies’ wings, he actually feels quite at ease with you, all things considered. Of course, he still tries — and fails — to look cool for you, but he knows it comes from a place within himself rather than because you make him feel as though he has to meet a certain standard. Surprisingly, he can be totally himself, and it seems to be enough for you.

He loves his friends. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he’s not sure he won’t have moments where he’ll wish nothing more than for them all to go away and leave the two of you be.

You eat until you can’t anymore and are still left with enough food for another full meal. You only let him get the bill once he’s promised that next time will be on you. If it means there’ll be a next time, he’s more than happy with making that promise. The sun has set when you exit the restaurant. Sunghoon shivers as he steps outside, the temperature having gone down by at least four degrees in the last two hours.

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

Your apartment is a thirty-minute bus ride away, but Sunghoon offers to walk you home. Anything to spend more time with you.

He spends the first few minutes of the walk worrying about his hand, whether it’s too clammy, whether it’s holding yours right, but he eventually relaxes into the touch. When a particularly chilly gust of wind blows, you drop his hand and hold onto his arm instead, inching closer to him for more warmth.  He only drank lemonade with his meal, but he feels blissfully light-headed.

Silence only arrives when you reach your doorstep. You stand in front of each other, Sunghoon looking down at his feet, you gazing out at the empty street. He knows this is the moment where he is supposed to kiss you. If there was a step-by-step guide on how to date — there probably is, but Sunghoon hasn’t resorted to such loser-like measures yet — this would probably be the moment where it would be written to just kiss her, you idiot. But nerves get the best of him.

At least, you’re there to save the day. You direct your gaze towards him, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “So… are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask, essentially reading his mind. 

He reacts immediately. “Y-yep. Yes. I am.” Heart racing, he takes a step towards you as he rests his hands on your waist. Then he changes his mind, and brings one hand up to your cheek. There’s an eyelash that has fallen below your eye; he brushes it out of the way with his thumb before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

In all of his late-night scenarios and daydreams of kissing you, he had never imagined something as good as this. You find your rhythm within seconds. It’s slow, almost hesitant, yet so tender, it makes Sunghoon’s heart ache. As your lips move against each other in perfect sync, as your hands find their way around Sunghoon’s neck, he realizes he should have known — this will not go away as quickly as it came.

Only when you grab a fistful of his hair, making him react viscerally and wrap his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, does he remember where the two of you are. He leans back, then almost passes out when you chase his lips and press a shorter but just as sweet kiss there. He commits this view to memory—the smile on your lips, the glow on your face, the haziness in your eyes.

“Do you wanna come up?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, and it makes you laugh. You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs and into your apartment.

“Are the girls in?” he asks as you lock the front door.

“Minjeong is at karaoke with her school friends, and Yunjin and Chaewon are at a dinner party somewhere.”

“Minjeong karaokes?”

“Get enough G&Ts in her and she’ll do anything.”

You turn on a small lamp in your room and take off your jacket. Sunghoon has been in your apartment before, but never in your room—at some point, he’ll spend an hour observing every photograph and trinket in detail, asking you about every backstory, but right now, he’s got more important things to tend to. His heart beats uncontrollably as you shut the door to your room and walk towards him, eyes gazing deeply into his. The corners of your lips rise when you tug at the bottom of his sweatshirt, a clear indicator that you want it off. He wastes no time in obliging.

The air is buzzing with electricity when your lips find each other again. You’re both more confident this time around, and so the kiss is deeper, your touches bolder. Everything happens quickly—one second, you’re standing in the middle of your room; the next, you’re laying on your bed, Sunghoon underneath you. 

“You know,” he says between kisses, “I’d really planned on being a gentleman and not going up to your room after the first date…”

Your lips move from his lips to his jawline, warm and soft against his skin. Sunghoon closes his eyes and lets out a low hum of approval. “I’m glad you changed your mind,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck as you speak. “And since we’re onto confessions, I can finally say I’ve been wanting to do this since we met.”

This information sends his mind reeling. Not once had he been sure of how you felt about him — he even remembers you saying no to a kiss — and here you are, saying you’ve been wanting to kiss him since the beginning, just like he had. 

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

You pause your kisses to giggle, a sound so soft and intimate it has Sunghoon melting impossibly more. “You’re me?”

Unfortunately, he is too preoccupied by you to put a filter between the weird, half-formed thoughts in his brain and the words that leave his mouth. “Don’t question it,” he says, a smile audible in his voice, before moving his head and catching your lips. If he couldn’t stop himself from saying odd things, he could at least distract you from them.

Sunghoon thinks he’s doing a good job keeping himself together, until you roll your hips against his. It’s barely anything, but it sends waves of pleasure and anticipation through his body. His grip on your waist tightens, and when you repeat the motion, his hands sneakily find their way down your back and under your dress. Palms splayed against your ass, he brings you down closer to him. The second you moan into the kiss, he’s a goner. 

After that, it doesn’t take long for clothes to be discarded or for curious fingers to find the other’s waistbands. Your movements are hasty, messy—the tension that had built up over weeks of pining for you, after getting close to kissing you twice and thinking about it a hundred times more, it all comes crashing down in this moment, as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, as your hands pull at strands of his hair, as your bodies gently bump into each other. If someone asked Sunghoon right now how long he’d known you, he’d say years, not mere weeks. It couldn’t possibly be real that this much desire had accumulated inside of him — and inside of you, if your broken moans and rapid breathing are anything to go by — in just over a month. 

He only slows down when he has you naked and heaving underneath him, reminding himself to savor the moment instead of rushing it. His fingertips graze down your sides until they reach between your thighs, and he marvels at the way his touch makes you shiver. His eyes are so wide with amazement at the sight of you that he probably looks like he’s never seen a woman before, but he can’t help himself—he always thought you were beautiful, but this is something else entirely. 

His first touch is hesitant, a slow upward motion of his thumb between your folds as if quite literally testing the waters. But it has you arching your back and gripping his bicep, meeting his eyes to silently plead for more. Sunghoon takes that as his green light, thumb circling your clit as his lips continue their work on your neck, on your face, everywhere they can reach. He slips a finger inside of you, then a second one, and when he is satisfied with the state he’s gotten you in, all disheveled and gasping for air, he replaces his fingers with his dick, rock-hard just from seeing and hearing you.

He slowly inches forward until he’s bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “All good?” he whispers, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

“Never better,” you whisper back, smiling. You kiss him, and the tenderness of your lips on his, mixed with the feeling of being inside you, has Sunghoon’s heart constricting inside his chest. He starts rocking his hips back-and-forth into you, the side of his face is pressed up against yours, head light from the little oxygen the two of you share. It all feels oddly intimate for a first time, feels more like the kind of sex two people would have after years of knowing each other’s bodies. He moves like it’s second nature, thrusts deep and slow, trying to reach those spots that have your hands clawing at his back. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, using his free hand to push the hair that sticks to your face with sweat.

You wrap your legs higher around his hips, the shift in angle letting him go deeper. “Fuck, right there,” you say, voice strangled. Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice—he picks up his pace, and already within a minute, starts to feel himself reaching his limit. He tries to muffle his groans against your skin, but with the way your hold on him tightens and your moans go higher in pitch, you seem to be just as close as he is. When you do come undone around him, breath hitching in your throat before you release a heavy sigh, he has mere seconds left in him. A few thrusts later, his orgasm finally releases him from the tension that had been twisting his stomach into a knot for the past half-hour. You’re both spent, but he continues lazily rocking his hips against yours chasing the last remnants of pleasure, wanting to bask in it just a bit longer. He rolls onto his back after sliding out, wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.

His chest rises and falls as his breathing takes its time returning to normal. In a way, he’s almost relieved it’s over, like any longer would’ve actually taken too much of a toll on him. He likes the comfort he gets from having you in his arms as much as the sex itself. “I didn’t know it could feel this good,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. He needs more than a few minutes to get his head back on straight and start thinking before he speaks again. You chuckle airily, he chuckles too, and within seconds, you’re both laughing for seemingly no reason. The bliss of such an intense orgasm and the lack of oxygen must have gone to your brain, too.

“Me either,” you say once the laughter dies down. When your lips find his once more, Sunghoon forgets entirely about his exhaustion and feels like he could go for a second round. “Shower?” you ask right when he realizes how sticky and smelly he is.

“Yes, please.”

He can’t keep his hands off of you in the shower, rubbing soap on every square inch of your skin when you could do it perfectly fine yourself, kissing you even when you’ve both got foaming cleanser on your faces. The taste of soap in his mouth is worth the giggles he gets out of you.

Sunghoon reaches heaven when you drop to your knees in front of him, water rushing down his back as you take him in your mouth. He’s eager to return the favor, of course, thumb flicking your clit with a speed and dexterity even he didn’t know he was capable of. If you weren’t already in the shower, you’d have needed another one.

As soon as your bodies hit the mattress, you both drift off to sleep, limbs wrapping around each other as though they had been separated for too long and finally found each other again—not to let go again.

--

When Sunghoon wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize that he hadn’t dreamt up last night’s events. He reaches a hand out hesitantly, still half-asleep and scared that you’ll disappear into thin air at the touch of his fingertips. But no—he feels your skin, warm and soft, and he knows this is real.

You’re laying on your side, facing away from him, so he has to strain his neck to peek at your face. You look so peaceful as you sleep—he doesn’t want to wake you up, but he can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his torso against your back, humming contentedly to himself. He presses a soft, quiet kiss to the top of your head, just because he can.

Outside, clouds part, and a bright ray of sun shines through the window, landing right on your face. Sunghoon watches as you grumble and turn around, burying your face in his chest to avoid the blinding light, but the damage is done—you’re awake. He can tell from the drawled-out whine you let out and the way you grab tightly onto his waist, as if it was his fault the sun had decided to shine right on you. 

He lets you settle in a comfortable position. Stays still as you hike your leg over his legs, then slip it between them instead; as you press your cheek against his chest, then bury your nose in his neck; as you wrap your arm around his waist, then move it to thread your fingers through his hair, until you give up on falling back asleep altogether. “It’s so bright in here,” you mumble in lieu of a good-morning greeting.

You can’t see him, so Sunghoon smiles and tightens his grip around you—one arm circling your shoulders, the other, your waist. Skin to skin. “We forgot to close the blinds yesterday.”

“It’s okay,” you say, sighing. You press a kiss to the base of his neck, right between his collarbones, then lift your face to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

This is what it feels like to wake up next to her, Sunghoon thinks. He’d thought about it so many times: what you would look like first thing in the morning, what you’d say to him, what it’d feel like when your eyes met. If you’d be a slow sort of morning person, cuddling in bed with him until the very last possible second, or if you’d be up and about as soon as you woke up. If you’d be grumpy. If you’d want coffee. If you liked morning sex. 

It seems to be a recurring theme that Sunghoon’s imagination never quite lives up to reality. Your sleepy eyes boring into his, struggling to stay open, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck; your skin, so warm and so soft, your scent, so intoxicating he can barely think straight.

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

“I feel amazing, thank you so much for asking,” you say, burrowing yourself impossibly closer to him.

The two of you stay like this for a while, talking about your plans for the day and begrudging how little you want to go about them. Sunghoon wishes this could go on forever, but then his stomach growls so loudly, his face turns red from embarrassment. He hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. 

“You’re me,” you say, laughing, and Sunghoon can’t help but join in. “Is it crazy to have last night’s leftovers for breakfast?”

What Sunghoon hears is that you want him to stay; that you don’t want to part ways just yet.

“If by crazy you mean the best idea ever, then yes.”

“Amazing, because I’ve been thinking about that curry all night.”

“Really? I was thinking about something else,” he says, burrowing his face in your neck and leaving warm kisses there. 

You hum and lean into his touches, leaning into his touches. Chills run down his spine as your nails graze his sides. “There might’ve been other things occupying my mind, too.”

And just like that, breakfast is postponed to thirty minutes later.

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

His mind has never been so singularly taken up by sex in all of his life. It was already preoccupied with you most of the time, but now that it has more material to gnaw on, it’s practically started to eat away at him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen each other every day since, or that at every chance you get, you smile knowingly at him or try to get him to play footsies with you. Of course, he loves every bit of attention that he gets from you, but whenever he feels his heart get carried away, Minjeong’s words come back to him in a panic, and he remembers that he has no idea what it is that’s happening between you and him. You could be stringing him along, for all he knows, or you could be as into him as he is into you and just letting things happen. Unfortunately, just letting things happen was not something Sunghoon was good at—if things weren’t written black and white, he’d find a way to overthink even the littlest of details. Like how you’d kissed him for a good five minutes before letting him leave your apartment, otherwise known as the least platonic parting to exist, or conversely, like how you’d sometimes take hours to reply to texts.

If he was already a mumbling fool in front of you before, his condition has only worsened now. He tries his best to be normal and not make you or anyone in the group feel weird, but the fact is that you rocked his world and now he can’t look you in the eyes and not remember how it felt when you touched him or the sounds you made or the way you looked. It’s all playing in a loop in his mind and the only way he knows how to control it is by limiting his interactions with you, which doesn’t even work that well. 

The first couple days, you seem amused by his shyer-than-usual demeanor, but you quickly grow confused more than anything. Sunghoon won’t sit next to you, only speaks to you when necessary, doesn’t seek you out outside of a group setting. He tells himself he just needs some more time to be able to be around you casually again, but before that happens, one day at the library, you make a point to ask him if he’ll come help you get drinks for everyone from the dispenser machine. He knows it’d be too odd to say no, so he follows you.

He presses the buttons for everyone’s order (a Sprite for him, Diet Cokes for the girls, a Red Bull for Jake who has a midterm tomorrow and nothing for Jay who only swears by his disgusting herbal infusion) as you lean against the machine, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him.

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

“So…” he starts although he has no idea what to say—he hopes something will just appear in his mind and that it’ll alleviate the tension. However, you seem to have other plans.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?” you say, taking him aback. When he glances at you, you don’t seem angry—just genuinely confused. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I haven’t!”

“Sunghoon,” you say sternly. He gives in right away.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just-I didn’t know what to do. After we, you know…”

“After we had sex?” you say, then burst into laughter when he looks around the room to make sure no one’s heard. His cheeks heat up.

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

He pays for the drinks and picks them up. When he looks at you again, your smile has completely died down, and worry has settled into your features. “Do you regret it?” you ask, voice now as low as his. As if it hurts to say the words too loud.

Panic overcomes him, and he almost drops half of the drinks as he shakes his head. “No, of course not! I’m really sorry, Y/N, I never meant to be weird about it, I was just trying to wrap my head around everything, and I just… Well, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

You nod, taking his words in. “That’s fine. I get it. I just wanted to say, you know, it doesn’t have to change anything. We can still be friends and all. Like you said, it shouldn’t make things weird.”

Sunghoon’s stomach drops. He knows you’re trying to make him feel better, but you’ve inadvertently said the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. He doesn’t want things to stay the same, or for you to stay friends. For him, things can’t go back to normal after that night — whatever normal means for the two of you — and he was foolishly hoping that you felt the same.

But clearly, you want to let the whole thing die and pretend like it never happened. And whether it’s a good thing or not, his feelings for you have grown so much, he’ll just let you lead him anywhere. Even if that turns out to be nowhere. 

So he conjures up the most convincing smile he can, hands you half of the drinks to carry, and says, “Yeah, sounds good.”

--

After that conversation, Sunghoon doesn’t think anything else will happen between the two of you. You had sex, you talked it out, and that’s the end of it. But then, it turns out that both of your last midterms are at the same time, in the same building, so you invite him to celebrate with pork belly and some drinks. Sunghoon is finishing his second beer when he starts to feel like he’s on that date again, laughing for no reason, butterflies in his stomach every time his gaze catches yours. You lean on your hand as you listen to him talk about a stupid memory from his childhood and he thinks he’s never seen anyone as pretty as you. 

The sun has long set when you say, “You know, it’s Wednesday today.”

He’s not sure what you’re trying to get at. “Yeah?”

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

With these simple words, all the images of you that Sunghoon had finally managed to banish from his mind come flooding back, and he is not even surprised to find himself half-naked in your bed thirty minutes later. So much for staying friends—one time is one thing, but Sunghoon knows he’ll never be normal again after a second time with you.

It’s not a long time before he finds himself in your room again. Every item of clothing between the two of you is gradually discarded while you kiss, lips growing more impatient with every inch of bare skin uncovered. He reluctantly lets you go when you suddenly giggle and say that you really need to pee, watching as you grab his t-shirt off the floor and put it on, just in case Minjeong comes home. You wear it like it’s yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world that you’d be wearing his clothes. An indescribable feeling washes over Sunghoon at the sight, so intense he feels tears welling behind his eyes. Like something he’s been yearning for is finally at the grasp of his fingers; like it might slip away at any moment. 

His feelings must’ve transpired in the way he was looking at you—when you meet his eyes, your expression shifts slightly, and you quickly slip out of your room. He tells himself to reel it in. Get it together, he thinks. Or you’ll drive her away. 

A wave of tiredness hits him in the minute that you’re gone, probably due to all that soju and beer. “I’m back,” you whisper, but he doesn’t move, only opens his arms wide for you to get back into bed with him. It’s like a weight is lifted off his heart when he feels you against him again. You’re back. Your face is fresh, as if you’d splashed it with cold water, but when he slips one of his hands underneath your (his) t-shirt, your skin is still just as warm as before. Far from the fuzzy, tingly feeling he had gotten when you’d woken up together the other morning, now, he feels his desire for you deep in the pit of his stomach. The kind of hunger food couldn’t satisfy. “I missed you,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly. He reacts immediately when you squirm against him, tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you to him.

“I was gone two minutes.”

“I mean these past few days. I was starting to think I’d dreamt you up.” His hand on your lower back sneaks its way up between your bodies until it finds your breasts, cupping one of them with his palm before taking your nipple between his thumb and index, gently twisting. It pulls a half-gasp, half-moan from your throat, and the sound goes straight to his dick. “But you’re real, aren’t you?” 

“Very real,” you reply, a tremor in your voice. He’s barely touching you, and you’re already having trouble breathing. Sunghoon smiles at the idea of him having as much of a hold on you as you do on him.

“Good,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. In one quick sweep, he pushes you down so your back is against the mattress, resting his palms on each side of your head.

He’s inside you within mere minutes. He’d wanted to hold back a bit, but you whispering Just put it in after thirty seconds of his fingers loosening you up was enough to convince him. His mind is already fuzzy with remnants of alcohol, and his overwhelming desire for you only makes matters worse. He barely has any control over his movements, rushed and sloppy, but as he drives himself deeper into you, your moans increase in volume. He only later realizes how tight his grip on your hips is when he sees two small bruises forming on the skin there. 

He comes quickly, probably embarrassingly so, but he can’t bring himself to care—he’s got other things on his mind. He’s not even bothered to discard the condom as he makes his way down your body, lips around your clit before you’ve even had the time to register what was happening. You cry out, a sound that Sunghoon works to pry out of you over and over again. Even when your thighs start shaking and you squirm away from him, he doesn’t relent. He’s just as desperate to make you feel good as he was desperate chasing his own pleasure earlier. He hooks his arms around your thighs, bringing you down to him and ensuring that you can’t get away. One hand still in his hair, the other clutching the bed sheets, you’ve turned your face sideways into the pillow so that your moans come out muffled. He is only satisfied when you’ve reached your second orgasm. 

As your breath slowly returns to normal, Sunghoon makes his way back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You clear your throat of its dryness and burst into soft, quiet laughter. “What’s funny?” Sunghoon murmurs, lips against your neck. 

“Nothing,” you say, still laughing. “That was just really, really nice.”

Sunghoon smiles. “I’m glad,” he says before kissing you, lips moving slowly against yours.

As he lays against you, the top of his head under your chin and your fingernails grazing along his back, a weird feeling overcomes him. Sunghoon is usually a pine-from-afar sort of guy, with at least five instances of hanging out that could or could not be a date before making things any sort of official. The pining has been a constant with all of his crushes. He’s gotten to the hanging out stage a couple of times, but the officialising has only happened once. Despite its low success rate, it’s a cycle Sunghoon feels comfortable with, and he’d imagined the rest of his romantic encounters would follow that pattern. 

But this is completely different. Of the three times you guys have met separately from your friend group, already two times have included sex. This isn’t a stage Sunghoon usually reaches before at least a few months and it disorientates him. What does it mean? That you like him so much, you decided to skip all of the steps and jump straight into the thick of it? He is reasonable enough not to delude himself into such a thought. He likes you a lot—that much he can be sure of. He’s liked you since the moment he laid eyes on you, even if the reason eludes him. Something in the way you smiled at him, the way you took him in stride as if you’d known him forever. When he thinks back to that party, he can’t believe it started out as the two of you being strangers. Even now, feeling your warm skin against his, it feels like a lie that just two months ago he hadn’t even met you. 

What he can’t say with total certainty is that you like him the same amount. Or that you like him any amount, really, although in his naivety he doesn’t understand how anyone could be this intimate with another person without liking them at least a little bit. And he doesn’t just mean the sex. He means this. The silently laying in each other’s arms, the soft kisses, the caresses wherever hands can reach. Eating post-sex snacks together, laughing as you watch the first episode of each other’s favorite sitcoms (Brooklyn Nine-Nine for him, Pen15, oddly enough, for you). Falling asleep together, cuddling the entire night then waking up and diving right back into each other’s embrace. 

After an entire day spent in rumination, Sunghoon’s still not sure what to make of it all.

All he knows is that when he DMs you that night, asking you how your day went, he goes through every emotion between anxiety, self-hatred and indifference in the five minutes that separate his text from your reply. He’s never been so happy to hear that someone couldn’t concentrate in class because of him.

--

Sunghoon has always been obsessed with the way couples stand together in public. 

Every time, it takes everything in him not to stare, because he wants to take in every little thing they do. He has that practically everywhere he goes, wanting to stare at people just to see what their deal is, but he is never quite as simultaneously fascinated and envious as when he spots a couple. But he knows staring isn’t the socially appropriate thing to do, so he either steals glances or watches for a little bit then pretends they aren’t there. He can’t help himself—even if they aren’t holding hands or obnoxiously making out in public, it’s still visible to anyone with eyes that there is something tying these people together. It’s in the way they stand near each other, their bodies turned inwardly, as though enveloped by a bubble containing just the two of them and no one else; in the way they look at each other, their eyes never straying from the other’s face as they talk, intimacy showing itself even in a loud, crowded room. Sunghoon craves to find that proximity, to be able to touch and be touched so softly, every graze of a hand purposeful and unconscious at the same time.

It’s the first of November already. The Weather app, as it tends to do, has deceived you; so instead of a walk on what was supposed to be a sunny day, you find yourselves in a busy café near the University, the air outside too chilly even with your scarves and gloves. You’re waiting for your order at the end of the counter — a mocha for him, an oat flat white for you — when he notices it. Your body is fully facing him, you’re distractedly playing with the hem of his sweatshirt, and you’re not looking at anything but him as you rant about that annoying classmate of yours that goes by a self-made nickname and always talks over the tutor. In this light, the two of you are like the couples he’s always longed to be—the simple thought makes him want to cry. As more and more often is the case these days, you have no idea what you’re doing to him.

It’s been around two months since you first met and in that time, although Sunghoon is lucky not to have enough fingers to count the number of times you have seen each other one-on-one, not much has happened. Minjeong, who had understood what was going on the first time she saw the two of you eating leftovers from the Japanese restaurant on the couch at 10 a.m., has grown accustomed to his presence in the apartment and even sometimes sits down to watch a movie with the two of you—a movie that Chaewon would usually have forced you to watch in the living room instead of the privacy of your bedroom, so that everyone could join. Sunghoon is just glad Minjeong has stopped silently scolding him with her eyes every time he comes out of your room. She never mentions that night when she essentially warned him against you after the party. 

Jake seems to be the only oblivious one in your group. Yunjin and Chaewon have eyes like hawks and horrifyingly vivid imaginations when they put their heads together, so they were probably already making plans for your wedding and fighting for the title of godmother when you and Sunghoon met at the beginning-of-semester party. They cornered him once at a party and forced him to spill the beans and spare no detail, because you apparently were “denying everything, but we know there’s something going on.” Jay is still Sunghoon’s go-to person when he needs advice concerning you, although the older boy doesn’t understand why it has to be so complicated and always tells him to “just tell her how you feel,” which Sunghoon will not do unless there is a gun to his head. But Jake just seems happy to see his friend and his sister get along this well—no matter how many times you wear his jacket at their games or disappear at the same time at the end of parties, he doesn’t grow suspicious. If he does, he doesn’t mention it to Sunghoon, at least.

Between the two of you, not a word is spoken about the nature of your relationship, which remains unbearingly undefined. For a while, he weakly convinces himself that he doesn’t need to have that conversation with you. He’s young, he’s free, he should be able to enjoy casual sex without putting a label on it. The main problem, though, was that the sex could not be further from casual, at the very least not to Sunghoon.

He has never known anything quite like it. In mere weeks, you’ve both mastered the art of pleasuring each other. He understands your body like it’s his, knows what each of the sounds and expressions you make means. He knows where to touch you to have a kiss go from light-hearted to dizzyingly intense, how to move his mouth to have you arching your back and holding onto him for dear life. And you—he thinks your skin must be laced with cocaine, the way he can never get enough of it. 

But it’s always the moments afterwards that get him in his head. To him, casual sex means getting dressed the minute it’s over and going off to do other things, which is the absolute opposite of what you do. Whether it’s falling asleep together or spending Sundays in bed, you always stay together afterwards, curled up in each other’s arms as you talk away the hours, conversations interspersed with slow, lazy kisses. He’ll say things like, “You’re so pretty,” or “Why do you smell so good?” because he’s so smitten with you that he can never stop himself from uttering every compliment that flashes through his brain, but the things he really wants to say are harder to speak out loud. Even just a What are we?—three simple words that he can’t bring himself to ask, too scared it’ll ruin everything. 

Arguably worse is that sex isn’t even a requirement for when you and Sunghoon see each other. He goes on walks with you whenever you’ve spent too much time in the library and need some fresh air. You go shopping with him when his department throws a fundraiser and he needs a formal outfit. He cooks you your favorite meal when your period is particularly nasty. You sneak into the ice rink after his practice and let him ‘teach’ you how to skate, even though you already learned how with Jake when you were kids. Even mundane moments become fun when spent with you, and you share so many hobbies and interests that you never run out of things to do or talk about.

And yet, it feels like one step forward, two steps back with you—if you let him close one night, you’ll run away the next. A week will pass without you seeing each other outside of the library or group hang-outs, and if Sunghoon asks you out, you’ll say no, usually blaming the amount of work you have. He gets it—due to the nature of your degree and your being a fourth-year student, your workload is much heavier than his, with essays, translations and oral presentations due every other week. And that’s not even including midterms and finals. But still, he doesn’t see why you would need to stay at the library for ten hours straight for days on end. He’d start worrying about your health if you didn’t at least relax on weekends. 

So while Sunghoon wants nothing more than to go all in with you, he senses you holding back. He notices you avoiding eye contact during particularly intimate moments, and when you look at him perhaps too fondly for your liking, you quickly catch yourself and resume your neutral, sometimes almost cold expression. When he tries to broach more personal, sensitive topics, you always find a way to change the subject or turn the conversation towards him before you get too deep. 

As time passes, and especially as exam season nears, he can tell there’s something that you’re not telling him about. His suspicions are confirmed when you come back from a weekend at your parents’ house. He’s also been away for an out-of-town hockey game, and because he hasn’t had much time to text you (and because their team won, so he wants to show off a little), he’s particularly looking forward to seeing you again that Monday. It’s only been three days since you’ve last seen each other, but he misses you like crazy. 

But the minute you’re back, you bury yourself in work like never before, often waking up at ungodly hours and staying at the library until midnight. More than once, he stays behind with you, long after the others have gone, reminding you gently every hour that it might be time to go home and get some rest. The moments you actually agree are few and far between, and although he sticks it out at first, sleeping with his head on the table until you tell him you’re ready to go, your stubbornness soon starts frustrating him, and he ends up leaving when he gets too tired. He knows this is important to you, but he doesn’t understand why you have to go to these lengths—you’d still easily be one of the best students in your class without all this exertion. And despite his many attempts, you won’t tell him what’s wrong, won’t even admit that something is wrong—you keep repeating that “it’s just what exam season is like.”

When he asks your friends about it, they seem just as confused as he is. One evening when you have plans to order some food and watch a movie at your apartment, he shows up at the agreed time, but you’re nowhere to be found. Thankfully, the girls are there to let him up and not leave him standing outside in the rain. You don’t pick up when he calls you and call him back a minute later, apologizing profusely but still saying that there’s something you really need to finish first. If it was only a one-time thing, it wouldn’t make him as angry as it does—but this has been going on for almost two weeks now, and Sunghoon is close to boiling point. 

The fact that it’s been months since your date at the Japanese restaurant, and the only thing that you’ve said about what was happening between you and Sunghoon “didn’t have to change anything.” The fact that you’re essentially each other’s boyfriend and girlfriend without the label or the reassurance that comes with it. The fact that there’s something clearly bothering you but that you won’t tell him about it. The fact that this something is effectively coming between the two of you. Sunghoon was originally more worried about you than anything—now that studying has taken obvious precedence over him in your list of priorities, he’d be lying if he said his ego wasn’t wounded. He isn’t asking to be the number one most important thing in your life, and he knew before even meeting you that high academic performance meant a lot to you, but he likes to think he deserves at least a little bit of your time and attention. 

Except, does he really? It’s not like you’re actually dating.

There’s a pang in his heart as he remembers this fact that he should never have forgotten in the first place. It hurts—and so perhaps, he’s less patient than he ought to be.

“Whatever, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, just let me know when you have time for something other than getting As.”

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

“She still at the library?” Chaewon asks, tone delicate as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal. Sunghoon nods, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. 

“She always studies a lot,” Minjeong starts, “but this is something else.”

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

The girls nod. “Even Jake has talked to her, but she won’t listen. And he usually always gets to her,” Minjeong says. 

He goes home soon afterwards and spends the rest of his evening in rumination, torn between his worry and his anger towards you—emotions which only increase as more days pass, and he sees less and less of you. Your behavior was already concerning while preparing for your exams and final assignments, it gets even worse when exams actually do start. He doesn’t hear from you for an entire week, and the one time you miraculously agree to a short group hang-out in the form of getting coffee, you’re only half there, physically present but mind far, far away. You barely react when the guys tell you about their victory at the latest hockey game—which you didn’t attend, as well as any other game recently. 

No matter how much he tries to put it out of his mind, to focus on his own exams and hockey games, you stay at the forefront of his thoughts. The hockey team is away for another out-of-town game when he decides to broach the subject with Jake, with whom he’s sharing a room. The entire semester, he’s been careful not to raise Jake’s suspicions about the two of you, both out of consideration for you, who’d mentioned you didn’t want your brother to know what was going on, and for himself, who would also rather Jake not know, at least not until your relationship became official. Which it never did. But now that all he gets from you is radio silence at a time when you’d usually be an hour into a FaceTime call, he can’t help himself.

Jake is just coming out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, when Sunghoon takes his shot in the dark. “Have you heard from Y/N recently?” he asks as nonchalantly as he can, pretending to not be avidly waiting for his friend’s reaction by keeping his eyes on his phone.

“Y/N?” Jake echoes. “No, not really. Why?”

“Just ‘cause I haven’t seen her around much. I’m wondering if everything’s okay.”

“You mean her staying at the library all day?” Sunghoon nods; Jake sighs. “Yeah, she’ll snap out of it soon enough. She gets somewhat like this every time exams come around, but even I have to admit it’s pretty tough this time around. The last time I saw her like this was way back in high school, and that’s because our parents were watching right over her shoulder. It’s been better in university thanks to the distance.”

“So this has to do with your parents?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. She’s always wanted to do well at school, but she only gets this obsessive when our parents are involved.”

“I guess this did start after that weekend when she went home…” Sunghoon muses absent-mindedly. It could’ve passed off as an off-hand remark, but Jake pauses in his movements and looks at him warily.

“Yeah, she did… You noticed that, huh?”

Sunghoon pauses. This whole time, he was sure Jake was oblivious to anything happening between you and him—but he might have underestimated his friend. Like brother, like sister; he can hardly read either of you when he really needs to. Jake might genuinely be surprised that Sunghoon remembered your whereabouts that weekend, or he’s onto him. “I guess I did,” he finally says, going for as noncommittal an answer as he can.

Jake says nothing for a bit, and Sunghoon thinks he’s managed to get through the conversation without raising too much suspicion—until a minute later, when Jake speaks again. “Do you… like Y/N?”

Sunghoon freezes, snapping his head towards Jake, who’s lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His first instinct is to deny, but there’s no point pretending anymore. It’s one thing keeping it from Jake—lying to him about it is something else entirely. It’s an uncomfortable conversation, but it must be had. “Yeah, I do,” Sunghoon replies, guilt clear in his voice, more because he’s only now admitting it to Jake than because of his feelings themselves.

A shaky breath comes out of Jake’s mouth, as if this was the exact answer he had dreaded. “Right, okay. Since when?”

“Since I met her, basically.”

Jake’s head whips towards Sunghoon, and their gazes meet awkwardly. “Since that party in September?” he asks, shock written all over his face. Sunghoon nods, and to his surprise, Jake bursts out laughing. “Don’t tell me it’s because you accidentally matched costumes?”

Sunghoon looks away, frowning. “That might’ve helped things along,” he mumbles, embarrassment washing over him as Jake’s laughter intensifies. At least he was taking it well—a bit too well, perhaps.

“You’re so predictable, man,” Jake says when he’s calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“How did you know, anyway?”

“You’ve been pretty obvious with it recently,” Jake replies after a few seconds. “I could tell you were a bit shy around her at first, and when it got better I just thought you’d become friends or something. But when she showed up with your jacket at every game and you never left her side at parties, I assumed something else was going on. You’ve always been staying behind at the library these days, and I know you don’t have that much work.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I guess I haven’t been trying hard to hide it lately.”

“Yeah, why would you hide it in the first place? You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

Jake frowns. “It wouldn’t have been weird. If anything, hiding it makes it weirder.”

“I just thought, if one of my friends had a crush on my sister, I’d probably rather they hid it. Like, I don’t need to know about that,” Sunghoon says, and it makes Jake laugh.

“Dude, Y/N and I are only a year apart. Do you know how many guys have come up to me asking me for her number or advice on how to ask her out? It’s been, like, one every few months since middle school. Guys here especially have no shame telling me how hot they find her.”

Sunghoon makes a face. He doesn’t disagree, but he’d never go out of his way to tell your brother how exquisite you looked in certain outfits. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, it is. But you’re my friend, not some greasy rando, so I trust you. If anything, I’d probably have to tell her to be nice to you, and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, you could say that again,” Sunghoon grumbles, then realizes his mistake immediately, eyes widening.

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, sounding genuine at first, but when Sunghoon stays quiet for a couple seconds, debating whether he should just lay the truth bare, Jake sits up on the bed and repeats his question, his tone much warier this time around. Sunghoon glances at him then looks away guiltily.

“Well, to be completely honest… We’ve sort of been seeing each other, kind of. But it’s complicated.”

Jake flops back down on his mattress with a grunt. “Who else knows?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes with his hands as if suddenly very exhausted.

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

“Well, Jay, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon.”

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

“Since October,” Sunghoon mumbles, feeling guiltier than ever. He’s belatedly realizing that it would’ve been much easier to have everything out in the open from the get-go, both with you and with Jake; now he’s both stuck in situationship limbo and has to face the consequences of keeping something this important from one of his closest friends. “Are you upset?” Sunghoon asks, feeling a bit like a ten-year-old.

“Kinda, yeah, but more at her than at you. I’ve told her not to go after anyone from the hockey team.”

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

“Yeah. God, that was messy. He gave her mixed signals for so long, I could barely talk to him without thinking of her crying for so long. And now he’s the one who can’t quite look me in the eye,” Jake says, shaking his head at the mere thought of his captain.

“Was it that bad? She made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Really? It upset her for a while though,” he says, then turns his head to look at the ceiling again. “I guess that’s not so surprising of her. She sometimes likes pretending she doesn’t have any emotions, even though I’m pretty sure she has more than most people.”

“Huh.” That would explain some things, Sunghoon muses. Emotions are not a topic that comes up very often with you, and every time he’s gotten an inkling of them, you seem to shut it all down immediately.

“But you know, I’m more surprised than anything. About… about it all, really. Not just that you’re only telling me now, but that it’s lasted this long. She must really like you.”

“You think?” Sunghoon says, his face brightening with hope, the words slipping from him before he can stop them once again. He shrinks when Jake laughs at him.

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“But yeah, dude. I’ve told you about this. I’ve never seen her in a relationship, ever. Says she doesn’t have the time,” Jake says, air-quoting you. “I’ve only had the displeasure of seeing her go home with one-night-stands. You know that since she started college, she’s had a rule that she’d only see someone three times and that was it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, so she wouldn’t catch feelings. I’m telling you, she’s crazy. So you must be special.”

Sunghoon can’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips—special. But it doesn’t make him feel that much better, either. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, so I’m not sure how special I can be…”

Jake’s head turns to look at Sunghoon again, but the younger boy keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling fan above him. “What’s happening between you guys?”

A blush creeps on Sunghoon’s cheeks. “Is this something you really want to talk about?”

“Well, spare me the gruesome details, please,” Jake says, chuckling, “but yeah, I would like to know what’s going on with my best friend and my sister.”

“I’m your best friend?” Sunghoon says, grinning as he meets Jake’s gaze, who rolls his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “Well, I didn’t think it would happen more than once-”

“What would happen more than once?”

Sunghoon pauses. “Well, you know…” Jake gives him a look as if to say, Well, no, I don’t know, so Sunghoon is forced to go on: “Sleeping together.”

“You guys slept together?!” Jake exclaims, sitting up on his bed once again.

“Yeah, what did you think?”

“I don’t know, just that you were going on dates, hanging out one-on-one, or whatever…”

“Well, we were.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Jake says, waving his hand in front of his face like swatting a fly away. “So, not just once, then?”

“No. And I thought it’d be a one-time thing, ‘cause a few days afterwards she said something about it not having to change our friendship…”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. But then it did. Happen again, I mean. And it’s been happening frequently since. But we’re not… dating dating. We haven’t had that conversation.”

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

Sunghoon releases a shaky breath. Why not, indeed. “‘Cause she hasn’t mentioned it. And I’m too scared to do it.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The typical stuff. What we have now… it’s not what I want, but it’s managed to not disrupt the group, you know. I’m scared that if I tell her how I feel, it’ll make things awkward between the two of us, and between all of us by extension.”

“Well, it might,” Jake says after thinking for a few seconds. “I wish I could tell you with certainty that she’ll like you back, but I honestly can’t. As obvious as you were towards her, she was not giving anything away.” Sunghoon chuckles, more out of self-deprecation than anything. This was not the pep talk he had hoped for. “But, I can tell you that she won’t be the type to make things awkward. You have nothing to risk by telling her, because in the long run, you’ll be better off that way. I know you, Sunghoon. You’ll be miserable if you can’t be fully yourself with someone.”

Decidedly, Sunghoon’s friends had a way of telling him the exact opposite of the things he wanted to hear while being completely right. He wishes things with you could stay the same — minus the overworking yourself and ignoring him in the process — and that he wouldn’t have to do anything that might make them change. But just as Jake said, he’d also reach a point where he couldn’t take it anymore—a point he was already inching closer and closer to with every passing day. He likes you enough to let you not define the relationship, but he likes you too much to let it go on. He likes you too much to not be able to tell you, and show you, and remind you of it every day. He hated having to hold back, and he hated feeling you holding back. He wanted to give you his all and he wanted all of you, too, not just bite-sized portions of you.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her lately, but I’ll have to tell her soon enough. When her exams are over, I guess.”

Jake sighs. “Yeah. I don’t know if there’s any getting through to her right now.”

“She’s blown me off so many times! I don’t know what she’s doing, spending so many hours in that library. I’d go insane.”

“She’s a perfectionist,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I’ve talked to her about it. When it comes to school, she needs everything to be as flawless as can be. She spends hours re-reading and editing her work. It’s not good.”

“Not really, no.”

“But she’s only got a week left. I’ll try to convince her not to go home for too long, and it’ll be better after the holidays. Then we’ll make sure there’s not a repeat of this next exam season.”

He thinks of Christmas break and of not seeing you for two weeks; of next semester and going through all of this with you a second time. The uncertainty, the fooling around behind your friends’ backs — although that might not be needed now that Jake is in on it too — Sunghoon’s not sure if he can go through it all again. “Yeah, we will.”

--

They lose their game the following day. They had an amazing run, either winning or tying every game so far; this loss is not enough to make them drop significantly in the rankings, but it’s enough to demoralize Sunghoon. It couldn’t have come at a worse time—between you and this failed game, his self-esteem is taking a real hit.

He dared hope for some comfort from you once he was back, but in vain. He doesn’t know why he imagined your attitude might’ve changed overnight, and when he texts you asking to hang out, the same old sorry I can’t atm fills his phone screen. And just like that, as strong as his feelings for you have been all this time, so is his resentment—unwarranted, perhaps, but he thinks he deserves better than this, and he’s both angry at you for not giving him anything and at himself for letting it happen.

Now, he’s the one who spends hours working himself to the bone in the ice rink, who’s clearly preoccupied with other things when everyone gets together, and who doesn’t even show up to the party the whole group goes to when you’re all done with exams. The last game before winter break is in two days, and he doesn’t want to waste a day nursing a hangover when he could be practicing.

That night, he thinks everyone is out at some random club downtown, so he does a double-take when it’s past eleven p.m. and you show up at the rink. He’s skating laps, practicing his speed and his goal-shooting, only noticing you when you’re standing in the middle of the rink. He almost skates right into you.

“Y/N?” he asks, not completely sure you’re not just a figment of his imagination. He’s so exhausted, he wouldn’t be surprised if he were dreaming you up.

“Jay texted me.”

“Oh. Why?” He’s out of breath, and the words come out blunter than he intends them to.

“Because it’s almost midnight and you’re still here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, but your eyebrows are furrowed in what looks like worry. It’s the first time Sunghoon’s seeing you concerned over something other than an assignment. 

He shrugs and resumes his laps, slower this time, forcing you to keep turning on your feet. “I’m practicing. There’s a big game coming up.”

“Which is exactly why you should be resting, like everyone else on your team right now.”

He resists rolling his eyes. “Why would I rest when I could be getting better?”

“Because you need rest as much as you need practice. You won’t be any use on the rink if you’re too tired to play properly.”

“And I won’t be any use if I can’t shoot properly, either.”

“Sunghoon, you need a break. You’re clearly exhausted-Will you stop it?” you suddenly snap. “I’m trying to talk to you, and I’m getting dizzy.” 

Your small outburst only has him growing more agitated, and even though he does stop, it’s more so you can see the annoyance on his face than anything. “You know, this is a bit rich coming from you, Y/N.” He knows this is not the right time to bring this up—if he has grievances against you, he shouldn’t be bringing them up when he’s already frustrated. He’s well aware of this, but he can’t help himself.

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who spends twelve hours a day in the library during exams and does not budge even if I tell you you should go home.”

“That’s different-”

“How is it any different?” he interrupts, voice rising. “You don’t listen to me when you overwork yourself. I don’t see why I should.”

“So you realize that you’re overworking yourself?”

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

“Y/N, please. I have to win as much as you have to get the top grades. Is it actually necessary? No, but you know how shit it feels not to.”

“And it’s exactly because I know that feeling that I’m telling you to stop. You’re just feeding into it.”

“So are you, staying until 2 a.m. in the library. You’ve never once gone home when I asked you to.”

“Again, that’s different-”

“How?! How is it different? Please enlighten me, ‘cause they’re the exact same thing to me.”

You sigh. A sudden sadness appears on your face. Sunghoon is torn between wanting to see this to its end and taking everything he’s said back. But he keeps quiet, and your eyes, when they meet his again, harden. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

As if you couldn’t say your next words while looking at him, you tear your gaze away from his face. “Because I’m actually concerned about you, here. The only reason you want me to stop and go home is so we can fuck.”

Sunghoon is so astounded that all words fail him—he stares at you, mouth wide open like you just shot him. After a few seconds, all he’s able to come up with is an incredulous, “What?” His voice is a mere whisper. 

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

He closes his mouth and swallows. “So… you’re the one who’s worried, and I’m only after sex?”

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

A chuckle escapes Sunghoon’s throat, then another, until laughter spills out of him uncontrollably. He feels like the world is upside down. How could you have lived the same thing and come out of it with such different perspectives? Your account of his intentions with you is so ridiculous and unfathomable to him that he can’t do anything but laugh.

You seem taken aback at first, but your surprise quickly turns into annoyance. “Something funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” he says, holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All he finds at the end of his amusement is anger, bright red and hot. It’s not an emotion he feels often, its rarity only serving as an intensifier—he starts making his way out of the rink before it can explode and hit you in its wake. “Well, that’s convinced me to call it a day. So you got what you came for, I guess.”

His fingers tremble as he undoes the laces on his skates and puts his sneakers on again. You stand by the door of the rink, holding onto the frame as you look at him, that same sad look still on your face. “Hoon,” you say, voice weak. What would usually have him melting only has his anger flare harder.

“Don’t. For the first time ever, I actually really don’t want to talk to you right now.” He stands up, gives you one last harsh look, and turns away. He only halts right before exiting the bleacher area, and after a couple seconds of thinking, turns back around. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I want to fuck again. Since that’s all this is, clearly.”

--

It seemed to you no one thought you were good enough for Sunghoon.

Only Yunjin and Chaewon seemed excited at the prospect of the two of you getting together, or at least getting to know each other, but they were also the type to coo at dogs in the street and tear up at the sight of old people holding hands; Minjeong was apprehensive from the start, and made it clear; Jay was indifferent; Jake was oblivious for a while. Sunghoon was…

What was Sunghoon?

Someone who had come out of nowhere, shaken up your routine and messed with your head. That’s what Sunghoon was. He didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest.

Maybe it was your fault for not opening up to the people closest to you and letting them think you were some kind of no-strings-attached one-night-stands-only emotionless maneater who had been single for as long as they had known her, who would be seen with someone new every few months, and never for long, who, as far as the eye could tell, only used men for sex. Maybe it was their fault for never trying to dig deeper.

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

Based on your conversations with your friends, they thought Heeseung had broken your heart, and you had never bounced back properly. He’d hurt you so much, you couldn’t fathom a real relationship anymore—you could only be with someone casually. Which wasn’t so far from the truth, but what Heeseung had done was much worse than just breaking your heart. He’d confirmed what you already knew of yourself: you want too much. You want what you can’t have, what you don’t deserve.

From the moment you met Park Sunghoon, you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. Minjeong seemed to agree, and when she saw you and him together at choir that Saturday in September, three months ago already, she made sure you knew her thoughts on the matter.

“This is so… unlike you,” was the first thing she’d said after she pulled you aside. 

“What is?”

“This,” she repeated, waving her arms around. “Being here. Coming with him.” She pointed at Sunghoon, whose hair was being ruffled by one grandma and his cheek pulled by another. He kept glancing back worriedly at you—you liked him so much already. “See? You’re smiling at him,” she said, making you realize a sappy smile had started growing on your lips at the sight of him. Your face dropped and you scoffed at the disgust in her voice.

“Yeah, some of us like to smile. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Y/N, you know what I’m trying to say.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

She sighed. “You don’t do this. You don’t meet a guy and show up to his choir practice the next morning. What’s happening?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Had you known your presence would be questioned like that, you might’ve thought twice about coming. “Can’t a girl enjoy a choir without getting interrogated these days?”

“You’re avoiding my question! Listen, Y/N. Sunghoon is not the kind of guy you usually go for. He’s-Stop. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“If you like Sunghoon, you can just tell me. You know I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go after a guy my best friend likes.”

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

Minjeong shook her head violently and put her hands on your shoulders, staring into your brain as if trying to make you see some sense. Calmly, she said, “No, I don’t. Sunghoon’s nice, but he is so far from my type. He’s too… nice.”

“You mean he doesn’t wear leather jackets or ride a motorcycle?”

“That was once. But no, he doesn’t do that. And what I’m trying to tell you is that he’s not your type either.”

“And how have you gathered that?”

“Because so far, you’ve only wisely chosen guys who are as detached and emotionally stunted as you.”

“I’m not-”

“But he’s not like that, Y/N. He’s the bring-home-to-your-parents-for-Christmas type. Not the hump-and-dump type.”

“I’m starting to get offended by this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go breaking his heart. Or yours, for that matter. It pains me to say but I care about both of you very much and I don’t see this going anywhere good.”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was her opinion of your romantic tendencies — or lack thereof — that bad that she couldn’t even recommend you to her friend? You felt like a chastised child whose mom told you you couldn’t get the toy you wanted. Despite being well aware that you weren’t the most committed when it came to relationships, you still felt like she was going overboard. Just because nothing had stuck so far didn’t mean it wouldn’t now—she was acting like you went around playing with people’s feelings for fun.

“Jesus, this is my second time seeing him. I just wanna see what his deal is. I’m not breaking anyone’s heart, okay?” 

The choir conductor had called out for everyone to gather on stage then, and that was the end of that conversation. You still remember how funny of a thing it was, seeing Sunghoon in his nice shirt and trousers, his hair falling into his eyes, singing diligently with the choir, when just the night before he had been playing beer pong dressed as Cowboy Ken. In this new light, you understood why Minjeong was so adamant about him not being your usual type, and why the grandmas were fussing over him. You hadn’t known what had pushed you to invite yourself to this rehearsal, and even then as you sat there, you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you couldn’t stop smiling as you watched Sunghoon sing. 

Time made things clearer, starting with that afternoon at the beach. The salt in the air that day had clouded your thoughts, covered them with a thin layer so that your usual reluctance to share anything remotely personal had dimmed. Or maybe it had had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the boy sitting next to you on the sand, the way words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think about them and were only met with understanding and empathy on his part. For once, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself, to adapt your words and actions to the person in front of you. It was something you didn’t know was possible with a near stranger—perhaps because Sunghoon felt nothing like one.

He made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time; things you had been craving to feel, needed almost as much as oxygen. Being with him felt like breathing again. But you had been underwater so long, being on land again felt foreign, scary, and you couldn’t help but dive back into safe waters, coming up for air once in a while.

Whether he had intended to or not, Sunghoon had started to scratch at your surface, until he’d burrowed a small hole—shallow, but enough for cracks to appear, cracks you were quick to put back together as best as you could.

So when his gaze was too tender, his touches too gentle, you bristled. You went away, because you were afraid of what might happen if you stayed. The more you wanted to give him, the less you gave him anything at all. Your own desire overwhelmed you. His letterman jacket was warm around your shoulders, you proudly walked around with the four letters of his last name on your back, but you couldn’t get out of your mind how cold it would be if it was one day ripped away from you. 

You thought of Heeseung, how disillusioned you had been when you thought you had finally met someone who would love you the way you had always yearned to be, only for him to toss you away when you started asking for too much. You thought of your friends in middle school, how it seemed that no friendship could be more wonderful until you overheard them talking about you at a sleepover, about how clingy you were. You thought of your parents, how they had only bestowed kind words upon you when you performed well in your role of perfect daughter, of academically gifted child. How they hadn’t even glanced at any of the drawings you’d done of the four of you, mother, father, son and daughter holding hands with a bright yellow sun in the corner of the sky. How they had pushed you away from their bed when you seeked some comfort after a terrible nightmare. How they had never bothered to hide their disappointment when you came home from school with anything less than an A. How they had shunned your brother for not going down the path they had envisioned for him, how hard you had to fight to make them accept yours was not a worthless one.

Even your best friend seemed to think you were unable to receive affection of the likes of Sunghoon’s—but what you were afraid of was that he wouldn’t handle the amount of affection you knew you were able to give. In a way, that was what had drawn you to Sunghoon in the first place—from the moment you’d met him, you had been able to tell there was something of you in him. It seemed to you he had a heart that was overflowing with love, love to give, love to spare on whoever would have it. In his words, you were him. Nevertheless, your fear of getting hurt overrode your desire to feel Sunghoon’s love, and you didn’t know whether you would be able to revert to your nature after having spent so much time perfecting your new facade.

You knew what it was like to be cold. And so you prematurely braced yourself for it by pushing away Sunghoon’s warmth. If it was going to happen at some point, like Minjeong had hinted it would, might as well get used to it, right?

Except the cold never came. Sunghoon kept on burning relentlessly, no matter how much wood you fed his fire with—you could cling to him for nights on end or ignore his texts for days, without fail, he’d welcome you with his usual, unwavering warmth. He allowed you to bask in it, to momentarily let down your defenses. But something always happened to make you raise them back up—Minjeong would eye the two of you suspiciously, Heeseung would post on Instagram (Is one of the girls on slide five his new fling? Are they serious and it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, it’s that he didn’t want one with me?), or your mom would text you to ask you whether everything was okay.

Yet increasingly, you suspected there was something behind Sunghoon’s warmth, something you had missed, something that was tricking you. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, yes; in public, a knowing look from you was enough to have his face turn bright red, and in private, one simple touch had his chest heaving, yes; he expressed disappointment every time you turned him down for a hang-out. Your attachment to him grew, and it became harder to put what the two of you had into words.

It wasn’t just sex—it couldn’t be. It ran deeper than that. You knew what relationships that consisted of just sex were like, and this wasn’t that, it was too good, too intimate to be just that. But you weren’t a couple, that much was clear. Only four other people were aware something was even going on, your brother not included, and you acted as regular friends in front of everyone. Jake had insisted you didn’t fool around with another member of his hockey team because his relationship with Heeseung had already deteriorated enough, he didn’t need to be on weird terms with anyone else on your behalf, so you were not keen on letting him know about what you got up to with Sunghoon. Anyway, even if everyone on earth was in on your shenanigans, you and Sunghoon hadn’t convened on what it all meant. Who knew what was going on in his head? You were no stranger to how deceitful men could be when they were after certain bodily pleasures. Unless Sunghoon said it in so many words, multiple times, you would not be a hundred percent sure he wasn’t only looking to get laid, or wanted someone to act like his girlfriend without the label and the obligations that came with it.

Because you basically were acting like his girlfriend, and he like your boyfriend. You always went to each other. Always, only each other. Whether he needed a second opinion on an outfit, you needed a rant session about your dissertation, either of you a really good orgasm, it was each other you went to.

You waited for him to initiate a conversation about the status of your relationship like one waits for church bells to ring at the turn of the hour—you knew it was coming, but the sound might be too much to bear. And the longer you had to wait, the more you dreaded it. Because how would you react when the time came? You didn’t trust yourself not to run away; neither did Minjeong.

The cold hadn’t come yet. You couldn’t let yourself feel the warmth unreservedly. It was all unpleasantly lukewarm.

Then you went home for a weekend.

It was a good friend from school’s birthday, and despite having spent a lot of time with Sunghoon at the expense of studying, you had done well this semester and thought you deserved a break. After having been away for so long, you had started to underestimate the power of your need for your parents’ approval over you. One small instance that your brother and many other people would’ve brushed off easily was enough to set you off—that same cold look of disappointment when you decided to be honest and told them one of your courses was deadly boring all while being unnecessarily complicated and you had received a low B-grade in it. They barely spoke to you for the rest of the evening.

Exams were a mere few weeks away when you got back. You buried yourself in work, forgot everything and everyone else, even Sunghoon, even yourself.

The cold hadn’t come yet, so you sought it out for yourself.

At the same time, you hadn’t indulged in enough introspection to realize how frustrated you had been at Sunghoon for not trying to create defined boundaries around your relationship. You were unable to do it yourself, you unrealistically wanted him to do the work for the both of you, you got upset when he didn’t. What you were able to do was make up reasons why he wasn’t giving you the what are we talk—he doesn’t like you that much, he just wants sex, he’s settling for you until he finds the next best thing, the real thing. This wasn’t leading anywhere, so you cut it off before he could.

You set foot in the library at seven thirty a.m. on a Monday and every following day of that week, then the next, then the next. He managed to pull you out every now and then—you weren’t that strong against his big pleading eyes, his soft messy hair, his warm hands that entirely covered yours. 

Oftentimes, you were too tired at the end of a long library day to have sex. Sunghoon never held it against you—he seemed more than happy to cook you dinner, let you fall asleep halfway during a movie you had chosen, and cuddle all night long. But your body burned with resentment at his mere presence in your bed, in your home, in your text messages. Who was he to stop you from studying, from achieving your goals, to distract you from that top grade just so he could get off? Even your friends and brother weren’t trying so hard to make you take breaks. The worry that furrowed his eyebrows, which you used to want to see fade away with a caress of your thumb, now infuriated you to no end, it seemed — to you — put-on. He kissed your neck and you wanted to push him away instead of melt into him like you had before.

It was his turn to leave for a weekend for an out-of-town hockey game, and you convinced yourself his absence came as a relief. But on the Sunday evening they got back, as you came out of the library, you spotted your brother waiting right outside of the building.

“Why is it so hard to reach you?” he said when he saw you in lieu of a greeting. “What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even use it? I called you, like, five times.” “It was on airplane mode.” He rolled his eyes so hard, you could almost hear them moving beneath their lids. “What have you done to Sunghoon?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Sunghoon? What about him?” you asked, chest constricting at the mere thought of him and at the implication that something had happened to him, even if you were the cause. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was clear the truth had been revealed to Jake, and for some reason, it didn’t surprise you. You knew they roomed together and assumed Sunghoon must’ve told him. You tried your best to take it in stride. “I thought we said the hockey team was off-limits after Heeseung,” he said sternly. “Also, Sunghoon, of all people?” he adds before you can say anything. “That’s like, my bro. And he’s the nicest guy ever. Not the perfect pick for one of your victims, I must say-” “Oh, please, he’s not a victim. He’s a consenting adult.” “Then why is he so upset over you spending more time studying than with him?” “That’s the male ego for you, Jakey.” Your brother sighed deeply. “He’s really hurt, Y/N. If you were going to reject him, you could’ve done it nicely.”

You frowned. “Who said anything about rejecting him?”

“You’ve shut him out. You’ve shut all of us out.” Jake was staring at you, trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze on the ground and kicked non-existent pebbles around, hands hiding in your coat pockets. “You might not have meant it as one, but he took it as a rejection.”

You scoff. “There was nothing to reject. It’s not like we’re actually together.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me anything was going on, by the way.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“It is, ‘cause it concerns my sister and my best friend.”

“He’s your best friend?” you echo, a teasing smile on your lips. He rolls his eyes again.

“God, maybe you guys aren’t so bad together after all. But Y/N—I’m serious. You need to do something.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Because you’re the one who’s been fucking around.”

Ouch. “You’ve known about this whole thing for what, two days, and you’re already blaming me for the fact that it’s not going perfectly? How little do you think of me?”

“I don’t think little of you, Y/N, I just know you have a track record of not being serious about relationships.”

Your body tensed up. Maybe it had been a particularly long day. Maybe it had been a long time coming. Tears well up in your eyes—a sight you’ve not let your brother see in many, many years.

“You know what, fuck this, Jake. I’m stressed enough as it is. I’ve done my best with what I have, and you don’t get to pin this on me. As if I was the only person in that relationship. If Sunghoon has a problem, he can take it up with me directly.”

You walked away. Jake called after you once, and when you didn’t come back, caught up with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t wanna upset you. I just-I hate seeing him hurt, you know? And you too.”

“I’m glad my feelings are of some importance to you.”

“Of course they are,” Jake said, too concerned to detect the sarcasm in your words. “And you’re right, I’ve only heard Sunghoon’s side of the story. But it really sounded like-”

“Listen, Jakey, I really don’t wanna do this right now. Let’s talk about it when exams are over. I can’t have anything else taking up mental space. I mixed up my Greek third declension endings earlier.”

“God forbid.”

After some arguing, Jake let you off the hook—“Just for now,” he said. You’d get him to recount his and Sunghoon’s conversation in excruciating detail later.

You come out of an evening of contemplation resenting Sunghoon for bitching about you to your brother, of all people. As if he had been begging on his hands and knees for your devotion, as if you had been cool-headed and detached and not thinking he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend any second now every time you spent time together. You told yourself you were well and truly done with him for the time being. If there was anything to salvage, that was future you’s problem.

But late on Thursday evening, Jay sent you a voice message, something he only did when he was gravely drunk, shouting over loud chatter and rap music that Sunghoon hadn’t shown up to a party and was apparently still practicing. You’d caught wind of their loss at the game, and even though your heart had swollen with concern for Sunghoon, very well aware of how important winning was to him, you’d managed to squash it down. You had bigger fish to fry, namely, an Italian written exam that made up 75% of your overall grade for that course. But after ten minutes of re-reading the same three lines of an article from Republicca, you couldn’t get the image of Sunghoon skirting endlessly around the ice rink and potentially hurting himself out of your head. You told yourself you only had this one exam left and plenty of time to revise for it, packed up your things and headed for the rink.

It was past eleven p.m. when you got there. The rest is history. 

Your grievances came out in an ugly way, but Sunghoon’s refusal to listen to you got the best of your nerves, and although you really did feel that your worry was more genuine than his, you didn’t truly believe that all he wanted from you was sex—at least, you hoped it wasn’t. It was the first time you ever saw any sort of negative emotion on Sunghoon’s handsome features, be it anger, sadness or pain. It tugged at your heartstrings, made you want to wrap him in your arms and get him away from whatever it was that tugged his eyebrows into a frown—even if that was you.

Now, as if the water has inched up your ankles and frozen over, your feet stay planted on the ice for a while after he’s stormed off. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a hot, salty teardrop falls on your lips.

Your feet regain control of themselves, and they seem to move of their own accord as they guide you right in front of Sunghoon’s dorm room. You’re barely conscious as your knuckles rasp against the door, and the tears that had fallen back behind your eyes spill out once more as soon as your eyes meet his. He’s just come out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his hips, another one that he uses to dry his hair. His movements stop when he realizes who’s standing at his door, mouth falling slightly agape, chest visibly rising and falling. He’s so beautiful, you feel your heart breaking all over again.

Sobs pour uncharacteristically out of you, so much so that you have to hide your face behind your eyes. He ushers you in, holds you tight as everything flows out, the stress, the resentment, the loneliness, the longing. How could he be so close yet so far away this whole time? Did he want those miles of distance between you, or had you forced them upon him?

Sunghoon smoothes your hair down and shushes you, telling you it’s okay and that he’s here, voice strangled as if he’s on the verge of crying, too. A part of you still feels angry towards him, but the bigger part of you knows only he can give you the comfort you need.

“I missed you,” you say when you’ve calmed down partly. You only realize how true those words are once you’ve spoken them. You’ve missed waking up next to him, watching trashy reality TV together, taking coffee breaks that lasted too long in-between study sessions. You’ve missed the scent of his hair, the scent of his skin, you’ve missed watching the way his back muscles shift at the slightest of movements, feeling the weight of his head as he lay on your chest. All for a bunch of As you would’ve gotten without exerting yourself so much anyway.

“I missed you too, baby. Where did you go?” Just like that, you break down again, and he dissolves into apologies. “You’re here now, it’s all that matters,” he whispers against your hair.

“You didn’t see them, Hoon. You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” you say, struggling to speak, unsure you’re even making any sense but unable to stop. “I got As in everything, I worked so hard. Just one B, one week where I had four things due at the same time. Their faces, Hoon, like they were thinking, what was the point of letting me do this degree if I wasn’t even going to excel in it?”

“But you do excel in it, Y/N. You’re amazing at what you do. And even if you weren’t, you love it, and that’s what matters the most.”

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

“I can’t, Hoon,” you say, voice trembling. “I just can’t. I need them to be proud of me.”

“Isn’t it enough to be proud of yourself?”

“I wish it was.”

“Does it help if I tell you how proud I am of you and of how hard you’ve worked?”

He doesn’t see it, your face is still hidden in the crook of his shoulder, but a small smile makes its way to your lips. “A bit.”

“Then I’ll tell you everyday until you don’t need their approval anymore. They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They don’t even see what an amazing, beautiful, smart daughter they have. Or her sort-of-okay brother.” You laugh, and so does he. Sunghoon’s words and soothing touch against your back already alleviate the weight on your heart. “But I see it.”

You lift your head to look at Sunghoon. His eyes are glassy. “You see how amazing, beautiful and smart Jake is?”

He laughs again as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, exactly.” The way he looks at you makes you wish you could go back to the day you met him and right all of your wrongs. No more hiding or running away. You only want to stay under that gaze of his. But sadness soon replaces the joy in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. This has never been just about sex for me. Not even for a second.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

He frowns like a student in an advanced math class who’s just been asked what three plus three is—isn’t it obvious?

“I love you.”

Your eyes dart between his as if searching for any trace of deceit there. Of course, you don’t find any—because there hasn’t been any since the start. You’d let your own fears invent things that weren’t there. Your lips tremble and you find yourself bawling on his shoulder once more, your tears like a well that digs deeper and deeper so as to never run out of water.

“I hope these are good tears,” Sunghoon says light-heartedly, but you can detect the nervousness behind his words. You nod your head vigorously, willing yourself to say something back, but your tears overflow, make your breath hitch.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you manage in between sobs.

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you wanted to hear,” he explains.

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

“I didn’t know. I thought I was being obvious enough.”

“You probably were. I was the one who couldn’t see it,” you admit.

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, a sound of relief. “I’ve wanted you like that since the start.”

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

You lift your head again and when your eyes meet Sunghoon’s, it feels like coming out of your hiding place hours after the round of hide-and-seek was over. He hadn’t forgotten to come and find you. He was waiting for you to reveal yourself.

Which goes against the rules of hide-and-seek, but you don’t blame him.

You smile; he smiles, deep dimples carving crescents into his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

You hadn’t realized how cold your hands were until Sunghoon found them.

--

Everything after that was a blurry mess of tangled limbs, warm kisses, happy tears and relieved laughter.

Your touch had always been intoxicating, but Sunghoon was particularly sensitive to it that night. The mix of not having felt you close in weeks and the heightened emotions driven by your confessions made his skin tingle everywhere it came in contact with yours. He’d never slept so little without regretting it in the morning.

It goes without saying that most of the night was not spent talking, but you still had things you needed to discuss. The two of you laid out all of your fears, and Sunghoon was immensely relieved to finally get a glimpse into that mind of yours. He made you promise to always tell him what was going on, and he promised you you’d never be too much for him. Always just right.

Now, he gets to wait outside of your exam hall with your favorite flowers in hand, to put his arm around your shoulders during movie nights instead of holding your hand beneath the blanket, to kiss you over the barrier at the end of a hockey game he won. Heeseung’s narrowed eyes at the sight of the two of you is an added bonus.

You text him that you’ll hang around the locker rooms after the game so that you can head to the party together. The end of December is nearing and you can’t wait for the new year, for twelve whole months of not hiding your feelings for Sunghoon from anyone, not even from yourself, least of all from him. At least, that’s what you told him in a sappy, drunken voice message at two a.m. the previous night when the girls made you drink a bottle of prosecco to yourself—their way of congratulating you for an arduous but successful exam period.

He steps out of the locker rooms with Jake and Jay. You’ve never looked quite as pretty, face lighting up as you spot the three of them, his jersey on your shoulders. You’d worn it during your last exam—“I thought it might bring me luck to wear a pretty boy’s name on my back,” you’d told him, to which he’d replied that it was good practice for when you actually took his last name. You’d looked away, fighting a smile.

Now your smile is full-blown as you look at him, but the downside of being an official couple is that Jake has now more material to tease the both of you with.

“Oh my God, you waited for me, what a sweet sister I have been blessed with!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as he barrels towards you.

“Fuck off, Sim,” you say but accept his hug nonetheless. “Nice game.”

“I know.” He pulls away and ruffles your hair. Jay nods at you like you’re someone he shared a class with back in second year and not his friend of almost three years.

As if on cue, just as Sunghoon reaches you and envelops you in a hug, Jake turns around and yells loud enough for all the players spilling out of the locker rooms, “And don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” you yell back, and he smiles proudly. Sunghoon had never thought the day would come where you’d initiate a kiss in a room full of people—he’s on cloud nine when you take his head in your hands and press your lips to his, murmuring praises about how well he played.

“It was all for you, baby,” he says, trying to appear cool even though a blush is creeping up his ears. 

“Not for the recruiter of the national team?” you asked with a smirk.

He smiles, shrugging. “Maybe a bit for him too. You’re the one I want to impress.”

“Consider me impressed.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

You head towards your friends, hands warm against each other.

--

In classic mysterious Jay fashion, he organizes a New Year’s Eve party that he can’t attend himself.

He’s on holiday in some exotic country halfway across the world with his family, but he’s offered up their house for a celebration and tasked Jake with making sure no one trashes anything.

The party started three hours ago, and you’re sure it’s in full swing by now—you’re sure everyone is having a jolly old time, getting drunk enough to welcome the new year with a hangover, searching the crowds of people for the person they’ll want to kiss at midnight. You’re sure that people are having so much fun that whoever notices your and Sunghoon’s absence might think you’re missing out.

And maybe you are—but there’s nowhere you’d rather be than where you are now, straddling your boyfriend’s lap in the backseat of his car. He’s a little bit tipsy, you’re a little bit tipsy, it’s obvious in the way you kiss each other, messy, impatient, interspersed with giggles and with perhaps too much tongue. Your hands are not much more polite, harshly grabbing at his hair just the way you know he likes it, and neither are his, having snuck their way underneath your black satin dress long ago already.

When Sunghoon pulled you away from the party, you’d appropriately exclaimed, “But the party?”, to which he replied, “Fuck the party.” It wasn’t like him to curse, or to have anything but a bashful smile on his lips, like a guilty dog who’d been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t, even though he was just standing there, so when you see his stoney expression, you think something serious must’ve happened.

The something serious turned out to be “that guy who was touching your shoulder.”

Clearly, it’d take Sunghoon a little bit more time to be entirely secure in your relationship. In the meantime, you didn’t mind letting him fuck his jealousy away.

Although he’d been the one to whisk you away, you’re the one who finds yourself begging for him to speed things up. Your flimsy thong does absolutely nothing, so you’re basically grinding yourself bare against his clothed erection—and it’s not like the fabric of his suit trousers is very thick, either. A girl can only put up with so much dry humping before having her boyfriend’s dick inside of her goes from being a want to a need.

“Need you, Hoon,” you coo against the shell of his ear. A few words usually do the trick, but Sunghoon has other plans tonight.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

“I’m right here,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze of your ass.

“You know what I mean,” you say, practically whining.

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

You pull away and, looking at him directly, say, “God, Sunghoon. I want you to fuck me.” His shit-eating grin simultaneously makes you roll your eyes and goes straight to your core.

“That I can do.”

He keeps one hand on your ass as he loosens his tie first, then undoes his belt and trouser buttons. His slacks and underwear pool around his ankles, and all he needs to do is hike your dress up around your hips and push your thong to the side. You wrap a hand around his dick, but your mind is too hazy to do much with it—he’s started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, the pressure and speed as perfect as it always is. You let your forehead fall against his shoulders and moan unabashedly, thankful he decided to park the car far enough away from the house.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?”

“I love it, Hoon.”

He hums his approval. “You’re so perfect. So perfect and so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You start to say “yes,” but you interrupt yourself with a gasp. You hold onto Sunghoon’s arm, feel his muscles move under your palm as he slips two fingers inside of you without warning. “Please,” you choke out, a tight knot already forming in your stomach.

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

He smiles as if endeared, but his words couldn’t be more different. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going off with some random guy the one minute I was somewhere else.”

“He’s just-fuck, Hoon, he’s just a mutual friend of Jay and I. Fuck, right there, baby.” Forming coherent sentences when Sunghoon’s fingers flick against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again is no easy task, but you need to defend yourself.

“Right there?” he echoes, voice a whisper against your ear. When you nod, eyes shut tight, he slips his fingers out. You look at him, betrayed. “That’s too bad. Why don’t you ask him to touch you right there, hm?”

You don’t know how much of his jealousy is put-on to get you to beg and how much of it is real. You make a mental note to have a conversation with him about this later—right now, you don’t mind playing along if it means your boyfriend will deign to fuck you. You know he wants to, he’s just making you work harder.

You move your hand up and down along his dick, brush his reddening tip with your palm every now and then. “He couldn’t touch me like you, Hoon.” You lean in and trail kisses along his neck, his jawline, his ears. “Can’t fuck me like you, either.”

With exams, hockey matches and any other responsibilities out of the way for winter break, the two of you had had an obscene amount of sex in the past couple of weeks. You’d done other things, of course, namely having much-needed conversations with each other, your friends, your families. Sunghoon’s mother was overjoyed at the news, glad her “duckling had finally met someone” — her words — and his sister kept stealing his phone from him to talk to you when you were on FaceTime. You and Jake had gone home for two days for Christmas, and although Jake had needed to pep talk you into it for over an hour, you managed to tell them that you wouldn’t stand for being belittled for your life choices anymore.

But in-between these conversations, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’ve grown more comfortable with each passing day, both of you bolder in vocalizing what you want and how you feel. And so, you quickly found out that your Sunghoon, your shy, sweet Sunghoon, got off like nothing else on salacious words. In line with his possessiveness, he loved hearing about how he and only he could do these things to you; in line with your need for validation, you could practically come from hearing his praises alone.

“That’s right, baby.” Like the gentleman he is, he fishes out the condom wrapper he had gotten ready from his trouser pocket, tears it open with his mouth and rolls the condom on with one hand, his other one still preoccupied with you. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his sweet tone worlds away from his previous teasing, almost cocky one. He grabs your hips, guides you closer to him and lines your entrance with the tip of his dick. He lets you go at your own pace, rubs your thighs soothingly as you sink down onto him slowly and adjust to his size. You throw your head back, mind hazy with pleasure as you move your hips back-and-forth against him.

“You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” His words make you pick up your pace, and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grabbing at his hair and sides of your faces pressed against each other as you start lifting your hips and sinking back down. Sunghoon’s hands hold your ass tightly, guiding you up and down. It’s hot in the car; sweat runs down your hairline and your back, air is running low, the windows are fogging up, but it only adds to the dizzying bliss growing in you. Even the seatbelt receiver digging into your knee doesn’t bother you.

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

Your hours of studying everyday means your thighs aren’t the strongest—good thing for you that your boyfriend has enough stamina and strength for the both of you. As soon as he feels you tiring, your rhythm becoming slower and more irregular, he picks up your slack. One hand on your back, one arm around your waist, he presses you close to him, his hold on you so tight you can barely move. He bucks his hips harshly into yours, faster and faster, making you cry out with every brush of his tip against that spot deep inside of you. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as your moans grow higher and louder, until the tension in your stomach hits its apex and unravels. A gasp leaves your throat as you come around him, but he’s unrelenting, the overstimulation quickly making tears form in your eyes. Strings of curses and praises of how perfect you are spill out of Sunghoon’s mouth disorderly as he reaches his own end.

Together, you take your time catching your breath, his fingers roaming your back while you trail soft kisses all over his face and neck. “My pretty baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart swell with so much affection for him that you press your lips to his, shutting him up in case he says something that actually has you exploding.

You wish you could spend some more time just the two of you before returning to the party, but when you check your phone, it’s already five minutes to midnight—he puts his clothes back on as you fix your hair in a rush, Sunghoon helping you wipe away traces of mascara under your eyes, and together, run back to the living room where everyone has gathered. You find Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jake, who has Jay on FaceTime. It’s only five p.m. where he is.

Everyone counts down from ten together. The first thing you do in the new year is kiss Park Sunghoon—and you’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, too.

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