#SKZ song fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

minkieater · 5 months ago

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one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

ONE ➺ the city masterlist | next as a junior at NYU, you just landed your dream internship. you didn't think a shot at your career would come with secrets, mistakes, and drama... at what age do you really start to grow up?

it's that time - my series is here!! my babies!! my friends!! hope everyone enjoys, all of our friends from luck, carousel, and three fates are here!

w. alcohol consumption, relationship issues, a bunch of fucked up college kids doing fucked up college kid shit MDNI 18+ wc. ~12k

♩— the city, the 1975 “yeah, you wanna find love then you know where the city is.”

after five long hours of drowning in some sort of painful claustrophobia you finally peeled your headphones off your ears, immediately taking a hand up to your ear to soothe your cartilage piercings that still haven’t healed after years of having them.

past eleven, it was far later than when you should’ve left. you told yourself you’d only spend an hour in the studio tonight, but that thought was long gone after the first hour of being in the leather chair, especially after the first frustrating ten listens of your most recent project. with a tch you rip your hard drive out of the system and pack up, with all intentions of heading out to catch the train back to your apartment across manhattan.

11:21 pm wooyo: come out of your cave and come to prince wooyo: its friday

you yawn, rubbing your eyes vigorously — you need to invest in a pair of blue light glasses. pulling your bag over your shoulder, you respond with a quick ‘be there in 20’.

as you turn to pull the door open, someone else opens it from the other side, “oh shit, my bad.”

a small sound of shock left your lips, feet nearly leaving the ground in panic. your eyes cross the possible perpetrator, the man is massive and his voice is deep. you froze for a moment, arm still held out in front of you to open the door, stuck somewhere between fight or flight. you snap it back to join your other hand in holding the strap that hugged your shoulder.

“i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles, ring-clad fingers jutting out in apology, “i didn’t think anyone else would be here this late.” you almost shudder at the deep rasp to his voice, eyes shifting to his oversized hoodie, baseball cap tucked under the hood, paired with baggy jeans that overflowed his seemingly new sneakers.

“i was just leaving anyway,” you try to sound nonchalant but your voice gives you away, sounding quiet, small and embarrassed. your whole face feels hot as you maneuver around him and out the door, basically running down the dimly lit hallway.

as you stepped out of the double doors of your school’s recording studios, you gave yourself a moment, head dropping backward. staring into the starless sky, you take a deep, controlled breath. you let the air fill your lungs, let it slow your heart rate, panic gradually leaving you with every exhale. when you needed an escape, a moment to yourself, something to ground you when your mind felt too much to handle, you could always count on staring up at new york city’s perpetually void sky.

you shouldn’t find comfort in decades of pollution masking the stars, something you missed so much from home, maybe the thing you missed most. but that could be the comfort in it, something so different, still feeling so new after living in the city for two years. change is what you craved, what you needed, it’s why you chose to go to NYU in the first place. coming from a small town in the midwest, you knew early that your dream of being a music producer couldn’t happen there. you’ve known that since you were fifteen, when you made the plan to move to the city of dreams in the first place.

but yet in times like these, when you need a moment of staring up at the sky, you miss the stars staring back down at you.

you shake your head and get to walking — the walk would be more like 25 rather than 20, but knowing wooyoung, he wouldn’t see your text for another 15 anyhow. you pulled your bag a bit tighter on your shoulders and kept the headphones off for your walk, giving your ears a much needed break.

“there she is!” wooyoung’s voice is booming, louder than the heavy music the bar is playing, and yunho waves over to you from beside him. he hands you a beer as you sit with the two, hoping to take the edge off the last five hours, but all you can think of is the project you left unfinished.

“…you’re working on your senior thesis already?” wooyoung’s eyebrows are raised, gaping at yunho, “the semester’s barely started!”

“do you know how long it’ll take me to research?” yunho responds, bringing his bottle up to his lips, “i’m studying how the internet has changed the music industry, i need to start now.”

“you both are so dedicated,” wooyoung’s words spill out in a whine as his hands cover his face, “i still don’t even know if i really want to major in film.”

“you have plenty of time to figure your shit out, woo,” you smile, patting his shoulder. you swear wooyoung has been the same carefree, partying college boy since he walked into his dorm on the first day. like yunho, he’s been dragging you out of your books and your projects to live a little since you met freshman year.

“what had you trapped all night?” yunho turns his attention to you. the bar stool is uncomfortable under you, making you shift your legs up to the higher bar, “another project?”

you huff out a sigh, “for my EMP class.”

“ah, EMP,” yunho nods and flips his phone face up, checking his notifications, “oh shit, joong and mingi are stopping by.”

you raise an eyebrow and wooyoung smiles, “damn, i haven’t seen them since that one night at jeongin’s!”

“who are these people again?” you question, fingers mindlessly peeling at the label on your beer bottle, watching the tattoos littering your fingers stretch under the movement.

“they’ve only been on the roof a few times i think, they know chan,” wooyoung nods like you should know this already. you typically did know almost everyone who came to your boyfriend’s infamous rooftop parties, but it makes sense for one or two people to slip past you every now and then. they usually end up being friends of your boyfriend’s three roommates, chan, felix, and seungmin.

“they’re both in the same major as you. i would’ve thought that you’ve had classes together, but they’re older than you, i guess,” yunho shrugs.

“you’re older than me,” you counter with a look to prove it, bringing your beer to your lips.

the three of you met in your freshman year, taking the same film scoring sound design class, where somehow your degrees overlapped. where you went to study music technology, wooyoung, a junior like you, studied film production, and yunho, a senior, studied music history.

minutes later wooyoung is waving over two guys you’ve never seen before, a tall one and another shorter one. your eyes squint in focus before they nearly burst out of your head in shock. realization hits you and your body burns in embarrassment, your heart becoming alarmingly loud in your chest.

they stop at the bar and you quickly explain your situation with the tall one to your friends. wooyoung’s head leans back as a fit of laughter consumes him and yunho’s signature smile that only appears at someone else’s expense comes into view.

“that’s right,” yunho nods in remembrance, “you both are always cooped up in that damn studio, you sure you’ve never met him before?”

you quickly shake your head as you notice them approaching, pushing your discomfort to the back of your head, trying to seem like you haven’t noticed their arrival.

“god, this place never changes,” the smaller one is shaking his head as the two of them stand around the table, setting his drink down on the stained wood.

“that’s it’s charm,” yunho responds as he raises his hand, “how you been joong?”

they all take turns dapping each other up as you sit quietly, observing, until the two pairs of eyes turn to you. the taller one introduces himself as mingi, the smaller one hongjoong.

“hey, didn’t i just see you?” mingi’s eyebrows furrow as if his eyes were tricking him, “you go to NYU right?” his finger points to you, one of his eyebrows lifting in question. wooyoung and yunho immediately turn to you, amusement written all over their faces.

you could feel the heat from the tips of your ears as you nod, “ki, i’m a junior, music tech major.”

“no way! we’re tech majors too,” he smiles, pulling his beer to his lips and turning back to yunho, “yun, how’s the thesis been?”

the rest of the night was spent with you mainly being quiet, observing and listening to them converse. you’d only asked a few questions, added input when you felt necessary, and laughed when the situation called for it. your discomfort from earlier eased to some degree by the end of the night, but you felt like the majority of your time at prince was spent on auto-pilot.

mingi and hongjoong shared little about themselves, but you picked up on a few things throughout the night. they’re both seniors at NYU, studying music technology like you. they’ve also been interning for the same record label since the end of their junior year, both hoping to land a permanent position at the label before the end of their senior year.

yunho and mingi have been friends since they were young, both attending the same high school and moving to new york city just after they graduated. hongjoong is born and raised in new york, you could tell as much from his accent, but met mingi his freshman year in one of their classes and they’ve been close since.

where mingi was more quiet and reserved, hongjoong was talkative, easily dominating the conversation. he was loud about it, too. with eyeliner, a shaggy mullet and multiple ear piercings, hongjoong seemed anything but sweet off first glance. but the second he smiled paired with the sweet, melodious laugh that left his lips, you knew his appearance had nothing to do with his personality. something you should know by now in the creative department of NYU.

by the end of the night your social battery was below zero. your goodbyes to your new and old friends were quick, exhausted from your hours spent in the studio and the beers did nothing but tire you more. by the time you were back in your apartment, another 20 minute walk from prince, you’d hoped and prayed your roommate was sound asleep. you couldn’t bear another word out of your mouth.

in the shower you were playing the night back in your head like a movie, and you swore the weight of uneasiness didn’t fully leave you until you were settled in bed. trying to distract yourself by turning on the tv, your mind drifts once more, but instead of your project it was your new acquaintances, your seniors, two people you could learn so much from… it didn’t take long for your brain to empty itself and sleep to consume you.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“are you coming this friday?” your boyfriend asks, and you can hear the impatience in his voice, no doubt he’s feeling neglected after your busy week.

“i don’t think so, i still have so much to do on this fucking song. it’s missing something still and i can’t figure it out,” you huff, running a hand through your hair.

“that’s okay, i understand, what about tonight? you gonna be there late?”

“i think so, i’m sorry, i’m so stressed i think i’m just gonna go home and crash.”

“please, baby? every night this week you’ve been there and you’re always too tired to come over after,” he’s whining over the phone now, and your eye literally twitches as he speaks.

“jeongin, i need to get this done, i don’t know what else to tell you,” you snap as your fingers come up to the bridge of your nose, placing your elbow on the desk, “you have a key to my place, use it.”

“is riley home? i don’t want to just show up unannounced, what if san’s there?”

you sigh, “we’ve been together for two years innie, and she’s known you longer than i have. i’m sure she’ll be happy to see you even if san is there. i’m almost done, i’ll be home soon, okay?” you lean back in the chair, eyes closing, bringing your free hand to rub at your mascara-less eyes.

“okay! i’ll pick us up something to eat, what do you want?” your eyebrows furrow in frustration and you open your eyes to look down at the monitor again. all you can see is unfinished work, and your stress level goes through the roof.

you take the phone off your ear and let a breath of frustration out before answering, “whatever you want. i’ll see you soon, love you,” you waited for him to say it back before you hung up the phone. you set it face down on the desk, bringing your headphones back over your ears, planning to finish up some last tweaks before you went back home for the night.

the first day of your freshman year you walked into your cramped dorm room and were met with the human embodiment of new york. she was the perfect introduction to the city, the smallest yet loudest bundle of sunshine you’d ever encountered, a born and raised city girl. riley was a few inches over five feet, kind pale eyes and long dark waves framing her pretty face. lucky for you, she came with a built in friend group.

jeongin, felix, chan, and seungmin, four guys who had moved to the city right after they graduated high school. the four of them had met riley randomly at a rock concert over the summer, enamored by the fact that she’s a local and also majoring in theatre at NYU in the fall. they were quick to friendship, riley and the four boys, until you were introduced.

from the first conversation you had with the four, your friendship fell right into place. it felt like you had known them your whole life. all four of them were funny, kind, accepting, and the best of all, gorgeous. the first time you saw jeongin you could attest that love at first sight is a real phenomenon. it didn’t take long after you guys had met for you to start dating, he was something out of your dreams. kind, respectful, funny, doting, he checked off every box on your 18 year old list.

for being together nearly two years, at this point he is a true extension of you. you lived at his place half the time, you were always out in the city together, in the middle of washington square park on picnic dates, your relationship was movie-esque. everyone who knew you, knew jeongin, and vice versa.

you didn’t hear anyone come in, and you sure as hell didn’t expect anyone to interrupt your focus as you felt a small tap on your shoulder. ripping your headphones off isn’t an understatement as you shriek, terror and surprise rushing through you like electricity.

he can’t help but engulf himself in a fit of laughter while your eyebrows disappear into your hairline, your mouth agape as you clutch your thrashing heart over your hoodie.

“mingi! jesus christ, are you gonna scare the shit out of me every time you’re here?” you bark out, breath heavy and unstable, irritation clear in your voice.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i knocked but you didn’t hear. didn’t know how else to interrupt,” he counters, still smiling, waving his hands in apology.

“did you not see the red light for in use outside the door?” you ignore the amused smile across his face, still clutching your heart as if it’d burst out of your chest if you didn’t.

“i did, i took a peek to see if you’d be in here again,” he shrugs, “it’s late and you’re in the same room as the other day, i was curious.”

your expression softens, and you ignore the sweat that was quick to form in your palms. “oh,” you mutter, so quiet it was almost inaudible, “well here i am.”

a small smile sits on his face as he moves closer, peering over your shoulder to look at the monitor, “what’s this?”

“a project for my EMP class, did you take it?” you shift your focus to your monitor again, joining him in overlooking your project.

he nods and turns to pull up another chair from beside the desk, “last year, what professor?”

you curse your cheeks as they heat up on their own, “lee.”

he makes a disappointed face, his lips thinning into a line, “that’s unfortunate.” he nods his chin to the monitor, “let me hear what you’ve got.”

“it’s not even close to being finished,” you argue, the familiar heat at the tips of your ears joining your cheeks in competition of which can expose your embarrassment first.

he shakes his head, “don’t care.” not even entertaining your argument, he reaches for the headphones that are placed around your neck.

you clutch onto them quickly and he halts his movement, looking up at you, startled at your reflex. “damn, give me a second,” you say with a quick laugh, pulling the headphones from around your neck and handing them to him.

you press play and his head nods to the beat as he listens, his eyebrows furrowed again, this time in focus. you take a moment to really take in his appearance — full lips, short, black and blonde ruffled up hair, a perfectly straight nose… you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

he takes the headphones off as the song finishes, snapping you back to reality. “it still needs some tweaks but it’s good, you’re probably at a B minus right now.”

your jaw drops, “tweaks? a B minus?”

he laughs, “i thought you said it wasn’t even close to being done yet? here, let me help,” he places a headphone up to his ear opposite of the side you’re sitting on, pressing buttons on the keyboard. “i like the synths, very atmospheric, but you’re missing depth,” he sucks a breath in through his teeth, “a deeper bass line, it needs to be more intense.”

he plays with your song for some time, listening and nodding his head to the beat. you stare at him in his element with damn near stars in your eyes— your eyebrows are raised, mouth hung slightly open, you’re nothing short of in awe at this essentially random man, your senior who interns at a record label, helping you with your project.

he makes a finishing nod as he hands your headphones back to you, ushering you to listen. his small tweaks changed your song entirely, no shot you weren’t getting an A now.

“lee is big on emotion, layering and harmonies and all that,” he says as you pull the headphone off your ear.

you start, “mingi, i-“

he leans back, arms folded behind his head with a cocky smile, “i know, i know, you can’t thank me enough, i’m really good at what i do, thank you very much,” he’s joking when he cuts you off, but it’s so true it’s nauseating. he did in 20 minutes what would’ve taken you 2 days, the raw talent exuding off of him only makes you more curious.

you can appreciate the love he has for his craft, the craft you share. he seems to love it enough that he can pick apart your creation and put it back together better than you did in the first place. it makes you want to pick his brain, find out why he’s here, why he loves music, what he grew up listening to.

“i was actually going to say undo everything you just did because it sounds like dog shit,” you deadpan, wiping the cocky smile right off his face, making the corners of your mouth lift up in amusement.

“that hurt my feelings,” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest instead.

you giggle, “can’t let you get too cocky.”

he chuckles, patting his thighs before he stands, “you still have to work on your use of effects, create more of a sense of urgency in the bridge. i’d say now you’re at an A minus though, couple more tweaks and you’re golden.”

you nod, sitting up a bit straighter, “thank you, that was actually a huge help. i’ve been at this for almost a week now.”

he heads toward the door and your brain is scrambling trying to figure out a way to get him to stay, or at least come back again soon.

“you coming to chan’s this friday?” he beats you to it as he opens the door, peeking at you over his shoulder.

you snap your head up at that, “uh, yeah, i’ll be there.”

the corners of his mouth turn up in a wide smile, “sweet, ill see you there then.”

“thanks again!” heat rises to your cheeks as soon as the door shuts — your palm slaps your forehead. at least jeongin will be happy that you’re coming friday.

shit, jeongin! you already forgot about dinner. you quickly stood and yanked your hard drive out, quickly packing up your backpack to run to the subway station. you felt lighter right now than you had in a week, a newfound optimism taking over.

you felt closer to finishing your project instead of being in the middle of it, you’re on more of a friendly basis with someone whom you share your craft, plus he’s more talented and experienced than you in it … it’s unknown territory for you since you didn’t have many friends in your major.

your leg bounced the entire train ride home with a silly smile on your face, high off the adrenaline rush from the breakthrough. the train was surprisingly not packed, only a couple of people sharing the same car as you. it’s not usual for any subway car to be somewhat unoccupied, let alone peaceful in new york city.

the adrenaline died down a fair amount in your walk from the station to your apartment, replaced with the comfort of your boyfriend and best friend waiting for you upstairs.

the scent of oregano and fresh bread met you in the staircase, meaning pizza was waiting for you in the kitchen. as you made your way inside your apartment you found riley, san and jeongin standing around the counter in the midst of conversation. you set your backpack down on the table to signal your arrival and the three turn their attention to you.

“you’re finally home! what’s got you cheesing so hard?” riley asks, handing you a plate as you turn the corner to grab a piece of pizza.

jeongin kisses your cheek twice as you open the box, “feeling better about the song?”

“yeah, i had a major breakthrough, actually,” that same silly smile is still plastered across your face as you pull a piece out onto your plate.

riley’s eyes thin, shooting you a questioning look as she takes a bite of her slice. she’s always been able to see through you, read between the lines, hear what you weren’t saying, see the mask you wore when you were hiding your feelings like it was physically there.

“then the pizza is celebratory, i just so happened to get your favorite kind from your favorite place,” jeongin smiles, bumping his hip with yours as you take a huge bite of the thankfully still hot pizza. pepperoni has always been your favorite, but the first time you had any pizza in new york your life changed for the better. everything in new york is better than it is at home.

you thank him the best you can with your mouth full, then give him a close lipped smile, hiding the food in your mouth.

“we were just talking about the roof on friday,” riley starts, leaning against san’s sturdy build that impressed you every time you saw it, “you feel like going?”

you pause for a moment remembering your promise to mingi, “i actually can now that i’m pretty much done with the song.”

“yes!” jeongin’s fists shoot for the sky, wide smile on his face, “it’s supposed to be a big one, chan got the whole soccer club to come.”

“just the club? not the violets?” san perked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“the violets are probably all busy, soccer season and football season already started,” riley waves her hand, “the clubs aren’t that serious.”

“i think they’d be offended if they heard you say their season isn’t serious, baby,” san’s gaze turned downward to riley, a sparkle in his eyes that was too bright for two people just sleeping with each other. you made a mental note to unpack that, just as you had to discuss the night you had.

“maybe if they didn’t get hammered on a random rooftop mid-season i'd be more likely to consider them serious,” riley’s hands lifted to her shoulders, eyebrows lifted in an oh well expression.

“touché,” san responded through a yawn, voice sounding breathy and relaxed. riley immediately yawned after him, a somnolent sound paired with stretching her arms.

riley and san shared a mirrored look, seeming to read each other’s minds without verbally saying a thing.

“we’re gonna head to bed, goodnight,” riley announces and turns for the hallway without a second glance, san bids you a small wave goodnight behind her.

you and jeongin both call goodnight after them and he turns to you, moving a stray hair off of your face, “i’ve missed you.”

“missed you too,” you sigh, “‘m sorry i snapped at you earlier,” you set your plate down and lean into his front, laying your head on his shoulder with your eyes closed. exhaustion hits you as soon as your eyelids shut, you could fall asleep on his shoulder if you needed to. his hands immediately find purchase on your hips, giving them a squeeze.

“don’t apologize baby, you’ve been so stressed and working so hard,” he kissed the side of your head, pulling up a hand to scratch at your scalp, “gonna be the best producer in all of new york.” you groan in appreciation. you should’ve had him here days ago. that’s always been his thing — the magic touch.

where riley could see through you, practically hear your thoughts and feelings exactly for what they were, jeongin could feel them. with a hand in your hair or kiss to the cheek, he could feel what you were feeling. it was your favorite thing about him, his ability to know what you needed and help you through it without you having to ask.

“you tired?” he asks, and you lift your head to look at him, then shook your head quickly. he smiles at your sleepy eyes, and like always, he knew what you wanted. he brought his hands to your hips again to twist your back against the counter, kissing you softly at first. he slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring until you brought your hands to his hair and tugged, silently begging for more. he swiftly slid the pizza box across the counter and picked you up by the backs of your thighs, placing you on the countertop without breaking the kiss.

“mm, maybe i am tired, we should head to bed,” you say between kisses, arms placed around his neck.

he groans into his words, “yeah, lots of sleeping, we should do that,” you’re both smiling into the kiss, and you squeal as his hands scoop under your ass, picking you up to bring you to your room. sleep could come later, right now you just wanted him.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday comes faster than you thought it would. your classes breezed by, your song finally finished and turned in, and you were impatiently waiting for tonight. normally you aren’t as excited for the rooftop parties your boyfriend and his roommates threw, they were a dime a dozen, but the anticipation for tonight has been at the front of your mind all week.

“you dressed up? i thought we were dressing cozy like we always do!” riley stands at your doorway, hands at her sides with her eyebrows furrowed. she had on ripped jeans, an oversized hoodie, and a pair of white sneakers. her hair was tied up in a bun, glasses sitting on her nose.

you looked down at your bodysuit, jeans and sandals, and then looked back up to her, “this is somewhat cozy!”

“i’m putting on a different shirt and doing my hair,” she states and leaves your room in a hurry, and you look in the mirror at your side. you did your hair and makeup, something you only do once in a while for jeongin’s parties. you’d usually be in a different version of riley’s exact outfit.

“i guess i did dress up,” you mumble to yourself and shrug, your small smile returning on your lips. you were in a good mood, actually having enough energy to put effort into getting ready, so your appearance reflected that.

you made your way to the kitchen to pour a couple shots for you and your roommate, getting the pregame started. music blasted throughout your apartment, thanks to the surround sound stereo system you installed with the help of riley and jeongin.

more so you got frustrated trying to install them yourself and made jeongin do most of it while riley watched anxiously.

you took the first shot back quick, needing to start easing your nerves before heading out for the night. jeongin’s parties were famously never small, with the help of his three roommates they were friends with half of NYU’s campus. from the arts department to the finance bros, they knew everyone, and everyone knew them. even the wealthiest students that attended NYU knew at least one out of the four. living in a huge apartment in soho, thanks to seungmin’s father paying half their rent each month, they had the luxury of their own private rooftop.

some of your best memories of the past two years have been on that rooftop… huge parties, small get-togethers, nights between you and jeongin only. you would prefer that to a random frat party any day. even in the winter time, with tents and heaters, you’d still be on that rooftop until all hours of the night. but as you’ve grown older, classes have become harder, your workload more intense, nights on that rooftop have become less of a common occurrence. you think that’s why your stomach is bubbling up with tension, you don’t have the comfort of knowing you were there just the other day. it’s been long enough to where you feel like just someone showing up rather than the host’s girlfriend of two years walking around the rooftop like she owns it.

“okay, i’m ready now — oh no, you poured shots?” riley pouts, setting her hands down on the counter. now she wore a black bodysuit, her dark hair in soft curls around her face. you know by now that her resolve is weak despite her complaints, so you slide the two shot glasses toward her.

“to riley getting laid tonight!” you yell as you lift up your shot glass, and she lets out a quick laugh before clicking her glass with yours and shooting it back.

“why tonight? i’ve been fucking san for months,” she says, her face scrunching up in disgust from the taste of the vodka.

“by chan, ri,” you announce in a tone that this information was obvious, smiling like a maniac at your roommate. this makes her eyes roll, heat rising to her cheeks. “come on, it’s been years of mutual pining between the two of you, i don’t understand why it’s not happening when it’s clearly meant to!”

“please,” she waves a hand and picks up her phone, “he literally has a girlfriend, ki. we keep having the same conversation, it’ll happen when it’s meant to.”

you tap your second shot glass on the table to alert her to take her second shot as well. she grabs onto the top of the glass and pauses for a second, “maybe i really should stop sleeping with san.”

“to riley discontinuing her meaningless sex relationship and pursuing true love!” you raise your shot glass again and she clinks hers with yours, an emotion you can’t read in her eyes before she takes it back.

“meaningless sex is crazy,” she lets out a breath of air after the shot, “you know it’s more than that, we just talked about this.”

you grab your phone off the charger and slip it into your purse, “i also know you’re in love with chan, we just talked about that, too. no more meaningless sex, but instead sex with love behind it.”

she’s smiling as she lifts up her phone again, “and what about you, huh? you’re about to see your new boyfriend at your actual boyfriend’s party.”

your eyes snap up, jaw immediately dropping with a gasp. you filled her in on what happened in the studio the other night, she hasn't let you rest for a minute because of it. “don’t even joke like that, it’s not like that and you know it.”

“just like it’s not just meaningless sex with san and i,” she sings, “i’m kidding, but i can’t help but connect the dots and i do feel like maybe you’re a little excited to see him again,” she puts her fingers up in a pinch, squinting an eye.

you respond with your lips pursed, your eyes lowered to slits.

“in a completely platonic and innocent way!” her hands go up in defense instead.

“am i excited for the chance to talk to someone older than me with more experience in my major, who’s really talented and can hopefully give me tips to get me further in my career? yes, of course i am,” you run a hand through your hair with a huff of air, “it just so happens that he’s a man.”

“who’s six feet tall and probably sexy.”

“riley!”

“i’m sorry! let’s go, uber’s here.”

the rooftop is just how you left it. a mass of bodies standing, talking, drinking, maybe even dancing to the song playing through the speakers. fairy lights still hang over the roof, intertwined in a way that looks intentional, but you still aren’t sure if it is. the bar is in the same place, they got a dj, nothing has changed at all and it helps to put you at ease. along with the vodka you drank before you left.

“no way! riley and kiki!?” you hear him before you see him, a slightly taller sunshine maneuvering his way towards you and your smaller sunshine.

“lixie!” riley exclaims, throwing her arms around his neck in a hug as he approaches you, “i’ve missed you! how’s the foot?”

“honestly better now, just waiting on clearance from the doctor before i can start performing again,” he smiles as he sticks his leg out, lifting his pant leg and twisting his ankle around to show you it’s mobility. the smile on his face is infectious, it immediately makes you smile, too.

“there she is,” you feel hands around your waist and a pair of plump lips pressed to your cheek, “you look so fucking beautiful and i haven’t even seen your face yet.”

you turn around and press your lips to jeongin’s, smiling into it, “i felt like dressing up.”

“and i feel like taking it off of you,” he whispers into your ear, making a hand go over your mouth as you choke out a giggle. his messy curls lay wispy across his forehead, the familiar copper flips peeking out from the nape of his neck. he was in a big t-shirt, baggy jeans and sneakers, your favorite look on him after just plain sweats.

“at least get me a drink first,” you licked your lips, tasting the cheap beer from when you kissed him. it was usually like this between you two, flirting like you had just started dating yesterday, the off days where you were stressed and short tempered were few and far between.

“you’re coming with me, i want you to meet some people,” he grabs your hand and starts for the crowd of people. you give riley and felix a wave behind you, jeongin not giving you any time for small talk as he starts pulling you towards the bar.

you passed faces you recognized, giving small waves and ‘hey!’s as you followed behind him. you’ll get to socializing with everyone you know later.

at the back end of the rooftop was a stand up bar, one seungmin’s dad gifted to them without a doubt. everyone had the option to bring their own alcohol, which a lot of people did, but seungmin loved the classy feeling of having an almost full bar at his parties. it was mainly his name that was passed around for the legendary parties, so he had to live up to expectations.

“hey jinnie,” you smile as you approach the bar, completely ignoring the line that was formed in front of it. still hand in hand with jeongin, no one batted an eye. it’s one thing to have a bar at a college party, but to have a bartender comfortable serving alcohol without showing ID? impossible to find. hyunjin, on the other hand, has never minded for a moment — he actually offered. with compensation, of course.

“hey keeks! haven’t seen you in a hot minute, how’ve you been?” his smile is wide when he notices you, still shaking the drink he was currently making.

“busy as hell, what about you? how’s the portfolio?” you unlace your hand with jeongin’s and lean on the side of the bar, trying not to let his actions sway your easily distracted mind.

“i’ve been really good! super busy too, still working on it,” he hands the finished drink to the girl standing at the bar, and she hands him a 20 while batting her eyelashes. he winks back and then turns to you, “you want a beer or a cocktail?”

“cocktail please, something tequila. i’m in the mood to chat,” you smile and it makes him laugh, already pulling the casamigos from the rack.

“whatever you say, princess,” this has always been the relationship between you and hyunjin since before you and jeongin had started dating. the shameless flirting, the easy conversation, the nicknames, you’ve thanked god jeongin isn’t the jealous type plenty of times. your drink is handed to you in moments, jeongin passing his friend a bill you couldn’t see. you thanked hyunjin for the drink and jeongin for tipping him, and your boyfriend pulled you by the wrist once more.

“where are we going?” you ask, keeping your drink level as you make your way through the crowd. you try to manage a sip, your face scrunching up from the sour taste. tequila and sour mix was an odd one of your favorites, but the first sip is always the worst before it gets better.

“i just met a couple of chan’s friends, i was talking with them right before you got here, they’re cool. they’re in the same major as you,” he yells over the loud music now that you’re back in the crowd, and you nod despite him not being able to see you.

you make your way over to the smoking corner, one of the cozier areas that you friend group seemed to naturally go towards every time you were here. the music was still loud but it seemed somewhat quieter in the corner, maybe because it was next to the edge of the rooftop and there was nothing but the city around and beneath, you could hear traffic and the business of new york, making it seem less deafening. there were couches, cushioned chairs, tiki torches, it made the space the most inviting spot on the rooftop.

“hey keeks!” chan stood up to hug you, wrapping his huge arms around your back, “feels like i haven’t seen you in ages, you haven’t been by the loft. what’s up?”

“i know, i’ve been busy as shit,” you chuckle as he lets go, sitting back down, “how about you?”

“the same, really. but hey, nothing new is nothing bad, right?” his hands go up, his eyebrows raised in amusement. you glance down to the couch, han was sitting with one leg over minho’s, fully relaxed into the cushions. you gave them a smile in greeting, they were close friends of the four roommates, close friends of yours. you give chan a nod and the rest a wave before jeongin grabs your hand again.

“ki, this is who i wanted you to meet!” you turned away from chan, and before your boyfriend were two people you had definitely met before, “mingi and hongjoong.”

“oh shit, hey guys,” your cheeks immediately heat up as you give them a small wave, mouth twisting to a tight lipped smile.

“i thought your name sounded familiar!” hongjoong’s finger points, his eyebrows perked up in surprise. his mullet was messy, his piercings shining under the moonlight. he had on an oversized distressed sweater, a long pair of denim shorts, paired with some old boots. does he just permanently look like a rockstar?

“sick, you know each other already?” jeongin asks, a bright smile on his face.

“yeah, we met last week at prince when i was out with wooyo and yunho,” you nod, playing with the straw in your drink.

“how’d the song come out, ki? you add in what i told you to?” mingi asks, and you gave him a one over. he wore a tight black tee paired with white and black jeans, a black baseball cap and plenty of jewelry.

you nod, “got an A plus, thank you very much!” you sip your drink, pretending you didn’t feel the sweat forming in your palms, telling yourself it’s just the condensation from your glass.

jeongin looks at you with an eyebrow raised, clearly missing a key point from the conversation, “the night i had the breakthrough, mingi listened to my song and told me what i needed to fix. he’s why i finished it so quickly.”

“ah,” is all he said with a slow nod, and you couldn’t fight the uncomfortable feeling creeping up your spine.

“even if i didn’t, you still would’ve gotten a good grade, you didn’t need my help,” he shakes his hand at you, “i’ve actually been talking to joong about it, next time you’re in the studio you have to let us come by and listen to it.”

“seriously? i mean- yeah, but why?” your eyebrows furrow and you shift your weight to one leg.

“it’s been stuck in my head, i was thinking it’d be even better with vocals over it,” he shrugs, taking a swig of his beer.

“i catch him humming to it all the time. during class, at work, at the bar,” hongjoong laughs before he sniffs, running the back of his hand over his nostrils, “i feel like i need to hear it so i can get it out of my head.”

you laugh along with him, “you can definitely come by, i’ll probably be in there tomorrow working on my own stuff. same studio,” you tip your chin up at mingi and he nods back in understanding.

jeongin’s hand makes its way to your waist, “i’m gonna go find felix and ri, i’ll be back.” you nod and give him a quick kiss, and he goes right back into the crowd.

“i didn’t know you and jeongin were together,” mingi starts, his eyes that were following jeongin disappear into the crowd come back to meet yours.

“almost two years now,” you say with a smile, then take another sip of your drink. the words feel sour coming out of your mouth, like you didn’t want to tell him that.

“two yea- aren’t you a junior?” hongjoong interrupted, pointing your way again, looking nothing short of flabbergasted.

“we met our freshman year, been together since,” you confirmed with an uncomfortable chuckle, taking another sip of your drink. you hated that you selfishly wanted to change the subject.

“cute,” mingi mutters before his beer touches his lips again, eyes boring holes into yours.

“ki!” you hear over your shoulder, making you whip around to yunho approaching you from behind, his girlfriend close behind him. you’d never been more grateful for anything in your life.

“hey guys,” you smile and hug them both quickly, giving yunho a moment to greet everyone in the corner before he takes the spot next to you.

“what’d i miss? i just saw felix and riley back there,” his hands are in his pockets, a soft close-mouthed smile sitting on his face.

“nothing at all, we were waiting for you to get the party started,” you scrunch your nose at your own joke and yunho replies with a belly laugh, shaking his head.

“yun, can we get drinks?” ivy asked, tugging on yunho’s sleeve. blonde and blue eyed, small girl, she was always dressed so pretty. always in a dress or a skirt, you don’t know if you’ve ever seen her in a pair of pants, not even when you all went out for a night of bowling in brooklyn.

they’d been together for longer than yourself and jeongin, the four of you often went out on double dates when you first became friends with yunho. their relationships mirrored your own, a match made in heaven, two people born to be with each other.

“you guys are empty too?,” mingi asks, asking the three of you but keeping his gaze focused on your empty glass, gaining your attention. “let’s go get another.”

he starts for the crowd with you following close behind until it starts to get dense, people naturally clinging closer to one another the closer they got to the dj. changbin always insists he runs the music at these parties, there’s nothing he loves more than riling up a crowd with the remixes he and han make. he also couldn’t complain about the girls that hang around the booth. mingi turns his head around and notices you lagging behind, offering a hand so you don't get lost in the crowd.

you took it, and the first thing you noticed was how small your hand is in comparison to his. it fit so nicely in his palm, fingers wrapped around the top of his hand. you blame the tequila for the heat that spread into your chest.

as you neared the line for the bar you chose to not use your friendship with hyunjin to get you up to the front, opting to take your time at the back of the line instead. you noticed yunho and ivy didn’t make it to the line behind you and you couldn’t help but be happy about it.

“so,” he starts and a pause follows, making you both giggle, “i assume you’re at all of these parties, right?”

his question makes you tilt your head, “i’m 95% sure that question was a slightly different version of ‘you come here often?’”

he turns around in embarrassment, a hand covering his mouth, pretending he didn’t know who you were. he turns back around, a silly smile sitting on those pretty lips of his and you swear there’s a pink hue to his cheeks, “it might’ve been.”

“then to that, i’ll say i used to come a lot more, but with school getting so crazy i haven’t been as much,” you shrug and he nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

you make small talk as the line moves closer and you swear there’s tension between the two of you. it could be the buzz you’re nursing because the small talk flows, but it feels like there’s something that both of you want to say and neither of you are saying it.

“you’re cheating on me with someone else now too?” hyunjin pouts as you finally approach the bar.

“i’m sorry baby, i didn’t mean to break it to you like this,” you reach for his hand over the bar and he pulls it away, looking at you with disappointment.

“is it because he’s taller than me? i swear 2 or 3 inches isn’t that much,” he says with a fake sadness, already pulling the casamigos from the rack.

“jinnie baby, 2 or 3 inches is a lot where it counts,” you put your hand over your heart, “i hope you can forgive me.”

“i’ll think about it, princess,” he puts your drink on the bar, looking up to mingi who is confused yet amused, “miller right?”

mingi nods and hyunjin cracks a can, mingi slipping him a bill during the transaction. they both do that guy nod at each other in thanks and hyunjin looks at you with fake sadness again, making you giggle.

“what the hell?” is all mingi says as you walk back towards the crowd, both walking a lot slower.

“that’s hyunjin, one of my friends. we always play like that,” you shrug, “what, you thought he was serious?”

“at first, well for a second there yeah,” he admits, making you laugh, “i don’t know what to expect with you. here i thought i met a really pretty girl who shares the same interests as me, has the same humor as me, then i find out she’s been in a two year long relationship. i guess i don’t really know that much about you.”

you stop in your tracks and look up to him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. you blink a couple times, scrambling to find something to say.

“you think i’m pretty?” you ask, a serious look on your face before your lips twitch upward. he nudges your shoulder with a shut up making you giggle.

“what do you want to know?” you ask, and you’re both standing still, nursing your drinks.

“i want to know a lot of things, but unfortunately i think our time is up,” his eyes look past you and you turn around, jeongin approaching.

“hey guys,” he kisses your cheek and tilts his head up to nod at mingi, “i caught riley and chan flirting!”

you gasp, “no shot, san is here.”

he nods again, success written all over his face, “i think san was in our corner while they were talking.”

you dapped up your boyfriend, “i consider that a step forward, i’ll stay here if she takes him home tonight.”

“you’re staying here anyway,” he looks at you like you should know that already then leans closer to your ear, “i didn’t forget about what i said earlier.”

you shush him, your cheeks burning, from what he said or the fact that he said it with the other man standing behind you, you weren’t sure.

“i’m gonna head back over to where we were,” mingi says from behind you, and you turn around to give him a smile and a nod. jeongin gives him a cheesy thumbs up and you can’t help but want to pull his hand back down to his side, second-hand embarrassment forcing heat to rise to your cheeks again. you’d usually find that funny, maybe even a bit endearing.

“we should go too,” you murmur, this time you grabbed his wrist to follow mingi through the crowd.

when you get back, all the seats are taken except for the spots san and minho left open, they had gone to get more drinks just as you got there. mingi and hongjoong still choose to stand, deep in conversation with yunho. you and jeongin sit apart, opposite sides of the area, and you try your hardest to listen to the conversation everyone was already in the midst of. you kept replaying the past half hour in your head while everyone around you was engulfed in discussion, burning the conversation with mingi into your memory so your buzzed brain didn’t forget it. as curious as you were about him he seemed to be the same towards you, which only made you more restless about getting to know him better. you caught yourself staring at him a few times throughout the night until he inevitably caught you, shooting a sly smirk your way.

your eyes shoot to jeongin who was already looking at you, he’d noticed you’ve been lost in your thoughts for awhile now. he stood abruptly, straightening out his shirt.

“i’m tired,” he says nonchalantly, still looking to you. you couldn’t read him, did he catch that? the looks? is he actually tired? everyone looks up at him, surprised at his sudden revelation, “i’m gonna head to bed.”

“it’s only midnight, innie,” chan looks up from his lock screen, no doubt checking the time, “why so early?”

he shrugs, “i’m tired.”

he waves goodnight to everyone and you sit stuck in your chair, unsure of where his head is at. do you follow him? do you stay here with everyone and enjoy the rest of the party? you hadn’t even said hi to the soccer club yet.

as he starts to walk away, he doesn’t look back at you nor does he kiss you goodnight, and you have your answer. you stood up, swinging your purse over your shoulder and chug the rest of your drink. you needed the rest of the watered down tequila to ease your nerves, especially with not knowing where his head is. he may not be the jealous type, but he’s not stupid, either.

“you’re going in, too?” riley asks, eyebrows furrowed with a pout on her lips.

“following my boyfriend into an empty house? absolutely,” you say jokingly, trying to play it off as something you two had planned.

but as she always does, she lifts a brow, sensing your uneasiness despite your words. her eyes quickly darted to mingi and back to you so fast it was almost unnoticeable, and your lips tightened. she nods.

“we on for wednesday?” yunho asks as you turn away, giving you a quick hug goodbye.

“depends on my assignments for the week,” you say, scratching the back of your neck.

“wooyoung will be pissed if you don’t,” he sings teasingly and you roll your eyes, turning your attention to mingi and hongjoong.

“good to see you guys again,” you smile, waving to them both.

“we’ll see you tomorrow?” hongjoong asks, eyebrows raised.

“i think so,” you nod, purposefully not confirming, then turn on your heel to walk through the crowd once more.

you greet about twenty more people along the way, getting stuck in a few conversations before you finally stand before the door to the staircase. you take in a deep breath, not knowing what’s waiting for you on the other side.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you nodded your head along to the beat, fingers tapping against the desk, mimicking every sound in the current project you had displayed across the monitor. you paused it, tweaking a harmony’s pitch, then pressed play again.

you sighed as you sat back, taking off your headphones in the middle of the song, and stared up at the ceiling of the studio. you hadn’t seen him since friday, and he’s been occupying half of your mind since. it’s so wrong, you shouldn’t wish he’d walk through the door behind you, but you do.

you couldn’t stop thinking about his necklaces, his rings, the hat he wore and the short waves peeking out of it, his nose, his lips… the list can go on and on. it’s so fucking wrong. your boyfriend was at his apartment, waiting for you to be done so you could join him. you spent the remainder of the weekend with him, half because you wanted to and half because you needed to. you needed mingi out of your head, and the only way to do that was to fill it with jeongin.

you stare back at the screen, and your eyes squint. you can’t help but wonder what he’d think of the song, what input he’d have to improve it. you rubbed your eyes and groaned.

a knock at the door has your eyes wide and a gasp leaving your throat, your neck snapping behind you to catch who’s entering your studio space. the man of the hour waltzes inside so casually, as if he didn’t owe you rent for living in your mind the past 96 hours.

“look who it is,” your smile is wide, bright eyes looking up at him as he makes his way in.

“at least i didn’t scare you this time,” he’s already smiling too, excitement leaking out of both of you, “i finally caught you, you didn’t show on saturday.”

you take your headphones off, placing them on the desk, “my bad, i didn’t feel good all weekend. this is the first time i’ve been here in a few days,” a lie.

“all better now i hope?” he stands with the back of his legs against the desk, staring down at you, so aloof you can't read him.

“for the most part,” you lean back in your chair, playing with your own rings, “i was hoping i’d see you, actually. i’m working on something else that i want your opinion on.”

“hoping you’d see me? that doesn’t sound good,” that smirk you couldn’t stop thinking about finds its way to his face again, “don’t get yourself in trouble now.”

you roll your eyes, “did your ears stop working or are you so narcissistic that that’s all you heard?”

he chuckles to himself, pulling the chair that he sat in last time back over to the desk, “go for it.”

you unplug your headphones this time, letting the song play out loud. you both nod your head, and you couldn’t help feeling vulnerable as your own personal project plays through the small studio. he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and you couldn’t read his expression. it seemed like focus, but you couldn’t pinpoint any pleasure or dislike.

he pauses the song, looking dead at you, and you feel two feet tall in the leather chair, “have you applied anywhere for an internship?”

you blink twice, not expecting the sudden question, “i was planning to look into it later this year.”

“you need to start looking, you’re good at this shit,” he takes a breath, pressing play to finish the song. your whole body is hot, there’s no way you could pay attention to the rest of the song now. despite the discomfort from the sudden compliment, a surge of confidence rushes through you, twisting the vulnerability into a feeling of pride.

you realized you haven't even heard anything he’s produced yet, and wonder why his opinion means so much to you. is it just because he’s older? more experienced? because he’s already working with a record label?

“i really fucking like this, ki. we need to get joong in here,” his voice rips you out of your thoughts, realizing he’s already looking at you, “do you mind if i text him to stop by?”

you quickly shook your head, “not at all, no, tell him to come by,” you tuck your hair behind your ears, “thank you, but there’s nothing you want to add? no constructive criticism?”

“well it’s not like this is for a class, right?” he asks and you quickly shake your head again, “the art you create is a reflection of you, it represents who you are. your talent, your passion, your personality. i can’t give criticism on something so personal.”

you both blink at each other before he cracks a small smile, “that was corny, wasn’t it?”

“no! it wasn’t corny at all, i just wasn’t expecting something so… poetic?” you untuck your hair, nervously fidgeting now, “i guess there’s a lot i don’t know about you either.”

“well what do you want to know?” he asks, mimicking your words from the last time you two spoke.

“everything,” you took a breath, “i want to know everything.”

the next few hours were spent with the two of you talking about every thought that popped into both of your brains. each story you told reminded him of a similar one he had, which reminded you of a similar story you had, and the cycle went on and on.

he told you about his childhood, moving to another country with yunho in tow and nothing else to his name. yunho’s version you’ve already heard, but hearing the second telling of the story left a different impact. mingi talked about yunho with stars in his eyes, he spoke of him so highly, yunho is someone he held close to his heart.

he talked about coming to new york, his dream of becoming a successful music producer, the dream you both shared. you reveled in your shared dream for a bit, how you wanted to succeed, what genres you preferred, tips and tricks of the trade. he showed you a couple songs on his phone, and you were right to hold your opinion of him so high, his style is unlike anything you’ve ever heard.

he grew up listening to a plethora of genres, his favorite being rock, he went to as many concerts as he could for as many different genres as he could, and spent plenty of nights by himself writing music. he’s a rapper as well as a producer, most of his music has his vocals and rap lines over it, all written by himself. his knowledge and experience shows through his music, his art, it’s motivating more than anything. it gives you a clearer goal, an objective for your own future.

“what the fuck is fix on?”

“my tag, like an ad-lib.”

“like karate kid? wax on, wax off.”

that made him laugh, and laugh loud, “it’s for like, determination, i guess. like to be fixed on a goal or a target.”

“i like it, mister miyagi.”

mingi and hongjoong got close when they met their freshman year, and became inseparable. they share the same values, have the same dream, and are both extremely talented individuals. when put together, they’re truly special. he showed you one or two tracks hongjoong had a hand in and it blew you away. their style was so unique, a mixture of genres that bled into one sound, but it worked. it worked so fucking well. you knew in your heart they were going to run the industry one day, and you’d be their number one competitor.

you got into your childhood, you shared the feeling of moving somewhere new with nothing to your name. his was a lot greater, you’d just hopped a couple states over. but the two of you could relate to one another, on a deeper level than either of you thought you would. there are too many things that the two of you shared… it scared you and excited you.

somewhere in those hours you moved from the leather chairs to the couch, you sat facing him with your knees bent up right beside his torso. your shoes had come off, his hoodie that smelled so deliciously like him had swallowed you over your jumpsuit. his arm stretched across the couch behind you, touching your shoulder every now and then, reminding you of that uncomfortable feeling which kept itself seated at the pit of your stomach.

“we have more in common than i initially thought, i think,” you leaned your head to the side, facing him still, the top of your head hitting the back of the couch.

“i had a feeling we would get along. you’re too bright eyed to be a local, too talented to be boring,” he answered, his arm stretched behind your head bent up to pat your head.

“did hongjoong ever answer you?” you asked, realizing he never showed up. you played with the sleeves of his hoodie mindlessly, looking up at him.

“can i be honest?” a rhetorical question, his eyes looking down at your sleeves, “i never texted him.”

both of you giggled like little kids, his chest rising and lowering with each laugh. this comfort, this ease you both clearly feel, you didn’t want it to stop. it was so easy to talk to him, your conversation had a constant flow from the time he walked into the room.

you let out a tsk, “you’re gatekeeping me, song mingi, and that’s no fun.”

“if anyone‘s gatekeeping you, it’s jeongin,” his snap is quick, like he was waiting to bring up jeongin. your jaw drops before a laugh erupts from your throat.

you sit up and smack his shoulder playfully, “you’re fucked up!”

he shrugs, “it’s true.” he isn’t laughing, there’s no smile on his face. he’s dead serious. you should get up, you should leave, you should at least tell him not to say things like that. but you don’t.

your laughter dies and you’re both staring at each other, a stillness overtaking the room. it’s deafening, the close proximity in which you’re sitting now feels incriminating. your sock covered foot touching his thigh feels like it’s on fire.

“mingi,” your voice is so low it’s almost a whisper, that pit feeling in your stomach you pushed down only growing.

“tell me there’s nothing between us, that there isn’t this thing that would’ve started last week if you didn’t have him,” his face is blank, you couldn’t read him. every feature is perfectly in place as he looks at you, no dishonesty in his eyes — just veracity.

“why?” is all you ask, voice small. you didn’t dare move an inch, you didn’t break contact, fear breaking out across your skin. fear for what, you couldn’t place.

“i want to kiss you, i know i shouldn’t, but i’m starting to not give a fuck anymore. i need you to tell me no,” his voice is also low, raspy but still laced with confidence. he sits forward a bit, head turning to face you more. your eyes drift from his own to his lips, those lips you’d been seeing in your dreams. bottom lip red from how often he pulls it between his teeth, both wet from how many times he’s licked them to soothe them over. they were inviting, you wondered what they tasted like, what they’d feel like pressed against your own.

“ki, if you don’t answer i’m going to assume it’s a yes. say no,” he repeats, whispering the last part, and you look back up to his eyes. every ounce of your body that was feeling fear a moment ago is replaced with need, a demand so great that it’s pulsing through you, a desperation you haven’t felt in a long time. there was no other thought in your brain other than what he felt like. you needed to know, fuck the consequences.

with a speed you’ve only experienced with one other person, his lips are pressed to yours. you couldn’t think, you couldn’t process, you couldn’t think of anything other than him and how much you wanted him.

his lips tasted so entirely like him, wet and messy and sweet. his hands confidently wrapped around your head like they were made for this purpose, his lips fitting so perfectly between your own you can’t imagine anyone else’s being there again. it was fascinating, one kiss changing everything you knew about yourself.

you had one boyfriend back at home. you started dating when you were seventeen, a junior in high school, he was your first everything. you were so wrapped around his finger you thought you’d be married by twenty. you could see it: the two of you living in new york city together, in a big penthouse, a fat diamond on your finger. he was lanky, a tall boy with pretty white teeth and shaggy brown hair, he was everything you thought you wanted in a partner. he was funny, quiet but he knew when to use his voice, he was insistent on what was best for you and your future.

then the time came for you to graduate, and around that time you were a fucking mess. as much as you needed to leave home to go to a big city with big opportunities, of course, leaving everyone you’ve ever known destroyed you. the day you graduated high school you broke it off with him. you told him it was because you were leaving and there was no way a long distance relationship would work, but you knew if you truly loved him you would've made it work. you knew when you came to the city of dreams you’d meet someone who swept you off your feet.

as mingi scooped you off your spot on the couch and onto his lap, you knew you were right. you’ve always been loyal to jeongin, you’d barely ever looked in anyone else’s direction. you were fully convinced jeongin was the one you’d be in that penthouse with, and he’d be the one to get on one knee and put that diamond around your finger.

jeongin has never once treated you this way, and god does it feel good. you’d never once felt this level of greed, this level of desperation. like you’re the last sip of water in a desert and mingi hasn’t had a drop in days. your thighs wrapped around mingi’s hips and his hands found your waist, tongues in a battle to see who wanted the other more. you were both out of breath, the kiss never once breaking, and your brain was on a carousel. all you could think was how good this feels, how good he feels and that you wanted more on repeat. until the one person’s face who should not be in your head right now popped in to remind you what the fuck you were doing.

you broke away, wide eyed, with a hushed fuck.

a muttered fuck fuck fuck left your lips as you got off his lap, quickly backing up two steps away from him.

“i’m sorry,” he blurts out, pulling his shirt over what you were just happily grinding yourself against, “ki, i’m so sorry.”

“shut up,” you snap, with your hands out in front of you, eyes shut, “let me think.”

this is okay, you can get away with this. no one needs to know what just happened. it was once, you needed to get it out of your system. you’ll never do it again. it’s okay. no one can know, though. not a single person in the world can find out what just happened, you and mingi both need to take it to the grave. as long as no one finds out, you’ll be safe. you and jeongin will be happy. it’ll work out. this is okay. it’s okay.

“you tell no one,” you say shakily, your voice low, “not yunho, not hongjoong, not any of your other friends. no one.”

he hurriedly nods, “i won’t tell a soul, please don’t freak out. i’m sorry ki.”

you gathered your backpack, throwing your headphones and all the other shit you had sprawled across the desk into it. you threw it over your shoulders, heading for the door.

“ki?” he calls from the couch, and you pause, turning your head to look at him.

“my hoodie.”

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nczennie · 5 months ago

Text

it's ok if it hurts.

Pairing: Reader & Stray Kid's Hyunjin AU: Historical, Royalty Genre: Angst Preview: Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead. Words: 3.8k *warnings undercut

WARNINGS: Death, mentions of blood, mentions of sexual harassment

You've come to find out that you learn a lot of things growing up in a palace.

You may not learn how to read or write. How to walk so perfectly straight you can balance a book on your head. You'll never learn how to sweet talk delegates from other regions, but you think the lessons you've learned are just as valuable.

You know to always keep your eyes trained down, you know when it is okay for you to speak. You know to listen and observe every conversation you stumble upon. You've learned the techniques it takes to survive living as your rank in a place run by royals.

Your father is one of the King's chefs, your mother one of the ladies in charge of making the Queen's tea. They fell in love and married, you coming along shortly after. This meant you were apart of the palace life since you were born. And once you were old enough you were put to work as well, helping the other ladies in the garden picking herbs and cutting flowers.

You didn't mind your job, not that you had anything to compare it to. You enjoyed being able to work outside and the older women doted on you endlessly.

The King and Queen had two sons. Two boys blessed in beauty and had their own unique talents. The oldest of the two was eager to adopt his role as future King. Loving to read the history of the region, often taking his horse to explore the land. The youngest of the two boys was quite the opposite. He was a softer boy who loved poetry and art. Eager to make his own paintings rather than read about those who already did.

The younger Prince, Hyunjin, was your age. In fact, he was born merely months after you. The Queen found comfort in talking about her pregnancy with your mother as she served her tea. Comparing symptoms and trying to guess if that meant they were having a boy or a girl.

And though not proper, you and Hyunjin often played together when you were young, though it came with disapproving looks from his father whenever he caught you both. "It's alright, they're still young." his mother would say.

You always wondered if that meant once you become older you and Hyunjin would no longer be friends. But here you are now, having recently turned eighteen, pulling weeds from the garden as Hyunjin sat next to you sketching a newly bloomed flower.

The late summer humidity was getting to you as you move to wipe the sweat from your brow, the wide brim hat protecting you from the sunlight but did little to help your temperature when there was no breeze out. Reaching to place another weed in your basket you let out a huff.

"Did you hear the news?" Hyunjin speaks up, one of the first words he's spoke since concentrated on his writing. You turn to look at him but he doesn't move his gaze from his paper. "Maehwa is pregnant."

Maehwa is Hyunjin's sister-in-law. She married his brother some years ago and is set to be the future Queen. You hum, removing one of your gloves to relieve a bit of the heat, "Yes, mother told me. She seems very excited." Now alongside the Queen, your mother also serves Maehwa her tea as well.

Hyunjin puts his pencil down, opening and closing his fist as if to relieve his charcoal coated fingers of the stiffness. "My brother says he secretly wishes it's a girl," Hyunjin chuckles knowing if their father heard he would yell at him, knowing tradition calls for needing sons in order to keep their position as royal family.

You smile at the thought, you were fond of Hyunjin's brother. He was always very polite and nice to not only you but everyone he met. He was well read and modern and determined to make a difference when he became King. Even Maehwa, whom he was arranged to marry was a perfect fit for him. Sharing his kindness and beliefs.

Returning your glove to your hand, you reach for another weed hidden beneath a dirt pile, "I know he will be a great father no matter what." Hyunjin hums in agreement moving to smudge bits of his drawing.

"Well, well, well," Someone draws out and you and Hyunjin look in surprise as someone approaches you both.

Upon seeing him, you avert your gaze, secretly rolling your eyes as he approaches, "What are you both doing alone?" It was Hyunjin's personal guard. A young man by the name of Sahan.

On Hyunjin's eighteenth birthday, a personal guard was hired to make sure he was safe, especially since it meant he could now travel outside of the palace. This is where Sahan came in, he was some years older than the Prince but much more immature. There was something about the man you didn't quite trust, and the inappropriate comments he makes to the women staff around the palace make you all uncomfortable. But Hyunjin doesn't see that, in fact he seems to love Sahan. Growing up his only contact with people around his age were his brother and you. You figure he takes pleasure in having Sahan around and sees him as a friend.

Hyunjin smiles as the man approaches, "Oh come on, you know she is my friend." He chuckles standing to his feet and wipes at his clothes to remove any dirt. You still don't move to look at them but you could basically hear the smirk in Sahan's voice, "That may be but you know it's inappropriate for you both to be alone. Especially when you are friends with someone so beautiful, it could be tempting."

You don't give the man the satisfaction of a reaction, biting your tongue and keeping your gaze fixed on the plant before you.

Hyunjin lets out an amused scoff and your stomach clenches as he speaks, "Oh, please. It's not like that." Sahan laughs loudly at this, perhaps finding amusement in your friends rejection of you. "Suit yourself," you hear Hyunjin gather his art supplies.

You don't dare to look back, not even when Hyunjin calls your name and tells you goodbye. You listen to the sound of their footsteps growing further and further away on the gravel.

Your mom always warned you your feelings for Hyunjin were dangerous.

But you merely rolled your eyes. You weren't stupid, you felt like saying. You knew you could never be with Hyunjin and you would never try to. Those thoughts you had about him falling in love with you and begging his parents to let him marry you were just fantasies you knew were for your head only.

But that doesn't mean it hurt any less when they announced he was getting married.

A scholar's daughter. Her family quicking raising in social status and wealth. Not acceptable for an heir, but for a second son, she would do.

You feel grateful that it isn't Hyunjin that breaks the news to you. That way when your mother tells you, you could cry in her arms as she tells you off for your feelings but hugs you tight nonetheless.

Hyunjin has always been romantic.

And now that he is getting his chance at love he seems happier than ever. Now sitting below the tree where you pick apples. Hanging on to the ladder and biting your tongue as he drowns out about his wedding.

"I think I will paint her something and surprise her with it the night of the wedding." He looks up at you and you fill the bag with the ripe fruit. You hum but don't speak, focusing on reaching and keeping your balance.

"She'll probably be so nervous to move into the palace. But after the wedding when we're finally alone, I'll reassure her I'll love her and protect her. And then I'll present her with the painting and we can display it in our room." He drones on.

He's always been like this, coming up with romantic scenarios where he's the hero that can save and comfort someone he loves. But unfortunately they've never been about you.

"I could paint a picture of her town, to remind her of home. What do you think?" He asks and you sigh. "That's sweet, Hyunjin." You say because no matter how bitter you feel, you can't deny the sentiment.

"I just met her, she's is quite the beauty."

You jump with a start, turning to see who has joined you in the gardeners shed. A chill runs through you as you see Sahan standing in the doorway. Without giving him a response, you turn back to the bucket of water where you were washing the vegetables.

Your heart pounds as he walks closer to you, your breath hitches as he stands directly behind you. "Salin, that's her name." He says in a low voice behind you.

He's speaking of Hyunjin's finacé. The wedding is tomorrow, and she arrived to the palace tonight.

"Leave me alone, Sahan." You finally say, scrubbing the radish for the wedding celebrations even harder.

Suddenly, you feel the weight of his hand over your waist, causing the vegetable to slip from your hand. You turn, burning red as he has the nerve to touch you.

"Don't touch me." You say firmly but he only looks down at you with a smirk. "Hyunjin is not yours anymore." He whispers, "He belongs to Salin now." He moves closer, pushing you into the large bucket, pressing against you and you try to push at his chest to keep your space.

"I can help you forget him, I can distract you." He leans in to whisper in your ear as you yank your head to the side. He hand form before returns to your waist giving it a squeeze.

"Get out. I'll scream." You say trying your best to keep your voice steady. But he merely laughs, "I think it's funny you have any power over me. You think anyone here will care what I do to you?"

Your lip wobbles as you look past his shoulder. Because no matter how small it made you feel, it was true.

There's a bustle of commotion from outside. You assume more gardeners returning to work after finishing their dinner. The whole palace will be awake all night to finish preparing for the big day tomorrow.

Sahan glances towards the door before pulling away from you completely. "I'll see you another time." He says simply before slipping out into the night. Leaving you to finish washing radishes as quiet sobs leave your mouth.

The wedding goes splendidly.

Not that you would know as you were not allowed near the occasion, but the rest of the palace speaks happily about the whole ordeal.

You haven't seen Hyunjin in over a month. You suppose you should've expected this as he is married now. But a part of you wanted to believe you meant a least a fraction as much to him as he did to you.

On that note, you haven't seen Sahan since that night as well. He was busy accompanying Hyunjin and Salin around the town as they explored her new home.

But now a sense of paranoia and dread filled you whenever you were alone. Not wanted to run into him in fear of what he would do to you.

It was one early morning when you and the rest of the garders were busy planting seeds for a new crop. However your work was interrupted when the newly appointed princess, Salin walked with her staff into the field.

As protocol has it, you all stopped your work, standing to bow before standing still with your gaze pointed to the ground.

"I came to check out the work," she speaks and her voice is light as a feather. It's the first time you've been in the same room as her and you're dying to cast your gaze up to get a glance at her. But you restrain yourself.

"Thank you for all your hard work." She speaks over everyone, walking down the line of you all before stopping merely feet from you. "As you all know, I am now Prince Hyunjin's wife. And I just want to remind you all that you are gardeners. You work for the palace."

"And palace staff is all you'll stay. Please remember your place. Staff should not be on comfortable speaking terms with any of the royal family." Your mouth runs dry at her words.

She is talking to you all, but you know she is speaking to you.

She thanks you all once again before taking her leave. Shakily, you get back to your position. She had to be talking about you, there was no other explanation. Somehow she must've found out about your friendship with Hyunjin, but how?

A couple of days later when it's your turn to set the fruit buckets to dry, you notice Hyunjin sitting under the tree just ahead of you.

A smile quirks on your face as for a second it feels like the old days. "Hyunjin," you call as you walk up to him giving him a friendly smile. He looks up from where he was drawing, eyebrows furrowed as if he didn't hear you approach.

But instead of his familiar warm smile or playful smirk he once gave you, his face stays still. A look of blankness casting over him like a veil. As if twenty years of memories slipped his mind.

"I hope you are not forgetting you are speaking to a member of the royal family." He speaks in an even tone.

You take a small step back taking a moment to consider his words. Hoping for a second that he was joking. Unfortunately there is not a hint of amusement in his face, instead a coldness that passes from his gaze to your blood.

"Your highness, excuse me." You say quietly before turning and scrambling off, forgetting about what you originally came for.

Your chest heaves as you make your way back to your working quarters. A dull pain lingering in your head as you try to comprehend what happened.

For as long as you've known Hyunjin you've never adhered to the rules that everyone else was expected to follow. He made it clear to you from the start that you were friends and there was no need to treat him otherwise.

Not realising that must've ended for him as soon as he got married.

You keep your head down as you enter the gardening shed, your coworkers chattering loudly. Suddenly, you remember about drying the baskets, so you quickly make your way into the corner pretending you came to grab more.

Stacking them slowly, you give yourself a minute to cry. Tears streaming down your face as you mourn your friend. It seems so sudden he was ripped from you without you even knowing.

You hear the door open but don't bother to look, not even when the loud chatter becomes murmurs.

You still work as you feel a presence behind you before a voice speaks, "I suppose whatever relationship you had with the Prince has come to an end."

It's Sahan. You recognize his chilling voice from anywhere. That must also explain why the other ladies have quieted. For there is no woman in the palace who feels comfortable with him.

You don't speak or acknowledge him as he only brings out a burning anger from within you.

"It's a shame the Princess doesn't want him around you. I must've let your friendship slip." He teases with a smirk you don't have to see to know is there.

So that's what happened. It's Sahan who told Princess Salin about your friendship with Hyunjin. That's why she visited you all in the fields the other day. That explains Hyunjin's behavior.

Sahan turns to leave a second later, perhaps not finding fun in your lack of reaction but you would never give him the satisfaction. You would never let him know that he's ruined you.

The next month has been miserable.

Not only is there a big harvest coming up that has you working from sunup to sundown, but you miss Hyunjin.

You loved Hyunjin. And although you were smart enough not to admit it to anyone it still doesn't stop the fact that you feel utterly heartbroken.

You've lost not only a love, but your only friend in the palace. At this point you feel as if you've had nothing left. Even your parents have got to retire from their years of hard work and loyalty, living in a house outside of the palace and in town. It may be small but it was their own.

One night you feel like you're sleepwalking as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters. The palace is dark as everyone who is inside sleeps, but you volunteered to be the one to cleaned and prepped the tools ready for the morning.

Walking past one of the building you freeze.

It could be your sleep deprivation, or the wind, but from within just for a second it sounded like a yelp.

You pause listening for more. Surely if there was something, the guards would be alerted by now.

There was not another yelp, but instead a large thud.

This, not something you could blame on being tired. You heard it loud and clear.

You look around, waiting for someone to come to check out the noises, but there are only crickets. Hesitantly you take a step towards the door. If no one else was coming you had to make sure everything was okay.

Slowly, you start to slide the door open, as if to warn whoever was on the other side of your entry. Once you slip in, you let your eyes adjust, only a single candle lighting the room from the corner.

Standing in the middle of the room, is Prince Salin, causing you to freeze. You're about to bow and apologize before you noticed the terrified look on her face. She's heaving, sweating from her brow.

Looking at her hands, you freeze noticing the blood.

A panic wells in you as you begin to think she is hurt.

She holds what looks like a piece of a vase. Your gaze continues to the floor. You quickly move your hands to your mouth before the sound of shock can leave you.

There lies his body.

A pool of blood spilling from his neck, looking black in the dark lighting. The remains of the broken vase scattered around him.

You make a quick decision, entering the room completely before shutting the door quietly behind you.

"He-He was trying to touch me! I just wanted him to stop!" Salin cries, far too loud for your liking.

You hush her, moving in front of her to throw your hand over her mouth. "It's okay." You comfort her, knowing in fact it was anything but with a dead body on the floor beneath you both.

Keeping your hand over her mouth as she cries, you look down at the mess. Your mind wheeling with what to do next. What you finally decide scares you at first, but you start to move before you can think too much.

"Listen to me," You whisper to her, waiting for her to meet your gaze. "You need to sneak back into your room okay? Don't let anyone see you. Wash your hands and burn the dress, do you understand?" She merely stares at you so you push your hand into her, "Do you understand?" You whisper harshly.

She finally nods, looking desperate. You remove your hand, "Only get the help of your most trusted lady. Don't speak a word of what happened, just have her wash you and burn the dress." You repeat hoping she gets it despite her shocked state.

You step away, taking the sharp glass from her hand before nodding at her, "Go." She doesn't move for a second, looking at you before you point to the door.

She doesn't spare you another glace as she leaves as quietly as you entered.

You stare at the door for a few moments before finally looking down at the body again.

Sahan.

Leaning down you let yourself check for a pulse, confirming he was dead. You return to your standing position, looking at him and not finding it in yourself to feel sorry for him at all. You contemplate, for even in death he continues to ruin your life.

And that's how they find you.

Hyunjin was always a romantic. Maybe that's why the second he found love he left you for dead.

You knew this would be the ending of your story as soon as you made the decision to take Salin's place.

Tied and kneeling in the courtyard of the palace, moments away from death.

Though your heart pounds with fear, you don't let yourself look away from Hyunjin, hoping to catch a glimpse at your old friend before you go.

But the reality is, he is no longer there.

For he was the one who suggested execution when they told him you had murdered his beloved Sahan. At the beginning you tried to plead, explaining how he was regularing harassing women around the palace. How you were merely defending yourself but it fell on deaf ears.

Sahan was right when he said he had more power than you, even now that he was gone.

You move your gaze from Hyunjin to Salin. You're welcome, you try to convey with your eyes. This could be you. You're lucky I'm the one who found you. All messages you want her to know, but you doubt she even cares at this point. Merely happy she got away with murder.

The guards ask if you have any last words.

You've been practicing for this. You clear your throat looking at Hyunjin in the eye. It didn't really matter what you said anyways, in moments you'd be dead.

You speak clearly, hoping to conceal any traces of fear from them.

"Hyunjin," You say loud enough to make sure he can hear, "It's ok if it hurts, because I love you."

A silence follows and though not even in your fantasies you imagined this is how you confess your love, you're just glad that you got to. Even if no reaction follows.

You keep Hyunjin's blank gaze until they throw the cloth bag over your head. Darkness consumes you, but you wish you could somehow see Hyunjin's reaction. To see if there is even a sliver of sadness or remorse as he see your life taken away from you.

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

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sykeskassie · 9 months ago

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Leave Me Your Stardust To Remember You By; Pt. 1

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: ANGST!! No comfort in this one, but implied comfort is on the way. A/N: Inspired by one of my all time favorite songs. Truly, I got hit with the idea on my way home from work yesterday and rolled with it.

Pt. 2 Pt.3

When I turn jet black and you show off your light/ I live to let you shine

You had known Chris almost as long as you had known yourself. Where you began and he ended, no one seemed to know. So many

had told you that when he left for Korea at the tender age of thirteen not to be surprised if the two of you grew apart. It was one of the reasons that he had hesitations about leaving. But you had seen the talent he had, and the drive he possessed. So you sent your best friend off with the promise you would look after his siblings like they were your own, and that you would be with him every step of the way.

But you can skyrocket away from me/ And never come back if you find another galaxy

It would be years before you got to see him in person again. He was busy with training, and school, and everything in between. However, your love for each other never wavered. You spoke on the phone as often as you could both make time, battling the time zones and the day to day. You never went more than a day without emailing each other, and later on, texting. You made it a point to let him know he wasn’t forgotten, no matter how many miles separated you.

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

You would sometimes wonder if you would outgrow each other, the way you had outgrown the hoodie he had gifted you when he left. “To make sure you don’t forget me,” he had said, as if that was even a possibility. He was the star in your sky, shining as brilliantly as his smile did. But you never did outgrow him, and he always made sure to send you a new hoodie every year, on the anniversary of his leaving.

If you’ll be my boat, I’ll be your sea/ A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity

As you grew, your love did too. It shifted, and morphed, until it took on an entirely new form. You were still best friends, seemingly the closest to ever exist; you thought that would never change. However, your love shifted from an endless blue to a swirling purple. Suddenly all the ‘I love you’s exchanged held a different weight. Without any warning, you were in love with Chris. When you told him after hours, days, weeks of contemplation, he had the audacity to tell you that he had known. “I didn’t think it needed saying, because it was just a fact. You’re in love with me, and I’m in love with you. Not even oceans could stop that from happening.” You no longer had to hold onto that childlike question of who your Prince Charming was; you had known him all along.

Ebbing and flowing and pushed by a breeze/ I live to make you free

It turned out that loving Chris in a different way was easy. What was not easy was realizing how much you ached to have him by your side again. You made the effort to see him as often as you could; you had piles of airline miles between the two of you. You had met all of the kids, something that thrilled you since you had been a sounding board when he was handpicking them. They had become such an instrumental part in your life. They would constantly text you, or call you when they got the chance. If Chris was ‘dad’, you were ‘mom’, despite the distance. When Chris would hole up in the studio and go hours without moving, they would call you to get him moving. When he would get too far into his head, it was you they texted to bring him back to them. No one knew him better than you did.

But you can set sail to the west if you want to/ And past the horizon, ‘til I can’t even see you

As Stray Kids got bigger and bigger, the opportunities for visiting got smaller and smaller. Dates would be arranged, tickets would be booked, and then something would have to be moved around. Schedules would shift, tour dates would get added on, extra promotions would pop up seemingly out of nowhere. It had seemed like such a slow progression —you were used to having to adjust to his schedule, as you had been for years— that you both hadn’t realized how much time had passed until you didn’t get your yearly hoodie. It was tradition to call every year on the anniversary of his leaving, and you hadn’t missed one yet. You could explain away the missing hoodie (perhaps the postal service was running behind this year? Maybe the package had gotten lost?), but to have missed calls and radio silence? You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that. You opened up your text thread to see the stack of unanswered messages from you, scrolling to find the occasional text from Chris that seemed to always be an apology for not being available. With an ‘I love you’ sent off, you closed your phone and tried to pretend that a crack hadn’t formed in the foundation of your relationship.

Far from here where the beaches are wide/ Just leave me your wake to remember you by

You never did mention the hoodie that had never got sent, and neither did Chris. You couldn’t say if he was avoiding it the way you were, or if he genuinely didn’t remember. Honestly, you weren’t sure which would hurt worse and you didn’t really want to find out. He eventually called you back, apologizing again for not being able to pick up when you had called…and called…and called. “We were working on the song for the new comeback, and you know how the kids get when we get really into it. I noticed you had called a few times, is everything okay?” You played it off like you just missed his voice. Something fundamental had changed between you two, and you weren’t really sure why you couldn’t address it. Maybe it was the fear that acknowledging it would make it real. He assured you that once the comeback came out and promotions were done, there would be more time for each other. He even told you that one of the songs he had written for you. Ironically, he said it was “to make sure you don’t forget me”, and you had to bite your tongue from saying that it wasn’t you who was likely to forget about him.

When I turn jet black and you show off your light/ I live to let you shine

Eventually, you found out where you began and where Chris ended. It started the day you had gathered every hoodie he had ever given you. You held each one to you before folding it up, tucking the sorrow and emptiness you felt in each fold of the cloth. They had long stopped smelling like him, but if you tried hard enough you could still remember it. You started from the last you ever got, and ended with the one that seemed so small now. It was over a decade old at this point and you could hardly believe that either of you ever fit into it. As you set them all in a box, you grabbed your phone. You typed out a message in the group chat that had seen less and less of all of you in the last months, letting the kids know to take care of themselves, take care of their leader, and that you would be cheering them on always. Before anyone could respond, you left the group chat, blocked all their numbers, and set about finding a pen and paper. On top of the hoodie that signified the beginning and the end, you left a goodbye for the love of your life.

But you can skyrocket away from me

And never come back if you find another galaxy

Far from here with more room to fly

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

#stray kids #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #no y/n #angst #skz #skz x reader #stray kids angst #song fic #Boats and birds by Gregory and the hawk #LMYSTRYB pt 1 #bang chan #Bang Chan is called Chris #Spotify #rennie writes

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luvknow · 11 months ago

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after her | yang jeongin

summary: a lonely yang jeongin, fresh from a break-up, finds what it means to be happy again while living with his best friend in the big city. you fall victim to his signs of affections, struggling to define if he’s emptying what’s leftover from his relationship or if they’re truly meant for you. you’d live through the endless heartache if it meant he would smile again. characters: female reader x yang jeongin & stray kids ensemble. genre: romance, friends-to-lovers, hurt with comfort, happy ending. additional warnings: alcohol consumption, university party, some mature dialogue and situations, song lyrics. wc: 11.2k

Jeongin placed the last of his boxes in the living room of his new place you two shared. While you were away at work, he employed an off-duty Minho and Jisung with promises of pizza and beer as payment.

A low whistle escaped Jisung’s lips as his eyes scanned the condo. “Pretty decent for the price in the middle of the city.”

Jeongin wiped the sweat off his brows. “It helps that _____ is a functioning adult.”

“You’ll get there in a couple of months,” Minho patted his head. “Relax while you can before your job starts. The adult world is not kind.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

Jisung shrugged. “Find a hobby. Adopt a pet. Read a book. Don’t worry about anything! What more can a bachelor want?”

“Go to the club, hop on a dating app,” Minho suggested before Jisung hit him.

The first box Jeongin opened was one he wasn’t supposed to. On top, it wasn’t labeled, but on the side in big bold letters was, ‘TRASH. BURN. DONATE. WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT OPEN!!!!!’ On the top layer of stuff was a framed picture of him and his ex-girlfriend under the cherry blossom trees, her eyes curled like sparkling moon crescents and him looking at her like she was his whole world. Beneath were various memorabilia from blind box trinkets to old sweaters of his that still smelled like her perfume. As his heart cracked a bit more, he flopped on the couch face-first, groaning muffled by your decorative pillows.

Minho hit Jisung back. “I told you not to bring that one in!”

“He took it from me before I knew what box it was!”

The two were left unloading the Rent-a-Truck alone as their youngest friend tried to not let too many tears ruin the fabric of the couch. They’d give him a pass this time, but the next warranted multiple rounds of drinks. Jeongin’s energy bled from his body and was absorbed into the cushions, gluing his cheek down until a permanent imprint of the weaved fabric formed on his skin. His eyes stared blankly at the door after his personal mover-bros left and until you walked in, home from a long day of work. A total of six hours where he didn’t move, barely breathing, hoping evolution would kick in and he’d be able to live his life photosynthesizing.

You smiled sympathetically at the damage before you; a pile of boxes, untouched take-out, and an unmoving boy with redness around his eyes that stared off into nothingness.

“Hey, bud,” you began awkwardly. “How’re ya doin’?”

You received a lazy groan in response. He turned over to face the back of the couch, unwilling to elaborate further.

Jeongin called you last Sunday at 2:13 AM. Your first feeling was irritated, as he had better be in some deep shit to be waking you up at this hour on a work night. What you got was worse. Way worse. In a fit of tired, breathless, chest-squeezing sobs and snot-filled sniffles, Jeongin confessed that his girlfriend of just over a year had broken up with him. It was a shitty time to do so, as he was in the middle of signing for a lease after she begged him to move to the city to be closer to her. Luckily, the leasing agency was sympathetic and he went forward with canceling the signing.

The conversation that led him here in your home occurred after he was able to breathe through his tears, wondering what he was supposed to do with his new job contract, and it went like this:

“You’re already mentally prepared to move to the city. Why not do it anyway?”

“What’s the point?” he had asked with a voice so tired of crying. “There’s no reason for me to be there anymore.”

“I’m here,” you replied, offended. “You get to hang out with the most important person in your entire life -”

“By default.”

“I’m going to give you a pass on that because you’re hurting, but you called me, remember?” you had scoffed. “The city will be good for you. Better food, better drinks, things to do, people to meet. Things to distract you, y’know?”

“I can’t do this alone.” There was a long pause before the sniffling and sobs filled the silence on the other end. “If I live alone, I might never leave my apartment.”

Without hesitation, you had said, “Come live with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah! Come live here with me! We’ll turn my office into your bedroom, and voila; casa de _____ and Jeongin.”

“I can’t do that to you. You worked so hard for that place to be your haven.”

“You are my haven,” you had emphasized. “Let me be yours, too.”

A short chuckle on his end. “Cornball.”

Progress was far from linear and the hardest point was ascending from zero. Jeongin was in the negatives. Probably because he had opened a box full of outdated signs of love he and Sieun had given each other the past year and two months. Your face wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her glowing face in a heart-shaped frame. And Jeongin had called you the cornball… Maybe you were a certified hater, but you had to get rid of this box of trash now.

When you bent to pick it up, he gripped your wrist and stopped you.

“Don’t,” he muffled into the pillows.

“Keeping this isn’t good for you.”

“Neither will throwing it away.”

“How about we compromise,” you sighed. “Let’s store it in my closet until you’re ready to toss it. Out of sight, out of mind.”

His answer was letting go of you and allowing you to touch the most tender parts of his heart to store away in your dark, cold, lifeless but stylish closet for it to wither away. You didn’t want any parts of her near your room at all, but you kept muttering, ‘This is for Jeongin. This is for him because you love him, for some reason,’ as a reminder.

You’d repeat that reminder maybe ten times a day for the past week for stupid shit like him not washing his dishes, not putting the toilet seat down, drinking all your specialty alcoholic beverages you liked to save for after-work woes, but what pushed you over the edge was the empty stash of your favorite snack.

“Ok, I’m done!” you yelled. After a long day of Teams meetings and smiling at sleazy men twice your age, all you wanted was a little treat! A little snack! But when you opened your pantry, you were left with an empty box. He couldn’t even throw the damn box away!

You opened the door to his room where he sat in his gaming chair, yelling at his bros on Discord. He paid no mind to the noise, since his gaudy headphones blocked everything and likely bruised his eardrums. So when he couldn’t hear you calling his name, you went up to the microphone.

“Sorry, boys, Jeongin has some chores to do!” You heard a muffle of ‘boos’ from Chan and Felix on the other end before unplugging his set-up.

“What the hell, _____! That was a ranked game!” he whined.

“You!” you seethed, grabbing the remnants of your snack bags before chucking the empty box at his face. “You gluttonous squirrel-faced stupid, stupid boy!”

“Ooh, yikes. I know that tone.”

“You couldn’t bother texting me that we were out?!”

“They’re just snacks, we can buy more.”

“We, who!? Who’s paying the mortgage here? Who’s the one with an actual job at the moment?!”

“I start next month, ok?! And you agreed to a prorated rent because of that!”

“Being jobless doesn’t give you the right to live in my home like a slob! There are responsibilities for adulthood! There are chores and rules for living under my roof!”

Jeongin had this stupid face he’d put on to get whatever he wanted. It worked with Sieun, and sadly worked for you, too. He wheeled himself over on his new four hundred dollar chair (“For ergonomics!” he had argued) and pulled you in between his legs. His arms wrapped around the back of your thighs and his chin rested on your stomach. The stupid, adorable, troublemaker face was up-turned brows, pouting lips, and eyes that twinkled from the lighting above.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “It just… feels nice to be taken care of right now.”

Ugh. Maybe you were being too harsh. A week’s worth of annoyance was nothing compared to a week’s worth of trying to glue back pieces of his heart together when they kept falling apart. Or maybe that was the spell he put you under with his dreamy eyes talking. You couldn’t think straight with your constricting office wear on.

You kissed your teeth. Your hand grabbed a chunk of his curly brown mop of hair and pushed him off of you. “You stink. Shower and get ready; you’re buying me new snacks at the grocery store.”

“But I don’t need to go grocery shopping.”

“You have one pack of instant ramen left; yes, you do.”

–

One of your first memories with Jeongin was the day before you both started secondary school. The last day of summer was spent under the stars on a trampoline in his backyard with empty cans of cola scattered out on the grass. Your heads touched while bodies were oriented in the opposite direction, semi-Spiderman style.

You were the first to voice what you feared most. “Do you think things are going to change?”

He shook his head adamantly. “Never.”

“Nothing is ever non-zero.”

“Must you nerdify everything?”

“It’s not on purpose. I can’t help it.”

“Except you could.” Jeongin sighed, whether out of disappointment or enjoying the feeling of the cool night air, you had long forgotten. His black, too-short-for-a-bowl-cut pin-straight hair poked your ears whenever he turned and knocked his head against yours.

“Ow,” you whined. “What?”

He pointed to the sky. “See that?”

“Stars.”

“Do you recognize the constellation, smartass?” Astronomy wasn’t your strong suit. “Scorpio and Lupus.”

You shrugged. “Who do you think would win in a fight: ten scorpions or one wolf?”

“That’s not the point of my question,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But the correct answer is ten scorpions.”

“What’s the point, then? Of anything, really?”

He pointed to the sky again. “Things will change only when the stars do.”

“Apocalypse-style?”

“Exactly. When they do, it’ll be the end of the world.”

You giggled, tilting your head closer to his. “Cornball.”

“What is a cornball, anyways? Like, a chicken nugget made of corn?”

“Genetically-modified corn in the shape of a ball.”

At thirteen, you both thought these conversations made you comedic, thought-provoking geniuses. They were typical teenage nonsensical word-smithing that’d later evolve into witty adult assholery, but they were ones you’d cherish ‘til the end of time.

“Never change, _____ _____.”

“You, too, Yang Jeongin.”

Tonight, the night sky was as clear as the night before secondary school. It’s been a couple of weeks since Jeongin moved in and progress was there, but it was slow. Some days, he’d spend all day in bed under the covers and you’d have to force-feed him sustenance and flip him over to prevent bed sores. Some days he spent the entire day deep cleaning the tile grout with a toothbrush until his knees were purple. The worst nights were like tonight, where you’d come home to an empty bottle of some mystery brown liquor you didn’t remember purchasing and him passed out on the couch.

It was exhausting for this short amount of time. It was a rollercoaster of emotions and outbursts and constantly having to take his phone away from doing something stupid like calling or texting her. This wasn’t the Jeongin you were used to; you wanted the one who sang tunes and trot jingles, the one who burned mac ‘n cheese on accident, the one who’d wave to little kids when you were out together. The unmoving body was just a shell of him, and just as he struggled putting the pieces of himself back together, you struggled holding the ones he was able to find in place.

You lifted his head by his curls and plopped it back on your lap after taking a seat.

“Careful,” he groaned. “There’s precious real estate up here.”

You didn’t speak, distracting yourself by playing with his hair. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks stained with drool and salty tears. Sniffles filled the silence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, words a bit slurred. “I don’t like when you’re quiet.”

“Ask yourself that question,” you replied, mouth full of salt.

“You’re mad at me.”

“I care about you.”

“You’re mad because you care,” he nodded, understanding, or at least pretending to. “I care about you, too.”

Caring wasn’t enough. No amount of love and tenderness from you could replace the one Sieun gave him, and that was evident. How were you supposed to hold him together when she was his reason? You could only do so much, and your best was never enough.

He pointed to the ceiling. “Do you think Scorpio and Lupus are out tonight?”

“It’s cloudy.”

“Oh. Is it?” he sighed. “But they’re still there?”

“They’ll always be there.”

“Together?”

“Together. Forever, of course.”

“How do you know that?”

Was he asking with underlying intention or drunken oblivion? “I just do.”

Jeongin snorted. “Boooo.”

“Boo, you!”

“Ugh, stop moving!” His lips pursed as he rolled off of you. “Nope. I need to throw up.”

You followed him as he crawled into the bathroom, hunching over his toilet bowl. You held his hair back for a bit before realizing you could tie it back.

“It’s so long now,” you admired while tying back his front pieces.

“Sieun hated it,” the toilet echoed.

“I liked it. Very ‘bad boy’. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Yeah. She’s stupid, right?”

“So stupid.”

“Yeah! And so bossy!” He paused, gagging into the toilet. “Bossier than you! Can you believe that’s possible?!”

“I’m not bossy, I just know what I like when I like it and how I like it,” you patted his back a little too harshly this time, “nothing bossy about that.”

“And it’s a wonder why you’re single.”

A sharp pang pierced your chest. Your relationship status was a touchy subject. It’s not that you preferred to be single, but your job was mentally demanding and sometimes required long hours past sunset. It wouldn’t be fair to your partner when your life was devoted to your career and climbing the corporate ladder. Dates were few, and not too far in between, but none of the prospects were worth the trouble when half of them expected you to pay the whole bill when they found out your occupation.

You loved love. It was beautiful, it was kind, it meant always feeling whole. Of course you wanted to be in love. Of course you wanted to touch, to kiss, to always be intertwined with someone. Life was young, and there was time, but the shroud of loneliness grew longer and larger as the days passed. Suffice to say, your single status hit a nerve.

You patted his back hard enough for him to gag one last time. “Good luck not puking your guts out.”

“No, wait -” but you had already shut the door.

It was the kind of topic that elicited a long, hot, reflective shower until the water ran cold. Were you one of those working women who were doomed by capitalism to serve as a corporate slave until you could withdraw from your 401k at fifty nine and a half? To live a mediocre life and settle down with a five-rated coworker for the sake of reproduction and contributing to lowering the birthrate? To settle for the mundane and predictable? That wasn’t the _____ you knew. At the peak of your young life, when did owning your first place meant that it was the beginning of the end?

When you walked out of the steam cloud, Jeongin was buried beneath your duvet, staring at the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the tired, but still awake city. When he first moved in, he mentioned how jealous he was of your nice bedsheets, and you wondered, in that moment, how many times had he napped in your bed without you knowing. Annoyed, but willing, you crawled in behind him, too tired to argue.

He wiggled back, making sure your bodies touched, though he wanted to keep looking out. “Being single isn’t bad… right?”

Was it bad? No. “I like my alone time.”

“But isn’t it lonely?”

It’s never ending. “Only a little.”

“Even when I’m here?”

Especially now, more than ever. “Just a little.”

“What’s your metric of ‘little’?”

Astronomical. “Like a pinch of salt.”

His breathing slowed, body ready to shut down for the night and hopefully awaken before noon. He wrapped your arms around him, begging for a hug, a bit of human connection, something to satiate the pain of wanting to feel whole with someone again. When you gave in, he melted into your touch. This feeling was familiar, but it wasn’t the same. You would never be her.

Just when you thought he fell asleep, you felt his chest jitter, suppressing a mouthful of sobs.

“I hate this,” he said, voice cracking, hands gripping your blankets while you played the big spoon.

You could only nod into the crevice between his wingspan. “I know.”

“What did I do wrong?”

“Sometimes, there’s a reason; sometimes, there isn’t.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” you confirmed and squeezed him tighter. “People fall out of love all the time.”

“Isn’t that fucking terrifying?” he sobbed. “One day, you’re flying, high on life with someone you thought could make forever feel like a day. Next, they tell you they don’t love you anymore.”

“Love is complicated.”

“But it isn’t! When you know, you know. It just isn’t as complicated as many people make it seem. So, what? She knew she didn’t love me anymore? That’s it?”

Complicated isn’t only when someone who once lit up your life now felt like their own fire within fizzled in the darkness. It wasn’t waking up one morning and deciding that they stopped loving you. Complexity was built with intention and time, overthinking and self-reflection. It’s as complicated as math; despite the many ways you could achieve an answer, there was only one answer. Sieun wasn’t a bad person; in fact, you liked her for the time they dated. You figured despite all her might and the many times she tried, she couldn’t force herself to love him anymore. It’s not like she woke up one morning and thought, ‘I don’t love him anymore.’ It’s never just, ‘that’s it,’ as Jeongin claimed its simplicity.

Complicated is spending every moment of free time with someone who knew the deepest parts of you without letting the romantic feelings slip through the cracks. It was intending to confess and ruin a decade’s worth of bonds, all for it to stay hidden with your many secrets when he admitted to finally asking out the cute girl he met through a mutual friend of Jisung. It was saying, ‘I love you,’ to end a phone call while suppressing the ache in your chest as he’d say it to someone else the same evening.

To Jeongin, it was just that. Love. How could one make it so difficult? But to you, there were layers, and someone had to peel them back before you revealed the true nature of your heart. Because after this, after Jeongin was healed and you were left with no one to hold you together the way you had for him, you’d have grown an infinite number of layers to protect yourself. Your future partner would have a lot of work to do.

“Love is an organism. Organisms are complex. It comes in different forms and has different functions. When I say, ‘I love you,’ you think I mean, ‘I care for you,’ right?”

Jeongin didn’t answer. Verbally, at least. His leveled breathing and rhythmic chest rises told you he was fast asleep in a drunken stupor while you had contemplated your answer.

“Yes,” you sighed, snuggling closer, “you do.”

–

Most psychologists would agree that the stages of grief had an order to them. Jeongin, PhD in grief, would say otherwise. In the span of a single day, he’d go between as many as three of the stages. Lately, it was a cocktail of denial, depression, and anger. Today, there was only anger. The drawers would be shut a little too loudly, he’d chew his food a little too aggressively, and his volume and colorful language on Discord closely resembled a sailor.

“Where’s the damn support?!” he screamed into the mic.

“You said you’d be in Zone A!” you heard Jisung yell through his headset.

Jeongin didn’t bother with a response and hung up the call. After whipping his headset on his bed with the strength of a baseball pitcher, he ran a hand through his tangled mop and swore under his breath.

You leaned on his door frame. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Shut up,” he whined.

“You know what would make you feel better?” You drew a rectangle with your pointer fingers, then wiggled the rest in a wave of flames. Then, boom! Big boom!

“No.”

“Jeongin -”

“You said I could wait until I was ready.”

“I think you need to be ready now.”

“I don’t want to hear anymore about that stupid box in your stupid closet with all the stupid fucking shit in it!”

If there was one act you wouldn’t tolerate from anyone, even with a bond thicker than blood, it was raising their voice. You had barely lifted your hand to point an accusing finger at him the same way his mom would, when he shut his eyes and realized his grave mistake. He knew he fucked up when your eyebrows were raised in that, ‘what did you just say to me?’ manner. He was also regretting how much time you spent with his mom.

“... Maybe we should take the box out,” he muttered.

“Yeah, no shit. Grab the hammers.”

Two adult-sized adult-aged children in hoodies carrying a mysteriously heavy box and a couple of hammers at a public park past sunset was not one would describe as inconspicuous. Jeongin was far from ready to address the box, you realized, when you were forced to carry it all the way and he refused to look at it. Even when you prepared the garbage bag and shuffled through the contents, he avoided any sight of strawberry blond hair and scents of neroli and jasmine. Semi-slicked with sweat, you took the box to the top of the jungle gym and dragged the big baby up to meet it.

“You left the trash bag down there,” he noted.

You nodded. “Grab that picture frame.” The first one was the red one shaped like a heart. You tilted your chin overboard. “Slam it.”

“Like, on the ground?”

“Yup.”

“That’s not very nice... Why can’t we just throw it?”

“Because I can’t be sure you won’t dig through the dumpster and drag filth across my floors.”

“Who do you think I am?!”

“Break it with all your might!” you demanded, pretending to be angry and Hulk-smashing on the stable platform. “Rah! Into the trash bag, though, please.”

“She gave this to me on our two-month-iversary. She said it was a symbol of her heart,” he reflected, gentle fingers wiping the dust that collected.

“And what did she do to yours?”

“Break it.”

“She stomped on it.”

“Yeah…”

“Crushed it!”

“Yeah…!”

“Stabbed it with a blunt butter knife!”

“Yeah!”

“And did it hurt?!”

“Like a bitch!”

“Rue the day!!”

“Rue the roux!!”

Someone’s hungry. “Yeah, sure!”

With a guttural scream passionate enough to elicit goosebumps, Jeongin chucked the heart frame into the trash bag that splayed on the cement. The plexiglass shattered into big chunks and the frame split in two, shards of wood scattering about. It was a picturesque and artistic display of anger and heartbreak, but you’d never admit how you admired the symbolism to Jeongin’s face.

“That felt good,” he panted.

“Yeah? Do this one,” you said, handing him a mug.

“We painted mugs to give to each other at one of those stores in the mall. She said I didn’t have enough pink things in my life, so pink would be her color for me.”

“Fuck the color pink!”

“I mean, I still like the color -”

“Innie, I’m giving free therapy right now and I need you to work with me,” you hurried him alone by rolling your arms.

“Ok, ok! Jeez. But even you look good in pink -”

“Jeongin!”

“Pink sucks…!” he admitted hesitantly before chucking it into the pile. A satisfying shatter of ceramic echoed into the cloudless night.

“Ooh, heartbreak ASMR,” you sang.

Jeongin pulled a pink lop bunny Sonny Angel, those naked baby blind box toys that will put you in crushing debt one day, from the pile of infinite junk. He twirled it in his hands carelessly. “Don’t you like these, too?”

It was a rarer, sought-out-by-collectors type. You and many others had fingers twitching over the overpriced pay button on the resale apps everyday. “No…” your voice cracked.

“How am I supposed to break this?”

“Pop its head off.”

“What?”

You pointed shakily to its cute, pink ears as it smiled innocently. Your hands pretended to yank apart the head from its body. “Decapitate it.”

Jeongin jumped at the low-effort strength it took, which masked your pained groan. There goes a hundred dollars. Then, he plucked away its appendages. You couldn’t bear to look when he tossed the innocent body parts. May you wish no ill will on any collector to ever witness such a murder.

The rest of the box was junk to a stranger, treasure to Jeongin. Things like concert tickets, an empty wine bottle, dried flowers, cologne, sweaters, and jewelry joined the garbage. The last piece was the final boss; a shadow box summary of everything they’d done in the past year. A collection of restaurant receipts, themed matches, movie tickets, polaroid pictures, and loving post-it notes of cheesy poems and ‘I miss yous’ were stabbed into the felt and protected by a thick cover of glass.

“I can’t,” Jeongin sighed, sharp eyes scanning through the memories. He shook his head. “I just can’t.”

“You know the ‘break for emergencies only’ thingies for the fire extinguishers?” you asked and pointed to the pink box. “This is an emergency.”

“She put so much time into this. Almost everything we’ve ever done is preserved… Just for her to throw it all away two months later.”

When he offered this perspective, perhaps your speech on love not being complicated was more introspective than universally accepted. Two months to know you stopped loving someone was not a long enough time. It took much longer than that to no longer be on the same page, or in the same stage of life, or, for fuck’s sake, fall for an affair partner, right? No matter what the answer was, it made you upset.

You could only offer an affectionate rub on his arm. “Do you want to save this for next time?”

Jeongin took an eternity to answer, as if he read every line of every receipt and every ticket or memorized the way she dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s. Then, he pulled you to him in a side-hug.

“There won’t be a next time.”

The frame of the shadow box split by the seams and only cracked the glass. The felt board was kept intact, of course, save for a few loose polaroids. He wrapped his second arm around you in a full hug, resting his cheek atop your head as your bodies swayed with the wind, needing the comfort of his best friend to protect him in this very vulnerable moment.

“You ok?” you muffled into his chest. He smelled of vetiver.

“No,” he admitted confidently, “I hope I will be one day.”

“You will! You will.”

You two remained on the top of the jungle gym overlooking the twinkling skyline in each other’s arms. His fingers traced little shapes across your shoulder blades, some recognizable like stars and moons, others a choreography of squiggles. Your arms rested holding his lower back. In the quiet night, miraculously not in fear of being arrested, you could have fallen asleep right there.

Tonight, you witnessed no tears or any evidence of them. No pink cheeks, or stuffy nose, or bloodshot eyes. Progress was here for now, and though it was too early to celebrate, you’d both bask in the little victories.

“I’m so proud of you,” you encouraged.

“Really?” he hummed.

“Of course! Always.”

His throat bobbed, swallowing down emotions that threatened to escape. “It still hurts so much.”

“I know,” you agreed empathetically.

“But the destruction helped.”

“See?” you boasted. “Who’s always right?”

“_____’s always right,” he squeezed, “always right and always kind.”

“And always here for you.” No matter how painful it’d be.

The night ended with slow dancing under the stars. Hand-in-hand and the other his shoulder, you led the steps to the beat of his songs.

–

Jeongin found no comfort that was better than your bed. The second you left for work, just as the sun rose and tinted the condo in blood orange, he’d sneak in and crawl under your duvet. When the softness of linen and the weight of the feather down knocked him out hard and for the first time in a month, he was able to fall into a deep sleep and would make this his routine until work started. His body had never felt so refreshed, even before the break-up. It smelled like you; like cherries, cream, and tonka bean. A scent cocktail that was so warm and sexy it was like he was put under a spell.

When you were kids, your room wasn’t dirty, but it was cluttered after falling into the feminine urge to gather all things shiny and trinkety. Now, he noted, adulthood hadn’t knocked that part of your brain out while still developing your frontal lobe. You didn’t have as many rocks lying around anymore, but your decoration consisted of naked baby toys and other colorful vinyl blind boxes, music albums, movie posters, and pictures of your loved ones.

Jeongin had looked through every picture in your room about a thousand times already, but only had now noticed that he was in almost every single one. Some were just with you and your parents, but even many of those had him in it. He liked the ones in your younger years; going through the gross and oily phases of puberty, matching ice cream-stained camp t-shirts, teenage-year birthdays, and his favorite was the one from prom night. You wore the sparkliest, glitter-sheddinng, not-the-most-flattering silhouette of a gown that many other girls matched in different colors. But he was just as ridiculous; too small in his poorly-tailored suit, sleeves folded, loose matching tie, and a crooked boutonniere. You both refused to do the prom pose because, ew, touching. So, you dabbed instead. Double ick.

If there was a picture with Jisung, he was in it. Minho? With Jeongin. Your girlfriends? Jeongin photobombed it somehow. He may have ruined some of the compositions, but he was your Jeongin, how were you supposed to throw them away?

Jeongin’s parents once asked if he would consider marrying his best friend. Knowing them, they were serious. At the premature age of twenty, he had gagged at the idea of marriage. Not to you specifically, but tied down? Early into his prime years of bachelorhood? No, thanks.

Then, he met Sieun, and thought maybe marriage was meant for him after all. Forever with the one person you loved so dearly, what could be bad about that? But forever meant really forever, not just a few years, or a few decades, it meant ‘til death do you part and into the afterlife, if that was even real. Maybe that’s what scared her. The thought of Jeongin being her soulmate crushed her world; the thought of her not being his soulmate crushed his. So, now he was back to square one, and he’d rather rot in your bed than make any progress.

Snuggled deep in between your plushies and pillows, he held above him a picture of you on your birthday. You were sitting next to him in front of your cake and had buttercream smudged on your nose while he was bent backwards in an evil cackle. He replayed the memory in his mind. You weren’t mad, but you wanted revenge, and shortly after had also smeared some under his nose in a stylish mustache.

In bed, he couldn’t help but snicker. In between sessions of handheld video games, he’d shuffle through more pictures until time passed by too quickly and the day was spent.

“Jesus -” you gasped, clutching your chest as you entered your room. “Yeah, sure, come in.”

“Thanks,” he sang half-heartedly.

“Have you been doing this every day?” He responded by shrugging. “He’s in pain, he’s hurting, and you love him…”

“I don’t like this picture of me.” Jeongin held up a recent one at a dinner party Hyunjin hosted for his condo-warming. His face was unprepared for the picture and his eyes were closed and mouth open. “I’m not even looking at the camera.”

“Yeah, but I look good,” you boasted.

He tossed it to the side of the bed in a pile of likeness dubbed, ‘throw these ones away’. “I like this one in front of the art museum, though.”

“I do, too.”

You hopped next to him on top of the covers, shuffling through the different piles he made. It was clear which ones he liked, disliked, and didn’t care for. “You don’t like this picture of me and Changbin on our graduation day?”

“Am I in it?”

“No?”

“Then, no.”

“You like this one, though?”

It was a solo picture of you on the same day. He found it hidden in a box of other pictures that were either blurry or of you alone at special events or academic and career achievements. You wore your gown and held your cap that was decorated with plastic jewels that spelled, ‘So Done with this B.S.’, high above your head with the brightest smile on your face. Around your neck was a necklace that he got you for your graduation gift: a petite padlock on a simple chain from one of those boutique brands all the girls liked.

This was one of the most important days of your life. You were happy, sunny, and beautiful. Of course he liked this one.

“Meh,” he shrugged. “I guess you look all right in that one.”

You spent the night in bed recalling stories and social media posts of times past with oily take-out from the corner restaurant downstairs. The quiet weeknight was livened by your giggles and ugly snorts and Jeongin couldn’t remember the last time you two did something like this. It lasted until it was too late to care to kick him out of your bed and you both fell asleep covered in film and prints.

If forever meant forever with you, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

–

Clubbing was a past time that Jeongin probably shouldn’t partake in due to his borderline alcoholism, but when it was for Jisung and Felix’s wombo-combo birthday bash (their words, if you’d even call them such), no one was safe from the heavy pour of Hennessey or bottom-shelf tequila down one’s throat. The weather was still appropriately warm to show off skin, and both you and your roommate took advantage of that, claiming that it was still hot-girl summer and this would be the best time to show off how perfectly fine everything was.

Jeongin rested his chin on your bare shoulder as you stared into the mirror. He had shown his affection more in a physical form after the destruction of his romantic paraphernalia. You should probably set some boundaries… Next time, maybe.

“You might as well go topless,” he teased, poking at your skin-tight top.

His touch tickled and your body stupidly reacted to it more sensitively than any other man who once touched you. “I’m sure you’d like that.”

He neither confirmed nor denied, only nuzzled his curls deeper into the crook of your neck. He styled it in the half-ponytail way you both came to love and work all black, sparkles of silver and pearls adorning his neck. Just as you had barely-there clothing, as did him, exposing hard-earned results of his efforts in the gym. His daytime clothes of soft linens and cottons dyed in innocent shades of blues and oranges matched his aura more than this edgy alter-ego that came out in the presence of alcohol. Soft Jeongin would be in a deep sleep tonight.

“Pearls?” you scoffed. “You slut.”

“Too much?”

“No, but you’re certainly sending the, ‘I’m single and very much looking,’ signal.”

“Perfect!” he shrugged. “When was the last time you went to a pregame, anyways?”

“When did you turn twenty-one?”

“Ok, grandma.”

You threw your hands up in defense. “I’m sorry I am a working woman.”

Skin touched more skin when his arm hooked your neck and dragged you to the door. The closer the taxi approached the condo, Jeongin’s hands more frequently wiped on his pants.

“Do you think she’ll be there?” he asked, sensing your concern.

“I don’t know,” you lied.

A couple weekends before this, you had personally asked the two celebrants to not invite her to the pregame. If they felt so inclined to invite her to the club for the sake of keeping the peace, at least then Jeongin wouldn’t have to be in close proximity and you could drag him away. Jisung was the one who tried to protest, but after begging and bribing them five rounds of drinks on the night-of, he caved in, though claiming he was going to not invite her anyways. He just wanted to see how far you’d go for your ‘beloved “friend.”’

“I need a drink,” he groaned.

“Look at me.” When he wouldn’t, you had to force him by grabbing his bare shoulders. They were much bigger than you remembered. “Say it with me; I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine?”

“I need more gumption, babe. Give me some umph!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine.”

“More!”

“I am smart, I am sexy, and I am fine!”

“Yeah!”

“Smart, sexy, fine!”

“Yeaaahh!”

“Let’s drink!”

After tipping the taxi for suffering through your pregame to the pregame, you and Jeongin did more breathing exercises outside their condo to the tune of the hip-hop music inside. All charged up, he opened the door and you stood in awe just how many friends two boys had post-university. The floors were already sticky with juice and liquor, and there was barely room to get to the crowd of people you actually knew. Luckily, Jeongin was tall, and he grabbed your hand to lead you in. This, for some reason, felt more intimate than slow dancing at the park, and that’s when you knew you were embarrassingly touch-starved.

Jisung squeezed himself in between and slung his arms across the shoulders of his close friends. “Long time no see, sugar mama!”

“Hello to you, too, mooch,” you smirked. “Happy birthday, I guess.”

He landed a big wet one on your cheek. “Thanks, babe!”

“Ugh, ew. Where’s the other child?”

“_____! Jeongie!” the deep voice of an Australian boy slurred. He handed you two plastic neon shot cups of brown liquid and no chaser. “Shot o’ Henny! House rules.”

“You disgusting, gross, icky boys…” you groaned.

“C’mere,” Jeongin urged. He twisted his arm around yours so they’d cross, causing your faces to inch closer. His dimples poked his cheeks. “Bottoms up!”

That was the motto of the pregame. One after the other after the other after losing games in humiliating succession made your vision double and made walking feel like you were on a ship. Chan had to catch you not once, but twice, from tripping or bumping into someone. It was as simple as one hand on your waist and pulling you into his chest, to which you so shamelessly placed your hand on when he hugged you close.

“We keep running into each other,” he grinned, biting his bottom lip.

“Must be fate,” you flirted back.

For the second time, Jeongin had to pry you away from the hottest man in the room. Annoyed, you followed anyway, because tonight you were supposed to distract your best friend from falling into a hole filled with existential crisis, not trying to sleep with someone he considered his brother. Still, you shot Chan a hand sign to your ear. ‘Call me!’ you pouted.

“Why would you cockblock me like that?” you whined.

Jeongin didn’t answer right away. He cleared his throat. “It’s time for the club, silly.”

You two shared a sedan with the birthday boys and Minho. One person above the normal limit, but the driver didn’t care and would rather hurry to do the drop-off.

Jisung patted his lap. “Got your seat, sugar mama.”

“No,” you and Jeongin said in simultaneous deadpan.

“Felix, move up,” Jeongin demanded. He man-spread as much as Jisung and Minho allowed, making a small seat in between his legs.

You’d be the first to admit that sometimes you and Jeongin were a little too close to be considered friends; even strangers had mistaken you for a couple once in a while. But you’ve never been close to him like this before. Your hesitation was long enough that Jisung had to yank you into the car. You did your very best to settle in, moving your ass as little as possible, struggling with how you could make this any less awkward and cover the least amount of surface area.

Jisung wrapped Jeongin’s arm tight around your waist and slapped his triceps. “All buckled in!”

As Jisung and Minho yapped each other’s ears off, you and Jeongin remained silent. If you turned to talk to him, your ass would graze his pants, and that was weird, right? Yeah, weird, and it seemed he had a similar thought. The exception was tapping his fingers on your waist to the beat of the radio. His breath tickled the skin on your neck, and your body betrayed you by heating up your face. Touch-starved was an understatement. No, horny was not the right answer; you’d refute it.

You couldn’t have crawled out of the sedan faster. The other boys rushed in to line up at the bar (“Don’t forget what you owe us!” Jisung whispered (yelled)). Behind you, Jeongin scanned the crowd. You followed suit and couldn’t find a beautiful short girl with strawberry blond hair. Ok, this was a good sign. Maybe she wouldn’t come! He let out a breath of relief; or was it disappointment? Regardless, he joined you on the dance floor and weaved between people, dancing against the oontz-oontz.

In this moment, while your veins were half-filled with alcohol and both of your closest friends closed in with over-filled cups, you watched Jeongin forget his woes and sing to the sad up-beat electronic music. A circle would open up in the middle at the peak of the song; Changbin would break dance; Minho and Jisung would body roll; Felix did the worm; and Jeongin would force you into a connected chain reaction of shoulder and arm waves. In these moments, he smiled. Grinned, even; dimples as deep as they could be and eyes twinkling under the neon lights from the DJ.

When the boys dispersed for another drink after a couple of hours of burning calories, you two were left alone again. In those hours, you couldn’t count how many times you made eye contact. After locking eyes again, feeling the highs of euphoria and the lows of heartbreak, he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he broke it, and his face dropped. You didn’t have to turn to see who it was, but like a moth to a flame, you were attracted to the pain.

She greeted Jisung and Felix at the bar on the opposite side of the club. It was too easy to spot her in the dark with her bright hair. She introduced the boys to someone next to her, touching his arm and leaning against him affectionately, making it as clear as the vodka shot in her hand that’s who she was with and he was hers.

How quickly the human heart beats for a lover, just for it to dance to the same rhythm for another.

Jeongin seemed apathetic. Not angry, not sad, and maybe unable to distinguish between if this was the ache of betrayal or the nostalgia of closing a chapter that begged to end.

Speaking of nostalgia, an old EDM song that premiered in your early years of middle school began, the familiar notes from a piano causing the whole club to scream.

You reached out to your soulmate. “You love this song.”

He smiled, eyes tired and filled with sadness, though without the reflection of a pool of stars. “I do love this song.”

You led him to the front where the DJ played Clarity. Lost in the crowd packed like sardines with strangers, you and Jeongin were free to sing out the shadows that slept in your hearts.

“Hot dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life,” you sang at a horribly off-tune. “C’mon, I know you know it!”

“If I fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time,” he sang in perfect key.

“Louder! Hold still right before we crash ‘cause we both know how this ends!”

“A clock ticks ‘til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again.”

You forced your heart to sing its song and it retaliated in waves of tragedy. As your lips stretched to retain the smile, you screamed with the crowd, “‘Cause you are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

And he joined in, matching your volume, matching your energy. “Chasing relentlessly, still fight and I don’t know why!”

In unison, you threw your heads back, crying into the air at the peak of the song. Like shadows, the crowd mimicked each other with hands curled into fists and hearts raised to the sky. “If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy? If our love’s insanity, why are you my clarity?”

“Let’s go!” you cheered.

The beat picked up and the crowd jumped to the chorus. The bass of the song reached your heart and pumped blood through your veins, tired from fighting with rationality. You would take these short five minutes to let go, let your heart confess to the boy in front of you in the form of a 2013 poetic masterpiece. Despite the meaning, the beat was too sick and you couldn’t help but grin from the fun. Jeongin wasn’t one to hide emotions for the sake of saving face, but it was like he forgot why he was screaming as he headbanged his way through the wordless chorus. You both burst into a fit of giggles, blinded by the lasers that cut through the smoke machine.

As the song progressed, the more your bodies pressed together. Side by side, mixing sweat with sweat, you both screamed at the DJ the second verse and would turn to each other again for the iconic bridge. His dimples carved into his perfect skin and this would be a core memory you’d lock away forever despite the molotov cocktail of despair that ignited in your gut.

The line you screamed to your best friend was the one that branded itself into your whole being. It was the one line he refused to sing.

“You are the piece of me I wish I didn’t need!”

He didn’t continue the pattern of bouncing off lines from each other. He stopped jumping, brows furrowed in a way that concerned you more than it concerned him.

“What?” you paused.

Jeongin closed the gap between your bodies. Surrounded by violent waves of people, you blocked them out within the bubble, unable to hear the song anymore. His hands cupped your cheeks. Your mind registered a second too late that he was wiping something with his thumbs. It felt wet and warm, freshly flowing on your numb face.

His hands left your face and found your arms. You watched as he wrapped them around his neck and his dropped to your waist. The strength of his grip was desperate and longing, filling an emptiness that physically you could replace, but lovingly couldn’t replicate. You begged your body to step away, to run out and find Chan or anyone else; to go home even, but tonight your heart controlled your mind and overwrote the command. This was what you wanted, what you needed, what you dreamed of since secondary school. To be in the arms of the one you loved fulfilled the one level on the hierarchy of needs, but was a threat to the one below it. Your body was struggling to respond to its fight-or-flight, understanding that you had long crossed the thin line between friend and lover long ago with a size thirteen shoe, but it had betrayed you and glued your heels to the sticky dance floor.

Why was Clarity the longest fucking song in the world?

The smell of his pink peppercorn and cedar hit your senses and brought you back to life. You felt his forehead against yours, nose touching nose, his breath tickling your lips, and saw his eyes float between them and your now dry eyes.

“Why?” was all you could muster against his lips.

He answered by swallowing your words. You never understood the comparison of the softness of rose petals until you felt his. You kissed him shyly, waiting for him to pull away in a shocking realization of regret and prepared for the aftermath. But when you wouldn’t respond how he wanted, he pressed harder, moving his lips hungrily and mouth open and welcoming to receive. Your tongues danced and tasted the bitterness of tonight’s drinks, old lovers, and repressed confusion. But it felt good; so, so good. To be the one he wanted for once, whether it was real or for convenience, was an opportunity you pathetically couldn’t pass.

And your heart, how it soared! With wings made of wax, you were high above the clouds, tangling yourself with him and exchanging euphoric hums. But your dreams were sculpted by Daedalus and delusion was the sun, and though you wished to remain here forever, your wings began to melt and reality wouldn’t be kind enough to soften the fall.

When you broke for air in the middle of the next song, you felt pressure rise in your nose and eyes as a million tears collected. You knew this wasn’t what he wanted; or rather, you weren’t what he wanted. He wanted the same memory, the same cry of song, the same touch, the same kiss, the same taste of breath; just not yours. He wanted hers. You knew in the deepest corner of your heart that he imagined holding her instead and that her breath was the one he’d breath in. In the ideal scenario, you’d be out by the perimeter watching your best friend win back the woman of his dreams and he’d hold her so tightly, afraid that she would drown in the crowd. You were meant to be his biggest fan, not his greatest love.

“Why?” you cried again.

He shook his head. “I just thought -”

“This isn’t right.” But you wished it was.

Outside, the busy streets in the middle of the night were deafened by the bass and proximity to the DJ. It was a miracle you heard the honk of a nearby taxi that’d take you home.

No, you wouldn’t confess to your best friend in a club downtown. No, you wouldn’t confess any other time regardless of circumstance. This was a secret the recipient of an unrequited love was supposed to bury with them to their grave because it was the deepest sin committed between two best friends. As long as you didn’t confess, the bond wasn’t severed and the damage could be repaired. That’s how it was supposed to work, anyways.

For the night, you’d lock yourself in your room. You’d close off any and all avenues in order to protect and repair the critical condition of your heart. So much of it had been chipped away and given in pieces to fill the gaps that Jeongin was missing, but now he was confusing kindness for love and familiarity with feeling whole. How would you get back the pieces of yourself you so willingly gave up? Would your heart know to create those pieces into something new, or would it reject anything that came in its place that wasn’t from him?

You arrived home and washed away the sins until your skin burned from all the scrubbings. The sky was cloudy tonight as you looked outward into the lively streets of young adults who could party until the sun snuck above the horizon. The stars wouldn’t show themselves tonight.

Would Scorpio and Lupus be there tomorrow?

–

When your door handle wouldn’t give, Jeongin gave up and retreated to his room some time after 3:00 AM. He laid in bed and hated the feeling of his bed sheets. They weren’t as soft and they didn’t envelope him in a blanket of clouds as yours did. Though the ceiling color was the same as yours, in a sense, it still wasn’t the same, as he was in his own room and not where he belonged.

You had burned into his soul. The way your lips felt, the way your tongue swirled, the way your hands pulled him in, was the answer of how much you yearned for him. He was no stranger to signs of affection. No friend would do all of this with their heart in platonic mode. You didn’t look at him the way Felix or Chan or the others did. You, with your softened eyes and gentle touch, had him in your heart, for the Gods only know how long.

Jisung was the one to kick him out of the club and kick what little sense was left in him. “Go after her, you idiot!”

His lips were tingly. The feeling of your hands through his hair, fingers gentle and tracing the map to your heart, was carved into his scalp. His tongue swiped across his lips, lonely and aching to have another taste.

You infected him. You forced poison down his throat that made him unable to sleep, torturing him with a recording of your body pressed on his. He blamed you for how it planted itself and festered into something more salacious; a similar scenario, with tangled limbs and messy hair, but in the privacy of your bedroom and much less clothing.

In the days that followed, you pretended that night never happened, but something changed. Your responses were shorter, your cheeks were pinker, you couldn’t hold eye contact without faltering to his lips, you wore baggier clothes, and couldn’t even spend more than fifteen minutes in the same room without having to leave to ‘get water’ or ‘go to the bathroom’.

Why, for the love of all the Gods, hadn’t you confessed yet? Isn’t that the rational next step?

“Why would she?” Minho snorted while kicking his feet up on your coffee table. Jeongin would wipe that down later.

“Why wouldn’t she?” he repeated.

“You understand you live here, too, right?”

“So…”

“So… isn’t that weird? What are you going to say? ‘Cool, I’m still not over Sieun though, sowwy. Can I still live here, though’?”

“But I am!”

“Yeah, right.”

“I swear. Seeing her with that guy… sure, it sucked ass, but I don’t know. No one ever likes to see their ex with someone else.”

“No one likes taking care of someone they love who loves someone else, either.”

Jeongin pulled the string on his hoodie and hid inside. “I just feel like a confession would get rid of all this tension -”

“Sexual tension.”

“Regular tension.”

“And change the trajectory of your friendship and lives forever, so much so that the stars would misalign and chaos would ensue. Just as the prophecy foretold,” Minho rolled his eyes. “You know what, Jeongin, you’re right - _____ should confess her undying love to her best friend of over a decade who just broke up with the first love of his life after they made out on the dance floor to fucking Clarity, of all the damn EDM songs in the world, and then all would be normal, right? Nothing good has ever come out of tongue dueling to an EDM song.”

“I don’t need your sass…”

“Yes, you do, because you’re acting like an idiot. I don’t care what Jisung says, he’s too much of a loverboy. Think rationally, here; she’s not going to confess to someone who she knows doesn’t feel the same way. It’s that simple.”

Love was an infectious disease and Jeongin didn’t have the proper antibodies to defend himself against your poison. His heart, his mind, and his body were firing alert signals to each other whenever he saw you. His body would block them when you came home in your work-out clothes; his mind couldn’t focus whenever you spoke to him; and his heart wrenched when your smile didn’t match your eyes.

“Earth to Jeongin!” you snapped, waving in front of his face.

“Hm?” he asked, pretending your chest wasn’t in his face. His mind did a double-take when it registered your outfit.

“I said I’m going out for the night. So, you know, don’t light my home on fire.”

“Out where?”

Your back stiffened. “On a date.”

–

When Minho hit you up during your lunch break on a Friday afternoon, you were half expecting him to ask when the meeting was with the developers. The other half was not expecting a proposition.

“I don’t date co-workers,” you deadpanned.

“Not me, genius,” he scoffed. “A friend.”

“I’m not interested in Jisung.”

“How we got promoted at the same time is beyond me. I have other friends!”

“Do they look like Chan?”

“Sadly, no. They don’t look like Jeongin, either.”

Since the clubbing-turned-friendship-destroying wombo-combo, Minho made it his mission to terrorize you about it every working hour, either in person or over Teams with kissing, tongues, and eggplant emojis. Each time, you couldn’t suppress the burning on your face and in your chest. Your showers had to be ice cold for you to not remember how his hands gripped your waist and to forget how warm his tongue was around yours. At work, you often found yourself dazed, looking out at young couples that passed the streets below, daydreaming about kissing Jeongin again every time a couple would kiss at the stop light before crossing the road, or kiss each other goodbye, or just because.

You were sick with the lovebug and there was no remedy available. What made Minho think a date would work?

“No,” you said.

“Come on, _____! Live a little!”

“No!”

“So you’re saving yourself for a man who only kissed you because he felt sorry for you.”

If anyone was going to tell you the hard truth, it would be him. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “You think I can’t get over him.”

“I know you can’t.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t ask for this.”

“You wanted it.”

“Of course I did, so what?!”

“You need to either move on and forget it happened, or fuck each other and see where it takes you. Which would you rather tell Jeongin?”

Minho was brash, but he was right, in a sense. If you couldn’t feel comfortable in your own home, you’d be drained of all life and cease to exist, living as a hollow body that went to work and came home to sleep. But was moving on or sleeping with your best friend truly the only two options?

Maybe you were an idiot. “Not a date. A drink.”

“Same thing. I’ll set it up tonight.”

“Tonight?!”

“Take it or leave it.”

There was some satisfaction in the way Jeongin’s face twisted when you admitted to a date. Yes, you put on your tightest clothes; yes, you put on your favorite perfume; and yes, you weren’t wearing a bra. All of which Jeongin realized, based on the path his eyes traveled.

“A date,” he muttered. “With whom?”

“I don’t know. Minho set it up for me.”

“Minho?” he sneered, then shook his head. “And you’re going?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t go.”

“Jeongin -”

He stood from his seat on the couch. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I can’t -” you stuttered, unable to form the words you wanted to say in order. “I’m going.”

He blocked your path to the door. “I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“About that night.”

“Now?” you scoffed. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

“This is something I want to do. Please,” you begged, “let me go.”

“I think you don’t want to go.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I think I do.”

“Well, you’re wrong.” The familiar sting on your nose returned. “You don’t know anything.”

“I think -” he paused, voice caught in his throat. “I know what I felt from you that night.”

“You know,” you chuckled bitterly. “You know what, exactly?”

“I felt you. I felt ten years of frustration, of anger, of-of desire, of everything that is both good and bad -”

“Jeongin -”

“How can you say that I didn’t feel how your heart beat against mine, how your lips pressed deeper -”

“Stop -”

“No!” he cried out. “I won’t stop! I can't! I-I need to know.”

“Are you asking for something? Are you looking for an answer that you already know?”

“Yes!”

“Why?!”

“Theories can be proven wrong.”

“But why does it matter?”

His voice cracked and he couldn’t manage to look you in your glossy eyes. “We need to lay everything on the table for this to work.”

“What’s not broken doesn’t need to be fixed.”

“But it is broken! Everything’s broken! It’s all a shattered mess of pieces that don’t fit together and we need to repair what’s broken when it’s all laid out in front of us.”

“Why?” you stuttered. “Why tonight? Tonight, of all nights, when I have something that’ll make me forget about that night for just a couple of hours?”

Jeongin couldn’t answer. It could have happened any night. But the game of life threw in a time-sensitive prompt that changed the whole plot. The fact that you wanted to forget, but couldn’t, might be the only confession he’d get.

“I can’t keep revolving my life around you,” you whispered. “I can’t keep loving you the way I do and maintain the friendship you need from me.”

There it was, the confession he was looking for, but not in the way he expected you to admit. He thought you’d do so while looking at the ground, hiding your smile the way you would act shyly, and maybe it’d be a little embarrassing. But as you stood before him, you were standing strong, refusing to break eye contact, with tears streaming down and dripping from your chin. It was in a way that begged for him to see you for how you really felt; like he was ripping your heart from your chest with his bare hands.

Your hands curl into fists in an effort to stop the tears. “If I lay the pieces of my heart on the table, I can’t take them back.”

He stepped closer. “Why not?”

You stepped back. “Because I won’t be able to put myself back together.”

“I’m here. I was made for you; to help keep you together.”

“Not in the way I want. In the way I need.”

“Yes, yes to both!” Jeongin grabbed tissues to dab the tears from your precious face, as if your skin was coated in porcelain. “I want to make this work.”

“This friendship.”

“No.”

“I am not her!” your voice cracked. “I am not her and I can’t fill in for the gap she left behind.”

“I don’t want her. I want you.”

You still couldn’t accept it. It just didn’t make sense. You were made to care for him from afar, not stand by his side. “You don’t mean that. You had ten years. Ten years! It only changed because, what, you're desperate for touch and you're going after the easiest catch? It's pathetic. You're pathetic!”

Your sharp tongue was your greatest weapon, but Jeongin was left unscathed. You were hurting and had a decade's worth of hardened shells that were crumbling in front of him. Yes, this was all too sudden, and it didn't make sense, but he was losing you and he'd rather break you down into a million pieces and deal with the puzzle later if it meant you'd stay.

“_____,” he whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours as if the closeness would allow you to read his mind and hear his heart scream. “I can't stop thinking about you.”

You sucked in a breath. Those words felt like a spell that lit your body in flames. Your mind said to run, but your body and heart had overruled. You tilted your head and your noses touched. “What if this doesn’t work?”

“Theories were tested repeatedly to be deemed true.”

“Tested a lot of times.”

“A billion times.”

“That takes a very long time.”

“I’ll take forever with you,” he breathed on your lips. “If you’ll have me.”

Your iron grip on his sweater would surely leave a mark later, but you were too afraid to let go, too afraid that this moment was a dream and he’d disappear if you faltered. “I was yours for ten years. I’ve been waiting to have you.”

One soft kiss. “I took too long.”

Another, more needy, kiss. “You can make it up to me later.”

And another, one that mimicked the hunger from that night. “Now.”

“Hm, I don’t know… I have a date, remember?”

“Yeah, with me in your bed.”

Your giggles echoed throughout the condo when Jeongin threw you over his shoulder and ran to your room.

And so your heart soared again. Above the ether was the unknown, in the mythical heavens and forbidden territory. But you'd get there together, while your arms tangled with his and noses rubbing affectionately as your breaths combined in between long and slow kisses under your (and his) blankets.

The fine line you once refused to cross bent and folded with your bodies.

–

EPILOGUE

“Yo,” Minho greeted the phone.

“Hey, I don’t think I can make it tonight -”

“She’s sick!” Jeongin interrupted.

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Well, thank God!” Minho sighed.

“Huh?”

“Yeah, that was a lie.”

“What the hell/What the actual hell is wrong with you?” you and Jeongin yelled in disbelief.

“Because Jeongin is a possessive simpleton and _____ is a cheap date. Did my master plan work, or not?”

“Well, yes, but -”

“My work here is done, bye!” Minho hung up.

#yang jeongin #jeongin #yang jeongin fic #jeongin fic #skz #stray kids #skz fic #stray kids fic #i had to tw song lyrics cuz i have never gotten a writing ick so bad in my LIFE #TO THAT SONG OF ALL SONGS TOO #but it was fOr tHe pLOt

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thehandmaidenofcreativity · 22 days ago

Text

Pining Idiots (college edition)

Chapter 10: When I say party shenanigans, I mean SHENANIGANS

WC: 6,811; Rating: 18+

Read Chapter 9 here!

Chan and Seungmin attend game night to round out the perfect day. With the change in the dynamics of their relationship, a few things feel distinctly different as the night goes on. Everyone has a great time, and many of them are able to follow through on their own agendas.

Author's Note:

Like Halloween night, this party (and entire chapter) will not follow Chan or Seungmin's perspective so that you can get a better picture of everything going on and a little insight into both of their thoughts at times.

Additionally, this chapter kind of sets up several potential side stories that I may write within this au, as was one of the inital intentions when we discussed writing this fic. Hyunsung was the only original little bonus work, but as I wrote more and more, we realized there are a lot of things we'd like to see with these characters.

⋆⭒˚｡✧｡˚⭒⋆

When Chan and Seungmin arrive at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s apartment, they’re met with a chorus of cheers. Everyone offers them hugs and congratulations as if they’d just gotten engaged rather than just had their first date. Chan is a bit taken aback, and Seungmin probably would’ve been embarrassed in any other circumstance, but they’re both so incredibly happy to finally be together, especially after such a successful first date, that they welcome all the attention.

Hyunjin and Felix whisk Seungmin off to a corner to pump him for information. They pepper him with questions about what they did and how he was/is feeling. He’s laughing, struggling to escape Hyunjin’s grip on his hand only to be swept into Felix’s arms. “Okay, okay, chill guys.”

Felix nuzzles his face into Seungmin’s neck with a big smile. “Then answer our questions, Seungminnie!”

“At least tell us if you guys –” Hyunjin not-so-subtly checks to see how close others in the room are before continuing quietly “– had sex yet.”

Seungmin’s blush is immediate and deep. He tells them about his afternoon with Chan, including a brief description of their love-making, ‘cause that’s the only thing he could call it. The three of them are all giggles as they celebrate Seungmin finally getting to be with Chan the way he’s always wanted.

In the kitchen, Chan is giving a similar, though slightly less detailed, account of the date to Jisung and San.

“Oh a pottery date!” Jisung whips his phone out and starts looking something up. “Hyunjin is super into drawing and painting. Maybe I should take him to one of those places where you paint pottery or something.”

“Don’t you think you should actually ask him out before you start planning dates?” Chan teases.

Jisung pouts, but San speaks before he can. “I was going to recommend one of those wine and canvas places, but I guess that might be less fun when you’re underaged.”

Hongjoong comes up beside him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You can actually do that pretty easily at home; Seonghwa was actually talking about making a party of it sometime soon. You just buy the stuff and follow a Bob Ross video.”

“Is that why you have that painting in your bathroom now?”

“Yeah, he did pretty good, didn’t he?” Hongjoong’s smile is full of love and pride. He turns to Chan and Jisung. “You guys should take a look at it! And if you’re interested, tell Hwa; it’ll make him happy to know people would be down if he hosted it.”

They agree and start making their way out, drinks in hand. Chan goes to hand Seungmin a drink while Jisung goes to check out the painting. Wooyoung grabs Jisung before he hits the hallway, though, yelling about how it’s time to really get the party started and having everyone gather around him.

“You realize, once again, that this is not your house and thus not your party, right?” Hongjoong interjects as he enters the room.

“I realize no such thing,” Wooyoung pouts. “Seonghwa hyung, you want me to take over, don’t you?”

The grimace on his face seems to show that Wooyoung’s whining isn’t hitting the mark. “Woo, you should just relax and have fun. Hosting is more than announcing games; if you took over, I’d want you to handle everything, like restocking and cleaning up messes. You can have one night of not being the center of attention.”

“But hosting is fun!” Wooyoung is still pouting. “You should get to relax! I’ll handle everything.”

Hongjoong gives Seonghwa a smile and a thumbs up behind Wooyoung’s back. Seonghwa smiles gently at Wooyoung. “You’ll really handle everything, including clean up?”

“Yes!” When Seonghwa assents, Wooyoung asks him to go get as many green legos as he can. When he returns, he has a container with color-coded compartments, making it easy for Wooyoung to check the approximate amount.

“Okay, so here’s how this works,” Wooyoung begins, handing the container back to Seonghwa. “Hwa’s going to give you ten legos to use as your dollars. You also get 3 penalty shots to hand out if someone rejects your challenge. If you’re all down, we can just make tally marks on our arms when you give them to keep track.”

“The penalty shots are going to be blueberry soju until it runs out, ‘cause I don’t want any of that shit left in my house by the end of the night,” Hongjoong adds.

There are a few laughs and murmurs of agreement.

Wooyoung continues. “Whoever has the most ‘money’ by the end of the night wins. The game supersedes any other games we’re playing or whatever, so some might get put on hold while shit’s goin’ down.”

Everyone collects their legos then group up throughout the apartment to talk and start smaller games. Once the last person gets theirs, Minho announces that it’s time for the first challenge of the night.

“Wooyoung is going to strip down to his underwear and run around the building.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Wooyoung, holding a lego out to him. “Right?”

Wooyoung just smiles and starts stripping.

“I figured there’d be more drinking before Woo took his clothes off, but honestly, I don’t know why,” Jongho laughs.

Several of them go outside with him to witness, while others just look down out the window. When they come back inside, Wooyoung looking quite pleased with himself, Yunho offers him another lego to keep his clothes off. No one else offers any challenges while activities pick up. A group starts playing beer pong while another starts a game of Uno. As expected, Wooyoung establishes a few house rules for the game - kisses to make the skip sting less, one drink on a draw two, two drinks on a draw four, a shot if you fail to say uno.

Seungmin relaxes happily on the couch, watching Chan and Felix get adorably competitive playing Uno, playing with the rings on Hyunjin’s fingers while he animatedly explains the model he’s building for a class. Yunho sits in rapt attention until Yeosang comes up to challenge him to switch clothes with Hongjoong; theirs is the most drastic height difference of the group.

While they change, Seungmin goes to sit behind Chan, legs bracketing his body and arms wrapping around his middle. Hyunjin sits beside Jisung, who is laying another draw four down, to Felix’s dismay. Changbin giggles and whispers something to Felix.

“Got a challenge for ya, Jisungie.” Felix rarely looks so devious when he smiles. “Have you ever heard of a 69 push up?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Lame, Bin, you know I’ll be able to knock ‘em out easy.” He flexes his impressive arms to punctuate his point.

“We know you can handle push ups, Ji; the question is, how will you handle them when you’re lowering your face into Hyunjin’s crotch.” Hyunjin chokes on his drink, sputtering, when Changbin says this.

Felix gives him a vaguely apologetic and pleading look. “You’ll help with his challenge, right Jinnie?”

When he recovers, Felix comes to whisper in Hyunjin’s ear. He agrees, likely not wanting to watch Jisung ‘69’ someone else. With his agreement, Jisung’s cheeks heat up, but he doesn’t back down. Uno pauses as Yunho and Hongjoong emerge from the bedroom. Hongjoong is absolutely swimming in Yunho’s jeans and t-shirt; the shirt was already oversized on Yunho, so it’s nearly at Hongjoong’s knees, the neck wide enough to show off his collarbone as it sits askew with sleeves reaching his elbows. The pants drag along the ground by a few inches. Yunho, on the other hand, is lucky that Hongjoong hadn’t opted for skinny jeans tonight, or he wouldn’t have been able to get his pants all the way on. As it is, he looks like he’s prepared to walk through a 12-inch flood. The shirt is tight and small enough that it looks like a crop top.

Yunho’s bare midriff inspires several wolf whistles and catcalls. When it settles down again, Changbin makes sure no one forgot Jisung’s challenge. Hyunjin lays down on the ground, and Jisung props himself over him in push-up position. He needs to do 15 push-ups, but on number 8, Felix pops up and sits on Jisung’s back, the surprise of it nearly making him face plant onto Hyunjin’s junk.

Hyunjin lets out a laughing sigh as Jisung yells about dirty tricks. He finishes the set, but with Felix wiggling on the last one, he struggles a bit and ends up gently pressing his face into Hyunjin’s crotch for a second before he can push back up. Felix hops off, and Jisung scrambles back, face and ears burning red as he apologizes to Hyunjin.

For his part, Hyunjin is giggling. “It’s okay, Jisung, though typically guys kiss my face before they kiss my dick.”

This does nothing for Jisung’s embarrassment, his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open. The rest of the group laughs along with Hyunjin, who has clearly gotten bolder after a couple drinks. Seungmin gives Chan a squeeze as they watch Hyunjin lean forward, taking Jisung’s cheeks between his hands, and pull him in for a kiss.

Jisung still looks a little stunned afterward, but pulls himself together quickly. He stands, giving Hyunjin a hand and a cocky grin. “Do you wanna go get another drink?” They head off to the kitchen, smiling and giggling at each other as Jisung wraps an arm around Hyunjin’s waist.

⋆⭒˚｡✧｡˚⭒⋆

With this, it seems the challenges are picking up, because San and Yunho amble over; San plops himself next to Minho with a smile. “Can I kiss you for a dollar?”

Minho raises an eyebrow at him and glances over at Jeongin. “Like a peck or for how long?”

All eyes turn to Wooyoung, who preens with all the attention on him. “Let’s say kisses need to be 5 seconds or more!”

In lieu of a verbal answer, Minho grabs San by the nape of his neck and drags him in for a kiss. San’s hand lands on Minho’s chest, kneading into it gently. After several seconds, Chan finally just counts ‘4, 5’ out loud to signal an end to the kiss. Minho pulls back with a very satisfied look on his face as he smooths where his shirt that was rumpled under San’s grasp. Yunho drops a lego into San’s hand that he passes over to Minho.

Seungmin realizes he would’ve read way too much into Chan’s interference prior to their confessions. On the other end, Chan is just feeling relieved seeing the smile that Jeongin gives both San and Minho.

“Well, that was hot as hell,” Wooyoung announces before turning to Changbin. “Make out with me for a dollar?”

Changbin grins and holds out his palm. Wooyoung slams a lego into it; he grabs onto Changbin’s hand and drags him over to the couch. Reminiscent of Jeongin and San’s first kiss, Wooyoung straddles Changbin and starts kissing him, much to Jongho and Yeosang’s dismay as they’d already been occupying the couch.

Deciding that it’s time he really participates and ready to get away from Wooyoung’s enthusiasm, Jongho approaches Yunho. “I’ve got a challenge for you: post a picture of your toes on Instagram with the caption ‘first one’s free, next is $100.’”

As Yunho considers, Mingi steps in. “If you’re gonna do that, you’d better make ‘em look nice.” He looks around, noticing the big smile on Hyunjin’s face after hearing the challenge. “Hyuni, I’ll give you a dollar if you lotion his feet before he posts.”

A chorus of laughs and sounds of disgust fill the air as Hyunjin and Yunho shake hands in agreement. Yunho, much less put off by the couple making out on the couch than Jongho, plops down right next to them, leaning into Wooyoung as he takes his sock off.

Wooyoung’s retaliation is sitting back on Changbin’s lap and grabbing Yunho’s face to plant a smacking kiss on his cheek after proclaiming, “Oh Yuyu, don’t be jealous; I’ll kiss you, too.” He turns so he can sit sideways across Changbin’s thighs and watch the action.

Seonghwa materializes beside them to hand Hyunjin a bottle of lotion. Yunho’s socks come off, and Hyunjin gets to work. On the second foot, he pretends he’s going to take a bite before he applies the lotion. Luckily, Minho snapped a picture at just the right moment so that it looked like he actually did it. When he finishes, Yunho takes his own picture and posts it. Several of them make sure to go comment under the photo, some positive, some negative.

Seonghwa taps Wooyoung on the shoulder then tips his head toward the kitchen and his eyes light up. He leaves and comes back with a few boxes in his hands. “Since all other games have stopped, I think it’s time for a tournament!” Seonghwa pulls out one of those huge sticky note pads that teachers use and puts one up on the wall. It has a bracket already drawn onto it.

After taking a better look at the boxes, Yeosang says more than asks, “The pepero game?”

“How did you determine seeds?” Jeongin asks.

Wooyoung smiles, probably happy that there doesn’t appear to be any push back on playing. “Easy, age order.”

“Ah yes!” Jisung claps his hands, grabbing a stick and handing it to Jeongin. “That means first up is the baby and our resident grandpa.”

Chan sucks a breath in sharply, eyes to the ceiling, while Minho and Changbin laugh. maniacally.

Jeongin puts the cookie between his teeth and steps up to put his hands on Chan’s shoulders. Chan sighs and starts biting. Ultimately, his lovely, plush lips are his downfall, and he loses the game, but Seungmin is sure to give him a kiss and promises to win the whole tournament in his honor.

To do so, when the second round begins – 8 matches going simultaneously – Seungmin starts off strong. He offers Hongjoong a dollar to let him win. The junior is very easily swayed, but Mingi, like a devil over his shoulder, says that he should take a kiss instead of a dollar.

“You know what, that seems like a great idea.” Hongjoong grins at them before winking at Seungmin. “I’ve heard great things after all. I’ll take the dollar and a kiss.”

Seungmin and Mingi both blush at that.

“Better decide quick before other people finish and notice us not playing.”

Seungmin drops the lego into Hongjoong’s waiting palm. Then he leans in and kisses him. He does his best to live up to his reputation, and it seems like he succeeds when he pulls back to see the slightly dazed smile on Hongjoong’s face. And with that, Seungmin’s on to round 3.

Minho wins his match against Felix and sees that he’ll be facing Seungmin next while Changbin’s victory over Mingi pits him against San. He sidles up to Changbin, mischief in his eyes. He gets up close to his ear and whispers, “Did ya see how San won?”

Changbin jumps with a yell. “Damn it, Minho. I’m getting you a collar with a bell.”

“Kinky.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Changbin laughs. “Why does it matter how he won?”

Minho boops him on the nose. “It matters, ‘cause that’s how I want you to lose.”

“Why would I do that?” When Minho holds up a dollar, he shrugs. “Okay, how’d he win?”

“When they got close, Woo decided to stick his tongue down his throat. That makes at least 4 of us who have kissed him tonight. Did you see Innie’s face after I did?”

Changbin glances over at their youngest friend. “He definitely didn’t seem unhappy about it.”

“So, I wanna test a theory.” When Changbin looks like he’s going to interrupt him, he puts his hand over his mouth. “You know I won’t play any games that’ll hurt him. If it looks like it might, I’ll stop and talk to him. But until then, let’s see how many people we can get to kiss San tonight.”

Just then, Yunho bursts out laughing; Mingi reads over his shoulder and follows suit. After the third time they’re asked, Yunho explains that he’s already gotten two requests for more feet pics, one has already sent a payment through.

“Oh my god, Yunho delete the post!” Seonghwa laughs.

“No, leave it up!” Wooyoung yells immediately. “Make that money, make purse, baby!”

Jongho waves a dollar in front of Yunho’s face. “Split the money with me since I made you make the post from the start. And I’m with Woo, leave it up and see how much we can make.”

“We?” Yunho side eyes him. “I never agreed to splitting it or actually sending more pics.”

Jongho gives him a flat look. “But you’re going to, aren’t you?”

Wooyoung claps his hands and raises his voice then. “While Yunho thinks that over, the show must go on! Time for round three, bitches!”

Minho shoots a look at Changbin, nodding back when he salutes him. He steps up to Seungmin with a grin. “So I heard you say you’re winning this whole thing for Channie?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin laughs. “Wanna forfeit to help me?”

Minho makes a face. “Nah, I only cheat at games for me.”

Seungmin cocks his head and gives him one of those smiles that’s downturned at the edges. “Fair enough.”

When they begin, they’re both careful and slow; Seungmin is trying to figure out how to ensure his victory when Minho surges toward his face and his tongue is suddenly in his mouth. He’s probably less startled than he should be, but considering how the night’s gone thus far, Seungmin expects many more kisses from people who aren’t his boyfriend tonight; so he goes with it, wrapping his arms around Minho’s waist and drawing him in. To his delight, the move does seem to surprise Minho, who lets out a cute little squeak.

“What’s wrong, Minho,” Seungmin giggles, tightening his grip. “Thought you wanted to kiss.”

“Watch yourself, Kim Seungmin,” Minho narrows his eyes at him. “Or you’re gonna get what you ask for, and you can’t handle me.”

Seungmin rolls his eyes with a smile. He risks dropping a quick peck on Minho’s lips before he bolts away from his grasp. Minho laughs and turns to find out the state of the tournament. He’s pleased to see San advanced, assuming Changbin followed through. That makes his next target Yeosang, though he’s barely even properly met him. Luckily, Changbin has a solution. The two of them step up to either side of Wooyoung wearing matching grins.

“I don’t know what this is, gentlemen,” Wooyoung looks back and forth between them before wrapping an arm around their waists. “But I’m very about it. However, I’m in the middle of hosting a tournament, so maybe we should talk in a bit.”

Minho smirks. “What an intriguing prospect. We should talk about this later, but for now, we need your help before the next round begins.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow at him. “Go on.”

“We’ve decided to try to get everyone here to kiss San tonight. Can you get Yeosang to throw their match to kiss him?”

“Is that how he beat you, Binnie?”

“Yep.”

Wooyoung laughs. “Me too. I’m not sure Sangie is gonna be down to cheat at the game, but I feel like San might do it so each of his rounds for sure ends in a kiss.” He skips over to get San on board.

“An ‘intriguing prospect,’ hyung?” Changbin cocks his head at Minho, his tongue darting out before he pulls his lower lip between his teeth.

Minho steps in close to him, lips grazing Changbin’s ear when he leans in close. “It’s not like we haven’t considered it before.”

Across the room, Wooyoung starts the next round. Seungmin places his hands on Jeongin’s waist as they start. As they get close, he squeezes gently; Jeongin jerks at the touch, causing his lip to make contact. Seungmin celebrates his win as Jeongin accuses him of cheating. They look to Wooyoung to make the call.

“I didn’t see any cheating,” he says truthfully, as he’d been watching as San grabbed and dipped Yeosang like they were dancing, then kissed him passionately. Seungmin could’ve done anything, and he would’ve been none the wiser; his level of drunkenness doesn’t lend well to multitasking. “Seungmin wins! Final round: Yeosangie vs. Seungminnie. Let’s go!”

Yeosang is still swooning just a little after the kiss. Seungmin ops for going the way he did with Hongjoong, offering a dollar for the win. He doesn’t have much time to consider as Wooyoung is loudly repeating ‘let’s go’ until they put the cookie between their teeth. Yeosang ends up shying back, allowing Seungmin to win.

Chan scoops him up in a celebratory hug. Seungmin holds on tightly. “Told you I’d win for you, babe.” Chan blushes deeply as he nuzzles his head into the crook of his neck.

⋆⭒˚｡✧｡˚⭒⋆

“Alright, you guys are adorable, blah, blah. I need you both to kiss San.” Minho narrows his eyes at both of them in turn.

Seungmin smirks as Chan sputters, “Why would you need us to do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you want to do it?”

“Well, I mean, to start, we’re dating now.”

“That didn’t stop Seungmin from sticking his tongue in my mouth like 5 minutes ago.”

Chan swings his head around to look at Seungmin with wide eyes. Seungmin shrugs. “He kissed me first; how else was I supposed to assert my dominance?”

He and Minho both cackle as Chan looks bewildered. “I don’t know how much I like you two getting along now. Seems like it’ll be bad for my health.”

“Don’t worry, Channie,” Minho pats his cheeks. “I won’t steal your man. Anyway, San has kissed the most people at this party, so I decided I want to get him to kiss everyone here. So you’ll do it? I’m willing to pay.”

“Sure, but I still don’t understand why,” Seungmin shrugs. He holds out his palm and Minho drops a couple dollars into it and flounces away. He leans in close to his boyfriend, speaking softly. “I guess we didn’t actually talk about our comfort levels with things like kissing our friends for games and stuff. I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I? We don’t have to kiss San.”

“No, baby, it’s okay.” Chan kisses his cheek. “I know you’re comfortable with that kind of thing, and I am, too. I’m not really concerned about it when it’s, like, party games… If you’re wanting to kiss people in another context, we can discuss that another day.”

“Baby, huh?” Seungmin teases, smiling wide at the blush creeping up Chan’s chest. He wraps his arms around Chan’s neck, resting his forehead against his, as Chan’s take their place around his waist. “I’m not interested in kissing anyone besides you outside of games. Except maybe Seonghwa, ‘cause Felix says his kiss game is, like, god-tier, and I feel like I should experience it.”

“You’re such a brat,” Chan laughs before capturing Seungmin’s lips with his own. They’re in their own world for a minute until Minho hip checks Chan, breaking their kiss.

“I said kiss San, not each other. If you’re not going to, give me my legos back.”

“Keep your pants on, we’ll get to him.”

Minho narrows his eyes at them. "Actually, I have a better idea. Carry on.”

Seungmin looks back at Chan. “That’s not a good sign, is it?” Chan shakes his head with a laugh.

In no time, Changbin, Jeongin, and San are in front of them. “Minho said they’ve already agreed and taken their payment, so you’re all good. Right, guys?”

At their agreement, San takes a step closer to them, sneaking a glance at Jeongin, who looks like he’s holding in a laugh. “So I’ve never actually kissed two people at once, do we just go for it?”

Chan and Seungmin’s heads whip around to find Minho coming toward them with a shit-eating grin. “You guys wanted to keep kissing each other, right? Also, Woo says threeway kisses should be at least 7 seconds since there’s more people involved. Hop to it.”

Wooyoung slips in between Minho and Changbin, an arm around each of their shoulders. “Yes, at least 7. Also, why am I so naked and other people aren’t? Sannie, Channie, I’ll give you both dollars if you take your shirts off, too. I know what San’s got going on, –” he throws a wink in San's direction before looking Chan up and down– “and you’re clearly nothing to sneeze at, so leggo.”

Chan and San blush furiously while the rest of them start laughing. Seungmin encourages Chan to submit to Wooyoung’s will; when he starts pulling at the hem of his shirt, Chan allows him to take it off of him.

Across the room comes an exasperated “fuck, man!” from Jisung. He makes his way over, Hyunjin, Mingi, and Juyeon on his tail. He puts a dollar in Changbin’s waiting hand, then digs his wallet out of his pocket and throws in an actual 5 dollar bill. “Where’s your shirt, Chan? Bin didn’t get you to take it off, did he?”

“You said you guys were done betting about whether or not I’ll keep my shirt on!”

“I did no such thing.” Jisung crosses his arms over his chest with a smug look on his face. “I simply acknowledged that you did not approve and agreed to stop making it happen.”

Chan rolls his eyes, but before he can respond, an also shirtless San leans in and whispers to him and Seungmin. “Minho and Jeongin are threatening to start a chant if we don’t kiss, and we already have a small crowd now. Should we get it over with?”

Seungmin brings a hand to his chest. “Kissing me is something you want to just ‘get over with?’ Maybe we should let them chant so everyone can come witness your hardship.”

San lets out an adorable whine, turning pleading eyes on Chan. “How do you deal with all these menaces?”

Chan smiles at him half fond, half apologetic. “Minnie, I assume you’re okay with this threeway kiss nonsense? Come here before everyone gathers around to watch.”

It’s kind of awkward, but not as bad as any of them thought it would be. Kissing to avoid additional attention ends up failing, though, as Changbin starts a slow but loud count for them, and everyone near them follows along. When they hit the 7th count and break apart, even Seungmin is feeling a little embarrassed in the midst of all the hooting and hollering.

Luckily, a distraction comes in the form of a shout from Hongjoong. “Absolutely not! If you wanna make a fire, it has to be outside!”

“But that’s against the spirit of the challenge” Jongho faux whines as they walk into the room.

“I don’t care, you can’t set a fire in my house!”

“Okay, okay, no fire. Where’s Woo?” Jongho looks around until he finds him in the crowd. “Let’s go outside.”

Obviously, Wooyoung immediately agrees and heads toward the door, but Seonghwa catches him around the waist. “Oh no, if you’re going outside, you need to put pants on first. Joongie, no fire outside either, please. We don’t need someone calling the police or something.”

“I will put pants on, if you give kisses,” Wooyoung gives Seonghwa a big smile that widens even further when Seonghwa smacks a kiss on his lips without question. “I actually meant kisses for Sannie, but I’m happy I get one, too.”

Seonghwa sighs. When Wooyoung refuses to put pants on in return for his kiss, he ends up giving San one as well. With the promise of no fire-related challenges, a few people follow them outside to see what his challenge ends up being. It’s simple, laying in the street for 60 consecutive seconds. He only has to restart twice because of cars.

While they wait, Yeosang is challenged to set off his car alarm the next time a person walks by; it ends up coinciding with Wooyoung’s success, so it goes off as he’s standing up. To everyone’s surprise, what turns out to be a goose comes flying out of the guy’s arm, its honking drowning out whatever he’s yelling.

“Is that a fucking goose?” Wooyoung yells as it lands near him and starts waddling away.

“Gerald!” The guy starts running toward him, stumbling a bit. “Help me catch him!”

Without question, Wooyoung is running after the goose with this stranger.

“I always knew Woo would be outsmarted by a goose one day.” Yunho’s comment was met with a few solemn nods.

“Jyunyangie, isn’t that Eric?” Felix directs his boyfriend away from himself to look at the man running around with Wooyoung.

He squints into the distance. “Huh, it is. Eric! Leave the goose and come inside!”

Shockingly, Eric immediately stops and shouts, “But how am I going to get it drunk if I can’t catch it?”

“I don’t think you need to get it drunk, bud!” Juyeon calls, rolling his eyes. “Come back inside with us, and you can get a person drunk instead!” He tilts his head in contemplation. “Is it okay for me to invite him to join us? I could always take him home or back to wherever he wandered away from.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s fine,” Yunho says. “Especially considering he and Woo are literally going to be best friends by the time they reach us.”

They watch as the two of them make their way back up the street, arm in arm, words flying between them at a mile a minute. Challenges complete, everyone heads back inside. They’re met with the glorious sight of Mingi and Hyunjin giving San and Changbin, respectively, lap dances to the wonderful musical stylings of Seungmin, who is showing off his fantastic rap skills.

“My man, why have you not invited me to a party here before?” Eric asks as he takes it all in, not noticing the way the rest of the outside crew’s faces range from amused to shocked. Wooyoung takes him into the kitchen to get a drink.

As Seungmin wraps up, Minho lays a hand on the nape of Hyunjin’s neck, slowly guiding his head toward San’s. Hyunjin’s movements slow to a stop as their lips meet. Mingi gets distracted by the scene as he moves to get out of Changbin’s space, losing track of his actions and turning to just sit in Changbin’s lap. Changbin’s laugh rings out as his hands land on Mingi’s hips.

Minho sits beside Changbin with a smile. “Just a few more to go now: Yunho, Jongho, Felix, and Juyeon.”

“Oh, flag on the play there, Min,” Changbin squeezes Mingi’s sides, shocking a squeak out of him, but effectively drawing his attention away from the couple making out. “Aren’t San and Jongho cousins?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Mingi looks between the two of them. “Why?”

“Just saving Minho from asking a dude to kiss his cousin.” Mingi still looks very confused. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Look, your boyfriend is back, and I think he’d rather you sit on his lap than mine.”

The way Mingi’s face lights up when Changbin says ‘your boyfriend’ is incredibly endearing. He skips his way over to Yunho, slapping Hyunjin on the butt along the way as the other extricates himself from San’s lap.

“Well, they’re adorable.” Changbin smiles at his retreating form before turning his attention back to Minho as Chan slides into the seat next to him, snuggling up. “I feel like you’ve gotta be running out of tricks if you’re just pushing people’s faces together at this point. What’s your next play?”

“Why don’t you suggest another game?” Jeongin suggests as he sits on the arm of the couch. “How many do you have left?”

“Wait, are you in on this whole thing, too?” Chan looks up at him, surprised.

Jeongin shrugs, but his smirk says that he is. Seeing Minho hold up three fingers, he says, “Let’s play Suck and Blow.”

“Tell Woo, he’s in charge.”

Before Minho can even finish the sentence, Changbin is blowing all their eardrums, yelling for Wooyoung. A moment later, the man in question plants himself in Changbin’s lap, arms, wrapping around his neck and throwing his legs over Minho’s. He wiggles his brows at the two of them. “You trying to get out of here?”

“Not quite yet. Time for a new game,” Minho smirks.

Wooyoung’s pout turns back into a grin in record time. They hash out the details while Chan and Changbin go off to find Seungmin and Felix. Hyunjin has found them as well, arms wrapped around Seungmin’s neck, leaning into him.

Changbin steals a glance over at Chan, happy to see the smile on his face. “Guess it’s a lot easier to see them like that now, huh?”

“So much, Bin,” Chan laughs. “I’ve spent so much time being jealous and anxious about him, but now I’m just happy he has Seungmin, and that he helped me to have him, too. What about you? Is something really happening there with Woo, Min, and you?”

“I’m sure nothing tonight, at least,” Changbin’s ears are turning red. “You know how much they’ve both had to drink.”

“Hmm,” Chan smiles. “A great non-answer there.”

“Channie hyung!” Hyunjin wraps around Chan instead the second they reach him.

Chan is laughing as he holds tight to his waist. “Does this mean I’m completely forgiven?”

Hyunjin giggles and kisses him full on the mouth. “Yes! ‘Cause you wouldn’t help me with Jisung if you thought I was a cheater, and you love our Seungminnie.” He turns to Seungmin, beaming. “Minnie, you were right; his lips are so soft! Can I kiss him again?”

Seungmin, Felix, and Changbin are laughing as Chan’s blush spreads down to his chest, nearly glowing pink. Seungmin catches Chan’s eye and gives him a gentle smile. “Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

“Yay!” Hyunjin air kisses at Seungmin before turning back to latch onto Chan’s mouth, the latter starting with a small squeak, but returning the kiss nonetheless.

Changbin’s eyes are tearing with his laughter. “Hyunjin, I’m pretty sure he was talking to Chan.”

“Nah, he got it right,” Seungmin shrugs. He raises his voice a tick. “Though I wonder, –”

“Wait!” Felix interrupts, grabbing Seungmin’s shoulders and turning him so that they’re face to face. He pulls a couple dollars out of his pocket and comically pulls open the front pocket of Seungmin’s pants to drop them inside. “I still haven’t gotten to kiss you, yet!”

With his ‘payment,’ Felix clearly is on Hyunjin’s level and assumes it’s a done deal. His hands land on either side of Seungmin’s face, pulling him in for a soft press of his lips.

“You gave him multiple dollars for – oh.” Before Changbin can finish his sentence, Felix is diving back in, kissing him as if his life depends on it. Chan and Hyunjin pull apart, watching as Seungmin’s hand finds its way into Felix’s hair while the other pins him against himself, spread across his lower back. He pulls at Felix’s blue locks just a bit, and they all hear his answering moan, muffled by their lips.

“Well damn, Felix,” the goose guy, Eric, says as he approaches. “Juyeon, does your boyfriend have a boyfriend? That’s hot.”

Juyeon good-naturedly slaps him on the back of his head. “You’ve heard of Seungmin, Lix’s old roommate.”

“Yo, the guy Kev hooked up with the monster co–”

The elbow to his ribs keeps Eric from finishing his sentence, and once again, everyone’s laughing, including Seungmin and Felix.

“Get your money’s worth?” Seungmin smirks.

Felix kisses him one last time, short and sweet, before bouncing into his boyfriend’s arms. “Yes, thank you Seungminnie! Having fun so far, Eric?”

“Gather ‘round, everybody!” Wooyoung shouts from his spot near the couch. “Time for another game!”

“Oh!” Changbin remembers why he was looking for Felix in the first place. He puts his hand out to block Felix and Juyeon from moving toward the party master. “Will you both drop the card and kiss San for a dollar?”

The couple looks at each other. “Sure?” Juyeon accepts the legos, and they join the others to listen to Wooyoung split them into teams. He tells them they’ll play best of three, he and Minho are team captains. He heavily implies that there’s a bet riding on one of their victories, though those who are in the know recognize it as an unnecessary diversion technique. Juyeon and Felix set up on either side of San. In the first round, Juyeon lets the card fall, bringing them to the final two needing to kiss for Minho’s little game. Felix goes next, playfully nipping at San’s lip when they part; Minho and Jeongin’s brows both raise at that, though Jeongin only smirks when he sees the resulting smile on San’s face.

“For fuck’s sake,” Yunho throws his hands up. “I wanna play! Switch me.”

Juyeon trades places with him, and when he’s about to pass the card to San, Yunho turns his head to blow the card aside, grabs San, and dips him low as he kisses him, like he’s in a movie or something.

Cheering erupts from Wooyoung, Minho, and Changbin, setting off most of the rest of the room. Jeongin walks over and drops nearly all of the legos he started with into Minho’s hand. He then grabs San, dragging him over to an armchair; Jeongin sits and pulls him down into his lap, devilish smile on his face as he draws him close and starts to whisper in his ear.

⋆⭒˚｡✧｡˚⭒⋆

A group decides to play again, for real this time, while Minho, Changbin, and Wooyoung slink off to the kitchen. Chan takes a page out of Jeongin’s book, pulling Seungmin onto his lap on the couch; he nuzzles his head into Seungmin’s chest, arms coming around his slim waist like a belt. “Are you having fun, Minnie?”

“Yeah. Honestly, this has been so much better than most of the parties we’ve been to this year.” Seungmin’s smile is nothing short of lovely. The alcohol and excitement leaves a pretty blush across his cheeks that Chan wants to kiss every inch of. He doesn’t notice Seungmin examining his own face, thinking nearly the exact same thing. “And not just because I know that when all the games are over, I’ll still get to kiss you. Whenever I want.”

Their eyes connect then, the magnetic pull between them becoming irresistible, luring them in until their lips meet. Despite the abundance of (mostly) platonic kissing tonight, it feels like it’s been a lifetime since the end of their date when they last kissed like this. As if their bodies had been waiting to recognize home in the form of the other’s lips.

A while later, someone knocks into them, breaking the spell. Minho clearly bumped them on purpose, based on his expression. “Seungmin-ah, I think your Hyunjinnie is looking for you, and I need to borrow Channie hyung.”

When Seungmin finds Hyunjin, standing between Jisung’s thighs as the latter sits on the kitchen counter, heads together, voices low, he realizes that Minho had just been getting rid of him. Still, Hyunjin could be spacey when drunk, so it’s possible he had been looking for Seungmin at some point.

“Hey Jinnie, Jisung,” he ventures. “Were you looking for me, by chance?”

“Minnie!” Hyunjin draws out his name for a few seconds. “Isn’t Jisungie so handsome? And he kisses as well as Chan. We’re so lucky.”

Jisung is torn between being embarrassed and proud. Hyunjin just looks so happy and comfortable. Seungmin feels a certain warmth in his chest. “We are. What about you, Ji, feeling lucky?”

“Incredibly.” Jisung leans toward Seungmin, stage whispering his next thought. “Honestly, this seems like a dream. Is he real?”

Hyunjin giggles, swaying on his feet a little. Seungmin almost wonders if he did it on purpose so that Jisung would return his hands to his hips. Seungmin leaves them to it, wandering back out into the living room. Chan and Minho have been replaced by Seonghwa and Hongjoong on the couch.

It’s nearing 4 a.m., and it seems like people are starting to clear out. San and Jeongin pulled an Irish goodbye a while ago, as did Jongho. Felix and Juyeon head home with promises of texts when they arrive home. A bit later, Yunho, Mingi, Yeosang, and surprisingly, Eric say their goodbyes; Eric has heart eyes, following Yeosang right out the door. Seungmin accepts a kiss on the cheek from Seonghwa as his group finally makes their way to the door, Wooyoung in tow. Hyunjin bemoans not getting to kiss Seonghwa tonight until Jisung reminds him that they can kiss a little more to make up for it.

⋆⭒˚｡✧｡˚⭒⋆

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dazed--xx · 1 year ago

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🥀Heartbreak Playlist 🥀

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: Now suddenly you're asking for it back Could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? Yeah, you could say you miss all that we had. But I don't really care how bad it hurts…..When you broke me first

Post Date: 01/17/2024

T/W: Mentions of Cheating, Break Ups, arguments, drinking, manipulation, crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, mentions of being drunk, yelling, sad ending

Word Count: 2.7K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: Little do you know, How I'm breakin' while you fall asleep. Little do you know, I'm still haunted by the memories. Little do you know, I'm tryin' to pick myself up piece by piece. Little do you know ……I need a little more time

Post Date: 01/20/2024

T/W: ANGST..,crumbling marriage, mentions of divorce. Mentions of anxiety, mentions of panic attacks. Mentions of neglect in a marriage, crying, begging etc

Word Count: 2.7K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: I tell myself you don't mean a thing. And what we got, got no hold on me; But when you're not there, I just crumble. I tell myself I don't care that much; But I feel like I die 'til I feel your touch Only love……Only love can hurt like this

Post Date: 01/28/2024

T/W:1930s Era, ANGST, historical inaccuracies, Prohibition, cursing, mafia, talks of murder, mentions of guns, Molotov cocktail, gun violence, harassment, neglect in a relationship I guess, mentions of illegal activity, life threatening injuries, mentions mafia war. Mentions of Bootlegging, mentions of Shylocking. Sad ending

Word Count: 5.1K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: I'm sorry, don't leave me, I want you here with me. I know that your love is gone. I can't breathe, I'm so weak, I know this isn't easy. Don't tell me that your love is gone…..That your love is gone

Post Date: 01/28/2024

PLEASE READ AUTHOR’S NOTE!!

T/W: ANGST!!!!!!!!!!!!, hate comments, distant partner, mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, assault like legit assault, recording of an assault, hate speech. Cursing, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ACTIONS, Crying, Feeling alone, ambiguous ending, etc

Word count: 2.5k

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: Pictures I'm living through for now, Trying to remember all the good times. Our life was cutting through so loud; Memories are playing in my dull mind. I hate this part, paper hearts And I'll hold a piece of yours; Don't think I would just forget about it……Hoping that you won't forget about it

Post Date: 03/18/2024

Member: Seungmin x Reader

T/W: Break Ups, arguments crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, slight shoving nothing too crazy, some emotional manipulation, problem avoidance, denial, (subtle mention to woojin via blacked out photo he existed people he was in the group once), mentions of Minhos elimination in Finding Stray kids

Word Count: 2.3K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: Now the day bleeds, Into nightfall; And you're not here, To get me through it all. I let my guard down; And then you pulled the rug…..I was getting kinda used to being someone you loved

Post Date: 03/18/2024

Member: Changbin x Reader

T/W: Friend Break Up(cause romantic break ups ain't the only type that is heartbreaking), arguments, crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, ghosting, problem avoidance, flirty behavior, mentions of one night stand, mentions of friend with benefits relationships, innuendos, brutal honesty

Word Count: 3.2K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: Torn in two, And I know I shouldn't tell you. But I just can't stop thinking of you, Wherever you are. You. Wherever you are; Every night I almost call you. Just to say it always will be you…Wherever you are

Post Date: 03/19/2024

Member: Jeongin x Reader

T/W: Break Up, arguments, crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, ghosting, Long distance relationship, neglect, ambiguous aged female (17-22), emotional manipulation.

Word Count: 3.2K

⏪⏯️⏩

Summary: I've spent all of the love I saved. We were always a losing game, Small town Girl(boy) in a big arcade, I got addicted to a losing game. Oh,Oh.All I know, all I know……Loving you is a losing game

Post Date: 03/19/2024

Member: Felix x Reader

T/W: Break Ups, arguments crying, heartbreak, ANGST…, swearing, yelling, sad ending, Bet Au!, depressing thoughts, lack of communication, childish behavior, Avoiding S/O, mentions of sex, bullying, denial

Word Count: 2.1K

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elllisaaa · 1 year ago

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eli's 1k event masterlist

-> my event to thank you for all your support <3

-> fill in this to be added to the taglist of the event !

enjoy !

STRAY KIDS...

❃ as love songs

❃ as olivia rodrigo songs

hyung line | maknae line

❃ as the weeknd songs

ATEEZ...

❃ as love songs

❃ as lana del rey songs

hyung line | maknae line

❃ as chase atlantic songs

ENHYPEN...

❃ as love songs

❃ as the neighbourhood songs

❃ as isabel la rosa songs

SEVENTEEN...

❃ as love songs [tbd]

❃ as billie eilish songs [tbd]

❃ as two feet songs [tbd]

TXT...

❃ as love songs [tbd]

❃ as arctic monkeys songs [tbd]

❃ as i.m - overdrive songs [tbd]

XDINARY HEROES...

❃ as love songs [tbd]

❃ as melanie martinez songs [tbd]

❃ as ariana grande songs [tbd]

ITZY...

❃ as love songs [tbd]

❃ as rosé songs [tbd]

❃ as rosenfeld songs [tbd]

AESPA...

❃ as love songs [tbd]

❃ as halsey songs [tbd]

❃ as taemin songs [tbd]

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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astraystayyh · 2 years ago

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Backburner

Han x reader. Han is a toxic ex who won't let you move on. Angst.

Inspired by Backburner- Niki. skz song series masterlist

It's been seven weeks since you and Han broke up.

Not that you're keeping count, but it's easy to remember when he calls you every Saturday night. Without fault.

He's the one who broke up with you, flimsy excuses and teary eyes as he left your apartment. Talks about how he wasn't enough for you, how he couldn't be present for you, how he couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved.

But you wanted his love, not the one he suddenly deemed you worthy of.

Maybe that's why you still picked up, even though it's reeling you back to seven weeks ago when he had just left you. Han's no longer here and yet, he's not letting you move on. He's the perfume that lingers in the elevator long after the person is gone; he's the feeling of floating on the waves that sticks with you long after you come home from the beach.

He's an expert at kneading nostalgia into your soul, at holding you hostage by the ropes of your shared memories. You are a puppet in his hands, dangling over the edge of oblivion, only to be pulled back each time you attempt to forget.

And he's calling again, at 2 am, like he always does. You don't have to glance at your phone to know it's Han- you never changed the special ringtone you set for him. And you pick up, like you always do.

I can't lie it feels nice that you're calling

"Hey, were you sleeping?" he asks after a few silent beats.

"No, I wasn't."

He clears his throat, and you imagine him lying on his bed, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. If you close your eyes long enough, you can still smell his cologne and the fabric softener he uses. Or maybe he changed it. You aren't around anymore to know.

"I miss you." His voice sounds broken, coming out in a strangled whisper. As horrible as it sounds, you enjoyed knowing that he felt as miserable as you- that his soul still ached for you as you ached for him.

You sound sad and alone, and you are stalling

He coughs again, trying to fill the silence from your end, but you don't budge. You never know what to expect from these calls. Sometimes he'd talk about his day, as if nothing happened, as if he was still your boyfriend and he was calling you on the way home.

Sometimes you'd both stay silent, your breaths the only thing echoing through the phone call. You'd put it on speaker and pretend he was there, lying next to you. That you'd wake up in the morning and find him smiling at your sleeping figure, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

And sometimes, he'd tell you how much he loves you. Those phone calls hurt the most, because if he loved you, he would have stayed, right?

I don't care about what you want, as long as you keep talking

"Yn, I... I really miss you."

"Han..." you trail out, as hot tears well in your eyes. It was hard not to crumble when he spoke this way, his words tugging harshly at your heartstrings. It brings you back to all the times he was away, bound by work obligations. How he always told you he missed you, and within it, a silent promise that he'd come back. That he'd unravel the need within you, filling every dent and crack in your heart since he left. Unlike now, gone for good.

"It's the truth, I wait all week for this one call. It's the only thing keeping me going."

Talking to Han makes you experience different emotions, all at once. Relief- when you hear his voice for the first time in a week, and you realize you still haven't forgotten how your name sounds rolling off his tongue. Sadness- when you remember that this is now the remains of your relationship. The pain wraps around you slowly- like vines intertwining themselves with old buildings, deserted just like your heart.

And then anger- when he says things like this; as if he isn't the instigator of this pain, as if some force greater than the two of you forced you apart. It maddens you, how he stabs you and then he weeps over your bloody body.

"Then why did you break up with me, Han? If it's hurting you this much then why are we even apart?" you ask, anger barely contained.

"I told you, I'm never here. You don't deserve a boyfriend like this," his tone is exasperated, as if this is a simple truth and you are supposed to swallow it down your throat, along with the rest of your feelings.

"Then stop fucking calling me Han. You aren't here but you won't let me move on!"

"Because I don't want you to move on!" he yells, and you startle at the raw pain laced in his voice. "I'm scared if I don't call you anymore, you'll forget me," his voice cracks. "And... And we'll meet ten years from now in the aisle of a random supermarket, and you'd be in love with someone else while I'm still buying the shampoo you recommended to me."

"I'm tired Han," you choke out, phone now shaking in your hand.

You'd think I'd be a fast learner, but guess I won't ever mind- crisping up on your backburner.

"Me too, baby."

"Don't call me that," you beg, "please, don't call me that."

It's pathetic but at least you are too

"I want to see you," he says, tone pleading. And you can envision him perfectly, wounded eyes looking into yours, his lower lip quivering at the thought of you saying no.

"It's not love when you treat someone this way," you tell him, wiping your tears away. "To put someone in the corner and only think of them when you are fucking lonely."

"I think of you all the time," he cuts you off, "you never leave my mind, even when I'm away. Especially when I'm away."

After everything you put me through, I somehow still believe in you

"This is wrong," you whisper, as your resolve weakens, as your longing for him threatens to consume you whole. You no longer care that his hands are choking you as long as he soothes down the burn after.

"I know it is, but I love you. Say it back, please. I need to hear it."

I'll always be in your corner

"Please," he repeats, and he sounds so vulnerable, in his way of begging you. As if your words are the oxygen with which he breathes.

"I love you."

Cause I don't feel alive until I'm burning on your backburner

You are already at the door when you hear someone knocking on it. You don't have to look through the peephole to see who it is.

You open the door, and Han's there, phone still brought up to his ear.

"Let me in?"

He doesn't need to ask, you always will.

#stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #han x reader #han x you #skz angst #stray kids angst #han angst #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz fanfic #skz fic #skz rec #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #han jisung x reader #skz song series

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paixarina · 2 years ago

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CASE 143

✧. ┊BAE x GN!Reader

✧. ┊SUMMARY: When BAE falls in love with you.

✧. ┊CONTENT: Fluff.

“Why do I keep getting attracted, I'm drawn to you like a magnet.”

≡;- ꒰ ALLEN SUGASANO ꒱

✦.* — When Allen falls in love, he would feel awkward about it. He himself is already a socially awkward person in the first place and his love are mostly dedicated to hip-hop only. So, when he feels attracted to you, he would unable to speak to show his feeling. He would also feel love-struck too, overwhelmed by his own feeling.

✦.* — Therefore, Allen decided to write an entire letter full of his feeling about how much he loves you, except he worded it with lots of exclamations and some typos that you cannot comprehend it, much of your second hand embarrassment.

✦.* — You decide to meet him face-to-face in the hip-hop record store, the place where Allen usually hangs around there with Kanata. But this time, Allen was alone there, not because Kanata didn't want to go with him, but because Allen purposely went earlier to there, so he can confess to you to become his soulmate. When he tried to confess you, he would do it awkwardly with a blush on his face, much of your confusion.

✦.* — Even his confession is hilariously embarrassing, just like his own letter that he wrote and sent to you, you still accept him wholeheartedly and believe that he could be a great boyfriend to you who will shower you with love and affection.

“You're my one and only hip-hop soulmate of my life. I hope we can talk more about hip-hop. Would you like it?”

≡;- ꒰ YEON HAJUN ꒱

✦.* — It's quite hard to tell how Hajun looks like when he's in love. However, a little blush on his face could tell that he has a feeling to you. Still, he feels indifferent to his feeling since he likes to hide under his mysterious persona, which makes you curious to know about him.

✦.* — When you stare at him, he will stare at you back and smiles at you gently. Still, you're not sure if the smile on his face is a gentle smile or it's just to mask his own feeling. “Hajun, it's fine if you want to talk to me, feel free to talk with me. I would listen to what do you want to say.” Unfortunately, he completely ignores your suggestion as you said that, much of your frustration. You sighed in disappointment and assume that he doesn't like being open to his own feeling to you that much and feared that he actually didn't love you back.

✦.* — Turns out, Hajun tend to suppress his feeling, hence why he doesn't want to make it obvious that he's in love with you. When you asked him hesitantly about his feeling and thought that he wouldn't love you because he keeps ignoring you, he just chuckled. “No, I actually fall in love with you, but I feel indifferent to it, since I didn't receive one from when I was a little.” You feel relieved after hearing that and asked him. “So, you probably just can not express your emotion openly?” He nodded slowly.

✦.* — “That doesn't mean you didn't love me right?” You asked him again nervously. He chuckled, “Of course not, why would I do that to you?” He said that as he slowly approaches you and holds your chin gently while rubbing your lips softly with a smile on his face. Then, he stares at you and slightly goes to whispers to your ears, confessing his feeling, which make your heart can't stop beating nervously. After he did that, you nodded nervously while he shows his signature smile as usual. You feel stunned and unable to speak one word but instead, thinks about what he confess to your ears.

“I know you're just an ordinary person, but you seem special to me and my heart. So, would you like to receive my feeling, love?”

≡;- ꒰ ANNE FAULKNER ꒱

✦.* — Anne will be honest with their feelings when they feel drawn to someone like you. However, they choose to keep their feeling in their heart because they feel not ready to express it. Anne thinks love takes time to receive it and they cannot reveal it way too soon. They want to reveal their feelings if they have a right time to do it.

✦.* — Anne would try to know you more first, such like talking, sharing stuffs, doing something together like shopping while trying to flirt with you a little bit. They will also try bonding with you together, such like doing mix and match clothing and understanding each other's interests.

✦.* — As time passed by, Anne finally tried to confesses you. When they approached you, they will placed their palm against the wall while staring at you dearly. Basically, Anne would give you a kabedon but in a gentle way. “I have something to confess to you.” They asked. You feel stunned, wondering what would Anne want to said to you. You nervously gulped, as they keep staring at you for a long time.

✦.* — “Would you be my love~?” You feel intrigued, while Anne looks at you with a warm smile. You nodded slowly, as they gently grabbed your shoulders and softly kissed you on your cheeks. After that, you caressed one of your own cheeks, with their own lipstick mark on it. You gazed at Anne, who smiled at you and gently wipes away the lipstick mark with their thumb. Then, Anne whispers another question to you.

“So, are we officially become a couple now, sweetheart~?”

#paradox live #paralive #pararai #paradox live headcanons #paralive headcanons #paradox live x reader #paralive x reader #bae paradox live #allen sugasano #sugasano allen #yeon hajun #hajun yeon #anne faulkner #sorry for not posting much here. i have writing block. HUGE writing block lol #thank you skz for freeing me from writing block with one of your song teehee <3 #this looks embarrassing to me ngl...#forgot to mention i have a new template for my fic now :3 #🌸 ;; vanie writes

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asherthehimbo · 3 months ago

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Bloody sunrise: Solar Eclipse

previous | masterlist | next

Eclipse: obscuring of the light from one celestial body by the passage of another between it and the observer or between it and its source of illumination.

Word count: 8.5K

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, harassment [ a flirty dude who doesn't know when to quit], anxiety [ general and social],mentions of a previous discomfort around men, death threats [kind of in a joking way- but not really], secret keeping, possessive themes, touching without consent, mentions of snakes.

Chapter summary: The moon found her sun once again in a small bar, two months later at the very same bar they decide to take their friendship to the next level- a sleepover. The moon does not want to share her sun, but the bloody have been waiting far too long. Vampires aren't known for their patience after all.

Hayoon was angry- no that's not the right word, annoyed? Tired? She’s not sure what to call it, but she was sure that she was about to deck the douchebag in front of her. This man- she doesn't even remember his name, came up to her about 30 minutes ago- right when her first drink of the night had reached the bottom of the glass.

He wanted to refill her drink for her, and who was she to refuse? A free drink was a free drink, besides, Miroh bar had a strict no tolerance policy when it came to unwanted flirting, so she wasn’t that worried. Minho, the bartender and a dear friend of hers, had sent her a questioning look before complying to the man's wishes. Now she stares at Minho’s back, he’s at the other side of the busy bar. Too far to hear her telepathic cries for help.

She’s long since forgone her signature smile, hoping one of the regulars would realize her discomfort. Unfortunately for her, her position at the back of the bar, and the man in front of her, did not allow others a clear view of her.

That was the original reason she chose this seat, at the end of the bar counter, in the back against the wall that separated the bar and the bathrooms. She had the perfect view of others from this position, but others did not have the same view of her. It was her perfect little hidey-hole.

The regulars (she was one herself) knew she was there, they would usually greet her with a warm smile then go about the rest of their night. She’s guessing the man in front of her wasn’t a regular - they never bothered her, far too scared of her usual drinking companion to even try.

How this man hasn't taken the hint yet, she doesn't know. She prides herself on being a kind person, but her answers thus far have been blunt, body language closed off, and legs crossed perfectly to give her the perfect angle through which she could kick his groin if he did try anything other than his poor- borderline harassing- attempt of flirting.

Her drink was almost completely empty now, she hoped Minho’s internal bartender senses would go off so that he could provide her with another drink and a bouncer to get rid of this guy. Speaking of bouncers, was Changbin working tonight? She hasn't seen him in a while, he seemed to be busy with classes, maybe she should send him some treats.

Her thoughts of her junior were interrupted by the douchebag in front of her suddenly leaning closer. Eugh his breath reeked of alcohol and garlic- where did he even eat garlic? “So…. your drinks almost empty” way to point out the obvious. Hayoon made a sound of agreement to his statement, not having the energy to sarcastically respond to him. “What do you say we get out of here, hmm? I bet I can make you a better tasting drink than this mediocre bartender.” he continued with a smirk on his face. Hayoon wanted to slap that smirk off.

“I’m sorry If I gave you the wrong impression sir, but as much as I enjoyed our conversation, I am not looking for a hookup tonight.” lies, Hayoon was not enjoying this conversation, she was zoned out for most of it but telling this man that would probably only end up in drama she wasn't in the mood for.

“Sir? You really know how to rile me up don't you, doll?” Of course that was the only part of her sentence he heard, cause why would he actually listen to what she’s saying. “I am sorry, but you are making me uncomfortable, I told you I am uninterested.” Hayoon's foot was inches away from kicking this man in the groin. She wouldn't get in trouble, the regulars and workers here loved her. “Come on doll, you’re sitting here all alone, why don’t you allow a nice gentleman like me to keep you company?” What was his obsession with calling her doll? Only Bada could call her that.

“I’m not here alone, although I appreciate you wanting to keep me company I am quite satisfied with the company I already have.” Lies, Hayoon came here alone after a long day at work. Finals were just as stressful on librarians as it was on students. Douchebag in front of her lifted his eyebrow with a scoff, “I’ve been standing here talking to you for 30 minutes and I see no one else here, you really think I’d believe that?” shit, okay he had a point.

“I-” Hayoon was cut off by a voice from behind her, “I believe my girlfriend said she was uninterested”, Hayoon looked to the side to see a woman, black hair and sharp eyes, a mole on her right cheekbone. She stood with her arms crossed, a questioning (intimidating) look on her face as she eyed the man up and down. “Listen here shorty, I don’t know what type of woman solidarity you’re trying to pull here, but I've been talking to Doll over here for half an hour, I know u aint her girlfriend, so why don’t you shoo along and let this nice gentleman woo his girl in peace.” The man is way too relaxed as he looks back at Hayoon, scoffing as if asking ‘can you believe her?’

The woman steps closer to Hayoon and gives her a questioning look, with a nod of confirmation from the blond the unnamed woman sneaks her arm around Hayoons waist and rests her head on her shoulder. “ Sorry to break it to you but I was running late, traffic is a bitch, I had faith that my girlfriend could take care of herself. Isn't that right babe?” The woman looks at Hayoon, and Hayoon nods her head back in response.

“This ain't gonna cut it, your poor attempt at acting ain't making me believe shit”, the man is starting to get angry now. The black haired woman leans in, her lips mere inches from Hayoons ear, she whispers “Hey, I know you don’t know me, but this dude’s clearly not gonna leave without some proof. Is it alright if I kiss you to make him believe you're taken? If you’re fine with it then giggle when I pull away, If you want me to come up with another option then take the last sip of your drink” She pulls away with a smirk as the man looks angrily at her. Hayoon giggles and the woman smiles.

“What were you saying to her just now?” the man questions, “I was just saying my ‘poor attempt at acting’ seems to work much better than your poor attempt at flirting, my girl seems to agree.” the woman leans in and peck Hayoon's lips, “Isn’t that right babe?” Hayoon responds back with a hum of agreement, the man opens his mouth as if he’s about to start shouting before a hand taps his shoulder from behind. “What’s got you bothering these nice young ladies?” Hayoon recognizes the voice, it’s a man in his late 30’s, he’s become a regular here recently when his wife died, he usually sticks to himself.

Flirting douchebag seems to tense when he sees the man behind him, whose much taller than he is, he looks between Hayoon, the unknown woman and the man, before the man speaks up “ I think you’ve had enough, why don’t we go have a chat with the bouncer out front” the man drags the douchebag away while sending Hayoon a smile.

When both men disappeared into the crowd Hayoon let out a sigh of relief as she feels the arm around her waist disappear, the shorter woman moves to sit at the bar next to Hayoon before introducing herself “ I’m Soyeon, sorry for being all touchy, I just didn’t think he would respond to anything else” She pulls out a cigarette from her pocket, offering one to Hayoon who politely refuses, Soyeon asks if Hayoon is alright with her smoking and Hayoon confirms that she is. “ Hi! It’s alright really, I would rather have a kiss from a pretty lady than keep entertaining that douchebag, I’m Hayoon. Can I buy you a drink as a thank you?” Soyeon smiled back before nodding her head in agreement.

“You think I'm pretty? I'm flattered you’re basically a princess” Soyeon breathes out as a puff of smoke leaves her lips. “Princess? You really know how to make a girl's heart flutter” Hayoon smiles a light blush coating her cheeks before Minho walks up to the two. “Refill?” he asks Hayoon as he’s eyeing Soyeon wearily “Yes please Min, and something for her as well, what do you want Soyeon?” Hayoon turns her head to look at her new friend, “Red moon over Manhattan cocktail please” Soyeon nods politely at Minho. “Comin right up” Minho says as he starts moving around, “Bada- noona isn’t gonna be very happy when she finds out she’s been replaced~” Minho sing songs softly before we walks away to get some ingredients from the other side of the bar.

“You got a girlfriend?” Soyeon stops her cigarette before it reaches her lips as she turns to Hayoon in surprise. “Hm? No no Bada is my best friend, she’s usually here with me but she had to work late tonight. Min’s just being silly” Hayoons giggles lightly. “Hm, good to know….. so Min? You and the bartender close?” Soyeon has now turned her body to Hayoon fully. “Oh yeah, we live in the same building, he’s a good kid” Hayoon nods as she speaks.

Soyeon takes a drag of her cigarette as she processes Hayoons words. “hm you seem nice…. caring for the kid I mean” the shorter says after a beat of silence. “oh- thank you but it's nothing really- just he goes to the university I work at and we live in the same building so we've grown close” Hayoon says as she nods her head, biting on the straw of her empty drink. “You're a professor?” Soyeon mumbles as her cigarette dangles between her lips while she adjusts herself so she's facing Hayoon. “hm? oh no no- I'm a librarian! I do tutor the kids sometimes if I know the material they're struggling with but I'm no professor” Hayoon quickly denies.

“Don't let her lie to you- she's basically the only reason I'm passing English- she'd be a better professor than half the teachers at the school” Minho chips in as he places the twos new drinks in front of the women, taking their old glasses. Soyeon nods in acknowledgement, “yeah I can see that, she seems like the caring type” she looks at Hayoon with a smile, “but I like the caring types, so let's say you and I get to know each other hm? my roommates always tell me I need friends”

Hayoon nods quickly, overjoyed at the prospect “oh! I'd love to be your friend!” she clasps Soyeon's unoccupied hand between her own, “oh- your hands are cold, do you want my jacket?” big blue eyes stare at Soyeon, and her resolve almost breaks. “No I'm - I'm good thanks I just naturally run really cold” she responds and she tries to keep her composure, “hey uhm I just need to step out for a moment, if we're going to get to know one another I just need to let my roommates know I'll be home a bit late” Soyeon gives a strained smile before she stands up and walks out of the bar with her phone. Hayoons shoulders slump slightly as she turns to Minho “do you think she ditched me?” the younger male laughs, “don't be so worried Noona, she'll be back- who could resist your adorableness?” Hayoon huffs, “HEY! I told you to stop calling me that- I'm older than you you can't call me adorable“ the two start to bicker, unaware of the conversation taking place outside of the bar.

“Hey remember that lead we had in Busan, did it work out?” Soyeon asks into the phone as she leans against the wall of the alleyway behind the bar, biting her nail nervously. “no, it was just another dead end Jake set up- why?” a male voice responds, annoyance evident as Soyeon hears rustling of papers on the other side of the phone. “Because I think I found her” she states and the other end of the line goes silent before she hears a crash, multiple voices screaming over each other. “What do you mean you found her?” she hears a raspy voice as the phone is snatched from its owner on the other end “I mean I just sat down and fucking talked to her Mingi- and I'm about to go back into this club and talk to her again” Soyeon's voice is laced with frustration, she knows it's not their fault but the whole situation is putting her on edge. “What- how are you sure it's her?” a softer voice asks “you think I wouldn't recognize my lady?” Soyeon asks bitterly. “I'm not doubting your recognition skills it's just- we can't have our hopes destroyed again- Yunho can't have hi-” the voice is interrupted “I'm fucking sure it's her Seonghwa, she doesn't remember anything but it's definitely her. I'm going back in to talk with her- ill get a picture and try to send it to you” Soyeon sighs.

“What bar are you at? I'll come over right now, ah- share your location” Yeosang spits out speedily, and Soyeon could barely catch his words. “No, you're not coming over here” Soyeon replies instantly, “What? why not? You can't just keep my Queen from me-” Yeosang is cut off by Soyeon “cause I know you Yeosang, you'll overwhelm her, currently she knows NOTHING and I don't trust you to be able to control yourself” there's silence on the other end of the line, signifying Yeosang knows she's right as he can't defend himself.

“Give the phone back to Hongjoong” Soyeon sighs as she takes another cigarette out from her pocket, placing it in her mouth and fishing for her lighter in her pocket. “Are you sure you've found her? “ Hongjoong's voice is calm, “Much more sure than I've been with our other hunches” Soyeon huffs out a puff of smoke after finally having lit her cigarette, ‘she tastes the same’ the voice in her head urges her to speak, but she doesn't. “I'll talk to her some more, get to know her okay? if nothing seems wrong I'll bring her back home” Soyeon says, flicking her cigarette “just.. I have a feeling about her… just do me a favor and prepare Yunho? I don't - I know he's not gonna take it well and I don't want him taking it out on her- not like the last few times. Those-those were justified but this I…. I just have a feeling” she breathes out, and she takes the silence on the other line to mean they agree.

“I'll go talk to him” she hears Mingi speak up softly after a moment. That's good, Mingi might not be the best with words but he knows Yunho, knows how to reach him. “I'm going back in alright? I'll talk to you all when I get back to the house” house, not home, without her Queen she could never call a place home.

She hangs up before the others can respond as she drops her cigarette to the ground, stepping onto the half spoken cigarette as she puts it out. Looking down at the pathetic thing her heart breaks, but she doesn't want to make a bad impression on Hayoon- if this is truly her Hayoon, so the blond doesn't need to know about how bad her smoking habits are. She takes a deep breath, not that she needs it anymore, yaknow, breathing- but she's found the little mundane things keep her sane.

After the crisp night air hits the back of her throat she feels steady enough to walk back into the bar, spotting her new blond companion who's boredly tapping on the counter as she scans the dance floor, a pout on her adorable face. It makes Soyeon’s knees weak but she needs to steel herself. The blond spots her amidst the crowd, she doesn't know how, she's much shorter than everyone else, dark clothes blending in, but Hayoon as always had a habit of finding those she loved.

She smiles, waving at Soyeon, clearly happy that the shorter was returning, and surprisingly Soyeon finds it in herself to smile back, to genuinely smile back.

“I just don't know Yeon - I'm just nervous I guess? I mean I know you've talked about them a lot but I've never actually met them and I- I mean who would even take care of Helios and oh! What about Seungmin? I need to wake him up for work tomorrow and-” Hayoon rambles nervously as she walks down the corridor of her apartment, Soyeon following behind her.

The two women had spent their Friday evening in Miroh bar, as they did most Friday's these last three months, quickly growing closer Hayoon had found her new friend quickly becoming a part of her world. They were usually joined by Hayoons best friend Bada, a fact Soyeon did not like, but understood. Yet the one Friday Bada had been busy Soyeon decided to take full advantage of it.

Her and Hayoon played a silly game with a silly bet and well, Soyeon won, so now they were on their way to Hayoons apartment to collect a few things for a sleepover at Soyeon’s house, her house with eight roommates. Eight male roommates, not really a comforting thought for Hayoon.

“I've told you they're harmless, and they'll probably stay in their rooms all night too” Soyeon huffs, knowing she's lying to both herself and Hayoon, “Seungmin can feed Helios, I know he's done it many times, but you'll probably be back home tomorrow morning” she tries to comfort again as Hayoon puts her keys in her apartment door, “And Seungmin's a big boy, I'm sure he can wake himself up” she finishes as they both step in the door, and speak of the devil, Seungmin sits on the floor of the living room, a bowl of cereal in his hands and books splattered all around him.

“Yeah I'm a big boy! Wait, what are we talking about?” He looks between the two confused, “I'm trying to convince Hayoon the world won't end if we have a sleepover at my house” Soyeon sighs as she plops on the couch behind Seungmin, watching Hayoon immediately move to greet Helios-her pet snake. The not so little slithering monster immediately hisses in a soft tone and slithering against the glass wall of his enclosure as his owner goes to greet him.

“Oh a sleepover… at your house” even Seungmin looks apprehensive at the idea, “see even Minnie agrees, I just have too many responsibilities here” Hayoon says as she takes Helios out of his cage, the semi- large snake immediately wrapping himself around her waist as his head moves to rest on her shoulder. Albino skin blending in perfectly with the pastel yellow outfit she was wearing.

“oh no I think it's a great idea!” Seungmin quickly agrees and Soyeon gives a victory smirk as Hayoon looks at him in betrayal, “I mean come on Noona you barely go out if Bada- Noona isn't with you or it's not the bar” he gives Hayoon a knowing look. “Do? Is it that bad that I just want to spend time inside with my son?” she asks as she rubs the snake's head softly with her finger. Both people in the living room give her a monotone answer of yes, coupled with a deadpan stare.

Hayoon relents, she really does want to spend more time with Soyeon, and the prospect of a sleepover would be so fun… if not for the fact that her friend had eight male roommates. Hayoon knew how to protect herself, and she would never judge before meeting someone but come on, could you blame her for being hesitant. At the hopeful look of the two she relents, muttering a soft ‘fine’ as she walks further into the house to go collect her things.

Soyeon lets out a small cheer and Seungmin mirrors her actions, the younger boy letting out a small ‘whoop’ in celebration. Hayoons head, along with Helios’s whip around the corner “that doesn't mean you can stay up late, you still have work in the morning” she chides the boy before going back to her tasks and disappearing into the hallway. Seungmin instantly deflates, “You're what? Eighteen? you need to stop letting her treat you like a kid man” Soyeon huffs out a laugh at Seungmin's defeated expression, the boy just looks up at her, raising an eyebrow “You try disagreeing with her” he states, and Soyeon goes quiet. “exactly” he nods as he speaks, “plus she takes care of me keeps me healthy so I shouldn't really complain* he states before stuffing another mouthful of cereal in his face.

“True, she's always had that maternal instinct I guess” Soyeon says as she takes out her phone to keep herself occupied while Hayoon shuffles around, packing. Seungmin gives her a weird look as she realizes her mistake, “uhm from what she's told me and what I've seen so far” she quickly tries to cover up, and thank god this kid is a little stupid sometimes because he just nods as if that makes complete sense to him.

There's silence as Soyeon plays games on her phone and Seungmin continues his reading, which was probably homework he's put off until the last minute, until he speaks up, “wait does this mean I have to…. feed Helios?” he asks almost fearfully. “No, I fed him Monday so he's good until the end of next week” Hayoon says as she walks back into the living room with Helios still attached to her.

“Wait so you were lying about having to feed him” Soyeon asks and Hayoon just gives a weak smile in return “I was nervous sue me” she says as she places her bags down. “Minnie you've probably already eaten-” the boy nods, “ and I see you have cereal-” she gives him a knowing look and he tries to hide the bowl behind himself, “but there's still some leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry while studying okay?“ Hayoon reminds him as she moves back to place Helios in his enclosure. “mhm, I get it thank you now go! have fun with Soyeon-Noona, I'll be fine! I got Helios to protect me, ain't that right buddy? “ he asks the snake who only hisses at response as the male cringes and mumbles “or maybe not”

“He's right come on let's go, before you change your mind again” Soyeon picks up her bags and starts rushing Hayoon out the door, “okay okay I'm going, just remember if anything happens call me! and if you can't reach me Chan is-” Hayoons voice is cut off by the door slamming shut as Soyeon manages to get the blond out of the house.

Seungmin sighs as he looks over at Helios, “you'd sell me for a half eaten mouse wouldn't you” he narrows his eyes at the snake who only looks at him back in response, but Seungmin just knows the snake is agreeing with him. The petty thing. “I'd sell you for a half eaten chicken nugget too so I guess we're even” he sighs and goes back to his reading, as the snake finds its spot to rest for the night in its enclosure.

“Penelope~ Penelope~ Don't you miss me?” Hayoon sings along to the music of the car, moving her closed fist which is supposed to represent a mic to Soyeon’s mouth. The driver having been forced to endure countless hours of the musical already knowing the lyrics by heart. “More than you know~” she responds half heartedly, not nearly as enthusiastic about the impromptu karaoke as the blond beside her. “then jump in the water and kiss me!“ The blond continues the song, her hand moving between herself and Soyeon, yet before Soyeon could continue the next lyric the song is paused as Hayoons phone, which is connected to the car, rings.

“Babes this better be very important you just interrupted my karaoke session” Hayoon whines as Soyeon glances at the name appearing on her cars screen, it's not the person on the other ends actual name, rather just a bunch of emoji’s, but by the first word out of Hayoons mouth the ravenette had already identified the caller. “Sorry doll, just wanted to know if you and Soyeon got to her home safe yet?” the deep female voice with its light southern drawl asks through the phone.

Bada Lee, Hayoons best friend, in this life, and a pain in Soyeon’s ass. The woman being the only reason it had taken Soyeon this long to be able to get Hayoon at her house alone, always clinging to her younger best friend. “Nope! we're almost there though, you're on speaker say Hi!” Hayoon responds, Bada mumbles a greeting and Soyeon does the same in turn. Neither of the two really like each other, Bada because she doesn't know Soyeon that well yet, and Soyeon because Bada is weirdly overprotective of Hayoon. Wooyoung told her it was just jealousy, then she broke his nose, it healed within the same minute, but it still felt good. “Alright well you'll text me when you're there yeah?” Bada asks again, and Soyeon can hear the bustling of people on the other end.

“Yes I will, don't worry, go have fun with Howl! I'll be fine on my own for a night, besides Soyeon’s with me and she says her roommates are nice” The blue eyed girl tries to shoo off her friend, encouraging her to enjoy her date night with her longtime boyfriend. “Still don't feel good about leaving you with a bunch of guys” she mumbles. “She won't be alone, I wouldn't take her into any danger don't worry, these guys are actual losers they wouldn't hurt her” Soyeon continues, she may not like Bada, but she respects and understands her, having been in her place many a millennia ago.

She’s speaking the truth technically, they are losers and wouldn't hurt Hayoon, San’s voice screams in the back of her head how she was supposed to be talking them up to Hayoon, she squishes it down. “Come on you two, I can take care of myself ya know? I'm not useless” Hayoon huffs, “I know doll, but anyone would be apprehensive sending their best friend into a house filled with eight men they don't know anything about” Bada retorts. “She'll be fine, Bada, I'll take care of her don't worry” Soyeon assures the other. “Yeah, but you text me before bed yeah? Let me know if you're okay? “ Bada completely ignores Soyeon's words as she talks to Hayoon. “I will, don't worry,” the blond hums, “now let me get back to my karaoke!“ she shoo’s as if Bada can see her. “Yeah yeah, love you bubs” Bada says and then she disconnects the call, the music starting up again softly.

“She's very protective” Soyeon doesn't take her eyes off the road as she speaks, “mhm, she's been with me since we were kids. She thinks it's her job to protect me” Hayoon responds, “but I can take care of myself yaknow? besides I know you'd never bring me to a place that would harm me” she smiles at Soyeon despite knowing the other has her eyes on the road. “Mhm” Soyeon hums in response, it's silent for another moment, “what do you think about vampires?” Soyeon suddenly asks. “Vampires? uhm they're alright I guess… a bit basic but still one of my top favorites if you're thinking of supernatural creatures. It would also probably depend, like are we talking about TVD vampires or Van Helsing vampires?” Hayoon moves so she's facing the side of Soyeon’s face.

“Just, vampires in general, like blood drinking immortal type vampires” Soyeon continues, “I mean I don't have anything against them. That's a weird question though” She muses, “hm, I'm thinking of doing a vampire inspired nail art so I just thought I'd ask” Soyeon covers, using the hobby Hayoons learned from her. Hayoons words didn't help to soothe the cloud of tension sitting heavily on Soyeon’s chest. Vampires, fictional vampires, why would she think asking about what Hayoon sees as fictional could help soothe her about the worries of the upcoming revelation of what's real?

“So come on you gotta tell me some things about them I'm getting kind of nervous” Hayoon asks as she turns to face Soyeon, “There’s nothing to tell really, They’re eight guys that live together, it’s about what you’d expect, just cause they’re rich doesn’t mean they aren't still men” Soyeon huffs out a laugh, “That’s not what I mean! Like- come on you’re close with them so they’ve gotta be nice right?” Hayoon smacks her friend's shoulder playfully, “Well yeah we’re close but I grew up with most of them, more of a forced cohabitation than anything…” Soyeon takes a breath as she speaks, a certain fondness dripping from her voice Hayoon hasn’t heard before, “But they’re good guys yaknow? Loyal to a fault, very welcoming- albeit a bit cringy” she shudders and Hayoon lets out a giggle, “Cringy?” she asks while her hand covers her mouth, Soyeon takes her eyes off the familiar road for a moment to look at the blond , “Oh like you have no idea” she smirks.

Hayoon turns her head to marvel at the houses they drive by, the neighborhood being one far above her own paygrade, “Seriously I know you said these guys were rich but geez, it’s like every house we pass gets bigger and bigger” she ducks t look through the windshield at the houses ahead, “yeah well eight guys all with their own room and bathroom, along with my room and two guest rooms, gotta be a big house” Soyeon hums, “Everyone has their own bathroom?” Hayoon questions as Soyeon takes a turn, “Yep, they’re all very high maintenance, want their own space, I swear you’d think they’re all queens or something” the car slows down at Soyeon's words, “We’re here” she sighs as they enter a driveway, multiple cars parker in the front. Hayoon climbs out excitedly, she can’t wait to spend the night with Soyeon.

She’s met with what seems to be a three story house and a lot of yelling, she looks at Soyeon worriedly at the sound emitting from the house but the shorter just shrugs it off as if it’s normal, rather moving to the boot of her car to get Hayoons bags, Hayoon follows her after a moment. “I can carry my own stuff yaknow?” she tries to grab her bag but Soyeon already has a firm grip, “come on, you're spending the night here on my invite, let me carry your bag” Soyeon just starts walking, not even giving Hayoon the chance to respond. The nerves in Hayoon’s stomach build as she walks up, shooting Soyeon a nervous look when the noise from inside comes to a halt, the shorter doesn't say anything in response.

Soyeon moves to put her keys in the door but before she can it’s swung open, a man stands in the doorway, his smile so wide that his eyes almost disappear, Hayoon’s first thought is that he has nice hair, the bottom half bleached as the top half stays a dark black. This must be Wooyoung, Soyeon’s told her he's very energetic, probably the most out of all her roommates. Internally Hayoon started cooing, thinking he must have been greeting his roommate, but it doesn't take her long to notice the fact that his eyes are focused on her. “Oh my fucking god” is all she hears Soyeon mumble as she pushes past the guy, looking back at Hayoon in a ‘come in’ motion.

Hayoon, a little shy, does as told, smiling at the man holding the door politely but not saying anything, she swears she heard a crack the moment she did, but her mind must be playing tricks on her, the paranoia of a new place getting to her. She follows Soyeon in and thankfully she doesn't hear Wooyoung whimper as her smell hits him. Walking in her eyes trail to the open floorplan of the first level of this house, six men sit on the couches, some of their eyes on her others seemingly on the TV or their phones, there's one standing at the staircase, he catches her attention first, but as her eyes meet his he seems to huff, storming up the stairs and disappearing from her sight before she hears a slam of the door, she moves her head to Soyeon worriedly.

“Don't worry about him, he's just in a mood” her friend tries to reassure with a smile, and weirdly places Hayoons bag on the ground beside her. She tries not to think of it, filling it with the other weird things that's happened in the last few seconds she's stepped into this house, she turns back around to greet the rest of the men that she hadn't before, but suddenly they aren't on the couches anymore. No now they're all standing in front of her, even the man that had been behind her by the door was before her now, she didn't even hear them move. Worst thing is that some of them are on their knees, bowing as if she's a queen amongst her subjects. She takes a step back, looking at Soyeon worriedly as her eyes dart to the door behind her. “fucking losers, all of you” Soyeon says as she looks sympathetically at Hayoon who's eyes are filled with fear, “I'm sorry, I had too” her voice softens as she speaks.

“Soyeon what's - what's happening is this some weird greeting - “ Hayoon tries to joke, choking out the words yet the tremor in her voice, the void in her stomach, the hair at the back of her neck suggest otherwise, every sense in her body is warning her to run, like a deer caught between a pack of predators she wants to run. Her eyes flick back to the men for a second before frantically looking over the room, looking for an escape not blocked by Soyeon, the resounding click in the silent room makes her eyes dart back to Soyeon who just looks at her apologetically. It's as if that one sound sealed her fate for the next moment she feels arms wrap around her, gripping her-tight she tries to scramble out of them but the hold on her just becomes tighter, squeezing her as she feels a face rest in the crook of her neck, the body warm, warmer than her own and unbearably so.

Her breathing picks up as she tries to get out, for some reason no noise could come from her throat, none except the trembling breath from her lips, her lungs working on overdrive. Behind her the long haired man sensed her panic, squeezing tighter to try and reassure the lady in his arms, not understanding the effect his strength has on her mortal lungs. Her breathing stops as the organs of her respiratory system get mushed together. The man gets picked up by the neckline of his shirt, like a puppy by the scruff of its fur, “Ya! Yeosangie you’re crushing her” a broad shouldered man with a mint streak in his hair speaks as he holds Yeosang who whimpers at the loss of Hayoons body against his own. She grips her stomach as she leans forward, one hand flying to her neck out of instinct as she breathes in greedily trying to regain the air that was squeezed out moments before, the perpetrator had not squeezed near her neck but it felt like second nature to reach for it after the loss of oxygen.

Her vision is blurry as her eyes are lined with tears, fear coursing through her faster than her blood, she sees a fuzzy outline of purple before her as a hand rests on her cheek, it's gentle, familiar almost. Her mind tells her to relax, that she's safe in the purple hold, but as her vision comes to and she sees the purple is only streaks in the hair of a man kneeling before her, a man who was just standing with the others, she knows her subconscious has betrayed her.

“Are you okay Sole- Hayoon?” he stops himself, correcting his sentence as her name rolls off his tongue. It feels weird to him, unfamiliar despite the fact that he's called out to her in his dreams countless times, despite the fact that her name is engraved in his heart, it's a foreign concept to address her by it, but he knows he should, he can't scare her away, not like Yeosang had just done and not like the others are bound to do, he needs to have some decorum, a hold of restraint on himself.

She can't, she can't do this, her mind and heart are telling her two different things, the confusion and fear are too much she can't breathe, there isn't a physical hold on her anymore and yet she still can't breathe. “Jongho, let me” a velvety voice reaches her ears and were it any other situation the soft voice would be comforting. A hand, warm and calloused reached up and cupped her cheek, lifting her head slightly and supporting her in standing up, she’s met with a man who seems almost regal, pink hair, long and framing his face with a silver lighting. “My Flower, welcome home” he has an encouraging smile on his face, tilting his head as he looks down at her slightly shorter frame and wipes a tear with his thumb.

Hayoon retracts, disgust churning in her gut at the unfamiliar adressment, she wipes her cheek violently, the warm comfort of the stranger's hand feeling like a burn in her hyper panicked state. Seonghwa doesn't push further, his fist clenching as his hand hangs in the air, he purses his lips, as if trying not to take her own action to heart and yet the slight shake of his hand defies his emotion. He kneels instantly, “I'm sorry, My Flower, I was not considerate of your current condition and lack of consent.”

Hayoon cannot fully register his words, the words ‘My flower’ still ring in her ears, “I'm not- I'm not a - I'm not Your Flow-” *her words stop as her mind registers the fact that she's wasting time- she needs to run. She turns, sharp, looking at the door Soyeon's standing next to, it's a chance she'll have to take. She bolts, the short distance feeling agonizing long, she doesn't realize that no one is chasing her. She grabs the doorknob and tries to open it, but it won't budge she's slamming against the door and her silent tears have turned to sobs now, she doesn't care she just needs out.

“Soyeon please” She looks to the woman who she thought was her friend, eyes pleading and voice weak as she pushes and pulls at the door, anything to try and get the slab of wood to move. “I'm sorry, My lady” Soyeon's voice doesn't feel as familiar as it did the moment before she stepped into this house, it's as if stepping into these walls ruined what she knew. “My Queen, I apologize but we cannot let you leave” a new voice speaks and she feels a chest on her back, two hands snake around her and hold her own, she's shaking, but she has enough survival instincts to realize what the man wants, her hands let go of the doorknob and he turns her around, both her shaking hands in his as he brings it to his lips placing a kiss to her trembling fingers.

“My Queen, please do not fear us” Hongjoong looks at her, mumbling the words against her palm as if he could convince her by talking into her skin. Hayoon takes a shaky breath and rips her hands from his, her eyes looking around frantically, scanning for any way she could escape, her eyes zero in on the staircase, the one the red haired man had disappeared too and she books it. Kicking off both her heels she hears footsteps following her, hears some fall over one another as someone tripped on her shoes, but she doesn't look back.

She runs practically jumping up the stairs, two or three stairs at a time she missed a step, but she ignores the crack she can hear, ignores the fact that the men seem to scream, as if they could hear it too, she keeps running, looking down a hallway with many doors she sees one having a different color than the rest. Her frantic logic makes her believe this room with the dark pink, almost red paint must be where they torture their victims, and if they're eventually going to tie her up in there she'll go in first, if it's their torture room there must be a weapon in there.

She hears them coming up the stairs, footsteps faster than before and she runs behind the door, closing it, turning it to lock, never in her life has she been thankful for old timey door knobs. They may have a key for the door, but having to go fetch it might buy her time. Her breaths are heavy as she finally has a moment of peace, ignoring the banging on the door and the soft plea’s for her to open the door. She looks around the room, it's mostly dark, there's nothing in the room except for a lone dresser, a bed, and a cloth covering a big patch of the wall.

She moves to the dresser, ignoring the sting of her ankle as she pushes it towards the door. “My Flower, what are you doing? please open the door” Seonghwa pleads, she huffs and ignores him, pushing again as her shoulder is against the side of the dresser. “Baby you're hurt please open the door” the voice she recognizes as Wooyoung from the front door whines. “Darling, please stop moving the dresser, you're only furthering your injury” a voice unfamiliar to her follows, but she doesn't listen. she doesn't know how they could have known she hurt herself, and frankly she doesn't care.

“Dearest please open the door, I don't want to break it down to scare you” a gruff voice speaks a bit louder than the rest, his bang on the door more forceful, she can hear the others whisper yelling at him, as if to reprimand him but she doesn't care. Once the dresser is officially in front of the door Hayoon leans on it, supporting her weight on her arms and upper body as she relieves the pressure from her foot. ”My lady please just let me- let us explain okay?” Soyeon's voice says softly after a moment of silence.

“Stop- Stop calling me that” Hayoon rasps, trying to steady her breathing, “I can't, My lady please-” Soyeon tries to reason, “You can, you can call me by my fucking name like you have been this whole entire fake fucking friendship before you brought me here to die” the response to Hayoons words are instant, “We wouldn't ever harm you, My flower” Seonghwa speaks through the door again.

“Just- just fucking stop with the nicknames” she bangs her hand against the door in frustration and it falls silent on the other end, she takes a breath pushing herself from the dresser as she looks around the room, at the tarp hung on the wall. A window, it must be, she’s only on the second floor, she could jump, even with an injured ankle she’s sure she could make it, maybe if she lands correctly she could only further injure the ankle that's already injured and not injure another part of herself. “Mistress please stop walking around, you’re already hurt” she hears a soft voice whine, she doesn’t know how they know she’s walking around, she’s trying to stay silent.

She doesn’t answer, she takes another breath, she needs to be calm, if she’s panicked when she jumps it’ll only hurt. She feels a buzz in her jackets pocket and - her phone- she still has her fucking phone, she fumbles for it hastily, “Don’t do it my Queen” Hongjoong warns, “put down the phone” she hates that they know her every move, as if they have camera’s in her room, watching her from the other side of the door. She doesn’t care, she unlocks her phone, dialing Bada’s number and the door bangs once again, loud enough for it to crack, she jumps and steps toward the cloth covered wall. “Dearest hang up that line this instinct” the gruff voice commands, she hears whispers of others berating him again, but she doesn’t want to listen.

The line crackles and she hears Bada’s voice flow through the device, “Hayoon? Wha-” she doesn’t give Bada a chance to finish her sentence, “Bada help they’re-” just as she did to her friend, her sentence gets interrupted. It happens in a blur, the door bursting open, the wooden dresser against it being thrown to the wall opposite it as it crashes into a million pieces due to the sheer power with which it was seemingly bulldozed through, an action that shouldn’t be physically possible.

The phone is snatched from her hand, crushed in the hands of the man with the brunette mullet as he looks at her, the others are in the room, the man with the outgrown pink haired buzzcut is closer now than the others. “I'm sorry my Queen but you need to understand we cannot let you go when we’ve just found you again” Hongjoong smiles as the phone he’s demolished drops from his hands, her breathing picks up again, she has to do this.

She lurches forward, grabbing at the cloth, these people may be crazy but they wouldn’t jump with her right? The others scream for her to stop, she feels a hand, rough and calloused grab her from behind, wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against a broad chest, but she’s already gotten ahold of the cloth, it gets torn off. Hayoon stares, what’s in front of her is not the night sky, not a view of the garden or the moon. She stills, body almost going limp and the man holding her must feel it because his hold tightens to support her.

She stares at a reflection of herself, not one in a window’s glass, no she doesn’t really even know if she could call this a reflection. Her own eye’s stare back at her, happy as a man with red streaks in his hair stands beside her, a man eerily similar to the one that had stormed up angrily the moment she’d walked into the door of this house. He looks down at her with a smile, not only at her, but at the small babe she holds in her arms. The picture stares at her tauntingly, like a vision of a dream captured in a painting.

Just as quick as she saw it, it was covered again as Soyeon steps to her face, “You were not supposed to see that My Lady” Hayoon can hear the not yet that's being left out of her friend - former friends sentence. Hayoon’s tired. Her body hurts, her breathing has yet to return to normal, it feels as if the air around her is thin, the men surrounding her in the room now look less threatening, or maybe it’s just because Hayoon has lost the will to run. Her foot hurts, the pain beating louder than her own heart in her ears now.

She doesn’t have the energy to try and pry herself from Mingi’s hold, doesn’t have the energy to scream, to beg for her life. Tears flow from her eyes silently, not many, but her eyes are already dry and puffy from the sobbing she’s done, all she’s able to do is look Soyeon in the eye, stare at the woman she had once trusted and she lets out a strangled question, “Why”

The scene feels like a sense of Deja vu for Hayoon, being held back by a man as she stares in the eyes of a woman she’s once trusted, only this time she won’t beg for her life, won’t give them the satisfaction. But she has to ask what she couldn’t before, she needs to know what she’s done wrong in her past life to be deserving of such a scene, to deserve living through such a scene twice.

Soyeon looks at her sympathetically, as if she actually feels bad for the situation she’d put Hayoon in, Hayoon refuses to believe it. “Let’s move you first, treat your wounds and ill explain everything My Lady, but you must know we would never do anything to hurt you” she says, the voice behind Hayoon agrees with a grumble of “Never” the vibrations in his chest rumbling against her back. He picks her up with ease, she doesn’t fight, her eyes stay on Soyeon. She wants Soyeon to feel bad. The blatant lies in a friendship she thought meant much more, she wants Soyeon to feel the guilt.

They walk, arriving at a door and as she’s brought in she’s met with a room that looks just like her own back at the apartment, down to every little detail, except for her sentimental things, if not for that being missing she’d have thought they robbed her. “We thought you would feel more at home in a familiar space” the man holding her whispers, gruff voice now suddenly sounding shy and bashful as she looks at him. She’s put down on the bed as Soyeon leans before her with a med kit. “You can go now Mingi” she says without looking at the pink haired man, ‘so that's his name’ Hayoon thinks. “But-” Mingi seems desperate to refute the ravenette’s words, but as she looks up at him, motioning to a still shaking Hayoon he nods and walks out the door, closing it behind him and Hayoon catches a glimpse of the others lurking in the hall before the door is closed.

“You must have questions” Soyeon looks up at Hayoon as she takes her lady’s injured foot into her hands, carefully feeling off the former white sock. “I’ll try and help you understand as much as I can, but you must listen to me first” the look in her eyes make Hayoon want to believe her for once tonight, so she just nods.

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minkieater · 4 months ago

Text

one dream, one city, two boys, endless possibilities ✮

FOUR ➺ the show masterlist after your fight with jeongin, you're left with unresolved feelings, clear frustration, and an option that comes with opportunity you can't say no to. a conversation with your two best friends does help make you feel a bit better, though.

if anyone wants luck closure, i have a present for u!

cheating, drinking, college kids doing college kid shit wc. 8k

“i have something to tell you guys,” yunho averted eye contact, deciding to peel at the label of his beer bottle rather than look up to you and wooyoung. thursday night at prince, a week after your argument with jeongin, you needed your two best friends. before you went over to his place to talk over your argument again, you needed the two that were solely yours – not connected to any of the others, unbiased, the two people you don’t have to worry about anything with.

“do not tell me ivy’s pregnant,” wooyoung gasped, eyes wide, “wait, if she is, am i congratulating you or are we scared right now?”

“i think we’re congratulating, they’ve been together long enough,” you said to wooyoung who smiled, nodding in return.

“and yun’s a senior, that’s old enough to have a kid i think,” wooyoung used his index finger to point out his statement, his eyebrows raised.

“what do you mean? imagine having a kid next year,” your eyebrows furrowed, hands moving as the words left your lips, wanting to take back your statement as soon as the words left wooyoung’s mouth.

“not me, that’s all you. you’re the one who said they’ve been together long enough,” wooyoung pointed out, easily falling into a bickering match.

yunho let go of his beer bottle, running his hands over his face before he interrupted. “ivy and i aren’t together anymore.”

“what?” you and wooyoung nearly shouted at the same time, both of your attention moving back to yunho, leaning forward across the wooden table in shock.

“what the hell do you mean ‘not together anymore’?”

“you guys have been together longer than me and jeongin, yun. no fucking way!”

yunho sighs, dropping his hands from his face. you take a moment to look at him, really study him. he had a slight red hue to his usual clear, chocolate eyes, bags hanging dark underneath them. at first you thought it was exhaustion, figuring he probably stayed up too late reading, but this is not the kind of physical reaction from a night of reading meet me in the bathroom: rebirth and rock and roll in new york city. these were features of pain, nights spent stressed, whatever happened was clearly taking a toll on him.

“yun, what happened?” you changed the tone of your voice, evading your shock, deciding he needs to be soothed more than anything. your heart ripped from your chest.

“if i tell you guys the truth, i need to know you’re not going to judge me and you’re still going to be my friends. i’ve been so torn up about telling you but i have to now,” his eyes looked glassy, his voice sounding strained. you and wooyoung both nodded profusely, still leaned over the table, both focused only on yunho.

he closed his eyes before he spoke, keeping his voice hushed, speaking way too fast, “i cheated on her. i’ve been cheating on her for a long time.”

your heart lurched, a pit in your stomach. you immediately thought of the night at the club, yunho standing inches away from the bartender. you couldn’t believe it. yunho and ivy were made for each other, she was perfect for him, the sweetest little thing you’d ever met. every time you spoke to her she was nice, you never saw her without a smile on her face, she treated yunho like he was the only person that mattered – how could he do something like that? you sat straight up, a frown on your face, bile rising up in your throat as the realization hit you that you weren’t any better.

“that night we went to the club, there was a bottle girl, i– um,” he ran a hand through his hair, “i’d slept with her awhile before that night, but i saw her again– i needed to see her again. i’m seeing her now,” he rambled, speaking far too quickly for either you or wooyoung to get a word in. “i broke things off with ivy a week ago.”

“yunho,” wooyoung said in a low tone, his eyes locked in on a disappointed stare pointed at his best friend, looking over yunho’s face searching for dishonesty, begging there to be some sick joke behind his confession. there wasn’t any.

“okay,” you decided, letting a breath out through your lips, “it’s okay.”

“it’s okay?!” wooyoung’s eyes were wide as he stared between you and yunho, disbelief coating his features, “nothing about this is okay.”

“we agreed not to judge,” you didn’t look at wooyoung, only nodding in yunho’s direction, “i’m your friend, even if i don’t support your choices i’m not going to grill you about them. it’s your life.”

“what the fuck,” wooyoung says through a sigh, tipping his head back, looking up to the ceiling for a moment before he spoke again, “i’m your friend, yes, but i can’t sit here and pretend like that isn’t wrong. i love ivy, you guys were really good together, i can’t wrap my head around why you’d do something like that, yun.”

yunho shrugs, “i’ve been doing it for a long time, i don’t know. kinda thrilling as fucked up as it sounds, as it is, i guess, i don’t know.”

a laugh slipped out of your mouth, one you quickly covered up with your hand, eyes going wide. “it’s not funny, i’m sorry.”

“you should not be laughing, ki, what if you were ivy? and jeongin did that to you?” wooyoung slaps your arm, a light smack but it’s purpose was clear.

your lips pursed, that’s something you did not want to think about. your guilt sat in your stomach again, begging you to tell them, to make yunho feel better about what he did because you did it, too.

“valid point,” was all you said with a nod, “i don’t think jeongin has it in him to do that, though.”

“i didn’t think you had it in you to do it, either, motherfucker,” wooyoung cursed, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip before he kept going, “god, yunho. what the fuck? how did she take it? is she okay?”

“i don’t really know, she moved out and is staying with her parents in staten island,” yunho says, playing with the label of his beer bottle again, “she called me a couple times crying, didn’t say much other than ‘fuck you’.”

wooyoung groaned, “and what about this bottle girl? who is she?”

yunho immediately smiled, “her name’s aera, she works at the club to put herself through med school, she goes to icahn. ridiculously smart, really funny. ki, you guys would get along really well.”

“does she know you cheated on your girlfriend of almost four years to be with her?” wooyoung immediately cuts in, not giving you time to respond. you just smiled and nodded to yunho.

“yes and no, i told her i was seeing someone so i had to break things off with ivy before i could date her,” yunho took a sip from his beer, his limbs relaxing, the tension leaving his shoulders with each confession.

“you’re dating already?!” you asked, shock now slipping out, “it’s been days!”

“to be fair it has been two months since i slept with her,” yunho pointed out, lips straightening to a thin line, eyebrows raised, an amusing look. wooyoung seemed to be taking this far more seriously than the two of you were.

“nothing about that is fair, yunho,” wooyoung countered after a sigh, “i want to meet her.”

“i don’t know if i want you to meet her,” yunho admits, “this is not how i expected this conversation to go.”

“can i meet her?” you ask, a hopeful look on your face.

“yeah, you can meet her keeks, you guys would get along.”

“hello?!” wooyoung near shouts, “ki can meet her but i can’t?”

you laugh, an approving chuckle that you hope helps yunho feel better. it almost makes you feel better, knowing that you weren’t the only person to go through this, to do this. it takes the shadow of guilt off of your shoulder, makes you feel a little more at ease, like you and yunho share more than you realize. it makes you feel closer to him without him even knowing, even if what he did is still worse than what you did; although you felt bad letting yunho take the heat from wooyoung as you sat there feigning innocence, it made the guilt come back just as quick as it left.

“ki isn’t the one patronizing me,” yunho argues, a hand jutting out from his lap to refer to you, and wooyoung laughs in disbelief.

“you should be patronized! you cheated on your girlfriend of 4 years and have apparently been doing it for a long time,” wooyoung is whisper-shouting, leaning as close as he can over the table without jumping out of his chair.

you take a breath and swallow, deciding it’s now or never to admit it to your friends, “i did it too.”

a weight is lifted off your chest, immediately you feel ten pounds lighter even when both of the boys’ necks snap to stare at you in disbelief, wooyoung’s eyes nearly jumping out of his head.

“...what?” wooyoung’s voice is barely above a whisper, smaller than you’d ever heard it.

“i kissed mingi two months ago.” you said it quickly, your own voice unsteady as if your body was fighting the confession, begging you to keep it inside even if it also yearned to get the words out.

yunho’s head tips back in laughter, clutching his stomach as wooyoung stands and takes a lap around your table. wooyoung’s hands are on his hips, then they’re on his head, clearly in a fight with himself over what the hell to do.

“i didn’t realize two of my closest friends were pieces of shit,” wooyoung says, and he meant it, even if his for the two of you outweighed what he’d just found out. “have you told jeongin?”

“fuck no,” you shake your head, eyes wide as if wooyoung was insane for even asking that question. “it was a one time thing, he was helping me in the studio and we started talking and i ended up on his lap. it’s not a big deal and it won’t happen again, just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”

“are you telling yourself that or us?” yunho asks, a smirk growing on his face.

“okay, king cheater, i don’t need to hear that from you,” you huff, crossing your arms.

“you guys are going to hell,” wooyoung whispers, sitting back in his stool. “cannot believe i’m friends with you. is there no one loyal left in the world?”

“you,” you shrug.

“jeongin,” yunho also shrugs.

“yunho!” you scold, fighting a laugh that threatened to slip out, hand slapping over your mouth again.

“this is not funny!” wooyoung throws his arms up before sighing, “you know what, i’m not even going to say anything anymore. you’re lucky i’m so fucking loyal or else i’d be exposing the fuck out of you both.”

“thank you,” you and yunho say in unison as if you’d rehearsed it, which only makes the two of you laugh again.

“god, what am i gonna do at friendsgiving?” wooyoung asks, raising a hand to his forehead, “first i have to keep quiet about riley and san, now i have to look jeongin in the eye and pretend i don’t know anything?”

“what do you mean keep quiet about riley and san?” you ask, lifting an eyebrow. wooyoung’s eyes shoot wide, a hand slapping over his mouth, shaking his head.

“no sir, what do you mean? tell me,” you fully turned to him, cocking your head to the side, “you can’t say that then choose to shut your mouth.”

“riley texted san the night of the club–”

your phone vibrated on the wooden table before you, loud against the smooth surface. you quickly picked it up, hongjoong’s name appearing on the screen. you muttered out a fuck before pressing the answer button.

“hey joong!” you said, holding the phone up to your ear and pressing your free palm over the other ear. you hopped up from your stool and made your way through the crowd of prince, slipping through the front door to step outside where it was quieter.

“hey ki, sorry for calling so late i was just reading through my emails and i realized you sent me a demo,” his voice sounded like velvet through the phone, it made you shiver.

“yeah! did you listen to it?” you asked, picking up a piece of your hair, twirling it around your finger.

“a few times, i really liked it, i was wondering if you could send over the form with it? i want their information, i’m definitely interested,” your eyebrows perked up at that, standing a little straighter.

“i can absolutely do that, i’ll do it now,” you nodded, even if he couldn’t see it.

“cool, head over to my studio when you get in tomorrow, i’ll let yunjin know i’m borrowing you for a bit,” he said and you almost squealed from excitement, nodding again, but this time without a verbal answer.

you realized you didn’t say anything after a pause, “oh, yeah i will absolutely do that, thank you!” you smiled, pride settling in, knowing you did something right even if the idea came from mingi’s mind.

“actually, wait, what are you doing?” his voice is inquisitive, as if the idea just came to him, you could see the lift of his eyebrow in your head as if he was standing before you.

“i’m at prince with two of my friends,” you looked behind you at the glass door as if you could see yunho and wooyoung who sat deep inside the building.

“me and mingi are going to a show at baby’s all right in brooklyn if you want to come, i think jag is meeting us there, maybe yunjin too. there’s a band i want to check out,” he says, and your eyes widen. finally, a show for you to check out and use your new analyzing eyes, not going to a show just for the fun of it.

“i’ll absolutely come, yes, for sure,” you nod as you spoke again, something you can’t seem to stop doing, “thanks for inviting me.”

he lets you know when to meet and you hang up, tilting your head back to stare up at the city’s night sky, letting a breath pass through your lips as you closed your eyes for a moment. you smiled at the void, letting the adrenaline run through your veins, feeling your heart rate pick up as reality sets in. you’re about to go see a show in brooklyn. you turn around and rip open the glass door to prince, passing through bodies crowded at the bar as you zipped through the space, eager to find your table. you immediately spill the details of your phone call as soon as you have eyes on your two friends, heart thumping in your throat as you spoke at a speed you’d never reached before.

“ki,” wooyoung’s eyes are wide, his lips in a tight line, “aren’t you supposed to go over jeongin’s later to talk?”

your blood runs cold, the smile immediately dropping from your face, excitement fully depleted in mere seconds. you slowly sat on your stool again, immediately burying your head in your hands, you couldn’t help that it felt like a sign. “he’s absolutely going to break up with me.”

“he might’ve already been doing that anyway,” wooyoung says from beside you and you could see his shrug without even looking at him, it made you groan.

“but on the bright side, if he does, mingi will be there tonight,” yunho steps in, wearing a warm smile on his face when you pick your head up. “i mean, even if he doesn’t, mingi’s still there.”

“don’t encourage her yunho!”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“i’m sorry. it’s for the label, they’re finally letting me go see a show,” somewhat a lie, but one that could possibly get you out of the situation you’re in, that was if he cared at all about your career in any capacity.

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you can hear him laugh through the speaker as you pull a stocking up your thigh, securing the elastic band around your skin. “you’re canceling a chance to talk this out, to talk about us. and for what – to go to a bar? a show?”

“jeongin, please try to understand. i’ve been trying to go see a show since i started, this just fell in my lap an hour ago,” you lean against the back of your desk chair with a sigh, head tipping back. your phone sat on your desk amongst the makeup products cluttering the area.

“real funny timing,” he paused, “whatever, ki. i’ll see you saturday.”

“jeongin i’m sor–”

he hung up on you, deserved, you admit. you know what your priorities should be right now, jeongin should be at the top of the list, he is at the top of the list. right after how much you needed to go see a show, to prove to everyone you’re seeing tonight that you can do this, to prove to yourself that you came all the way here for a purpose, that you’re moving forward.

you faced the mirror, quickly deciding not to call him back. you’d give yourself tonight, call him in the morning, beg him to see you after work, you’ll even leave early if you can manage it. he’ll forgive you, he has to, you have friendsgiving on saturday, after all, he wouldn’t drag out your argument and act like this in front of all your friends.

you push your worries to the back of your head and reach for your lipliner, a mahogany color, and reapply it to your lips. you listen to the music playing through your speakers, an rnb song with elements of trap beat filling the air of your room. you put your focus into that, to the beat, to the track behind the words. a moody song, tight drum programming, spacious synth work, ethereal vocal processing. the vocals guide the track without them being overbearing, it was beautiful work, another song that made you wish you produced it – that you created it. you hummed along as you unscrewed your tube of lip gloss, applying it to your lips quickly, smacking your lips together once it was perfectly applied.

the ride to baby’s all right would take about thirty minutes on the subway – you checked the time as you slipped on your heels. you needed to leave now to make it to the station on time yet instead you sped to the kitchen, quickly pouring a shot to take the edge off of your nerves.

“where are you going, dressed like the hottest woman i’ve ever seen?” riley peeks her head around the wall of the kitchen, another head above hers beside the wall that split your kitchen from the living room. your jaw dropped as you gaped at the man above her, quickly reminded that wooyoung never explained earlier.

“what the fuck?” is all you could say, bottle of vodka in your left hand and shot glass in your right, gaping at the two of them now.

riley immediately looked above her and her eyes widened, she turned around and yelled at him, “san, i told you to stay over there!”

“she was going to see me either way,” he shrugged, moving around riley and fully coming into view, a small smirk spread across his lips accompanied by a pair of dimples.

your eyebrows furrowed, still holding two things that were glass, they could not be dropped – you didn’t have time to sweep. “what are you doing here? what are you doing?”

your second question was to riley, eyes thinning as you stared her down, you could not believe the scene before you. maybe you should be more surprised, shouting in dismay, but a part of you immediately understood. agreed even, especially as san’s dimples made serious eye contact with you.

“actually, i don’t have time to listen to more adultery today. i’m going to see a show with some people from the label,” you set down the bottle and take the shot quickly, hissing at the burn as you pour another for good luck.

“adultery?” one of san’s eyebrows shot up, looking beside himself to riley who completely ignored him.

“i thought you were gonna talk to jeongin tonight?” riley asked, leaning into san now, her head resting on his bicep. she knew that you wouldn’t share what you were seeing with anyone, not even as you glanced between the two of them with disbelief before shaking your head, taking the other shot back.

“work called,” you screwed the lid back on the vodka bottle and put it back next to the refrigerator, turning to grab your phone and purse. the song that played from your room changed to a trap song, playing through the speakers of the living room, the kitchen. you nodded your head to the beat as you walked toward the door, trying to shake the blatant discomfort off with the last remaining seconds of hearing the song before you left.

“ki,” riley calls after you, disappointment clear in her voice as you face the front door. you told her about your argument, you told everyone close to you, you’re sure jeongin did the same – his version. frustration taps you on the shoulder and you crane your head to greet it, jaw locked.

“you have no room to talk about anything relationship related anymore,” you snapped over your shoulder, making sure you made eye contact with her before stepping outside of your apartment door and into the stairwell. you knew that you were taking it out on the wrong person, riley was just thinking of your best interest, jeongin’s best interest. it pissed you off, you knew you should be on your way to jeongin’s instead of the bar, that you should be talking things out with your boyfriend, you told yourself all of that already. even if guilt and disgust for yourself sat in the base of your spine, you needed to do what was right for yourself and your future.

hopefully the right decision was in the middle of brooklyn, you hoped deep in your gut that tonight would have a positive outcome, that you skipped out on your talk with jeongin for good reason. you let your mind drift to riley and san – why the hell was he in your apartment? for the last two months riley had only talked about chan chan chan, never once has she brought up san or if she even missed him. you never brought up mingi with her either, never told her the truth, even if riley did know there was something between the two of you before you did. even after seeing san with her, you knew you couldn’t risk it – she’s known jeongin longer than you, who knows who she’d side with if you told her the truth? riley has been your other half since your first day at NYU, you’d gotten so close with your friend group… how could you risk losing all of them?

your skin was hot the entire ride to brooklyn, leg bouncing underneath your short skirt, sweat threatening to drip down your spine. as you made your way to the bar thanks to your phone’s maps app, you took in your surroundings, the stress about your outfit slipping back into the front of your mind as the city’s night air cooled you down. you hoped you dressed appropriately as you walked along broadway, trying to take notice of everyone’s outfits. you remembered very shortly after your first glance at a group of people your age that there was no such thing as appropriate in the city.

everyone in new york dresses so uniquely, the fashion scene was effortlessly linked to originality. it’s been your biggest inspiration for every article of clothing you’d bought in your years of living here. you’d never been one for fashion, back in missouri the fashion scene was completely different. department stores were always stocked on the basics: denim, cotton tees, tank tops, leggings, hoodies… there wasn’t much experimenting going on in the midwest, nor were there many stores to choose from. in the city it seemed everyone experimented, from wearing loud prints to different pieces you’d never expect to go together, funky shoes and accessories you’d only see in a thrift shop back home that every one of your friends would make fun of.

you loved the individuality of the city, how everyone expressed themselves only for themselves, not a care about how they were perceived. that’s been your biggest hump to get over so far – understanding how small you really were in a city this big. you found your confidence in clothes before you built it up yourself, blossoming into what it is now.

you found a tall head of oreo hair in line, next to a white shack looking building that lived under a massive, green ALL RIGHT sign. you turned the maps off on your phone and took a breath, mentally giving yourself a prep talk as you wiggled your way through the line. they were quick to find with mingi’s height, he stood with hongjoong and jag, all who had their arms crossed, already in conversation.

“you made it!” jag smiles at you first as you finally make your way through the last few people. he stood with his hair pulled back into a bun and a cigarette between his lips, his weight on one leg with the other bent outward. baggy jeans and a dark hoodie, a pair of sunglasses on his head, he was the epitome of chill, relaxed. you would think he was going to a laid back hangout with friends before a busy bar in the middle of brooklyn.

“is yunjin here?” is the first thing you ask, looking around the three men, hoping you wouldn’t be the only woman among your group.

“boo,” hongjoong complains as he shamelessly gives you a one over, “not even a hello?”

you rolled your eyes, “hi joong, hi jag, hi mingi,” you glanced at each man in greeting before you directed your gaze back to hongjoong, “is yunjin here?”

he showed off his perfectly straight, white teeth in a smile as he said, “she’s coming, i think, i don’t really know.”

you pout, “i hope she comes, i wanna hangout with her outside of the label.”

“god, how long have we been standing here?” he scoffed, looking ahead of the line, shagged haircut hugging the sides of his neck as he turned his head. in all black, an oversized tee tucked into jeans so massively shredded you wondered if they could even be considered pants anymore, he kept his rockstar persona alive. his shagged haircut hugged his neck, so long some pieces covered the piercings along his ears, he looked delectable. he stood with his arms crossed, hands tucked into his armpits, it was clear he didn’t like to wait for anything.

the four of you move up in line as if on cue and jag turns to you as you step ahead instead of answering hongjoong, “she’s fun, real piece of work. have to watch how much she drinks, though.”

your eyebrows furrow before hongjoong laughs beside you, “remember when she came into work after going to check out that singer? the one we didn’t sign, where were we, tribeca?”

jag laughs too, a husky sound, deep but still inviting, “man, she looked like she just came off a four day bender, never seen her look like that in my life.”

hongjoong shook his head, still smiling as he said, “rookie mistake.”

you had a smile on your face as you listened, not knowing what they were talking about but knowing you were still present for the conversation. you let your mind drift for a moment, picturing yourself here again in the future, in this exact position but instead an actual employee of republic records with your producer coworkers, spending a thursday night across the city to check out a possible artist to sign. excitement shot through you, outweighing everything you felt before you came. you made the right decision.

you looked up to mingi who’s been quiet this whole time, he caught your eye quickly with a tight lipped smile. he spoke first, beating you to the punch, “you look really good, ki.”

you fought the heat that spread across your chest, not inconspicuous in the slightest when your eyes dragged over mingi’s height. he’s gorgeous, that you already knew, but when he was in all black, every article of clothing clinging to him a little too well… you had to push your thoughts to the back of your head. you were here to work.

“so do you,” you replied with a nod, letting the exchange die there. a compliment for a compliment, that’s all it was.

you moved through the rest of the line before you finally got inside, hongjoong making a beeline for the bar. you followed behind, your heels clicking against the floor, loud for the rock music that played through the speakers. the band wasn’t on yet, the music that played through was familiar, you knew this song.

hongjoong ordered a round of shots before asking what you wanted to drink, you settled on a tequila cocktail, deciding to go with something safe. you told yourself you could only have two so you weren’t completely hammered, you still had a job to do.

“how are you doing in A&R?” hongjoong asks after you all took your shots, handing you your cocktail. he looked you up and down shamelessly once again, letting his eyes linger on your legs, tattoos blanketed by your stockings.

“good! listening to a lot of demos,” you nod with a smile, then sip your drink through the straw. you remind yourself to stand straight, keep your shoulders back — even though hongjoong knows you from before the label, he’s seen you at the rooftop, at prince, he’s never seen you so put together, especially not in a setting like this. you want to impress him, to make him think of you whenever he goes to check out an artist so you could be the person from the A&R department he calls.

“how’s the husband?” he asks and you could hear the smile in his voice before you snapped your head up to look at him, eyes wide, that was the last question you’d expect him to ask.

“husband?!” jag nearly yells, immediately grabbing your left hand to inspect your fingers, looking for a ring.

“he’s not my husband,” you say quickly, snatching your hand back from jag’s grip, the action much too hasty for hongjoong not to of taken notice.

hongjoong shoots you an eyebrow, “that doesn’t sound good.”

“it’s fine! we’re fine, he’s great,” you laugh nervously, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with the hand you stole back from jag. your eyes glance to mingi who’s still quiet, his face is unreadable. humor in his eyes, yet the rest of his face is stoic.

“being in a long term relationship as a junior in college is fucking pointless, especially if you’re serious about getting into this industry,” hongjoong shakes his head, taking a sip from his beer.

“i think it’s sweet, just because you have commitment issues doesn’t mean everyone else has to,” jag smacks his chest, shaking his head.

“if you think about it logistically, it makes sense,” hongjoong starts, “as an intern you’re flooded with shit to do, and it’s not even your own shit. once you get your own shit, it becomes your baby, all you think about, all you want to do. there’s no time for anything else.”

“speak for yourself,” mingi finally speaks, “you make it that way, not everyone is like that. although, i do see a lot of you in ki, so maybe he is kinda right.”

hongjoong makes a concerned face, baring his bottom row of teeth as his eyebrows raise, “if you’re anything like me then good luck and get out of that relationship quick.”

“do whatever you want, ki, don’t listen to them,” jag puts his hand on your shoulder, shaking his head, “i’m sure you and your husband are great for each other.”

you give him a timid nod with a small smile, the words sinking deep in your gut like an anchor. what hongjoong just said was basically what you said to jeongin verbatim during your argument, he was right. if you were ever going to make this work with jeongin, you were going to need to purposely make time for him; although his point might have been the exact opposite, you knew what you had to do from today going forward. you just hoped you had the willpower to actually follow through.

as you made your way over to the crowd, hongjoong kept himself close to you, ready to explain what exactly you were there for. you came to a still on the outskirts of the crowd, the four of you in a line, hongjoong’s chin tilted upward towards the stage.

“you know what we’re listening for, right?” he asked, tilting his head towards you so you could hear him better, the smell of his cologne so clear over the smell of the sweaty crowd.

you shook your head, “i’ve never scouted anyone before.”

“i’m looking for a consistent sound – i know they’re a rock group, their sound is exciting, riveting, makes you want to join the crowd and start a mosh pit or some shit. i want you to pay attention to stage presence, make sure they hit every note, pay attention to the crowd. i want everything lively, i want the crowd obsessed, like they’ve never seen anything like this in their life,” hongjoong explains, talking with his free hand, beer in his other hand swirling in the bottle as it tries to follow the actions of the free one.

you nodded, “so i’m analyzing the band, the crowd, the performance as a whole?”

“pretty much, just keep your eyes and ears open,” he sips from his beer again, gaze set on the stage. the lights dimmed lower than what they were before, you could barely see the people in front of you but you could see their heads blocking your view of the stage, shutting you out from any visibility of the performers. you gave up, settling for your spot at the back just as the stage’s spotlights turned on, and everyone pushed up.

from the drinks you’d consumed you stumbled a bit, the feet trapped in your heels pushing you into the person in front of you. a strong arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close, your back pressed to his front. your head tilted back in shock, chin jutted up to see above you, and the culprit was no other than mingi standing behind you, beer pressed up to his lips as if he’d never touched you in the first place.

“thank you,” you mumbled, probably too low for him to hear through the crowd that was already cheering. adrenaline was still coursing through you, a heat that spread across your chest, you didn’t even know who you were here to see, you just knew to watch, listen, analyze.

when the first note was played through the electric guitar, an exciting riff that had you on your tippy toes, desperately trying to get taller to see what your ears were guiding you to. it was magical, a group stood onstage, three women and a man, a heavier rock tune playing from their instruments. you leaned back instead, neck craned up, the back of your head hitting a wall – a hard, muscular chest that felt too much like a wall – mingi hadn’t moved.

“stop touching me, i have a boyfriend,” mingi teased, lopsided teeth protruding from his lips, making a small one immediately break out on your face. it was too easy to mimic him, his smile was so contagious, everything about him is contagious.

“shut up, i wanna see,” you complained, turning so you could face him better instead of looking up at him from his chest. you pouted, bringing your straw to your lips to fight off the smile.

“i can just put you on my shoulders,” mingi shrugged, leaning down so he didn’t have to yell, his breath warm against your skin. you shuddered, the warmth coursing through you, from alcohol and adrenaline combined, sweat threatened to come back, daring to appear where his hand laid on your lower back.

“we aren’t at a music festival,” you shook your head, finishing off your drink, “stop talking to me, i’m trying to pay attention.”

he stood up tall again, eyes focused on the band, and you directed your focus to the crowd instead. everyone was jumping, dancing, phones out recording, taking pictures, everyone was mesmerized. you let your eyes flicker up to the band again, their stage presence was incredible, leaning into the crowd with their instruments, passing their mic to the crowd that sang along, they were incredible. it might’ve only been the opener song, but the crowd was entranced – the crowd wasn’t just here because this was a good bar in brooklyn, they were here for the show.

you kept your eyes bouncing back and forth between the band and the crowd their entire set, paying attention to everything hongjoong told to you: the band’s sound was consistent, they never missed a note, the crowd knew every word of their set. you couldn’t believe you were on the outside, not in the crowd, instead watching with an eye that no one here knew you were using. it was special, you couldn’t believe hongjoong did this whenever he wanted – you couldn’t wait until this was your life, too.

“not mad at that,” hongjoong said to your group as the lights turned off, signaling the end of their performance, even the end of their encore.

“their energy was lagging by the end of the set,” jag immediately noted, “and the guitarist missed four notes in his solo from the fourth song.”

your mouth parted, you had completely missed that – you thought their performance went flawlessly. that’s the difference between you and jag, the man who’s been a producer for almost a decade now.

mingi nodded, “things that can be fixed – i’m into their originality, there isn’t a sound like theirs in the mix right now, feel like i haven’t heard a band like that since i was a kid.”

“the crowd seemed hype about them, too,” you added, keeping your voice smaller, “not at all lackluster, i liked it.”

you didn’t want to criticize – you didn’t have much critique, anyway – but what if you were wrong?

“the crowd started losing stamina, too,” jag shrugged, “just like their performance.”

“harsh for what?” hongjoong interjected, “they’re young, unlike you. i’m gonna see if i can go talk to them backstage, i’ll be back.”

“i’ll come with you,” jag says to hongjoong, then turns to you and mingi and speaks in a hushed voice, “gonna make sure he doesn’t offer them a contract.”

“i heard that?” hongjoong stood a step away from jag, a hand coming to his hip, his eyebrows raised, “if you’re coming, let’s go.”

that left you and mingi, both quiet, holding empty drinks in the middle of a too packed bar. the crowd remained in front of the stage, only breaking up slightly, everyone seemed to be awaiting the DJ who was supposed to play after the band.

“so, what happened with the husband?” he asked as soon as jag and hongjoong were out of earshot, as if he was waiting all night to pop the question. he had an eyebrow raised as he looked down to you, both hands wrapped around his empty beer, fingers tangled, rings blending into a blur of silver around the glass.

“what do you mean?” his question took you off guard, the last person you expected him to bring up was jeongin, “nothing happened.”

“you’re too quick to defend it, something must’ve happened,” he shrugs, walking closer to the pillar separating the bar area from the crowd. your heart moves itself to your throat – he doesn’t know you enough to be able to read you like this.

“nothing happened,” your voice was edged, “how’s the brunette you were seeing?”

his eyebrows furrowed, head cocking to the side, confusion clear on his face, “what brunette?”

“the one i saw you with in the hallway of steinhardt awhile ago, when me and jeongin were leaving?” you pushed your weight to one leg, hip pushed out, your free hand coming to your hip. his eyebrows stay furrowed for a moment before his entire expression changes – a smile spreading across his face, eyes slimming as he stares down at you. you raised your eyebrows, clearly awaiting an answer as he chuckled to himself.

“first of all, she’s blonde,” he says and his smile warped into a cocky one, the corner of his lips lifted as he spoke, “that was like two months ago. i wasn’t seeing her, we were just hanging out.”

you nodded slowly, your lips pursed, “so you bring all of your hangouts to the studio?”

he leaned into the pillar, head tilted against the structure, one leg bent across the other, “what i do with my hangouts matters to you?”

your ears run hot, standing up a little straighter, “you asked about jeongin first, i thought we were going question for question.”

he pushes off the pillar, coming a step closer to you. “sometimes, yeah, but i’m not seeing anyone, i’m not in a relationship, i’m just as single as i was the night we kissed.”

your breath hitched in your throat, staring up at him through your lashes, begging your body to take a step back, create some distance between the two of you. it didn’t listen, it urged you to step forward, press your chest against him, kiss him again. flashbacks ran through your head, his lips pressed to yours, his tongue in your mouth, his hands gripping your ass – you almost gasped as you felt sheer need shoot through your entire body, he should not of brought that up.

“tell me what actually happened between you and jeongin,” mingi said, his voice lowered, the rasp coming through more now than before – that fucking rasp, you could feel it in your fingertips, his voice was so god damn enticing, it made your body burn.

“w-we’re fighting because i don’t make enough time to see him,” you stuttered over your words, your breath shallow, heart pounding against your chest at how fucking close he was to you. the words came out too quick, as if he picked them out of your head, forcing them out of your mouth with some kind of spell.

his eyebrows furrow, his lips scrunching as he asked, “why not? you have more than enough time, you stay late at the label for no reason.”

you shrug, “it’s not for no reason, i just want to impress yunjin, everyone, really.”

mingi shakes his head, “joong was right, you know. if you don’t make time now you never will, he’s not in our industry, he doesn’t understand.”

you shake your head, fingers gripping your empty glass a little harder, “he already doesn’t understand, he threatened to break up with me because we don’t hangout enough, don’t… sleep together enough.”

your body went cold as ice, you couldn’t believe you just admitted that out loud, so openly and to mingi of all people. the information wasn’t for him to know, it came out of you so quickly, so easily. your body began to feel like jelly – the conversation gave you a sour feeling in your stomach. mingi is the last person who should be giving you relationship advice, he shouldn’t know anything about you and jeongin other than that you were still together.

mingi’s eyebrows raise, he takes a pause before backing away a step, standing up straight. “haven’t you been together for two years?”

“our two year anniversary is saturday,” your lips pull into a tight line, wanting to change the topic, end the conversation as quickly as you started it. it was like word vomit.

his chuckle was sarcastic, disbelieving, “i didn’t think it was fair to talk about it in a group earlier, but you deserve better – more. if he doesn’t get it now, he never will.”

“what makes you think you know him so well?” the ice went right back to heat, the need to defend jeongin rising like bile in your throat, anger flooding you. it gave you whiplash, wanting mingi to wanting to choke him out for speaking on your relationship – he shouldn’t know any of this, but you can’t stop talking – maybe the tequila is to blame.

“he’s a man, a twenty one year old man,” mingi shrugged, “every girl i’ve fucked outside of this industry, every relationship has ended the same exact way.”

“jeongin is different,” you spat, “it’s just a rough patch.”

“were you in a rough patch a couple months ago?” he got closer again, his voice dipping an octave, your neck craned upwards to see him as he spoke with a calculated smirk, “when you spent a night on my lap, instead of being at home with him?”

your eyebrows furrowed, his face too close to yours, wooyoung’s words ringing in your mind – jeongin might be breaking up with you, anyway.

your breath hitches in your throat as he keeps going, “was he complaining then about not seeing you? has he ever been in your studio late at night, talking to you about everything i did? does he listen to your songs, give you advice, tell you how good he thinks you are? did he push you to get an internship? does he give you advice about your schoolwork? does he even know you’re falling behind in school? tell me.”

your eyes are wide, heart in your throat, the whiplash threatening to make you sick. you wish your drink was full, you needed a shot, you needed something to take the edge off of this conversation, to change the topic. with every word his face got closer, with every breath on your face the feeling in your gut only got worse, you couldn’t begin to decipher what this feeling was.

you couldn’t answer him, your silence was answer enough. it was like a game of tug of war, you love jeongin, but mingi couldn’t be any closer to the truth. you felt entranced, just like you did that night on the couch of your studio, being in mingi’s presence was so fucking confusing – it was if you were in your own bubble. no one else was in the bar, there was no crowd awaiting the DJ, there was just you and mingi and his brutally honest words.

“i thought so,” mingi nodded, his face mere centimeters from yours. if you leaned forward just a little…

“mingi,” jag’s voice was threatening – a warning. “leave the intern alone, you and hongjoong both, man. i’m seriously going to talk to the CEO and issue a mandatory STD test for everyone who works at republic.”

you and mingi both jump backward, putting as much space between the two of you as possible. you glanced to jag with wide eyes, simultaneously frustrated and pissed he broke that up – you were so close to feeling his lips against yours again, so close to selfishly fulfilling every desire that just ran through you.

your face was hot, your ears burning at the feeling of being caught. you shook your head to jag, “that wasn’t what it looks like, mingi and i are just friends, we go to school together.”

“whatever that was is between you and god, i don’t care,” jag shook his head, taking a swig from his beer, “i need a cigarette, you horny kids are fucking aging me.”

hongjoong follows close behind, bouncing as he walked with a wide smile on his face, “guess what band is about to be signed with republic records?”

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