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jetii · 2 months ago

Text

Lessons of the Heart

Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Reader / Crosshair x Teacher!Reader

Words: 15,738

Tags/Warnings: fluff, so much fluff, strangers to lovers, soft!Crosshair, grumpy/sunshine dynamic, awkward flirting, mutual pining, kissing/making out, Crosshair's anxiety, reader has long-ish hair, Tech mentioned briefly

Summary: Over a year after settling on Pabu, Crosshair is still struggling to adapt to life without having something to fight, or fight for. When Omega comes home with a bad grade, he jumps at the chance to help. He doesn't expect to become so invested, and he certainly doesn't expect to fall for his sister's teacher.

A/N: This one got away from me! But since the poll indicated I should keep this all one part, here you go. I really enjoyed writing Crosshair's perspective and all the little sibling moments in here.

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"Again, Omega? We talked about this."

Crosshair stops dead in his tracks, one boot in front of the other, and stares straight ahead. The basket of dirty clothes in his grip hangs limp by his side as he stands in the hallway, listening. Hunter and Omega are in the kitchen, the latter having just gotten back from another day at school, and they’re clearly talking about something serious.

Crosshair doesn't dare to breathe too loud in case he misses a single word. It's hard not to notice how Hunter's voice drops low when he speaks, trying not to be overheard by someone. By someone like Crosshair.

"I know, Hunter," she groans. He can hear the sound of something hit the counter, likely a datapad, and Omega shifts on her stool. "I tried on this one, I promise."

Hunter hums in a tone that makes it clear he's not quite believing her, and Crosshair's eyebrows raise a little in curiosity.

"Let me see, please."

"Hunter—"

"Omega."

She huffs, but a few seconds later, the datapad slides across the counter with a quiet squeak, and Omega's chair scrapes across the floor as she sits back down. "There. Happy?"

"Thank you." There's a pause, and Crosshair can only imagine the face Hunter is making as he reads whatever it is that Omega is showing him. His voice is stern, a tone that Crosshair's come to know as the sergeant, not the brother. "What is this?"

"I told you," she whines.

"She gave you a 50%?" Hunter's voice raises slightly. "Why would she do that?"

Omega scoffs. She's getting better at that. It almost sounds natural now.

Crosshair peeks around the corner, and sure enough, Hunter has the datapad in his hands, reading over whatever report the teacher sent back. Omega sits next to him, her shoulders slumped, arms crossed, and she's not meeting his gaze. Her backpack sits unzipped, its contents strewn out across the countertop and the stool where she usually sits.

He knows he shouldn't eavesdrop, but he's been doing it for so long he's not sure how to stop. And besides, the look on Hunter's face is one he doesn't like.

They'd all known going into this that Omega wasn't going to have an easy time at school. She excelled far beyond her peers in most subjects — math, history, science, languages, you name it — but there were two subjects where her intelligence failed her. Art, for one, because it was hard to grasp the concept of drawing something when she had no frame of reference. And then, of course, there was literature.

It's not her fault, and Hunter's well aware of it. Her education prior to the Batch adopting her was entirely focused on being the best lab assistant a Kaminoan could ever want. Over time, she soaked up anything they would teach her. Strategy, engineering, politics, even some basic medical training — Omega could do it all. But, as it turned out, there was a pretty big part of her education that she was severely lacking in, and it was starting to show.

Out of the three brothers, Crosshair was the only one who actually made a habit out of reading, though he'd never admit it to anyone. So he tried his best to teach Omega the concepts that her teacher was trying to instill in her, but sometimes it was difficult.

Literature was, by nature, subjective. It's always up for debate, and Crosshair found himself constantly questioning himself while helping Omega with her assignments. It usually ended with both of them frustrated, and Hunter or Wrecker stepping in to mediate the situation.

But still, Omega loved her classes, even if they were difficult. And Crosshair would never say it out loud, but he enjoyed spending time with her and helping her learn, even if it wasn't always the easiest.

It seemed, though, that her teacher didn't agree with his methods.

Hunter looks up from the datapad and places it on the counter. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reaches across to pat Omega's shoulder. "It's okay. We can work with this."

She shrugs him off and hops down from the stool, gathering her things and stuffing them into her bag. When she tries to reach for the datapad, Hunter snatches it up and holds it out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Hunter."

"No. We're going to talk about this, Omega."

"There's nothing to talk about," she mutters, trying again and failing to grab the datapad.

Crosshair takes that as his cue. He steps into the kitchen and drops the basket of laundry onto the ground by his feet, the force of the landing enough to get their attention.

"Oh, good," Hunter says, looking at Crosshair. "You're home."

"Yep." Crosshair pops the 'p' and folds his arms, leaning back against the wall. He meets Omega's eyes for a moment, and the look on her face is like a punch to the gut. She looks defeated, and it's not a look that suits her.

He hates seeing her upset, especially over something so trivial. It's a report, and not even a very important one. It's not like her grades in the other classes were suffering. She was passing every single one of them with flying colors. It's just this one assignment, this one class, this one teacher who seems hellbent on making her feel bad about herself.

Crosshair can feel the rage bubbling under the surface. How dare her teacher give her a score that low, and why? Because of his help? That was his job, and he was doing it.

"What's going on?" Crosshair asks. He's still staring at Omega, trying to get her to look up at him, to meet his gaze, but she's not taking the bait. She's got her arms folded, her shoulders tense, and her lower lip juts out as she pouts at Hunter.

"I told her we'd talk about it, and she doesn't want to." Hunter sets the datapad back down, sliding it across the counter.

Crosshair picks it up, glancing at the words on the screen before scrolling through the report. It's an analysis, one he's read a million times. He doesn't bother skimming it, because he already knows exactly what she wrote. It's a decent summary of the text, and her thoughts and opinions are written plainly and with an obvious understanding of what the author meant. It's not her fault her teacher wanted her to interpret the text the way a typical thirteen-year-old might, but that wasn't who Omega was.

He glances back up at Hunter. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Well, her teacher doesn't seem to agree with her analysis," Hunter says. He nods at the datapad in Crosshair's hand. "The comments."

Crosshair finds the section in question and reads over the notes. It's a lot of the same, just worded a bit differently, but one comment sticks out among the rest.

Please try to stick to the original meaning of the text, Omega. You did well explaining how your interpretation differed from the traditional meaning, but try to focus on the actual story.

It's the most condescending, ridiculous thing Crosshair has ever read, and he has to keep himself from throwing the datapad at the wall. He has to remind himself that doing that would only make Omega feel worse, and he doesn't want to upset her.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and hands the datapad back to her.

"This is stupid," he says, and he can see Hunter's eye twitch at his choice of words. "I read the text. I know what it means, and you know what it means. What, are you supposed to go through the entire thing and find the most cliche, obvious way of reading it?"

"No," Omega mumbles.

"Right," he agrees. "So then why is she giving you a low grade for your own thoughts and opinions?"

Omega shrugs. She's frowning, staring down at the datapad like it personally offended her.

And Crosshair knows that feeling, intimately. It's the same way he'd stare at the training room floor whenever a drill sergeant would call him a failure. It grates on his nerves, and he's half-tempted to find the teacher's home address and tell her just how wrong she is.

"But I'm doing it wrong," Omega says, her voice small and defeated.

Hunter is glaring at him now, but Crosshair can't find it in him to care.

"No, you're not," Crosshair insists, and he takes a seat beside her at the counter. "You did your research. You did everything you were supposed to, and you wrote a report about what you think it meant. What's wrong with that?"

Omega shrugs again, and he can see her hands balling up into fists.

The sight alone is enough to set him on edge. His entire body feels like a coiled spring, his muscles tense and ready to go. He hates seeing her like this. She's a bright kid, always smiling and happy, and to see her so down on herself makes him feel ill, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she's failed somehow.

Crosshair doesn't know why the teacher doesn't understand that, doesn't appreciate how amazing it is that a girl her age is even capable of writing a paper like this. Maybe, somewhere deep down, the teacher does get it. Maybe she's just pushing her own agenda. It wouldn't surprise Crosshair in the slightest, and the more he thinks about it, the more annoyed he gets.

"Maybe I should comm her," Hunter says, interrupting his train of thought.

Crosshair snaps his head around, glaring daggers at his brother. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't comm her." He pushes himself away from the counter and stands. "I'll handle this."

Hunter stares at him, one eyebrow raised, clearly confused. "Handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna talk to her."

"Cross," Hunter says, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Crosshair doesn't stick around long enough to hear the end of it. He's already halfway out the door, pulling his jacket off the hook, and slamming the door shut behind him.

Crosshair is pissed.

He doesn't often get angry. Annoyed, frustrated, irritated, yes. All those are familiar. But angry? Angry is not something he deals with. He can't stand it, the way his chest feels like it's about to explode, the way his heart rate picks up and his stomach feels sick. Anger makes him feel out of control, and the last thing he wants is to lose the little self-control he does have.

But now?

Now, he's angry.

Omega doesn't deserve to be treated like this. She doesn't deserve the way her teacher is talking to her, telling her she's doing something wrong when she isn't. If anything, the teacher should be grateful that Omega is even bothering to read the texts in the first place, that she's putting in the effort to analyze the meanings behind them.

He's so caught up in his own thoughts, he barely realizes how far he's gone. It's only when he spots the school, the tall building looming in the distance, does he realize he's halfway across town, and the sun is starting to dip below the horizon.

He slows his pace, taking a moment to catch his breath, and glances around. He's only been here a few times, just long enough to drop Omega off at the start of the day or pick her up after. He's never actually been inside, never even met a single one of her teachers, and he has no idea where her classroom even is.

A sign points him towards the front entrance, and he follows it. There's a handful of other parents waiting around the main entrance, all of them talking and laughing and joking with one another. A few of them glance his way, watching him curiously as he approaches the doors.

He ignores them, slipping inside and letting the doors close behind him. The hallways are quiet, and the sound of his boots against the tile echoes throughout the empty halls. He's not entirely sure where he's going, but he figures it can't be that hard to find her classroom.

It isn't.

It takes him less than a minute to locate her name, next to a door decorated with bright colors and images of what he assumes are the characters from a few of the stories they've read. He doesn't stop to admire the decorations, though. He doesn't stop at all, really. He pushes the door open and walks right inside, his eyes scanning the room.

The rows of chairs and desks are empty, but the one near the holoboard at the front of the room is occupied. There's a human woman sitting there, head bowed over a desk as she writes, and Crosshair strides up to her without hesitation.

"I want to talk about the report you gave Omega," he says, his voice tight, barely able to contain his anger. The woman looks up, clearly startled, and blinks owlishly at him.

The anger coursing through his veins suddenly tempers as he locks eyes with you, and he finds himself at a loss for words.

You're not what he was expecting, not in the slightest. He'd expected someone older, a woman with graying hair and crow's feet, maybe, one who's lived enough years to become old and jaded. Not this. Not you.

Your eyes are wide and bright, and the expression on your face is nothing short of adorable. He's not sure where that word came from, thrust to the forefront of his consciousness with the force of a speeder, but he can't deny that it's accurate. Your hair is tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands hanging over your face, and there's a small, pink stylus stuck behind your ear. Your lips are slightly parted, a pretty shade of pink that almost matches the color of the pen, and he watches as they slowly form into a small 'o' as you process what's going on.

And then, just as quickly, your expression changes.

The adorableness falls away, and you straighten your posture, your brows furrowing and your lips pulling into a tight line.

"You must be Crosshair."

He frowns. "How did you—"

"She talks about you." You nod, glancing him up and down, and Crosshair has to fight the urge to shrink under your scrutiny. His mouth feels dry, and the sudden change in tone catches him off-guard. He was expecting defensiveness, maybe a little bit of anger. Instead, you sound...

Well, he can't really place it.

Crosshair nods, and he can feel his cheeks heat up. It's probably because he's angry. It has nothing to do with the way you're looking at him, the way your eyes rake over him, or the way your lips are curled up ever so slightly in a hint of a smile.

You clear your throat and gesture to the seat in front of you. He settles in it, not because you told him to, but because it seems like the polite thing to do. And because he wants to sit down.

Once he's seated, you fold your hands and place them on the desk, giving him your full attention. "I'm glad you're here."

That throws him. "You are?"

"Of course," you say, and the smile on your face is nothing short of dazzling. "I've been hoping to meet you for a while now. Omega speaks so highly of you, and I have to say, I was looking forward to finally meeting the man who's been helping her with her assignments."

And then, you do something Crosshair wasn't expecting. You extend your hand, offering a handshake.

He looks down at your hand, your fingers spread out, palm facing up. Your nails are painted a bright shade of pink, and there's a small smear of what looks like ink near the tip of your index finger. He glances up at your face, and you're smiling at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling a bit as you do.

His stomach does a weird flip, and his chest suddenly feels a lot warmer. He doesn't know what it is about your smile, your eyes, your voice, but it's...nice.

You're nice.

He doesn't take your hand.

You pull it away, but the smile doesn't leave your face. You don't seem offended or hurt, and you're still looking at him with an expression that can only be described as genuine kindness.

Crosshair swallows the lump in his throat. It's getting harder to stay angry, but he does his best to cling to his resolve.

"You graded her report wrong,” he hisses.

He expects you to get defensive, maybe even offended. After all, no one likes having their work challenged. But instead, you just sigh.

You look down at your desk, grabbing the stylus and twirling it between your fingers. The light reflects off the smooth surface, glinting off the tip of the tool, and the movement is almost hypnotic. He has to force himself to look away, to focus on your face.

For the first time since he barged into your classroom, he notices the tiredness in your eyes. It's subtle, and he doesn't think anyone else would notice, but the way your shoulders sag is a dead giveaway. You look exhausted, and Crosshair suddenly feels an odd pang of guilty for dropping in on you like this.

Your smile is tight when you look up at him again..

"I can explain my rationale, if you'd like," you say, and it's not a question. It's a statement.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed by that or not, but he nods regardless.

"Thank you."

You reach for a datapad laying haphazardly across your desk and tap away for a moment, before you hold it out for him to take. His fingers brush yours as he accepts it, and the touch sends a tingle up his arm. He tries not to show it, though, and busies himself by looking over the file as you speak.

"I know Omega has been struggling in my class, and I've done everything I can to make sure she has the support she needs. But, unfortunately, there's not a lot I can do when the curriculum is so..."

You pause, and he raises an eyebrow. "So what?"

"Well, it's not exactly tailored for her," you finish, and the small laugh you let out is strained. You shrug, a gesture that's supposed to be nonchalant, but he can see the tension in your shoulders.

He hums, nodding along as you continue to talk.

"I don't usually get students like Omega, you know? Kids who've already seen the world and have lived through so much more than their peers. And that's great, I mean, it's awesome. She's a brilliant kid, and she has such a great sense of herself, but I'm not equipped to handle a student like her."

Crosshair stops scrolling, his thumb hovering over the screen. He looks up at you, and you're staring back, chewing on your bottom lip.

He swallows the lump in his throat and nods. "So, what does that mean?"

"It means..." You trail off, letting out a sigh and shaking your head. You look away, turning to stare out the window behind you. The sun is setting, and the last rays of the day are reflecting off the buildings in the distance, bathing the room in an orange glow.

He watches the way the light illuminates your face, highlighting the curves and lines. It's not the first time he's found himself admiring the way someone looks, but it's the first time it's left him feeling like his heart's about to burst out of his chest.

It's not until you turn back to face him, the light fading, does he realize he's been holding his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was I saying?" you ask, and he's not sure if it's the lighting or his imagination, but he swears there's a faint flush creeping up your neck and cheeks.

"You were talking about the report," he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

You blink. "Oh, right. Of course." You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter, and Crosshair has to remind himself not to lean in. "I graded the report based on how she did against the curriculum."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, I know." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and Crosshair tracks the movement. "But it's how it works, unfortunately. We have a certain set of standards we have to abide by, and unfortunately, Omega's interpretation of the story was outside those standards."

"So? Her analysis is solid, and you know it," he says.

"It is," you agree, and the corner of your mouth twitches up into a half-smile. Your eyes are soft and full of understanding, and Crosshair has to look away.

"Her argument was well-researched, and her points were valid," you say, and it's with an apologetic tone. "But she also failed to follow directions."

Crosshair blinks.

That's not right.

"What?"

"She was asked to write a report on her thoughts and opinions on a classic work, and her interpretation of the story was excellent, but..."

"But what?" He knows he's being defensive, and he's not sure why, but the thought of you grading her unfairly, giving her a low score because of something that was his fault, makes his blood boil.

He takes a deep breath and leans back in his chair, folding his arms and forcing himself to relax.

You don't seem bothered by his attitude, though. In fact, you just smile at him.

"Well, she did a wonderful job of explaining her interpretation, but she failed to stick to the author's original meaning," you explain. "And while I understand why she was interpreting the text the way she was, and I'm happy she's able to do that, she was asked to write a paper specifically about the author's intended meaning."

Crosshair doesn't respond. He stares at you, his lips pressed together, trying his hardest to stay calm.

He has to admit, it makes sense. You're just doing your job, and the fact that you're even taking the time to explain it to him is a testament to how hard you're trying. But that doesn't make the situation any easier, and the disappointment in Omega’s voice when she'd shown him her report earlier that day is still fresh in his mind.

"It doesn't change the fact that she's brilliant," you say, interrupting his train of thought.

He snaps his head up, staring at you, and the expression on your face is almost...tender. You're not just saying it to placate him, or to try and get him to leave. No, you mean it. He didn't realize just how much you cared about his sister, and he's taken aback by how sincere you are.

"Omega is an incredibly intelligent young woman, and I am in awe of her every day." You lean forward, your elbows resting on the desk. You're smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in your eyes, and the way you speak, the words that spill out of your mouth, are genuine. "I can't begin to imagine the things she's been through, and I know that's not an excuse for how difficult I've been, but I'm sorry. I really am."

The anger he'd been holding onto melts away, replaced by a strange mixture of pride and confusion. He's proud that you care so much about Omega, and confused by how much it seems to affect him. He'd expected you to be stubborn, maybe even rude. But this? This isn't anything like the image he'd conjured up in his mind.

It's...

Nice.

"So, what now?" he asks.

"Well," you start, and the smile on your face turns mischievous, "you're welcome to challenge my grade. You can go to the school board, or we can go to the principal's office. You could even submit a formal complaint, or—"

"No," he interrupts, and his cheeks flush when he realizes how fast the word came out. He clears his throat, trying to compose himself, and says, "I meant, what do we do? To help her?"

"Oh." You blink, clearly surprised.

He's not sure why. Does he come off as the type of person who would file a formal complaint over a grade?

Probably, actually.

"Right," you say, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. "Well, there's not a lot we can do. This was her last chance to make up for her last test score, and I'm afraid she'll have to repeat the class next year."

"There has to be something you can do," he insists. The words fall out of his mouth before his brain catches up, and he's already cringing internally at how desperate he sounds.

"Look," you sigh. "You're not the first parent to come in here at the end of the semester and ask me to raise a grade. But, if I raised Omega's grade, then I would have to raise the grades of everyone else who turned in a similar report. And I can't do that."

"You can't be serious," he scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"I am," you say, an edge to your voice. "It wouldn't be fair."

"Life's not fair."

"Yeah, no kidding." You huff a humorless laugh. Your lips purse, and he can tell you're holding back a glare.

He knows he's pushing his luck, and he's starting to feel like an idiot, but he can't help himself.

"You can't honestly tell me that there's nothing we can do."

Your eyes flicker away from his, and your gaze drifts down to the datapad. He can see your mind working, can see the gears turning as you mull over your options. You chew on your lower lip, and Crosshair tries not to stare, but it's a struggle.

He's never met someone who could have him going from angry to intrigued in the span of a few minutes, and he's not sure why he's so fixated on you. Maybe it's the way you're not afraid to stand your ground against him, or maybe it's the fact that you seem genuinely concerned about his sister's wellbeing. Or maybe it's just the way you look, with your bright eyes and kind smile, and the way you're clearly trying your best to make a difference.

Whatever it is, it's working.

"There is one thing," you say, after what feels like an eternity.

"What?"

You take a deep breath, as if bracing yourself, and meet his eyes.

"I can't raise her grade, but I could offer her some extra credit, if she'd like. It's not a guarantee, and I'd have to see her improvement before I decided to give her the points, but it's an option."

"Yes." The word slips out before he can stop himself, and he mentally curses at his own eagerness.

You arch an eyebrow.

"She'd like that." He clears his throat and forces himself to sound casual, unbothered. "If you're willing."

"Of course." You smile at him, and the warmth that spreads through his chest is...weird. But not unpleasant.

He's not sure what he did to deserve that look, that smile, but he decides he doesn't hate it.

"I'll tell her," he says, and he gets to his feet.

You stand as well, and the height difference between the two of you is not lost on him. He has to look down to meet your eyes, and the way you have to tilt your head up makes him feel strangely amused.

He's used to looking down at people, and most of the time, it makes him feel superior. But right now, he just feels...

Well, he doesn't really know how to describe it.

"Thanks," he says, and the word sounds foreign on his tongue. It's not something he's used to saying, especially to a stranger. He's not even sure what he's thanking you for, exactly, but it feels appropriate.

"You're welcome," you say, a grin on your face that's almost too wide, too bright, too much. "Oh, one more thing."

He hums, and you take a step closer around the desk. You're a foot or so away from him, close enough that he can smell the perfume you use, the floral scent filling his senses. He swallows hard and tries to ignore the way his pulse is racing.

You're not making this easy for him.

"We had a chaperone drop out last minute for the end of the year field trip," you explain. "If you have the time, would you be interested in helping me out? We're going to the spaceport museum."

Crosshair has no interest in a bunch of kids running around a museum, and he's about to decline, but the look on your face stops him.

The pleading look in your eyes, the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the slight pout of your lips. He knows what you're doing, and he doesn't like it. He's not the kind of man who caves to pretty girls asking him for favors, and he's definitely not going to cave now.

He's stronger than this. He can resist the urge. He's a trained soldier, a skilled marksman, and he's not about to give in to the will of a cute teacher.

He's stronger than this.

"I'll do it," he hears himself say.

Fuck.

"Perfect." Your eyes light up, and your smile widens. You're practically beaming, and it's like looking directly at the sun. "I'll send you the details. Thank you, Crosshair. I'll see you soon."

"Yeah," he says, struggling to think of a clever response, but coming up empty. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else before you're practically shoving him out the door.

When he turns back to face you, he sees you wave, and then the door is shut, and you're gone.

The silence of the hallways is suddenly too much, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath.

He's in trouble.

The trip is a nightmare.

It's not your fault. If anything, you've gone above and beyond to keep the kids in line. Crosshair's watched you run after them, chasing them through the exhibit and reminding them that they're not allowed to touch things. And, for the most part, the kids are well-behaved. There are a handful of them that seem to have a problem listening, but you've got the rest under control.

He has to hand it to you. It's impressive, and a little endearing, how hard you're trying. He knows you're exhausted, can see it in the way your shoulders sag when the kids start talking over you, can see it in the way you sigh when one of them pushes their way past you.

But the kids are bored, and he can't blame them. It's a pretty lame field trip, and he doesn't really understand the point of bringing them here. What is a museum, anyway, if not a place to look at cool, old ships?

So far, all they've done is look at boring, historical texts, and listen to you drone on about the importance of space travel and the role its played in storytelling throughout the galaxy.

The whole thing is dull, and he doesn't have the patience for this. He wants to go home and do literally anything else, and if he has to listen to one more kid whine about being bored, he's going to scream.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Really, he's not bored.

In fact, he's quite the opposite.

He's fascinated.

It's the way you speak, the passion and excitement in your voice. He finds himself watching the way your lips move, the way your eyes sparkle with amusement. It's the same sparkle they had the other night, when he'd confronted you in the classroom. It's the same one that's been haunting him for the past week, and it's the reason why he's stuck here, in a crowded museum, surrounded by dozens of prepubescent teenagers, all while his brothers are back at home, probably having fun without him.

And, as if things weren't already bad enough, you're wearing the cutest outfit he's ever seen. It's a dress, the kind that flows down to your ankles, and it's got tiny flowers all over it. Your hair is pulled up into a high ponytail, tied back with a pink ribbon, and it swishes back and forth as you walk.

Crosshair's not usually one for dresses, and he's definitely not a fan of the color pink. But on you? It works.

It's almost unfair, really.

No, it's extremely unfair.

He's spent the entire day stealing glances at you, trying his best not to be obvious, and Omega is catching onto him. She keeps smirking at him, her eyes narrowed, and he's pretty sure she's been teasing him. He'll get caught staring at you, and she'll elbow him in the ribs and wink at him.

It's annoying, and he hates it.

Not as much as he hates himself, though.

Because he knows better. He knows it's wrong, knows it's stupid, and yet, he can't seem to stop himself.

And the worst part is, you don't even seem to notice. You're so busy trying to keep the kids in check, to keep them from causing a scene, that you're not paying any attention to him. He's grateful for that, because he's not sure how he'd handle the embarrassment.

But, at the same time, he wishes you would look at him. Just once. Just a quick glance, a tiny smile, a small nod. Something.

He sighs.

It's been a long day, and he's tired.

He's standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on the group of students, Omega included. They're currently huddled around a holoexhibit, and he watches as you answer their questions and explain the significance of each ship. You have the patience of a saint, and he has no idea how you do it. The questions they're asking are ridiculous, and a few of them are just flat out wrong.

Crosshair's tempted to go over and tell them how stupid they are, to get them to give you a break, but he refrains. He's not supposed to be getting involved, after all. This is your job, and he's just here to make sure the kids stay safe.

But he's not about to let them cause a scene.

A flash of metal catches his attention, and he frowns. One of the kids, a Rodian, is standing on a platform, and his hand is hovering over a lever. Crosshair doesn't need to read the label to know what the kid is thinking. He's been watching this one eye this exact display all morning, and he's been waiting for him to finally get brave enough to try his luck.

The kid reaches out, and before he can touch the lever, Crosshair strides across the room. He grabs his wrist, his grip firm, and pulls his hand away. The Rodian squawks in surprise, and Crosshair glares down at him. He's not tall, not for a Rodian, and it's easy for Crosshair to loom over him.

"Don't touch that," he growls.

"I-I wasn't gonna," the kid stammers, and his eyes dart towards the exit. He looks ready to bolt, and Crosshair would find it funny if it weren't for the way the rest of the kids are staring at him.

"Bullshit."

"Language," you scold, and Crosshair turns his head to see you approaching him, an exasperated look on your face. You have your hands on your hips, and you look like you're ready to lecture him instead of the kid who was about to activate the simulator without permission.

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you.

"You shouldn't swear in front of children," you say, your tone matter-of-fact.

"Well, maybe they shouldn't touch shit that's not theirs," he retorts, and he shoots the kid a pointed look.

"Crosshair!"

You're glaring at him now, and he knows he should feel bad, but he doesn't. He can't. Your cheeks are flushed, and your brows are furrowed, and you're trying so hard to look stern and serious, but it's not working. He's not sure why, but seeing you angry is a lot more appealing than it should be.

It makes him want to push your buttons.

"If I catch you touching this again, I'll throw you out," he warns the kid, and he lets go of his wrist. "Got it?"

The kid nods, and then he's dashing back to the rest of the group, a look of fear on his face.

"What is wrong with you?" you demand, and Crosshair looks down at you, fighting the urge to smirk. You're still glaring at him, but the flush on your cheeks is a shade darker now, and he can't help but feel a little proud of himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he says, and the smirk he'd been fighting is making its way onto his face now.

Your eyes widen. "Your job is to make sure the kids are safe, not threaten them."

"I wasn't threatening him," he scoffs.

"Yes, you were."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yes, you—"

"Okay, fine, maybe I was. A little," he admits, and you shake your head, a huff escaping you. The glare falls away, and the look on your face is softer now, a little less annoyed, and a lot more amused.

"I had it handled," you tell him, and there's a hint of teasing in your tone now, too.

"Yeah, it looked like it."

"Crosshair," you warn, but the corners of your lips are twitching upwards, betraying the seriousness of your voice.

"What? I'm just trying to help," he says, and the shrug he gives is a little more smug than it should be.

Crosshair isn't trying to antagonize you, not really. He's just...testing the waters, he supposes. Seeing how far he can push you, seeing how much you can take before you crack, and he has to admit that you're holding up pretty well so far. Most people would've told him off, or stormed off by now, but not you.

No, you're still here.

You're standing in front of him, your arms folded across your chest, trying your very best not to smile at him.

You're enjoying this.

The realization hits him like a punch to the gut, and he has to force himself to breathe normally. He's not sure why that's such a revelation, but it is. You're enjoying his company, enjoying the back-and-forth, and it makes him feel lighter than air.

"Are you always this much of an ass?" you ask, and his eyes widen at the sudden vulgarity, but he recovers quickly. He likes it, actually. The bluntness, the honesty. It's refreshing, and a lot more than he expected from you.

Crosshair smirks. "Now who's swearing in front of children?"

"They're not paying attention."

"Oh, right, because the exhibit on the history of intergalactic trade is so exciting," he says, and you snort, shaking your head.

"Yeah, you're not wrong," you admit, and he chuckles.

"I know."

"Of course you do," you mutter sarcastically. But, the annoyance has faded, and there's a smile on your face as you turn to look at the kids, so Crosshair considers it a win.

You stand there, next to him, your arms folded, and you watch as the kids slowly make their way through the exhibit. They're talking among themselves, completely oblivious to the exchange between the two of you. It's a bit of a relief, because he's not sure what they would make of the fact that he's flirting with their teacher.

Is he flirting?

No, that's not right.

He's not flirting.

He's just being...friendly. He's just making conversation, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not his fault that you're easy to talk to.

Omega is the only one looking in his direction, and he doesn't miss the grin on her face. He shoots her a look, a warning, and she winks at him. He glares, and she sticks her tongue out.

Great.

He's definitely going to hear about this later.

"You're not exactly what I was expecting," you say quietly.

Crosshair looks back at you, his heart skipping a beat when he realizes just how close you are. You're standing next to him, shoulder to shoulder, and you're looking up at him, the same sparkle in your eyes as before. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, and you seem...pleased.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asks, and he's almost afraid to know the answer.

"A good thing, of course." You nudge him playfully with your elbow, and the touch sends a jolt of electricity up his arm. "I'm glad I was wrong."

"Yeah, me too."

You laugh at that, and he smiles, more than a little pleased with himself. It's an unexpected, but pleasant, reaction, and he finds himself wanting to make you laugh again.

"Anyway," you say, taking a step back. "Thanks for keeping the kids in line. I really appreciate it."

He shrugs. "It's nothing."

"No, really." You look up at him, your eyes bright, and you give him a sympathetic smile. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for."

"It's not so bad."

You raise an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

"I mean, it's boring as hell," he admits, and the way your nose scrunches up as you laugh is adorable. He clears his throat and tries to focus. "But it's not awful. The company's...bearable."

You tilt your head to the side, and your eyes narrow. "Thanks, I think."

"Don't mention it."

"So," you start, a slight hesitation in your voice, "does this mean you're not going to file a complaint against me?"

"I wouldn't go that far," Crosshair teases. The way your eyes widen is enough to make him chuckle. "But I guess I can let it slide. For now."

"For now," you repeat, and you let out a breath. You shake your head and look up at him, the ghost of a smile on your lips. "Well, I'll take it. Now, let's get back to the kids, shall we?"

"After you," he says, gesturing for you to lead the way.

He follows after you, and he tries his best not to stare at the sway of your hips as you walk. He fails, but only a little bit.

And, if he catches you glancing back at him every so often, well, he's not complaining.

Omega is practically bouncing on her heels as they make their way down the street, heading home from the school. She's talking a mile a minute, her eyes bright, and she's still somehow full of energy despite the long day they've had. Crosshair can't quite keep up with her, and he's having trouble focusing on her words. He has no idea how you manage to do this every day, and he feels a little bad for thinking that teaching is an easy job.

She's going on about the trip, how much fun she had, and she's not slowing down. Crosshair doesn't mind, though. He's content to listen to her, and he's not going to stop her from gushing about her day. He does the same thing for her he’s always done for Tech, humming and nodding in the right places, and he knows that it makes her feel good to talk.

Besides, he's too distracted by his own thoughts to focus on what she's saying.

He's spent the last hour replaying the events of the day in his mind, trying to make sense of everything. The way you'd looked at him, the way you'd laughed, the way you'd teased him. It's all a little overwhelming, and he's not sure how to process it.

Crosshair isn't the kind of person who gets all worked up over a pretty girl. He’s not even the kind of person who gets all worked up, period.

But something about you, the way you carry yourself, the way you smile, the way you look at him. It's different.

You're different.

He doesn't know what to do with that information, and he's not sure he likes it. For all he knows, you're just being nice, just trying to be polite so he doesn’t give you a hard time. It wouldn't be the first time someone's done that.

Crosshair has been told his whole life that he's difficult to deal with, and he's learned to live with that. He's used to people being afraid of him, and he's used to people not wanting to be around him. He used to take pride in the fact that people were scared of him, but lately, it's started to wear on him.

Maybe it's because of his brothers, the way they've started to change, the way they've become softer. Or maybe it's because of Omega, the way she looks up to him, the way she trusts him, the way she thinks he's capable of great things.

Either way, he can't deny that he's a little lonely.

And maybe a little curious.

"Crosshair," Omega says, and the sharpness in her voice catches his attention. She's stopped walking, and she's giving him a look, her eyes narrowed. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" He blinks, and then he frowns. "Yeah, of course."

"Then, what did I just say?" she challenges, her hands on her hips, her head tilted up.

He pauses, and then sighs. "No, not really."

"I knew it!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "You were totally spacing out."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were," she argues, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Really? Because you look like you're thinking about something."

"Nope," he lies. Crosshair turns his head away from her, pretending to look at something else. There's a few vendors pulling in their stands in front of them, closing up for the evening, and he watches them, trying to avoid Omega's gaze. The florist is packing up his display, and the bright, colorful flowers draw his attention. He tries to ignore the fact that they remind him of your dress.

"Are you sure? You seem...weird."

"I'm fine."

"Are you thinking about the field trip?" she asks, and he can hear the smugness in her voice. "About Miss—"

"Omega." He snaps his head back towards her, his eyes wide, and he gives her a warning look.

"What?" she says, feigning innocence, and he groans.

"Just drop it," he mutters, and he turns to keep walking.

"I can't," she says, following after him. She has to jog slightly to keep up with his hurried pace, but it does nothing to deter her. "You like her."

"Of course I like her. She’s nice,” he replies. His tone comes out more defensive than casual, and he grimaces internally.

"No, you really like her."

Crosshair opens his mouth, ready to defend himself. There's no way that's true. It's impossible. He barely knows you, and you're just his sister's teacher.

Just a pretty, sweet, kind teacher who cares about her students and isn't afraid to push the boundaries to help them learn. Who didn't back down when he challenged her, and didn't hesitate to stand her ground when he was being an ass.

Who smiles at him and looks at him like he's worth something, like he's important, like he matters. Who laughs at his pathetic attempts at humor and makes him feel like he's not a complete waste of space, like maybe there's something worthwhile inside of him after all. Like maybe, just maybe, there's a chance for him.

Shit.

He shakes his head. "You're crazy."

"Am not," she insists, and she skips in front of him, forcing him to stop. "I won't tell anyone."

"Omega—"

"You know, she's single," she continues with a knowing, smug grin, and it reminds him so much of Hunter that he has to take a deep breath and count to ten before he can speak again. And even then, he's still annoyed.

"How the hell do you know that?" he demands, his eyebrows raised.

"I overheard her talking to the other teachers during lunch," she explains, and the smugness fades, replaced by a sheepish smile.

"You shouldn't eavesdrop," he chastises, though he's a little too preoccupied with the new information to put much force behind the words.

"I didn't mean to," she says with a shrug. "I was looking for her, and I found her, and they were talking about her, so..."

"So, what else did you hear?" he asks, trying his best to sound disinterested.

"Nothing."

"Omega," he warns.

"I didn't hear anything!" she insists, her eyes wide. After a beat, a smirk forms on her face, and her eyes narrow. "Why? Did you want to know something else?"

"No," he snaps, a little too quickly. "Just forget it."

"But—"

"It's not important," he says, cutting her off as he steps around her and continues walking. He hears her groan in frustration, and he smirks to himself. Serves her right.

"Wait!" She hurries after him, her hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly as she catches up. She's practically running now, trying her best to match his long strides, and her breathing is a little heavier than normal. "Crosshair, slow down."

"No."

She huffs. "I'm just saying—"

"Omega, enough."

"I think she likes you, too."

Crosshair stops walking abruptly, and Omega almost collides with him. He turns his head towards her, his eyebrows raised, and she takes a step back.

"What makes you say that?" he asks. He knows he's being foolish, letting her bait him like this, but he can't help himself. The hopeful note in her voice is hard to ignore, and he's suddenly feeling a lot more optimistic than he should.

"Because she kept looking at you," she explains.

"No, she didn't."

"Yes, she did," she argues. "She was looking at you, like, the entire time. The whole trip. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"You're exaggerating," he mutters, trying to hide the flush in his cheeks.

"I'm not," she says, shaking her head. "I was keeping track."

"You know, if you paid half as much attention to your schoolwork as you do to gossiping, neither of us would be in this mess," he retorts.

"Hey! That's not true," Omega pouts. "I learned everything I need to know about intergalactic trade from Tech. I'm good."

Crosshair can't help but smile at that, and Omega grins back at him. They start walking again, this time a little slower, and she reaches for his hand, grabbing hold of his fingers.

"But you like her, right?" she asks, tilting her head up at him.

"She's...nice," he admits, and the look on her face tells him that's not enough. He sighs and rubs the back of his neck with his prosthetic hand. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You should ask her out."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a good idea," he mutters, shaking his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I barely know her."

"So? Just get to know her," Omega says, and he sighs.

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because..." Crosshair hesitates, trying to think of a reason. The truth is, he's never really had to deal with this kind of situation. He's not exactly the best when it comes to social interactions, and his history with romantic relationships is...limited. It's not something he's ever bothered to think about, but now that it's staring him in the face, he feels woefully unprepared.

"What if she says no?"

"Well, what if she says yes?"

Crosshair doesn't respond. If he's being honest, he hadn't even considered the possibility of you saying yes. He'd been so focused on the negative outcome, the embarrassment, the awkwardness, that he'd completely forgotten about the other side of the equation. What if you did say yes? What would he do then? Would he be happy? Relieved? Or would he be even more nervous than before?

"I don't know," he finally admits.

"You should ask her," Omega urges. "At least, think about it."

"Maybe," he says, and she frowns, clearly not satisfied with the answer. He sighs, and then gives her hand a squeeze. "I'll think about it."

"Okay," she grumbles, and the two of them continue walking, falling into a comfortable silence. It's quiet between them all the way to the front door, and he's almost home free, his hand hovering over the sensor pad, when Omega speaks up.

"I'm just saying," she starts, and he groans, "you should go for it."

"I'm done having this conversation," he grumbles as he tugs her inside, slamming the door behind him. He can hear voices coming from the kitchen, and he freezes, holding fast to her wrist.

"You have to promise not to tell them."

"Okay, okay, I promise," she says, rolling her eyes, and she tugs her arm away.

"No, not okay," he says. "If you tell them, I'll kill you."

"Okay, fine," she huffs, and he narrows his eyes at her.

"I'm serious," he says, his tone low, threatening. It doesn't work on Omega, not anymore, and she just looks up at him, unbothered.

"So am I."

"Fine." Crosshair sighs, deflating, and then, before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. "So, what do I do?"

Omega's face lights up, a grin so wide it nearly splits her face in two, and he regrets the question almost instantly. "I'll help you."

"What?"

"I'll help you," she repeats.

"You're kidding," he deadpans.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "I have a great idea. Trust me."

"Omega—"

"I promise, you won't regret it," she says, and then, she's gone, dashing off towards the kitchen where Hunter and Wrecker are arguing about dinner.

Crosshair watches her go, and then, with a groan, he drags his hand over his face.

What has he gotten himself into?

The next few weeks are a blur. Omega's been keeping him busy, asking him to help her with homework, walking her to and from school, and the whole time, he's wondering when she's going to bring up her big plan.

She managed to get a score high enough on her extra credit in your class to pull her grade up, and Hunter nearly fell over when he found out. You'd sent a letter home with her, letting them know how impressed you were, and both Hunter and Wrecker wouldn't shut up about it for days. Omega's been bragging about it, too, and Crosshair's heard her go on about how smart and amazing and brilliant and perfect you are, over and over again.

She hasn't brought up her big plan again, though, and Crosshair's grateful. She has, however, started dropping hints here and there, meddling in ways that she shouldn't, and it's getting old, fast.

He's already had to stop her from inviting you over for dinner, twice, and he's not sure how much longer he can keep her from blowing his cover. More than once, Omega's forgotten her datapad at home, and he's had to drop everything to run it to the school. It's a pain in the ass, but at least it gives him an excuse to see you.

And he sees you, a lot more than he should.

He tries not to get too excited about it, tries not to think too hard about what it means, but it's impossible. Omega's made it her mission to get the two of you alone together, and he can't help but feel a bit like a pawn in her scheme, one that she refuses to share with him. Not that it matters, because it's working.

You're talking to him.

In fact, the two of you have spent so much time together over the last few weeks, that it's almost weird when he doesn't see you. Every morning, when he drops Omega off at school, he makes sure to walk her inside. You're always there, and he doesn't miss the way you look up when the door opens or the way you smile when you see him. You're usually sitting at your desk, grading papers, or helping a student, and he's quick to leave before anyone notices how long he's standing there.

But every once in a while, when he's lucky, you're standing at the front of the room, and the two of you are able to exchange a few words. It's nothing too special, and it's not as if you're exchanging life stories or anything, but it's enough. It's more than he could've hoped for, and it's better than the alternative, which is absolutely nothing. He even brought you coffee one day, after you'd stayed late to work on a project with Omega, and you'd blushed.

Blushed.

For him.

Crosshair would be lying if he said he hadn't enjoyed that. It's nice, having someone to talk to, and it's nice, being able to see you smile. Even if it's only for a minute or two, and even if his brothers are constantly giving him shit for it.

He's not an idiot. He knows they're all watching him, waiting to see how this plays out, and he's doing his best not to give them any ammunition. Omega's already told him, several times, that they're rooting for him, and he's not sure how to feel about that. The last thing he needs is everyone butting into his business, and he's hoping that Omega will keep her word and keep her mouth shut.

He's not going to say anything, not until he's absolutely sure. And, even then, he'll probably wait. The only problem is, he's almost certain he's run out of time.

Crosshair has been keeping a mental countdown, counting down the days until Omega's finished with school, and it's come up a lot sooner than he'd expected. The semester is over, and it's officially summer vacation, which means you're no longer Omega's teacher. And with that, comes an end to whatever small shred of hope he'd had that something might happen, that whatever plan Omega had in mind would work, and the two of you would end up together.

Which is fine.

Really, it's fine.

He's not hurt. He's not disappointed. He's not anything. He doesn't care, not one bit, and he definitely isn't sulking, not at all, because that would be ridiculous.

It's just a crush. A silly, stupid, fleeting thing, and it's not worth getting upset about. It's not like anything would've happened between the two of you. You're way out of his league, and he knows that.

But still.

He can't deny that he misses the daily interaction, the brief exchanges, the occasional smiles. He can't deny that he'd enjoyed it, and now that it's over, he feels a little lost.

He jumped at the chance to go to the summer festival with everyone, partly because he didn't want to be home alone, and partly because he was hoping to run into you there. Which is stupid, and foolish, and pathetic, but he can't help himself. He'd overheard you telling Omega that you'd be there, and it's the closest thing he has to a sign, and so, he's taking it.

Besides, Hunter practically ordered him to go, so it's not like he had a choice.

So, here he is, standing off to the side, watching the rest of the family enjoying themselves. It's still early, and the real festivities won't begin until the sun starts to set, but everyone is already in a good mood. He tries his best not to ruin it with his attitude, but he knows he's doing a shitty job of it, and it doesn't help that they're teasing him relentlessly.

"You're moping."

Crosshair sighs and rolls his eyes as Hunter bumps him with his elbow. He's been standing next to him, staring out into the crowd, and he doesn't turn his head when his brother speaks.

"No, I'm not," he replies.

"Yes, you are," Hunter says. He takes a sip of his drink, and then, nudges him again. "Is this about your girlfriend?"

"Shut up," Crosshair grumbles, and he elbows him back, a little harder than necessary. Some of Hunter’s drink spills, and he feels a small flash of satisfaction.

"Ow."

"Leave me alone," he says, and Hunter snorts.

"No, I'm not gonna do that," Hunter says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "It's too easy."

Crosshair groans, and turns his head away, trying his best to ignore him. It doesn't work.

"Come on, just ask her out," Hunter urges, and Crosshair glares at him.

He can hear Wrecker snickering behind him, and when he turns around, the look on his face tells him everything he needs to know. He must've been listening in the whole time.

"What's the worst that could happen?" Hunter continues.

"I could make an idiot out of myself," Crosshair replies.

"So? You already do that every day," Wrecker jokes, and he winces when Hunter smacks him.

"Not helping," Hunter mutters, and Wrecker just shrugs.

"Look," Hunter says, turning back towards him, "if she says no, at least you'll know, and you can stop worrying about it."

Crosshair doesn't respond, too caught up in the sight of you weaving your way through the crowd. You're wearing a sundress, a cute little thing that ends just above your knees, and a flower crown sitting atop of your head, and he can't take his eyes off of you.

You're walking with Omega's art teacher, a Rutian Twi’Lek laden with jewelry, talking and gesturing animatedly. She has her hands full with decorations for the festival, and you're trying to help, but she keeps shooing you away. He can see the pout on your face, and he can't help but smile, just a little, and then you turn your head and catch Crosshair staring.

He doesn't have time to look away.

He doesn't even have time to try.

Instead, he watches, frozen, as your eyes lock with his. Your face lights up, a bright smile on your lips, and you wave at him. He feels his hand lift in acknowledgement despite himself, and he can't stop the way his lips quirk up into a half-smile.

He can see Omega trailing after the two of you, a stack of posters in her hands, and she's saying something, but he can't hear her. The only thing he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears, and the only thing he can see is you, your face flushed, and a look in your eyes that's far too soft for him to know what to do with.

"Wow," Hunter says, breaking the spell, and he blinks, the image of you in front of him fading, replaced by his brother's annoying smirk.

"What?"

"I knew you liked her, but I didn't know it was this bad," Hunter says.

"Oh, come on," Wrecker teases, a big grin spreading across his face. "He's in love."

Crosshair can't stop the growl of frustration that leaves him, and the sound makes his brothers laugh. He wants to shove them, or punch them, or something, but he doesn't have the chance.

You’re walking over.

You're heading in their direction, and Crosshair panics, unsure of what to do. He doesn't know how to be anything other than aloof and rude, and he's afraid he'll say something stupid and embarrass himself. He doesn't want to mess this up, and he's terrified he'll ruin everything if he says the wrong thing.

He looks at Hunter, a desperate plea in his eyes, but his brother is no help. Instead, he just smirks and shrugs, nudging Wrecker.

"We should go check on Omega," he says, his tone is casual. "C'mon, Wrecker."

Wrecker doesn't argue, and he doesn't hesitate, following Hunter without a word. Before he can blink, they're gone, and it's just the two of you. Crosshair's not sure if it's better or worse.

"Hi," you say, your voice soft as you come to a stop in front of him.

Your cheeks are flushed, and you're fidgeting. He finds it endearing, and the fact that you're just as flustered as he is makes him feel a little bit better.

"Hey," he says, his voice coming out a bit raspier than he'd intended. He clears his throat, and then nods towards your companion. "Are you having fun?"

You tilt your head and look back over your shoulder, and Crosshair doesn't miss the slight roll of your eyes.

"Yeah, I'm having a blast," you deadpan, and he can't help but laugh. He's grown used to your particular brand of sarcasm over the past few weeks, the kind that only seems to come out when he's around, and he's come to enjoy the way it sounds when it's aimed at someone else.

"Don't worry," he says, "we can be miserable together."

"Well, that's not very festive," you reply, and there's a teasing edge to your voice. "What did the festival ever do to you?"

"Nothing, I just don't like people."

"Fair enough," you say with a laugh. "So, what brings you here?"

"Omega."

"Ah." You nod, and a soft smile forms on your face. "Of course. She told me you'll be helping us out later. Thanks, by the way."

Crosshair raises an eyebrow.

This is news to him.

"Uh, yeah," he says slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What did she say, exactly?"

"She said you'd be helping with the games." You tilt your head and look up at him, confusion in your eyes. "Is that...not true?"

He stares back at you, unsure of what to say. He's never agreed to anything like that, and the idea of working with children is...unappealing, to say the least. He can't imagine why Omega would've said that.

The realization hits him, and his eyes widen.

That little brat.

She set him up.

She's been planning this, and he was too distracted with moping to realize it. He'd let her walk all over him, and now, he's going to have to play along. Because there's no way in hell he's going to tell you the truth, not now, not when you're looking up at him, expectant and hopeful.

"Yeah, no," he lies, shaking his head. "She's right. I'll be there."

"Great," you say, and he's pretty sure you actually mean it. "I'm running the scavenger hunt. And, if you wanted, I could use a partner."

Crosshair blinks, brain stuttering over the word partner, and he must look like an idiot, because you start to backtrack.

"But, you probably have better things to do. I'm sure there's someone else who would love to help. I just thought—"

"No, no, I'll help," he interrupts, and you stop, giving him a grateful look.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

Your smile is so bright, so radiant, that it makes his heart ache. He can't remember the last time someone was this happy to spend time with him. He's not used to feeling wanted, and the knowledge that you enjoy his company fills him with a sense of pride he's not quite prepared for.

"But," he starts, his eyebrows raised, "you owe me."

"I know, I know," you say with a laugh. "Anything you want."

"I'm serious," he insists, though the smirk on his face betrays his words. "I'm doing this under duress. I'm being held against my will."

"I'll make it worth your while," you tease, and the way your eyes flash, the playful look in them, is almost enough to make him forget how to breathe. He tries not to focus on it, tries not to dwell on the way his mind immediately goes to some very interesting places, but it's a losing battle. He's sure his cheeks are red, and the knowing look in your eyes doesn't help.

"Uh," he says, his voice strangled, and he has to clear his throat again before he can continue. "Good.”

"Good," you repeat, and the smile on your face turns shy. You take a step back, and then another, and the look in your eyes is...different, softer, and a little more vulnerable. It makes his stomach twist. "Well, I should probably go. But, I'll see you later, right?"

He nods, and you grin. You wave goodbye and walk away, and Crosshair watches you go, a small smile on his face. He shakes his head and rolls his eyes at himself, but he can't stop smiling. It's a dumb thing to be happy about, but it's nice, knowing that you're looking forward to seeing him. And the way you'd looked at him, the hopeful look in your eyes, the shyness, the blush on your cheeks. He can't stop thinking about it.

It's just a crush, and it'll go away eventually. It's just a silly little thing, and it'll fade away. You'll be gone, and he'll be left behind, and everything will go back to normal. He'll get over it.

But, as he stands there, watching you laugh and smile and talk to the others, the sight of you making him feel things that he's not quite ready to admit, he can't help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he doesn't want it to.

By the time the sun sets, the courtyard is packed. The vendors have all set up their stalls, the games have begun, and the music is blaring. Crosshair stays close to Wrecker, using his bulk to help him avoid the crowds, and does his best to ignore the children running around. Wrecker's not much help. He keeps wandering off, getting distracted by the food or the games, and Crosshair is left to wander around alone.

It's not all bad, though.

He's able to keep an eye on Omega, and that's enough to keep him occupied. He knows she can take care of herself, but it's hard for him to relax when she's not within eyesight. And, every once in a while, you catch his eye. You're busy, running from place to place, and he knows that you don't have time to stop and chat, but the small, shy smiles that you give him are enough to put him at ease.

It's a nice distraction, and it helps him stay focused, which is a good thing. Because, before he knows it, it's time for the scavenger hunt. Omega drags him over to the table where you’re waiting, and he can't help but smile at the enthusiasm in your voice.

"I'm so glad you could make it," you say, and the look in your eyes tells him that you really mean it.

At his side, Omega looks far too proud of herself. Crosshair narrows his eyes at her, and she gives him a toothy grin in return.

"Me too," he mutters, and you laugh.

"Come on," you say, grabbing a basket from the table. "Let's get started."

Crosshair nods, and he stands back as you hand out datapads and explain rules to the crowd that’s formed around them. He's not paying attention. He's watching you, listening to your voice, enjoying the way you look in the light of Pabu’s setting sun, and it's a nice moment. That is, until Omega elbows him, and he startles.

"What?"

“She likes you," she whispers conspiratorially, her hand cupped over her mouth.

"Shut up," he hisses.

Omega giggles, and he glares at her, but it does nothing to wipe the smirk from her face.

"I'm not talking to you," he growls.

"Yeah, you are," she says, her voice laced with amusement. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Before he can say anything, you announce that the scavenger hunt has started, and the kids are off. Omega joins the crowd, and soon, she's lost among the swarm of children running past them. Crosshair watches her go, his eyebrows furrowed, and then, he turns his attention to you.

You're smiling, waving at the kids, and he can't take his eyes off of you. This was a bad idea. He should've said no. He should've done something, anything, but instead, he'd let himself get roped into helping, and now, he's standing here, watching you, wishing he had the courage to just say something, and it's driving him crazy.

"Thanks again for helping," you say, turning towards him, and he startles, caught off guard.

"Uh, yeah, no problem," he replies. "I was going to be here anyway."

"Yeah, Omega mentioned that."

Crosshair nods, and the two of you settle into an awkward silence. He shifts on his feet, his hands shoved in his pockets, and he stares out into the crowd. You're quiet beside him, and the longer the silence lasts, the more uncomfortable he becomes.

It's not like you to be so quiet. Usually, you're chatting his ear off, asking him questions, trying to get him to open up, and the fact that you haven't said a word is concerning. You’re shuffling datapads and small trinkets around as if looking for something to keep yourself busy, and he's starting to wonder if he's done something wrong.

He's trying not to worry about it, but the longer the silence stretches, the more his mind races. He knows he's overthinking, and the more he thinks about it, the more anxious he becomes.

It's just a crush, he reminds himself.

He doesn't want anything from you. He doesn't need anything from you. He doesn't expect anything from you. But, as he stands there, trying not to dwell on the way his heart is racing, the way his stomach is twisting, the way his breath catches in his throat, he can't help but feel like a bit of an idiot.

He can't help but wonder if you've figured him out.

Maybe you know, and that's why you're acting so strange. Maybe you can tell, and you're waiting for him to make the first move. Maybe you're nervous, or maybe, you just don't want him to say anything, because you don't feel the same way, and that's why you're keeping your distance. He knows that's a long shot, but it doesn't stop his brain from fixating on the thought. He can't help but think about how much worse it'll be if you do know.

So, he stands there, and the silence stretches on, tension thick in the air as you cast glances at each other.

It's not until a couple of kids come up and ask for help with the next clue that the tension breaks.

The two of them are young, maybe eight or nine, and they're struggling. They're a cute pair, brother and sister, and they remind him a lot of his siblings. Their parents are nowhere in sight, and they're arguing, bickering, and it’s not until you crouch down to speak to them, taking the datapad from the boy's hands, that they calm down. You explain the next clue to them, and Crosshair watches as the siblings nod, their faces lighting up with understanding.

He wants to keep watching you, but a second pair of kids approach, and then a third. He can see you’re starting to get overwhelmed, and so he picks up a datapad and gets to work.

Soon, the two of you have a rhythm. You help the younger kids while he helps the older ones, and the system seems to work. He finds himself enjoying the task, and he doesn't even realize that an hour has passed until the scavenger hunt is over and the sun has nearly set. The two of you gather up the datapads, and the kids line up in front of the table, ready to receive their prize.

They're all so excited, and they're smiling and laughing and cheering, and it's a nice sight. Crosshair has never been the biggest fan of children, but these ones aren’t so bad.

He doesn't even realize that he's smiling until Omega runs back over to him, her arms outstretched, and she flings herself at him. She grabs hold of his waist, and she squeezes him tight.

"Thanks for helping," she says, her voice muffled, and he has to swallow past the lump in his throat.

"No problem," he replies as she lets go. She's still grinning at him, her eyes bright, and he can't help but reach out and ruffle her hair. "How'd you do?"

"I won," she boasts and slaps his hand away, and he rolls his eyes, unable to keep from smirking.

"Of course you did."

"It wasn't easy," Omega continues, her eyebrows raising as she speaks slowly. "But I had a great partner."

Crosshair sighs, and he gives her a knowing look, which she ignores.

“Don’t screw this up,” she whispers, and then, before he can say anything, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the others.

You're still sitting at the table, and he takes a moment to compose himself before heading over. You're organizing the datapads, sorting them into a bag, and he takes a seat next to you.

"Thanks for the help," you say, and he nods, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Not a problem."

"You did a good job," you tell him. He ducks his head, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as you continue, “You’re good with them.”

"Well, you're welcome," he says, his voice low. "I have a lot of practice dealing with little brats."

You laugh, and the sound makes his heart swell. You continue sorting the datapads, and he watches you work, his eyes trailing over your features. It's not until you clear your throat that he realizes how long he's been staring.

"So, um," he begins, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he's been caught. "I was thinking..."

You look up. "Yeah?"

"You owe me."

"Huh?"

"You said anything I want," he explains, and the confusion on your face clears.

"Right," you reply, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. You stop what you’re doing and turn to face him fully. "And what would that be?"

"Dinner.”

"Dinner?" you repeat, your eyebrows raised, and he nods.

"With me."

"Are you asking me on a date, Crosshair?"

"Yeah," he says, and his heart leaps into his throat when your eyes light up. "I'm asking you on a date."

"Oh," you say, a soft smile on your lips, and he can't help but mirror it. "Well, how could I say no?"

"Great," he replies, and then, after a pause, he asks, "is that a yes?"

"Yes, of course it's a yes,” you chuckle. You shake your head, and then, a teasing smile forms on your face. "Did you think I was gonna say no?"

"Uh," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was prepared for it."

You snort, and the laughter that follows is almost enough to distract him from the way his cheeks are burning. Almost. He looks away, embarrassed, but he can't help but smile.

"Sorry," you say, stifling your laughter, and he shrugs.

"It's fine."

"No, no, I'm not laughing at you," you say. You're biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, and his eyes narrow. "It's just..."

"What?"

"This whole time," you begin, and you have to bite back another laugh. "I've been trying to figure out how to ask you out."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah," you admit, and the shy smile on your face is almost too much for him to handle. He can't believe what he's hearing. "I've been waiting for an excuse to spend some time alone with you, but I couldn't think of anything. So, when Omega mentioned you'd be helping out, I figured it would be my chance."

Crosshair shakes his head, trying to process the words. It's a lot to take in. You've been trying to ask him out? All this time, he's been wondering, worrying, and it was all for nothing? You've wanted this, too?

"Oh," is all he can manage, and it's enough to make you laugh again.

"Yeah."

He doesn't know what to say, so he stays silent. You shift next to him, and you place your hand on his arm, the contact sending sparks through his skin. Your touch is light, but it makes his breath catch, and he doesn't miss the way you smile at his reaction.

“So, do you want to watch the fireworks with me?” you ask, your voice soft.

"Yeah, sure," he says. He's trying not to let his excitement show, but judging by the grin on your face, he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Good."

He's expecting you to let go of his arm, but instead, you slide your hand down, and your fingers brush against his, a subtle gesture that makes his heart race. He turns his hand palm up, and you slide yours into it, your touch warm and gentle. His fingers curl around yours, and the smile on your face makes him feel bold.

Crosshair stands, pulling you up with him, and the two of you walk to the edge of the courtyard, hand in hand. It’s quiet now, save for the music playing over the speakers and the soft murmur of conversation, and the sky is dark. There are only a few people left nearby, mostly parents picking up their children, and no one pays the two of you any mind. You squeeze his hand, and he squeezes back, a smile forming on his face.

You lead him down a set of steps, and the two of you make your way towards a spot overlooking the bay. The breeze is cool, and the smell of salt fills the air. Without the lanterns and torches and strings of lights, it's dark, and he can just barely see your face, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

There’s a tree behind you, and it offers a bit of privacy, and the two of you settle against it, sitting on the grass. He can see the bay spread out in front of them, and the waves crashing on the beach, a steady rhythm that helps slow his racing heartbeat.

He's still holding your hand, and he gives it another squeeze. You lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder, and the two of you watch as the fireworks begin. The explosions are loud, and bright, and colorful, and you point out the best ones, and the ones that remind you of him, and the ones that make you laugh. And, as the fireworks continue, as the colors fill the sky, you lean closer, and he pulls you into his arms.

He's not sure how long it lasts, but the longer the fireworks go on, the closer you get, and the more content he becomes. You're sitting between his legs, leaning back against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you, holding you close.

You turn your head, the movement catching his eye. Your eyes meet his, and the two of you stare at each other, and the fireworks fade away, forgotten.

"Hey," he whispers, and the corner of your mouth twitches.

"Hey."

"This is nice," he says, his voice low.

"Yeah, it is."

You shift, turning towards him, and your face is so close that he can feel your breath on his lips. He knows he should wait, should give you a chance to change your mind, should give himself a chance to talk himself out of it, but he can't.

"I—"

"Yes," you interrupt, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he has to laugh.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say," he teases, and you shrug.

"I'm sure it's something good," you say. You reach up, cupping his cheek with your free hand. "Whatever it is, the answer is yes."

He can't stop the smile that forms on his face. He doesn't even try. He just leans in, closing the gap between the two of you, and he kisses you, a soft press of his lips against yours. He feels you sigh against his mouth, and his eyes flutter closed as he loses himself in the kiss.

The fireworks are still going off, but he can barely hear them, and the cheers and laughter and music are distant, a soft hum that fades away. All he can focus on is the feel of your lips against his, the warmth of your body pressed against his, and the soft sound of your breathing.

He feels you smile, and his heart races, and he has to pull back to catch his breath. He opens his eyes, and he's met with the sight of you, your face flushed, and the most beautiful smile he's ever seen.

"That was nice," you say softly, and he scoffs.

“Just nice?" he asks, half-joking and half-serious. He’s just had the best kiss of his life, and if you think it was just nice, then he's got some work to do.

"Well, maybe it was a little more than nice," you tease. The look in your eyes has him leaning in again, his gaze drifting from your eyes to your lips and back.

"Only a little?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Hmm, well, let's try that again," he murmurs, and you laugh, a soft breath against his lips.

"Alright."

Crosshair kisses you again, and this time, the kiss is deeper, slower, and more deliberate. His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you onto his lap, and you don't hesitate to follow his lead. He runs his tongue along your lower lip, and when you moan into his mouth, he feels a thrill rush through him.

Your hands are on his shoulders, and you're straddling his lap as you kiss him back, matching his pace. The feel of your tongue sliding against, and the soft whimper you make when he bites down on your bottom lip, nearly drives him crazy. He grips your hips, and he tugs you closer, the pressure of your weight against him drawing a groan from his mouth into yours. It’s a sound so low and raw that it surprises him, but you don’t seem taken aback by it. If anything, you seem pleased, and it suddenly occurs to him that there’s a lot he doesn’t know about you.

And, for once, he's excited to learn.

He doesn't want this to end, and when you break the kiss, his lips chase yours, unwilling to part just yet. You're gasping, your breath coming in shallow pants, and he rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his fingers digging into your hips.

"You're right," you say, breathless. "Definitely better than nice."

Crosshair laughs, and he opens his eyes. The sight of you, your eyes dark and your cheeks flushed, lips swollen and red, is almost enough to make him let go of the fragile grasp he has on his control. He wants to kiss you again, and again, and again, but the sound of cheering startles him and reminds him of where he is.

He blinks, and he looks around, and then, he lets out a breath. The fireworks are over.

He hadn't realized.

You're still staring at him, a dazed look in your eyes, and when your lips twitch into a smirk, his grip on your hips tightens.

"Don't look at me like that," he warns, his voice raspy.

"Why not?" you ask. Your hand moves from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers brushing against the hairs there, and it sends a shiver down his spine.

"Because I'm trying to be good," Crosshair explains. "And you're making it very difficult."

"I'm sorry," you say, but there's a hint of laughter in your voice that tells him you're not sorry at all.

"Don't be," he replies, and then, with a groan, he continues, "you're worth it."

Your cheeks flush, and he has to fight the urge to lean in and kiss you again. He knows if he does, he'll never be able to stop, and he'd prefer not to scandalize the locals. Or worse, have his brothers catch him in the act. So, instead, he takes a deep breath, and he moves his hands from your hips to your waist.

"Come on," he says, giving you a gentle nudge, and you pout.

"Fine," you sigh, and you give him a quick peck on the cheek before sliding off his lap. You stand and dust yourself off, and then, you offer him a hand. He takes it and lets you help him to his feet. You're still holding his hand as the two of you start walking, heading back up the stairs.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence, "when should we have that date?"

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"You don't waste any time, do you?" you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

“I’ve wasted enough time," Crosshair says, his tone serious, and you give him a look of understanding

"Yeah, me too."

"So, tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow.”

The two of you share a smile, and he leads you back through through the courtyard. You walk slowly, and you let go of his hand, but the loss of contact is quickly forgotten when you lean into him, your shoulder brushing against his. He's tempted to wrap his arm around you, to pull you close, but the idea of having an audience for that makes his stomach turn, so he doesn't. Instead, he just enjoys the feeling of you at his side, and the easy way you fit into his space.

It doesn’t take long to make it to the point where you part ways, and the two of you linger, neither one of you ready to leave the other.

"I guess this is goodnight," you say, your voice soft.

"I guess so."

You reach out and grab his hand, and you squeeze it, giving him a shy smile. He squeezes back, and then, without thinking, he raises your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it.

The flash of embarrassment that follows is enough to make his face heat, but it's worth it for the way your eyes light up, and the faint blush that colors your skin. You duck your head, and the small, pleased smile on your face has his heart racing.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you say.

"Goodnight."

You turn away, and he watches you go, his eyes lingering on the sway of your hips, and the way your hair dances in the wind. You don’t make it very far before you turn around, a mischievous grin on your face.

"By the way," you begin, your voice raised, and the smirk on his face fades. "Tell Omega I said thank you.”

Crosshair's eyes narrow, and his mouth opens and closes, his mind stuttering as he tries to process the words.

Omega set him up, and you knew, and this entire night was her idea. He'd known, in the back of his mind, that she'd been plotting something, and yet, it hadn't occurred to him until now just how much that entailed.

That little brat.

He can't decide if he's proud or embarrassed. He settles for a combination of the two, and the amused look on your face tells him that he's doing a poor job of hiding his feelings.

"Goodnight, Crosshair," you call out, a teasing lilt to your voice.

"Goodnight," he calls back, his tone flat.

You wave goodbye, and then, with a final, knowing look, you turn around and walk away.

He waits until you're out of sight before letting out a groan. Crosshair runs his hand down his face, and he shakes his head, trying not to think about how many times he'd made a fool of himself tonight. His siblings were never going to let him live this down. He sighs, and then, with a roll of his eyes, he starts walking.

When he makes it home, he finds them already gathered in the living room, talking amongst themselves. Omega’s chosen a chair that faces the front door, and her head snaps over toward him as soon as he walks in. Wrecker and Hunter catch on quick, and the room falls silent, the three of them watching him.

"So, how'd it go?" Omega asks innocently.

Crosshair glares at her, his eyes narrowed. She meets his gaze, a challenging look on her face, and he closes the front door with more force than necessary.

"It went fine."

"Fine?" Wrecker repeats. "That's it?"

They’re all staring at him now, and he can feel his temper rising, the heat of embarrassment rushing to his cheeks, and his fingers twitch, aching to shoot something. He forces himself to calm down, to remind himself they’re only asking because they care. Crosshair relaxes his shoulders, his jaw unclenching, and then, he lets out a sigh.

"Yes, fine," he says, his voice low. "We're going out tomorrow."

The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and Wrecker stands, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Crosshair squirms, trying to escape, but it's useless.

"Wrecker, let him go," Hunter orders, and Crosshair breathes a sigh of relief when his brother finally releases him.

"Thanks, Wrecker," Crosshair grumbles, only to let out a grunt when Omega barrels into him, her arms wrapped around his waist.

"I told you it would work," she says, and Crosshair reaches down and ruffles her hair.

"Yes, you did," he concedes, and the look of triumph on her face has him rolling his eyes. He sighs and extracts himself from her embrace, and he clears his throat. “She says thanks.”

Omega beams, and Wrecker and Hunter laugh, clapping him on the back. They congratulate him, teasing him, and he bears it as best he can, trying not to show how happy he is even as his heart races, and a warm feeling spreads through him.

He hadn't thought he'd have this again, a family, people who cared about him, and he hadn't dared to hope that he'd find something else, something more. He hadn't even known what he was missing until he met you.

And, for the first time in a long time, he's excited for the future.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

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@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

#tbb crosshair #crosshair x reader #the bad batch #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch crosshair #clone x reader #the bad batch x reader #roy writes #realizing just now that I forgot about batcher im sorry #also confession time: i hate HATE naming fics #i cringe so hard #literal agony every time i have to name one of these #if anyone wants to volunteer to be my title generator #i'd owe you my life #chatgpt is not cutting it

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puppy-byun · 1 year ago

Text

Just Friends... Unless...? | Pt. 3

pairing: Hyunjin x Reader / a sprinkle of Seonghwa x Reader

rating: 18+

word count: 13.3k

genre: smut / friends to lovers / angst / university au

warnings: curse words, weed consumption and drinking (not by reader or hyunjin), angst, bad flirting, more angst, ANGST, sex, please use protection please be smart!!!!, fingering, overstimulation, oral (f. receiving), light dirty talk, pet names

summary: You weren’t crushing on Hyunjin. You couldn’t be crushing on Hyunjin because you were just friends, and there was no way he would ever feel the same way about you. Right? Unless...?

note: we're already done with another one i can't believe... I hope you all had fun and enjoyed this & if you did I'd be happy if you leave me your thoughts in a reply or ask hihi

taglist: @chartrucewhore @hyunfruits @petalsnow @yaorzu-blog

previous | masterlist

You didn’t expect Chan to wait for you two days later after your lecture, leaning against the wall next to the exit of your classroom, arms crossed like a father waiting for his daughter to get home in the middle of the night.

“Uhm, hi?” you greeted, not unhappy to see your friend but something in your gut told you he was here with a purpose that you weren’t going to like. Nonetheless you gently disentangled his arms and hooked yours through instead, tugging him along down the hallway and towards the building’s exit. “To what do I owe the honor of you picking me up? Don’t you have classes, too?” you mock scolded, already having an idea why he was here. You were sending a silent prayer that you were wrong.

“I do but apparently if you fake a spontaneous bout of sickness they excuse you before you can throw up in their classroom.” Chan admitted with a proud grin and you swatted him over the back of his head, struggling to reach up.

“Skipping class, I see.” you tsked, shaking your head as if you were disappointed in him. “And here I thought you are a role model.”

Chan let out a dry chuckle, raising an eyebrow. “To whom? Jeongin already is the most responsible one out of you guys. I gave up a while ago with the rest of you.”

You laughed with him, knowing that he was only joking because while some of you were indeed slacking off at times, you knew no one more dedicated to their passions than your friends.

“Anyway, I know what you’re doing, and you know just fine why I’m here.”

“Yes actually I just remembered I wanted to talk to my professor so I’m gonna head back-“ you were already about to turn around and make a swift exit to anywhere where Chan wasn’t but he had expected this and caught your arm faster than you could dive away from his grasp.

“Oh no. We are going to talk now.” Giving in with a sigh you let him pull you along but refused to say anything. This talk would only happen if Chan coaxed it out of you word by word.

“Here, I brought you some endorphins because I have a feeling you need them,” he started, fishing one of your favorite chocolate bars out of his bag. You took it with a mumbled thank you but refused to look at your friend, focusing on the chocolate instead.

“Chan, we already talked at that stupid pool party. What more is there to talk about?”

“For starters, we could talk about what on earth went down after we talked, because Seungmin, Minho and Felix have all separately told me that Hyunjin is basically living in the practice room ever since that night.”

“That’s like, two days. He’s done that before, it’s normal,” you waved him off nonchalantly, refusing to admit anything as long as you didn’t have to. You wish you could say you had managed to not think about that night much, or at least everything that had gone down before you had gone inside with Seonghwa. But your mind was as hyper-focused on Hyunjin as ever, even when he was being an absolute idiot.

“We all know that, but if they’re worried you know it’s exceeding the normal extent. And the fact that you’re not looking at me and keep pretending this chocolate is the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen is telling me that you know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Why don’t you go talk to him then?” you huffed, trying not to come off as snappy because Chan didn’t deserve your frustration.

“Because you were my friend first. I can tell you’re unhappy and I want to help, but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I can’t do that.”

“You can’t help either way, Chan. But alright,-“ you conceded with a sigh “I’ll tell you. Hyunjin and me kissed, okay?” you dropped that bomb in as meek a voice as possible, ready to move on with your retelling and not dwell on this. “And then he-“

“Hold up, stop right there. When?“ he physically stopped mid-walk, eyes big and hand held out in front of your chest, automatically causing you to look up at him.

“Karaoke night.” You answered automatically. “The others took Jisung home and I offered to take Hyunjin because he was drunk. That’s when.” You finished lamely, hoping to skip the recounting of this night in any more detail.

“The next day he didn’t remember anything. Or he pretended not to remember anything. I doesn’t really matter, because I realized how fucked I am either way. And ever since then things have been really weird between us. The kiss-“ you cringed a bit at that word because it had been so much more, and if it really just had been a kiss the whole situation probably wouldn’t have blown up quite like this. “After the kiss it was weird because I remembered. And whether purposely or not, Hyunjin didn’t. But I thought we’d be fine when he asked if I’d come to the pool party. And then he really exploded on me in a nasty way and now everything is even worse.”

“Was that before or after you got cozy with Seonghwa?”

“After,” you added meekly, his gaze telling you exactly where he was going with this. He didn’t even add anything, just staring at you with a raised brow and letting the pregnant silence weigh in.

Finally you gave in, looking away with a grumpy huff because maybe Chan was making some points, but you had just as many to prove that he was wrong, the biggest one being that you had been friends for three years with no instance of Hyunjin ever indicating he wanted to be more than your friend other than that one time two weeks ago.

“You know, I’ve been talking about this with Changbin and Seungmin a lot, but actually everyone except for you knows.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant, but you also didn’t indulge him with a reply. Just because they thought they were pinpointing some signs correctly didn’t prove anything unless Hyunjn told anyone himself.

“Why do you think none of us have ever made a move on you, apart from the obvious reasons why I haven’t?”

“Because we’re friends,” you supplied with a tone that clearly implied a heavy duh. You didn’t miss the irony of saying the same thing about Hyunjin and you, yet everything between the two of you was vastly different.

“And you think just because we’re friends Jisung or Changbin have never had a crush on you?”

“What?!” you burst out, too shocked now to continue staying nonchalant and blasé about this when you hadn’t been the whole talk anyways.

Chan was only grinning because he knew he got you now. “Well anyways, that’s not the point,” he added unhelpfully, clearly not going to dwell on this topic right after he dropped a bomb like that.

“Why did you tell me then?!” you pressed on, your brain still processing his last few sentences and not quite keeping up.

“To prove a point, obviously. They’re long over it now- actually over it, not the way you were over Hyunjin.” You punched him in the shoulder for that jab, even though he was regretfully completely right again. “They never acted on it because Hyunjin has always liked you, right from the very beginning.”

“As if Changbin is scared of competing with Hyunjin,” you scoffed, still not buying what Chan was selling you because the idea that Hyunjin liked you was simply too ridiculous.

“He’s not, of course, but everyone can tell how much Hyunjin likes you and no one wants to hurt him that way.”

“Chan, I appreaciate the effort of making me feel better, but none of this makes sense. Why was Hyunjin all over Chaeyoung if he allegedly likes me?”

“Why were you all over Seonghwa?”

“Because I want to get over Hyunjin and I want to prove to myself that I ca- oh.” You stopped mid-sentence, realizing you had talked yourself into this one. You hated to admit that Chan was making sense but there was no way to deny it. Neither you nor Hyunjin had ever had hookups in front of the other in those three years you had known each other, but as soon as you had, both of you had reacted so poorly it was downright embarrassing. Him getting drunk and throwing a fit, you jumping on Seonghwa’s offer to fuck just to prove a point. Maybe Chan was right after all. Yet, if Hyunjin liking you meant him treating you the way he had you weren’t sure you wanted it.

“He still said horrible things to me, Chan. I could tell he wanted his words to hurt. Who does that, especially since he allegedly likes me?”

“Feelings do make us act more irrational and stupid. And he was drunk.”

“Yeah, so? And on top of that he had plenty of time to apologize, yet he did not.”

Chan sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side in a comforting half-hug.

“Look, I’m not trying to protect him, I’m one hundred percent with you on this. But we’ve all done and said horrible things coming from a place of hurt. You’re not even sure if he remembers the kiss, yet you’re hurt he doesn’t mention it. But you were sober, and if he remembers but for some reason acts as if he doesn’t, then he knows you remember for sure, yet you don’t mention it either.”

You ignored that technically Chan was, once again, right. You couldn’t really blame Hyunjin if he was pretending not to remember, not unless you held yourself accountable too, because you could’ve brought it up just as well, but chickened out.

“So, we agree he’s probably lying to me?” you settled on instead, because this was easier. Being angry at Hyunjin was easier than facing that both of you screwed up big time.

“Listen, if this were any other guy I’d already have punched him in the face personally,” Chan assured you, squeezing your shoulder gently. “But it’s Hyunjin. We’ve all been friends for years. You have been in love for years-“

“Debatable on his part,” you protested just for good measure but Chan simply ignored the comment.

“-while I was hoping this would explode with you two finally fucking, it kinda went the other direction, but that doesn’t mean it’s unfixable.”

And he was right, you didn’t want to give up on this friendship, on Hyunjin, so easily. Feelings or not, he had been one of your closest friends for so long you did not want to lose that over something this stupid. But you were also hurt, and those feelings didn’t just go away either.

“I’ll think about it.” You finally admitted in defeat, feeling extremely overwhelmed with everything going through your head, but you couldn’t deny that talking to Chan had helped. “It’s just a lot to take in and I’m not sure what to do with any of this just yet.”

You weren’t sure a couple of days later either, but the world regrettably didn’t stop spinning for you to figure out your feelings, so you were left with very little choices but to confront them sooner rather than later.

“Come oooooon,” Chaeryoung was whining for the nth time this morning, and you couldn’t really be mad at her. “It’s a Jackson Wang party, you know we cannot pass on that.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to groan because she couldn’t know all the reasons you very well wanted to pass on a Jackson Wang party since you hadn’t told her. “I’ve literally heard damn near urban legends about his parties, and when we finally get invited to one you want to say no?!”

She had said this, too, at least twice already.

“What do you mean we? Last time I remembered Seonghwa asked me,” you joked, teasing her because this was the only thing you could do since you couldn’t outright be annoyed with her. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know you had good reasons not to go. If anything, you had to blame yourself for telling her Seonghwa invited you in the first place.

His text message was the first thing you had seen in the morning and in your half-asleep state you had not considered the consequences of telling Chaeryoung you had received an invitation to a party at Jackson Wang’s house. Not only was she dead-set on the fact that there was no way you would decline because she would, quote, ‘rather die than miss this opportunity’.

To make matters worse, she had consequently found out that the invitation had come from none other than Seonghwa directly. Since there were very few scenarios as to why he would invite you her mind immediately jumped to the one plausible conclusion. You didn’t feel like diving into a recount of your night – especially because you’d rather not mention what led up to the decision to leave with Seonghwa, so you just let her construct her own picture of what had happened. You didn’t need to elaborate on whether you had actually slept with him or not before you found out he’s the biggest Star Wars nerd (the R2D2 underwear was a bit of a giveaway though) and had subsequently spent the rest of your night with him trying to convince you you just absolutely had to marathon Star Wars with him.

You were fairly sure that this wasn’t necessarily a booty call (although he probably wouldn’t say no either) – he actually just seemed to enjoy hanging out with you.)

Chaeryoung, however, who was nurturing a never-ending admiration from afar for Hongjoong, had smelled blood, convinced that this was the night she would finally get to make a move.

Since then she had not stopped pestering you for the last three or so hours, constantly bringing up new arguments why you had to go and why there was no reason not to, and you had trouble coming up with an excuse. You couldn’t very well tell her the truth, which was that there was a very high risk Hyunjin would be at the party as well, and you were far from having figured out your feelings and definitely not ready to face him. Then again, you doubted you would know what to do even if you had a week or a month to think about it. Plus, since you doubted Chaeryoung would let go of this, you finally gave in with a sigh, reaching for your phone to ask Chan if he would be going as well and could drive you.

“Don’t ignore me!” Chaeryoung huffed, plopping down on the sofa next to you to catch a glimpse at your phone. “Hold up, are you actually asking Chan do drive us? I convinced you?”

She looked at you so shocked you realized she hadn’t actually been sure she would succeed.

“As if you’d ever let me live it down if I got between you and your shot at getting with Hongjoong.”

“Very true, bestie,” she nodded, poking her tongue out and almost jumping up when your phone buzzed next to you. “Was that Chan? Is he driving us? God I can’t believe I’ll end up making out with Hongjoong tonight.”

If anything, you had to commend her confidence and drive, so you let her have the moment, even though you felt sick at the prospect of probably seeing Hyunjin again already.

Jackson’s house was big, at least from the stories you’d heard. That is what you were telling yourself to calm down and convince yourself there was a chance that you might be spared from running into Hyunjin. Those hopes were crushed mercilessly when you were towed towards Chan’s car by Chaeryoung a few hours later, and you spotted the one boy you had been hoping to avoid on the passenger seat next to Chan. Granted, you only saw the back of his head and the tiniest bit of side profile but that was enough for you to immediately recognize Hyunjin.

Your mood soured almost instantly, feeling a bit betrayed that Chan hadn’t even warned you. Yeah, he was still going with the whole ‘you both need to confront your feelings and sort this out’ thing, but there were subtle ways to push the agenda, and then there was this. Chaeryoung, still thankfully oblivious to the true reason of your hesitancy to go to this party, was dragging you to the car without slowing down, opening the door and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly hello. You couldn’t share her excitement, half tempted to whack Chan over the head for forcing you into this situation. You hadn’t talked to Hyunjin in days, technically even longer if the awkward half-conversations via texts before that weren’t counted – and they shouldn’t be. And as if to fuck you over even more, the dim lights of the car were not enough to conceal his outfit. God, he had to be doing this on purpose.

He knew he looked good, of course he knew. Ever since he had grown out his hair and bleached it even he couldn’t not notice the effect he had on people around him. Despite that he barely went through any extra effort when you went out, knowing he looked breath-taking as it was.

Not tonight though. Tonight, as if struggling with your feelings for him day by day wasn’t torture enough, he wore his long hair open, casually tucked behind his ears to show off a row of earrings dangling. He’d even gone through the trouble of applying eyeliner – you’d only seen him do that once or twice, despite always telling him how good it looked, but of course tonight he’d remember. It wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was the high sleeveless top, that didn’t just show off his arms and shoulders in a way that made it impossible not to look. No, as if that wasn’t enough, the sleeve cut outs were so big if he moved just a bit he might as well just go shirtless. You were just about ready to throw the door shut and run back to your dorm, abandoning ship, but Chaeryoung wasn’t having any of it. She grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the car so decisively you almost banged your head.

At least the light and angle were saving you from the sight of Hyunjin’s lean muscles peeking out thanks to that horrible shirt.

You mumbled out a greeting so silent and grumpy it was only rivalled by Hyunjin’s, and your hopes for having a decent, amicable evening were dwindling rapidly. The looks should have been an incentive to do what Chan kept urging you to do – either talk it out or finally get on Hyunjin’s lap – but in all honestly it only made you angry because there was no way this was a coincidence. He barely ever made an effort, and suddenly tonight he would make sure to tick all the boxes of everything you’d ever mentioned you found attractive?

You were still hoping that Hyunjin might be smarter sober, but the mood between you was undeniably icy already, so you weren’t very optimistic. Even though you hadn’t sorted your feelings out and talking to Chan had only made everything a lot more complicated you desperately wanted to find even the smallest reason to forgive Hyunjin to at least have your friend back. But he wasn’t even looking at you, giving you a vibe so frosty you doubted he even wanted to be forgiven. You had really hoped sober him would be more reasonable than drunk him, but you hadn’t counted on just how petty Hyunjin could be.

“You look good.” You barely caught Chan’s comment, snorting when the words filtered in because he was shamelessly exaggerating.

“If you’d say that to Chaeryoung I’d believe you. I’m wearing sneakers and a shirt, who are you trying to fool?”

You were surprised just how much you were able to shut out Hyunjin and shove those feelings aside even when he was right there. But even so the conversation simply felt off, and how could it not when two out of four people wouldn’t even properly look at each other. It was Chan’s own fault, really, for bringing you both in this situation, but poor Chaeryoung had no idea what was going on. She had undoubtedly caught on to the mood, if her squirming next to you was any indication.

Chaeryoung was talkative by nature, bubbly and sweet, but she could not handle awkward or uncomfortable silences so it had only been a matter of time before she would force up a conversation. You had come surprisingly far before she couldn’t take it any longer; but for the second time today her not being in the loop was coming to bite you in the ass, because what she caught on was the one topic she assumed all of you were in on.

“I wish I could just show up in shorts and a shirt, honestly, but I have a game plan for tonight and that’s getting with Hongjoong, and I’ll be damned if I don’t pull all the heavy weaponry,” she stated, pointing her finger towards her very generously low-cut top as if it hadn’t been clear already what she was talking about. “I still can’t believe you pulled Seonghwa without any effort and you don’t even let me in on your secrets.”

You had laughed when you’d told her about it the first time. It wasn’t so funny now, when you caught Hyunjin stiffen in his seat out of the corner of your eye. Chan, as small as a consolidation as it was, seemed to catch on that maybe this wasn’t the best conversational topic, but Chaeryoung couldn’t know that and judging by how she was worrying the edge of her dress nervously, visibly uncomfortable in this car ride, you already knew she wouldn’t read the room and stop talking.

“If you go home with him again tonight, which, by the way, I really think you should because that pretty boy is quite the catch, you have to tell us beforehand so we don’t end up looking for you all over the house.”

You just desperately wanted her to not push this topic any further but at this point the damage was done and your fingers were digging into the seat of Chan’s car. Hyunjin’s voice came like an icy cut, cold and with a snide you had barely ever heard from him. In a way, this was even worse than the weekend before, because this time he was sober.

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask what that even was last weekend. I never pegged you to be the type of girl to throw herself at a guy the way you threw yourself at him.”

For a moment no one said anything, the words sinking in. You were honestly struggling to even come up with anything to say because you didn’t find it in you to throw something equally as malicious at his head when you didn’t mean it.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?!”

It was Chan who spoke up instead, sounding somewhere between irritated and furious, and while you were grateful he felt the need to stand up for you, you feared it would only make things worse. “As if you weren’t close to shoving your hand down Chaeyoung’s bikini top right in that pool. A bit hypocritical to call someone out for flirting, don’t you think?”

You knew Chan was judging neither of you for any of that. But he had already told you that if it were any other guy treating you this way he would’ve already punched him. Apparently Hyunjin slut-shaming you was tethering dangerously close to making Chan forget they were friends.

“Of course you’re going to pick her side.”

You weren’t sure whether you had wanted an answer from Hyunjin beyond that, because it was bad enough, but you should have expected that it would only get much worse when Chaeryoung decided she had to defend you, too, probably irritated at the fact that you were not speaking up for yourself. Outstanding qualities in a friend, but right at that moment you wished she would care for you a little less.

“So, when did you realize you have a crush? Before or after she fucked Seonghwa?” Chaeryoung’s voice was a sneer but what was worse was Hyunjin’s reaction upon hearing her words. Chan had barely parked the car, not even killed the engine yet, and Hyunjin stormed out without another word, banging the car door shut with such force all three of you flinched in your seats.

You had thought it couldn’t possibly be more awkward when you’d entered the car, but now with Hyunjin’s dramatic exit you realized you had been dead wrong. Chan was gripping the stirring wheel so hard his knuckles turned white, and you didn’t even need to fully look at Chaeryoung to catch the look of utter shock on her face. In any other situation you’d have laughed, but now you only felt empty and exhausted.

You didn’t know whether either of them was waiting for you to say something or not, but even if they were, there was nothing you could’ve possibly said. You were as affronted as they were, although probably a hell of a lot more hurt. But now that you were already at the party and the damage was done, there was little you could do, so you decided that you would at least try to make it as pleasant as possible for your friends.

“I thought you wanted to meet Hongjoong, what are we sitting around here for?” you quipped up at Chaeryoung instead, the cheerfulness in your voice sounding forced even to you, but it was honestly the best you could do. You were out of the car before either of them could say something and you heard the car doors shut behind you. Of course they wouldn’t simply leave it at that after what had just happened though.

“Are you sure you still want to go?” Chan’s voice was laced thickly with worry while you heard him hurry after you. You were crossing the ridiculously long driveway with big strides, even more grateful you had opted for sneakers instead of anything less comfortable. You didn’t look back, but you knew Chaeryoung had trouble keeping up with the way she was huffing between her words.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I was bringing up a touchy topic,” she asserted, sounding honestly guilty even though you’d never dream of blaming her for something that she couldn’t have known and wasn’t her fault.

“You’re clearly upset, can we please go get burgers or something instead and talk about this?” Chan was pleading to a rational part of you that had shut down the moment Hyunjin had banged the car door shut with anger. Of course you were upset, but no amount of talking or fast food could change that.

“Chan is right, this party isn’t important, let’s watch Netflix and trash talk Hyunjin instead,” Chaeryoung reinforced Chan’s arguments, but you weren’t even close to agreeing. Hyunjin had ruined enough of your time by making you upset about him. Turning around with an angry huff you shook your head decidedly.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern but it’s fine. I don’t care. Fuck Hwang Hyunjin.”

You found Seonghwa on the first level balcony, a laughably large space with various lounge chairs, a fire crackling in an iron brazier, and its own, second bar. There would definitely be no one leaving sober for a lack of alcohol.

Seonghwa was lounged on one of the lush looking pillows covering the beach chairs, surrounded by a few other people. You hadn’t been introduced to them but you knew them at least by sight, every single one of them infamous on campus in their own regard. Plastering the brightest smile you could muster on your face you crossed the balcony, side-stepping a few drunk people dancing until you reached Seonghwa, who was already looking at you with a dazzling smile, seemingly actually happy to see you.

“Hey angel. I see you put on the fancy shirt for me,” you glanced down, taking short notice of the shirt Seonghwa was talking about, only to confirm with a nod and a grin.

“Of course. I knew you, at least, would appreciate the effort I took.”

He was still wearing that big goopy grin, but you could tell even in the dim light that his eyes were a little unfocused. If the red cups littering the floor around them and the smell of weed were any indication, you weren’t surprised why.

“C’mere,” Seonghwa drawled, one arm wrapping around your leg so he could pull you towards him. You caught yourself by the edge of the lounge chair before you fell like an idiot, letting him move you on his lap until he was satisfied with the way every part of you was pressed against him as close as possible.

“I get horny when I’m high,” he giggled as an explanation, but probably also as an excuse, when his hand immediately slipped under your shirt to draw small circles on the skin of your hips. So, you might have not come here with the intention of letting this thing with Seonghwa progress anywhere further than indulging his nerdier side, but you were confused, hurt, and suddenly letting him comfort you didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore.

Your evening had been ruined enough already, so it was easy to simply let yourself sink into his touch, enjoying the simplicity of spending time in someone’s company where you didn’t have to think beyond how you’d get home with him. Maybe the fact that Seonghwa’s and Hyunjin’s social circles didn’t really mingle, so the chances of seeing the latter again tonight were slim, did help.

Seonghwa was introducing you to his friends, Wooyoung and San, whose names you had already known by their reputation alone, but pretended not to out of politeness. You thought you were doing great, making polite conversation and laughing at their jokes even though most of them had some context you couldn’t understand since they were a pretty tight-knit group, and had been for years. But apparently you weren’t as smooth as you had thought you were because Seonghwa was pinching your side - a couple of times, judging by the impatient notion of the movement - to rip you out of your thoughts and get your attention.

“Who upset you angel?”

You froze for a second, whipping your head around to look at him, his stupidly perfect eyebrows scrunched in concern despite how drunk he clearly was.

“It’s nothing.” You waved it off, not wanting to get into it. You were looking for distractions, not yet another person to lament your stupid boy troubles to. “I just had a dumb fight on the way here and it’s pissing me off, although I’m trying not to let it.”

You tried to keep it short, not wanting to burden Seonghwa with things he probably didn’t care about. You got along, yeah, but you were far from calling him a friend already and there was probably no way he actually wanted to hear about your problems, despite looking concerned. And even if he did, you had barely talked about them with your closest friends, so you sure as hell wouldn’t with a near stranger, when all you wanted was to get said fight off your mind.

Seonghwa seemed to contemplate your words for a moment – or maybe he was just trying to make sense of them because he looked and sounded positively wasted and high off his ass. You weren’t quite sure which one it was until he bit his lip, hesitant to speak up.

“Just say whatever you want to say, Hwa. It can’t be worse than some things I’ve heard today already,” you sighed, encouraging him to speak up.

“That fight… was it with that Hyunjin guy?”

For a moment you were too shocked to reply, staring at him open-mouthed because if even his drunk and dazed mind had managed to come to that conclusion then you didn’t even want to know how much of this conflict had gotten through to your friends other than Chan.

“It’s- yeah. With him,” you ended lamely, not really knowing what else to say and since he’d already guessed it you might as well go with the truth. After all it had been Seonghwa who had been there last time when you had fought too, so he probably knew more than the people close to you did.

“I take it you did not talk it out?” he implored further, referring to the last fight where you had told Hyunjin that you would talk about it when he was sober, which ended up not happening. You only shook your head in confirmation to his words.

“Can I be honest with you?” the way he asked you knew that if you said no he wouldn’t hold it against you, but you had gone through so much shit the last weeks some part of you wanted someone to be honest and blunt.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, leaning on your arm to sit yourself up a bit higher and look at him properly.

“Truth is, I’ve been wondering how you spend so much time with all these guys and haven’t ended up fucking at least one of them.”

You had expected many things, but you hadn’t expected Seonghwa to say that. You burst out laughing, looking at him incredulously.

“Because we’re friends,” you emphasized, shaking your head in disbelief. “Nothing against friends fucking, but it’s not like that. They don’t think of me that way.”

Your mind immediately went back to the conversation you’d had with Chan and how he’d so nonchalantly mentioned that some of your friends had, indeed, been crushing on you at some point. And you were quite the liar as well, seeing as how you very much had wanted to sleep with Hyunjin, as friends or as more, so at some point at least one person in the group had thought of someone else that way.

Seonghwa seemed to have drawn a similar conclusion.

“Well, one of them clearly does.”

Obviously he meant Hyunjin, and you didn’t know if it made you feel better or worse that even your hook-up was under the impression that Hyunjin apparently was into you. Gnawing on your lip, you didn’t know what to tell him. You hadn’t sorted anything out and you had come to Seonhwa to have a good time, not to talk about your feelings for another guy.

“Tell you what,” Seonghwa finally sighed, seeing how you weren’t going to answer. He was sitting himself up straighter, gently pushing you off his lap and setting you on the space left on the lounge chair next to him. “I think you should go and clear your head. Whatever it is you guys got going on, you haven’t figured it out. As much as I’d enjoy sleeping with you, getting you to ride me is not the solution you seem to think it is. It’s only gonna make you feel more miserable. I’m a big boy, I can handle rejection. And I’m still holding you to that Star Wars marathon, sex or not.”

You couldn’t reply, still processing how drunk and high Seonghwa ended up giving you bette advice than anything you managed to come up with all evening.

“I like you. That’s precisely why I’m not going to sleep with you, because I think you should talk to that Hyunjin dude and at least give him a piece of your mind for being an absolute asshole to someone as stunning as you.”

If you had expected a lot, you had not expected this from Seonghwa. Despite the slur in his words he was making sense and it scared you how reasonable he was being, when he could’ve just used the chance to get you on his dick faster. But he was right, sleeping with him had sounded really smart in your head, but while the sex would make you feel good, the emotional mess you were in would only get worse. And while he didn’t seem to mind, it wasn’t quite fair to use him as a way to try and get over your crush.

“God, I wish I would have fallen for you instead, this is so much easier,” you cursed, gesturing between the two of you and Seonghwa shook his head with a snort.

“You don’t want that, angel, I’m here for good sex but there’s a lot of commitment issues to unpack.”

You rolled your eyes, whacking him on the arm. Now that you had, if not verbally, admitted to him, of all people, that you were in love with Hyunjin, everything somehow seemed much clearer and simpler.

“So, what am I supposed to do now, Hwa?” you implored, hoping that in his infinite weed-induced wisdom Seonghwa would be able to help you yet again, but it seemed his resources of deep advice were all dried up.

“I don’t know, get wasted? Have some really hot angry sex with that guy? Punch him in the dick? Although if it’s the latter I want to watch, ‘kay? Twitch stream it or something.”

You laughed incredulously, not missing how Seonghwa easily managed to make you feel much more relaxed and at ease even though the topic at hand never failed to make you anxious.

“I can’t believe I’m taking advice from you,” you quickly leant in, pecking him on the lips softly and very much innocently one last time, noticing the small pout on Seonghwa’s lips.

“If it goes south, my bed is still free.”

You threw him a thumbs up and rolled your eyes before politely excusing yourself from his friends. Despite what he’d suggested you weren’t about to look for Hyunjin right away. You definitely were not about to punch him in the dick – at least not yet. Rather, you were looking for Chan so he could take you home. Seonghwa’s words did make a lot of sense but tonight simply wasn’t the right time or the right place.

The house was bigger than you had guessed from the outside, a downright labyrinth and after declining a worrying amount of dubious drinks and strolling for thirty minutes without ever seeing the host himself you finally managed to at least find Chan. He hadn’t been picking up his phone so you’d had to resign to searching for him the old fashioned way, relieved when you finally spotted his mop of blond hair and his comforting voice in what seemed to be yet another guest room. He was sprawled on the bed with another familiar face sitting at the foot of the bed, head leant on the mattress. If you had thought Seonghwa was high you hadn’t been ready for Chan and Seokjin. You knew they were both older and had been friends for a while, Chan always ending up at the bar during karaoke Wednesdays to chat with Jin, but you hadn’t known what these two were usually up to when they spent time together. Hyunjin was there too, lying on a sofa with his phone in hand, but you were almost proud you didn’t even spare him more than a glance, almost staying indifferent.

Not knowing if Chan was in any headspace to have a conversation you decide to try your luck.

“Hey Chan, have you seen Chaeryoung?” you weren’t sure whether you should even expect an answer, but since Chan clearly wasn’t ready to take care of you in any way you decided your friend was the next safe option before you’d actually go back to Seonghwa and do something you might regret.

To your surprise he did mumble something in reply that vaguely sounded like ‘Hongjoong’, which you took as a good sign. Maybe this evening had gone the way it was supposed to for your friend at least. It also meant you couldn’t count on her now, but that was alright if it meant she was getting with the guy she’d been drooling over for months.

However, Chan couldn’t possibly drive you, which also meant you were pretty much out of options. As if he was reading your thoughts Chan slowly sat up, soft smile and eyes hazy, holding the blunt he was smoking in your direction.

“You look like you need this,” he offered as an explanation and you cringed a little inwardly at how obvious you were being time and time again.

“That’s very sweet, but no thanks,” you declined, knowing he only meant well, because he always had your best interest in mind. Contemplating what to do now you fell silent for a moment, feeling Chan’s scrutinizing gaze on you. You were hoping he was too out of it to notice that ever since you’d left the car earlier things had become even more of a mess, but you clearly underestimated him.

“What’s up? Wait why are you not with-“ even high he easily interpreted your panicked glare as a sign to shut up. You didn’t want to bring this topic up in front of Hyunjin yet again for the second time tonight, although since he was in the room as well you also couldn’t very well explain to Chan what had happened. Your mind was rattling with ways to come up with an explanation that would be so nondescript it wouldn’t give away your predicament, but it wasn’t necessary, because Chan caught up scarily fast, sending a quick glance towards Hyunjin before focusing back on you.

“You wanna go home?” You did, but Chan was halfway to getting up and there was no way you’d let him make such a phenomenal mistake and drive in this state just so you’d feel better.

“It’s fine Chan, don’t worry. I’ll just call an Uber or something,” you smiled softly to reassure him. “I can probably find someone to drop me off at campus and walk the res-“

“I can take her, you’re not driving tonight anyways Chan,” Hyunjin interrupted, a statement that didn’t leave any room for protest. It didn’t, at least, for Chan, who spoke up before you could decline.

“That’s a fantastic idea!” His enthusiasm was almost worrying, as was the speed with which he was throwing his car keys in Hyunjin’s direction, who caught them easily. The grin on Chan’s face was clearly meant to be conspiratory but he was anything but subtle and you were questioning who he was even directing it to, because you were definitely not on board with this plan of his to reconcile the two of you.

You were still scrambling for an excuse they would let slide but Hyunjin was already in front of you with the keys lazily dangling from one finger. It was only then it filtered through that he, too, was completely sober, just as you were.

“Alright. Let’s go home,” you admitted with a defeated sigh, hoping that all the horrible scenarios you were already making up in your head wouldn’t be coming true. Hyunjin did seem civil and calm, if not almost like the Hyunjin you knew, but it wasn’t enough to make you forgive and forget all the instances he had shown a whole different side of him and never apologized for it.

You were almost grateful he didn’t put his hand on the small of your back when he led you through the crowds of dancing and drunk people as he usually would have, because you weren’t sure you could have handled it.

The car ride was by far one of the worst ones you had ever experienced, which said a lot considering you had thought the same thing earlier tonight yet were already proven wrong. Earlier had been awkward and uncomfortable but at least Chaeryoung and Chan had been there. Now it was only Hyunjin with you in the passenger seat next to him, the silence spanning so awkwardly and tensely it felt almost tangible. You couldn’t shake the underlying feeling that, just like you, Hyunjin was itching to say something yet for some reason the words wouldn’t come. While you could usually read him you hadn’t been able to do that in weeks. You couldn’t fathom why he wasn’t talking. He didn’t seem like he wanted another confrontation, but you also knew that kind words or apologies took far more bravery, something you yourself currently couldn’t muster either.

You’d never been so glad to see your dorm building when Hyunjin finally parked the car. You mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ for driving you home before you almost fled from the car, thinking that you had finally evaded that awfully tense mood between the two of you. You were proven wrong when you heard another car door fall shut behind you, Hyunjin’s steps unmistakably hurrying after you. You squeezed your eyes shut shortly, taking a deep breath to brace yourself before you halted and turned around to face him. He looked so devastatingly beautiful with his long hair, smoky eyes and the smooth skin of his stomach visible. It hurt all the more because of the situation you were in and you wanted him to leave, certain that you couldn’t handle this.

“You can’t park here,” you stated dismissively, nodding towards where he’d left Chan’s car.

“I don’t care,” he huffed, but you thought that he couldn’t possibly be worked up from running a few steps after you, so it had to be something else. “If I don’t do this now it might never happen.”

You knew, of course, what he meant with ‘this’. The talk that was long overdue. What you didn’t know was what he was going to say, and if what he would say would make it worse. But you couldn’t just shut him down, not when you still wanted him back in your life. You terribly missed him and even you weren’t self-sabotaging enough to interfere with something that could possibly fix this. You did turn around and start walking again, guessing that if he wanted this talk he’d follow, and if he didn’t… you didn’t want to go there, even just hypothetically.

You could hear his footsteps distinctly behind you although he wasn’t talking until you were already walking up the staircase to your dorm.

“Why aren’t you with Seonghwa?”

You almost stumbled, ready to explode but the rational part of your brain that was thankfully still working told you that unlike the last couple of times, there was no maliciousness in his tone. You tried to calm yourself with a few deep breaths before answering.

“Would you like me to be?” You almost managed not to sound snappy.

“What do you think?” his answer came almost immediately, but you weren’t having it. He wanted to talk, so he would talk.

“No, Hyunjin, that’s not how this goes.”

He fell silent again and this time you weren’t sure if he’d lost his resolve. He still didn’t talk when you’d reached your door and unlocked it, stopping in the doorframe indecisively. Your hopes of finally fixing this were dwindling fast, but you weren’t planning on letting him in if this was all you would get. You should have just left, but one look at his eyes, incredibly sad, were enough for you to find yourself talking instead.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Hwa told me to get my head clear and talk to you truthfully. Which is good advice for the both of us, I think. Except we barely even talk anymore, so why did I think that would work?”

You didn’t really expect an answer, even though you knew you were desperately hoping for one. Neither did you leave, even though Hyunjin wasn’t saying anything and you felt an empty pit in your stomach open up. You didn’t know what else to say, and you wanted to leave him there but doing so hurt you probably as much as him, if not more, so you found yourself rooted to the spot despite better judgement. When you couldn’t take it anymore it was you who spoke again, and you were surprised to hear yourself sob when the words finally tumbled over your lips.

“Hyunjin, what happened to us?”

“I don’t know.” This time the answer came immediately, although meek and silent and barely a mumble, and it made you find your resolve again at last.

“You know damn well. You shouldn’t have fingered me on a park bench because you were horny, called me a box to tick on your bucket list and then pretended it didn’t happen.”

“I’m such an idiot.” He sounded thoroughly regretful, but you weren’t done yet now that you’d started.

“Yes, you are. You ruined our friendship because you tried pretending that mistake we made didn’t happen. I was ready to face that but you made me believe you don’t fucking remember.” Technically he had never told you if he had been lying and did remember after all, but by now you were certain even without that confirmation. Him not denying it was as good as one.

“And instead of owning up to it you turn into someone I barely even recognize, hurting me with petty words whenever you, I don’t even know, get jealous? Instead of just talking to me?!”

You were fuming and hurting and you felt wetness coating your cheeks now. The sight of Hyunjin before you would have broken your heart if he hadn’t already done that. He looked as miserable as you felt, hands clenched by his sides, his eyes portraying the same pain you had gone through for the last weeks.

“I thought I’d ruin our friendship if I told you I liked you.”

“So instead you fingered me to get it out of your system? Is that what that was?”

You had heard his confession loud and clear in the quiet hallways, despite his mumbling, but you couldn’t focus on it right now. Chan had been right, Seonghwa had been right, seemingly everyone but you had seemed to know and been correct in their assumptions. But what good did that do when him liking you meant him hurting you?

“I was scared! It would be awkward for you to have a friend be in love with you. You like guys like Yugyeom, or Jaehyun or Hwa-“ he didn’t quite manage to keep the venom out of his voice at the last one “-not me! I was scared out of my mind you would reject me and I’d lose you. But I was drunk that night, and you kept talking about other guys and I realized that eventually I’d lose you to one of them. I couldn’t bear the thought. I shouldn’t have kissed you, but you kissed me back and I thought if that’s all I can have then I’ll take it.”

Hyunjin was talking almost too fast to follow at this point, but for you every single word still felt like forever. It sounded too familiar, too much of a mirror of your own thoughts and feelings. Both of you thinking rushed, drunken kisses were all you could ever have. Both of you dreading the moment the other would be happy with someone else.

“I immediately regretted it. It’s not what I want from you. No, hold on, of course it’s what I want from you. But not like that. I want to hold you after and tell you that I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. God, you’re always so beautiful. I think… I think in a way losing you now showed me that I couldn’t take it.” He hesitated for a moment, stepping one step closer only to hastily move away again as if he barely could hold himself back. “I’m so sorry. I’m gonna leave. I’m- I’m so sorry I hurt you and said all those things to you. You deserve better than as shit of a friend as I have been.”

You were sobbing uncontrolled now, tears filling your eyes so much it was difficult to keep looking at Hyunjin with how much your vision was swimming. You realized he was misunderstanding your reaction because he was clearly as clueless as you and he didn’t understand that you were melting in every way possible because of his words, so you pulled him in, hands clenched in his shirt, face buried in his chest and thankful he immediately reciprocated the hug without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight.

“Hyunjin, I’ve been in love with you for the past three years,” you finally confessed, the words finally breaking free after having been caged in for so long. Your voice was suffocated by his shirt but you were sure he’d heard you just fine because he stiffened, fingers digging into your back.

“Can you say that again?” his voice was shaky and you giggled through your sobs, leaning back a bit with newfound confidence to look at him.

“I’m in love with you,” you’d thought those words so many times, but you never expected to be saying them to Hyunjin, especially not without feeling any fear of rejection.

“I- I think I should come in,” Hyunjin stuttered, disbelief flooding his voice but he was automatically stepping closer again, the softest smile on his face while his thumb gently wiped over your cheek, smudging the tears more than anything. You agreed, stepping back and finally letting him in. You closed the door after him carefully, discreetly wiping at your tears because you suddenly felt a bit embarrassed at how much his words had made you cry. He didn’t settle down anywhere, even though he’d been here a thousand times and usually made himself at home easily, so you rounded him and sat on the couch, hoping he’d follow your lead. You pulled your knees in and although he sat down in a safe distance, no part of him touching you, it was more of a tentative distance like your confessions were too fresh to quite believe them yet.

“Why did you always try and set me up with other girls?” he finally asked, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I never saw you hook-up with anyone and I just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“Every time you did that I was even more certain you’d never want me,” he spoke with a desperate frustration that would have been funny if you didn’t realize just how much you had been sabotaging yourself over the years. You had had good intentions, but you’d only accidentally been pushing him away. “Didn’t it hurt to see me with Chaeyoung? Because it sure as hell hurt to see you with Seonghwa.”

“Yeah, I almost didn’t notice,” you couldn’t help put supply sarcastically, not angry at him anymore for his stupid jealous behavior.

“Look, I’m so fucking sorry I behaved like an idiot.” You nodded in agreement, although you were smiling at him softly.

“Of course it hurt. But I told myself it’s what would help me get over you.”

“Did it help?”

“Hyunjin, if I knew how to get over you don’t you think I’d done that in the last three years?”

He looked at you for a moment, biting his lip and you could see he was contemplating something. It became clear when his eyes dropped to your lips for just the fraction of a second, but long enough for you to notice.

“Please just kiss me, I know you’re thinking about it.”

His hands were on your cheeks in a heartbeat, lips pressed against yours without hesitation, the distance between you forgotten.

“It’s all I can think about,” his words were mumbled into your kiss and you felt them as much as you heard them. Even though he was kissing you softly there was an urgency to it that resonated in how you were gripping onto his shirt, as if you both had been craving each other so desperately that you were scared of ever letting go again.

Your soft kisses turned hungry the second his teeth grazed your lower lip, your hands clenching and pulling him closer. You were utterly overwhelmed, your head swimming but you never wanted to stop kissing him again. His teeth and tongue were caressing your lips until you were panting softly and he used the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, finally deepening the kiss.

You almost moaned, the kiss so much more intense than it had been the last time because you both knew you had been fantasizing about this for too long. His hands, initially caressing your cheeks, slipped down to your neck and into your hair. The feeling had you shaking with anticipation and you tangled your own fingers through his hair. You pulled a little, just to see the reaction you could elicit, and when he groaned you completely disregarded holding back. The sound was sweet like honey washing down your body and you pulled your leg over his lap. His hands immediately grabbed onto your thighs and you yelped when he lifted you up with him, stumbling a little.

“Bedroom,” he stated, his voice a bit breathless and you could only nod, a husky and surprisingly needy ‘yes’ drowned out when he leant in to peck your lips again. He knew the way to your bedroom by heart, settling down on your bed a bit clumsily while pulling you on his lap again immediately. Wiggling a little to readjust your thighs on either side of his you relished in his reaction, a subtle shiver washing over his body. You moved your hips again, more purposely this time, grinding yourself down on his crotch in a slow rhythm. You could tell he was holding back by the way his knuckles pressed into the bedsheets turned white from clenching so hard. It only urged you on, your hands resting on his shoulders for stability while you pressed your thighs tighter, rolling your hips against him so closely you could feel him twitch inside his pants against your center. For a short moment you contemplated making him come just like that because watching his reactions you were sure you could, but Hyunjin stopped you, his hands settling on your hips when he finally managed to pull his thoughts together.

To your disappointment he readjusted you on his lap, moving you away from the hard bulge in his pants. You were pouting and he must have noticed because he chuckled, biting his plush bottom lip and moving some of the blonde strands already sticking to his forehead off his skin with one hand.

“Bunny, I’ve fantasized about sleeping with you so many times. I can’t come in my pants now.”

His words turned your pout into a giggle immediately, a hand dropping to his crotch and palming his bulge just enough to get a reaction out of him, his head falling back and focus lost again temporarily. His groans were the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard and you pushed him a little further, causing his self-restraint to crumble. Just the way your hands felt on him even through his pants was too much after he had dreamed about feeling you, having you touch him, so many times.

“Fuck. Fuck- you gotta stop, please,” his voice was somewhere between a groan and a whimper and you palmed him once more, not wanting to stop touching him before you gave in and stopping teasing, letting him catch his breath until he was looking at you again.

His eyes were flitting from your face to your body and back, as if he didn’t know which part of you to look at and it sent warm tingles all over your skin. His eyes were holding so much appreciation and warmth despite the fact that he was painfully hard, and you could tell he wanted to draw this out and savor every second he could finally have you on his lap and needy for him.

Even though you stopped touching him you couldn’t entirely stop teasing him. Grabbing onto the hem of your shirt you swiftly pulled it off, his gaze going to your chest immediately, still covered in a black bra.

His lip was pulled between his teeth again and you decided to push a step further, unclasping the bra and letting it slip off your arms and land on the floor.

The whimper falling over Hyunjin’s lips was divine. The hand still on your thighs was clenching, digging his fingers into your skin hard to resist the urge of ravishing you without holding back. You were driving him crazy with everything you did. The way you knew exactly how much you were testing his self-restraint, undressing on his lap, topless and nipples hard.

And as much as you loved his reactions, seeing how much you were affecting him even though you were barely doing anything, you could feel how wet you were and you were dying to have him touch you and fuck you into the mattress until your throat was raw from screaming his name.

You leant in, lips ghosting over his neck, hoping that your words would finally push him over the edge and kill his self-control.

“You can touch me, Hyunjin.” His name was a raspy breath on your lips, washing over his skin and his fingers clenched once more on your thigh before he was palming your tits. You bit down on his neck, his fingers pinching your nipple and eliciting a deliciously painful sensation. He clearly noticed, repeating the motion, teasing your hard nipples and caressing you until you were holding onto his shoulders again, arching into his hands, the kisses on his neck faltering.

“Hyunjin, you don’t need to hold back for my sake,” you whined, pushing him further, your voice not much above a whisper because you were so desperate to feel him. “You can do whatever you want to me. I trust you.”

The moment you said the words you realized it was true. You trusted him more than you had realized despite everything that had happened between you the last weeks. It was worth finally knowing that he ached as much for you as you had for him.

His reaction to your words wasn’t immediate. Instead he stilled for a second and or the shortest moment you were worried you might have done something wrong or overstepped some unknown line, but then his hand wrapped into the strands of your hair falling over your neck and Hyunjin pulled hard.

You gasped in surprise, the sting running straight to your center and causing your hips to buck, your neck bared to Hyunjin. But he completely ignored it, instead going straight to biting down your chest and finally sucking on your nipple. At the feeling of his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, tongue flicking over it, your brain shut down. A loud, raspy curse fell over your lips and it was the reaction that finally broke Hyunjin and made him throw all restraint away. The need to have you moan his name with his dick inside you was too overwhelming to draw this out, even if he planned to savor every moment as much as possible.

His hand ran up your thigh, diving under your skirt without hesitation and dropping to your wet panties, moving them aside easily. You didn’t have time to process what was going on before he had his fingers running up your slit and between your folds, coating them in your wetness enough so he wouldn’t hurt you, before he slipped both fingers into you.

It didn’t compare to last time, not by far. Either times you could feel he wanted you, but this time he was finger fucking you with the knowledge that you want him, you were wet for him and only for him and you trusted him. It made the curl of his fingers against your walls all the more delicious, wrecking your throat with moans.

“Open my pants,” he was barely forming a full sentence, focused on the way he was shoving his fingers deep inside you to feel you clench around him. “Need to be inside you.”

The words ran straight down between your legs and to his fingers pressing into you.

“Fuck, okay.” You weren’t sure if you were actually nodding or not, your fingers shaking when they settled on his belt, but you couldn’t manage much beyond fumbling with the buckle, fingers too weak and shaking too much to open it. You couldn’t concentrate on anything but the way he was fucking you open with his fingers, giving up after another clumsy attempt and slumping against Hyunjin instead. Your face was buried in his neck and when he pushed into you and spread his fingers you all but forgot anything but fucking yourself deeper onto his fingers. He met the movement of your hips, allowing you to pick the pace until you were a mess, his name etched into his skin with your voice repeatedly moaning it.

“Bunny, can you ride me, or do you want me on top?”

“Top,” you gasped out, clambering off of Hyunjin’s lap while he was slipping his fingers out of you. “Want you to fuck me.”

“God, you’re killing me,” Hyunjin cursed while fumbling a little himself to pull off his pants and underwear. You would have been glad about the payback of him struggling to get out of those tight pants after he’d tortured you with his looks all night, but right now you desperately wanted him, too much to care about any petty feelings.

He was already gripping the hem of that cursed top, eyes fully focused on you kneeling on your bed, and when he stilled you knew he caught on to how you were biting your lip to hold yourself back from saying something.

“Want me to keep this on?” His tone was way too cocky for how hard his dick was and how rattled he already looked, but somehow he still managed. You were still biting down on your lip, unwilling to admit just how much you liked that shirt on him but it wasn’t necessary. “Yeah, you do,” Hyunjin supplied instead with an impossibly cocky smirk, crawling up to you on your bed, surprising you when he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, a stark contrast to how confidently he had been teasing you just a moment ago.

“Knew I could drive you crazy showing up in this shirt.”

And it was true, but it wasn’t even half the truth.

“Hyunjin, you always drive me crazy.” It wasn’t the words you had expected to come out of your mouth but it was true and you realized you liked telling him those things. Now that there was nothing to be scared of you wanted him to know just how much you liked him, just how much he was on your mind.

He didn’t respond, instead pushing you back onto the mattress and kissing you so deeply it left no doubt he felt just the same way.

The kiss was a tangle of tongue and teeth, biting on your lips and your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Hyunjin’s own hand was on your waist to support you, and you could feel his length against your center. He was so incredibly close to slipping inside you, anticipation building in your stomach like liquid fire. You bucked your hips impatiently, causing him to moan into the kiss.

“Shit I don’t have a condom?” Hyunjin breathed, the words barely strung together, lips not separating from yours by more than a breath. “You okay with-“

“God, yes please.”

You knew you shouldn’t be doing this even though you were on birth control, but you wanted Hyunjin so much all your rational thoughts seemed to shut down around him.

It didn’t seem to be going much better for him either, because you had barely said the words when he finally pushed inside you. You were so wet it didn’t hurt at all, and he was stretching you just the right way, not quite painful but filling you up perfectly. Your hand was tangled in his hair, nails digging into his scalp slightly when he was fully settled inside you. He wasn’t moving, and through the haze in your mind you thought he was waiting for your okay until you looked at him and realized he wasn’t even focused on you, his eyes closed and shorter strands of hair falling in front of his face.

“Hyunjin,” you breathed, rolling your hips in emphasis because you desperately wanted him to move. He inhaled sharply, fingers on your hips digging into your skin.

“Hold on – wait. You feel so fucking good. I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle from slipping over your lips at the confession. Even with his dick inside you he managed to made your stomach flutter.

You gently slipped your hand from his hair, caressing his cheek and tucking the loose, sweaty strands of hair behind his ear.

“Take your time baby,” you softly spoke, the pet name flowing naturally, and you felt him shiver softly under your hands in response. “You already make me feel good like this.”

And you meant that, but the reassurance seemed to be enough because the next thing you knew was your nails digging into his shoulder blades when he almost bottomed out only to push back deep inside you. The gentleness from a second ago all but dissipated and when you’d told him you already felt good you hadn’t been prepared for just how good he could make you feel.

Hyunjin was leaning on his arms next to your head, lips ghosting down your neck, pushing into you at a relentless rhythm. You were trying to match his thrusts but he was fucking into you so good, hitting a spot that made the muscles in your legs contract.

You gave up after a couple more thrust, melting into the mattress instead, clutching onto Hyunjin with weak arms while he kept hitting that sweet spot perfectly with every push into you.

Hyunjin, ever the vocal person, kept gasping your name, slipping in praises matched with his thrusts and you couldn’t do much beyond reveling in the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress so well your whole body felt like it was on fire. Warmth was tingling all over your skin and you couldn’t even gather the words to tell him how well he was fucking you, how close you were.

But he could tell by the way you were gasping, moans swallowed by how breathless you were, clenching around his dick every time he rutted into you until he was struggling to hold back his own orgasm. His hand slipped between you, finger drawing soft circles on your clit and it was enough to finally topple you over the edge and have you see stars.

“Baby I’m gonna- fuck-“ your words turned into whimpers when your orgasm washed over you, skin tingling all over and blood rushing in your ears.

“’M gonna pull out-“ Hyunjin started and you were sure your nails were leaving marks by how hard you held him back in response, keeping his body pressed up against yours, nipples rubbing against his shirt with delicious friction.

“No, please come inside, wanna feel you come inside me,” you were whining, the sound foreign to your own ears but it was enough to convince Hyunjin, whose groan next to your ear was enough to send another wave of shivers racking down your body. You could barely register the unsteady rhythm he picked up again, dick twitching inside you when you felt yourself clench around him again, waves of your orgasm running through your body and finally pulling him over with you. You felt his warm cum spill inside you, his face pressing into your skin, a loud moan etched into your skin, followed by a string of praise. Hyunjin was telling you how good you felt, how much he loved fucking you, punctuated by uneven thrusts carrying him through his orgasm.

You didn’t know how long it took until you could gather any coherent thought again. Your skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, Hyunjin slumped on top of you with his face still buried in your neck and breathing hard. He was still inside you, his length gone soft and you knew if he pulled out you’d be making a mess of your bedsheets but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret having him come inside you, not when you had never felt more satisfied and thoroughly fucked out.

“Promise you’ll ride me next time, bunny?” Hyunjin almost purred against your skin, still out of breath but his hands were already drawing soft patterns on your chest, small kisses pressed against your neck.

“You’ve been thinking about that a lot, haven’t you?” you giggled, trying to suppress a shiver when his thumb brushed your nipple. “I can’t make promises if you make me this weak every time, Hyunjin. I feel like my legs are jelly.”

“Mh, did I fuck you that well?” Despite his crude words his tone was soft and teasing and you could tell by his tone that he was smiling. It made the butterflies in your stomach flutter yet again, and it seemed like they hadn’t calmed down ever since Hyunjin had confessed his feelings earlier. “I didn’t even try, I wonder what would happen if I did?”

When he pulled out of you you were almost embarrassed by the whimper escaping your mouth. You were still way too sensitive, and the feeling of his soft dick slipping out of you, followed by his cum was almost too much to take.

Your hands slipped off his back when he moved up to his knees, readjusting his position so he could run his lips down your collarbones and chest. Realizing where this was going when his hair was tickling your stomach and his hand trailed down to the inside of your thigh, that point already so sensitive you felt an involuntary shiver run through you, you quickly carded your hand through his hair to stop him.

“Hyunjin I don’t think I can-“ He stopped you with a wolfish grin, his fingers wandering from your thigh to your center, ghosting over it so softly he was barely touching you, but even that was already too much. “Fuck, Hyunjin, I’m so sensitive.”

“Want me to stop?” Despite his intentions concern laced through his voice and you knew he would stop if you said so right now. You didn’t say anything, just weakly shook your head while you felt his grin ghost over your skin, down your stomach until his teeth grazed your inner thighs, a hard shudder raking over your body. You knew you wouldn’t be able to take much but you wanted this so bad, didn’t want to let go of Hyunjin, for him to stop treating you as if you were the most precious thing on earth to him.

When he finally licked a soft stripe along your center, tasting himself and you mixed from your orgasms you almost thought you would black out. You were dizzy from your first orgasm, breath already raspy and Hyunjin’s lips and tongue were almost too much. He made sure not to run his tongue over your clit, careful not to send you in overdrive already. Instead, he resorted to soft kitten licks that only mixed his saliva with the mess he had already left between your legs and made you clench around nothing. His fingers were caressing your thighs, holding you in place just enough so you couldn’t clamp your legs shut.

You were gasping, struggling to keep up because all you could feel was the tingling sensations Hyunjin was sending all over your body with his tongue. You vaguely registered that you were whimpering, small little sounds that mixed with his name and your nails were digging into the bedsheets.

You weren’t even sure you could come again already, not when you felt too sensitive to handle Hyunjin’s tongue between your legs, but you were proven wrong when he finally let his mouth run up to your clit.

“Ohmygod I-“ you couldn’t finish the sentence properly, not sure where you would have gone with it either way, because Hyunjin’s lips were wrapped around your clit and he was sucking and you were seeing stars and you couldn’t hear how he was praising you over your desperate gasps.

It took a while before you realized Hyunjin was splattering your neck and chest with soft kisses, meant to caress and help you calm down until you weren’t shaking anymore, his hands lazily wrapped around your waist.

“You good?” he finally asked with a sweet smile when your gaze was finally focused on him, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he knew just fine that you were more than good thanks to him.

You took a moment to let your eyes run over him and take in every detail, the loose strands of black hair fluttering into his face and sticking to his forehead. His eyes, sparkling with admiration that made your heart melt. The beauty mark under his eye, his softly sloped nose. His lips, swollen and glistening wetly, pulled into a smile that was so much Hyunjin that you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in and pressing a light kiss to his mouth.

“What do you think?” you mused in response finally, pressing another quick peck to his lips, a smile gracing yours when he whined when you pulled away.

You thought that you could stay like this with him forever, just Hyunjin and you together, so clearly head over heels for each other that you didn’t understand how both of you hadn’t seen it sooner. But the moment was broken up when the front door banged open so unceremoniously you could almost feel the dent in the wall, and your name was shouted through the dorm room way louder than it should be in the middle of the night.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, scrambling out from under Hyunjin, grasping for something to pull on and settling on his shirt because it was the first thing you could grab that would cover not just your chest but the entirety of the sticky mess he had left between your legs. Not that covering it up would discard any doubt of what you had just done. It was still highly uncomfortable and you were pulling down the shirt over your legs as far as it would go from where you were sitting, while Hyunjin was desperately trying to put on his underwear without falling and breaking his neck. He looked even worse than you probably, everything from his hair to his lips giving away that he’d just had sex, if him only being in his underwear wouldn’t have already done so. But there was no time to fix anything else before Chaeryoung, followed by Felix, Seungmin and Chan burst into your room, all of them cramming in together. Both Chaeryoung and Chan were very clearly coming straight from the party, one drunk and the other still very stoned, but Felix and Seungmin had clearly come to pick them up. They were completely sober and thus assessed the situation in front of them way faster than the other two.

Felix had the decency to at least blush, although he still didn’t hold back the grin sneaking on his face. Seungmin, much worse, fished money out of his pocket and casually handed it to Chan.

“Bro, I told you I’m not betting on this!” the other replied, his whole reaction lacking gravity because he was just ridiculously calm even though his words sounded like he would have protested stronger under different circumstances.

Seungmin just shrugged and pocketed his money again, but you didn’t have time to dwell on the fact that he had clearly wanted to bet on whether you were sleeping with Hyunjin or not, because Chaeryoung finally showed her very belated reaction by simply screeching at a volume that was nothing but irritating and could be interpreted in many ways. It almost drowned out the beeping of Seungmin’s phone, who nonchalantly turned the screen towards you and Hyunjin so you could see the messages in the group chat.

“Can’t believe you two were even worse than Jisung and Karaoke Girl. Jeongin says ‘fucking finally’ by the way.”

You didn’t need to read the messages to know that everyone in your group knew about you and Hyunjin before you yourself had even properly processed the entire night, but it was just as well. You had already been annoyingly touchy before, and this way at least they had time to prepare for the fact that there was no way you would keep your hands off each other ever again now.

#hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #hwang hyunjin #guys im SO sorry i initially forgot about the taglist #i was posting this at work when my boss wasn't in the room lmao i was STRESSED #i hope i didnt forget anyone!!

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