#THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING A FIC LIKE THIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

etherealyoungk · 2 days ago

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─ ♡ crash course in romance | kwon soonyoung

SUMMARY: meet kwon soonyoung, he’s the ultimate goofball—sweet and chaotic but clueless when it comes to romance. so when you ask him to be your fake boyfriend even though you barely know him, he says yes, even though he's never dated before and has no idea what to do. as you show him the ropes and coach him on how to be the perfect boyfriend and slowly get to know him, soonyoung finds himself slowly falling for you. and maybe, just maybe, you're falling for him too.

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x fem!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, fake dating, best friend’s brother, first love, light slow burn, humour, rom com.

WARNINGS: kissing, fluff, light angst, mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, use of curse words, little suggestive (towards the end), cameo of roommate!seungkwan and other svt members, hoshi being a clueless idiot

WORDCOUNT: 40.8k

A/N: FINALLY A LONG FIC FOR MY HUSBAND AAAA . this fic is part of the lonely hearts cafe collab by @camandemstudios! i had so much fun writing this fic. yapped to much and ended up with 40k but i'm so proud of this fic. thank you to @wheeboo for hearing me crash out over this fic. it is also set in the same universe as her chan fic! and thank you to cam and em for hosting this lovely collab! please support the other writers in this collab and check out their amazing fics too! i would love to know what you think so feedback is always appreciated <3 thank you to @diamonddaze01 and sar @cheolhub for beta-ing the fic!

you’re about to pull up at your best friend, jihyo’s place. you dial her number, calling her up and she picks up after four rings, her voice filling the space in your car.

“hey”, she says as she picks up. “hey jihyo, i’m about to reach your place to collect my mail and other packages”, you say. “oh, i’m actually not at home right now, but i’ll tell soonyoung to hand them over to you, i think he’s dropped by”, jihyo informs and you can hear the bustle of people talking through the phone as she speaks, assuming she must be at work. “sure, okay”, you say and jihyo mumbles something about calling you back later before cutting the call. you pull up at her driveway a few minutes later.

you step out of the car and walk up to the house, ringing the doorbell. usually you’d ring the doorbell and walk right in, but considering she wasn’t there, you didn’t want to suddenly intrude, it felt odd. you wait a few moments and you can hear the shuffle of feet from the inside, along with a soft thud of something falling, probably a box. the door finally opens and you’re greeted by kwon soonyoung—jihyo’s younger brother.

“hey, yn right?”, he says when he sees you. “jihyo told me you’re here to collect your mail and stuff”, he tells with a slightly frazzled face, like he was put to this task last at the minute and had no idea what to do, like a deer in headlights. you nod and he gestures for you to enter. you walk inside as he disappears back into the other room, probably to fetch your mail. you’d asked jihyo to drop by your place if she could to collect your mail since you’d been out of town for two weeks on a business trip and you didn’t want anyone stealing your packages or snooping around.

you’d known jihyo ever since you joined university. she was your roommate and now bestfriend. she was kind, sweet, funny and a little chaotic, but you loved everything about her. so naturally, you’d been to her house countless times, and met her brother too— soonyoung. he was two years younger than jihyo and you, and he was always so sweet. when you’d come over during the break or to hang out, you’d see soonyoung occasionally or bump into him when you were entering or leaving, as he’d always be doing his own thing. but now, you were probably seeing him for the first time since you graduated university and started a job, having moved a little further away into the city. so it’s been almost three years since you saw soonyoung again, because whenever you’d meet jihyo now, it was always in the city or somewhere out, not at her family home.

soonyoung had changed a lot. he’d grown tall and his hair that had been virgin black was now dyed a silver blonde. it had grown too, his hair falling over his forehead in a cute shaggy mess and growing a little long at the ends, almost at the beginning stages of a mullet and somehow, he pulled it off—t looked good on him. his face was framed by soft rounded features and he somehow raidated a youthful, approachable glow about him. his almond shaped eyes are soft, but also sharp, holding warmth in them, and lastly he had definitely been hitting the gym because he looked different—he looked good.

two minutes later, soonyoung walks into the room holding a big box with a smaller box stacked on top of it along with a few small parcels and envelopes. “this is all the stuff”, he announces, like he’d just accomplished a huge task by collecting all of this for you.

“thanks!”, you say, taking a step forward to take the box but he speaks again. “let me load it up in your car, it’s a bit heavy”, he says as he looks at you, blinking. “okay, sure”, you say and you open the door, walking outside towards your car with soonyoung following beside you. you unlock the car and pop open the trunk and soonyoung sets down the pile of boxes with a soft thud before taking a step back.

“thanks again soonyoung”, you say, looking up at him. now that he was right next to you, you realise how tall he’d actually grown. he gives you a polite smile as he runs a hand through his silver blonde hair, the strands of hair getting messed up, falling over his forehead in a cutely disheveled manner. “it’s no problem”, he says and with that you give him another small wave and head out, heading back home.

when you get home, you find your apartment spick and span—quite the contrast to which you had left it, considering you had left on the business trip in a rather short notice. but now as you walk inside, your shoes are all neatly lined up by the side, the bunch of laundry that had been rotting on your bed for two weeks was neatly folded and kept aside in your wardrobe. your mugs, which had piled up were all neatly rinsed and washed and your fridge was stocked with new food—no doubt all the doings of your mother.

you immediately reach for your phone and dial your mother’s number and she picks up almost immediately, like she had been waiting for you to call. you drag your suitcase to your room and leave it there, taking off your coat and throwing it on your bed.

“mom, did you drop by?”, you ask, already knowing the answer, but you liked to tease her. you visibly hear her sigh and you hold back your laugh.

“no darling, a ghost dropped by your apartment”, she deadpans, making you let out the laugh that you were holding. “i don’t even think a ghost would want to live in your apartment in that state”, she adds.

“i was busy and i had to leave on short notice”, you counter. “that’s what you always say”, she says and you scowl. “it was really short notice this time”, you say and she only hums in response.

“thank you mom, i love and appreciate you for that”, you say after a moment. “i made your favourite, it’s in the fridge”, she adds and you smile. your mom really knew the way to your heart. you walk towards the kitchen and fill the kettle with some water.

“so, did you meet any cute guys on your trip”, she asks and you let out a small groan at her question. of course that’s what she’d ask you first, not how the trip was or how work had been.

“no mom, it was a work trip”, you say, letting out a sigh. “still! you should keep an eye out”, she says. “after you broke up with that jaehyun, you’ve been sulking around. it’s time to find a guy and settle down”, she adds and just then the kettle lets out a whistle, signaling that the hot water is ready. you take a mug from the shelf and pour the boiling hot water into in, watching as the steam curls at the top before you drop in a tea bag, watching the tea leaves slowly seep into the water, turning it into green tea.

“for the millionth time, he broke up with me mom, and i just need some space right now, i’m not in the mood for a relationship, nor do i have the time”, you tell as you take the mug of tea and walk over to the couch, plopping down on it and putting the mug on the table beside you.

“nonsense, if you start dating again you’ll feel better. do you want me to find someone for you? i found this guy, i’ll send you his picture, i can set you up with him on a blind date and—”, you cut her off.

“mom, i’m serious about the no dating thing right now”, you say and she clicks her tongue in disapproval. “i’ll still send you his picture if you change your mind”, she says as you take a sip of the hot tea.

fast forward two weeks later, you’re at the bar of a restaurant, downing your fourth drink of the night. the music playing is loud and the lights are dim. you put the empty glass down on the marble counter with a soft clink and shake your head a little to get your mind straight. you can already feel the effects of the alcohol in your system, your head feeling light—you were definitely tipsy. you glance over your shoulder and see your coworkers all talking to each other, laughing about something, all nursing drinks of their own and you turn your head again, looking down at the empty glass in front of you before asking for another drink. this was a company treat for finishing a project with a high value client. that’s why you’d been out of town for those last two weeks, securing the deal and finishing the project. it had all been riding on you and you’d done it. though if you were being honest, you really didn’t want to be here right now. you’d rather have been at home, lying in your bed, under the blankets and watching some nonsense on television. but who were you to say no to free food and drinks since the company was paying for it—so here you were.

your phone pings with a message from your mom and you open it to see another picture of a guy she’d found you, saying he came from a good background and that you’d be a good match. she really was not taking no for an answer. you sigh and put your phone down with a light thud and groan, burying your hands in your face.

“are you okay?”, you hear someone ask and you peek through your hands to see whoever it was, only to recognise the face—kwon soonyoung. you look at him and a hint of recognition seems to flit over his features as well as he looks at you.

“soonyoung? hey”, you say, sitting a little straighter. “yn hey”, he says, his tone casual.

somehow, hearing your name from soonyoung’s mouth feels oddly sweet. “are you okay? it looks like you were having a bit of an existential crisis”, he says, making you sigh even more. you look at him and his silver blonde hair seems to catch the light he’s sitting under and it highlighst his features. his jawline is sharp and his eyes are just as sharp. he’s wearing jeans, a shirt and a ring adorns his pinky finger. you notice the helix piercing in his ear, which you never noticed before and you glance away for a second before looking back at him.

“yeah, that’s exactly what is happening right now”, you say as soonyoung takes a seat beside you.

“what are you doing here by the way, is jihyo here too?”, you ask and he shakes his head.

“nope, i’m here alone”, he informs and you nod. “you?”, he asks, curious in his tone.

“work dinner”, you say, gesturing to the table over to the side where all your colleagues sat, talking and drinking and his eyes follow your gaze before returning back to yours.

you glance over at soonyoung, realising you don’t actually know much about him. all you knew is that he graduated last year because jihyo told you about it, but besides that, nothing much.

“so, what have you been up to?”, you ask, curiosity getting the better of you and soonyoung seems to sit up straighter at your question.

“i’m actually working! i’m the manager and one of the instructors at a dance studio downtown”, he says and you widen your eyes in surprise.

“wow, that’s very cool”, you say. you remember jihyo mentioning something about soonyoung liking dance, and having even majored in a dance related program in college. “i think it’s been almost three years since i saw you, so you’ve changed quite a lot, grown up i can say”, you tell and he gives you an almost shy smile.

“yeah, my mom always mentions you, asking jihyo to invite you over to dinner”, soonyoung fills in and you smile, remembering how warm and welcoming jihyo’s mom and entire family has always been with you. you really should drop by sometime.

“what have you been doing?”, he asks a moment later.

“nothing much, same old corporate job that i say i’ll quit everyday but don’t because i need the money”, you tell, feeling deadbeat.

the drink you had ordered finally arrives and you take a big sip, emptying it almost immediately. soonyoung looks a little alarmed at that but he doesn’t say anything. you feel the rush and buzz in your head, feeling tipsy and slightly intoxicated before you decide to speak again, which was a bad decision because you were always a yapper when you got tipsy. so right now, soonyoung was going to face the wrath of whatever nonsense you were going to tell him, poor thing.

“this sounds really stupid, but my mom keeps trying to set me up on blind dates and i keep telling her i don’t want to date right now and she can’t seem to take no for an answer”, you tell in one breath.

“that’s exactly like my mom, she keeps trying to set me up too”, he says, a small lopsided pout forming on his face as he speaks.

“damn, i think all moms are just universally coded like that”, you joke and he lets out a small laugh.

there’s a moment of silence between you both after that and you gulp down the rest of whatever drink is remaining in your glass.

“the thing is, i’ve never dated before so she thinks something is wrong with me”, soonyoung fills in.

“wait, what? really?”, you ask, a little surprised because looking at soonyoung now, he was pretty good looking and pretty handsome, so hearing him say he’s never dated before takes you by surprise.

he nods. “yeah, i just…haven’t found the one you know”, he says, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“my mom thinks i’ve dated too much and something is wrong with me”, you tell, letting out a small laugh at your situation. “she wants me to settle down and stuff but i’m not ready for that, at least not now”, you add. “it’s kind of ironic considering i have four exes, so you’d think i’d have found the one by now, but nope”, you say defeated.

“it’d be funny if we fake date just to get them off our backs”, you blurt out a second later without thinking, the words already out before you can take it back and you watch as soonyoung blinks at you, the words slowly sinking into him.

“that’s actually a genius idea”, he says, a hint of enthusiasm in his tone. “wait, really?”, you ask, not expecting that answer from him. “i could use a break from my mom trying to set me up on blind dates, i wouldn’t mind”, he says.

“okay, done deal”, you say almost immediately. why? because you were stupid and tipsy and not thinking straight. just then one of your coworkers comes over, saying you were wanted back at the table and she grabs your arm, taking you over there.

“i’ll text you”, you mouth to soonyoung who watches you leave. but who were you kidding, you weren’t going to text soonyoung because you didn’t have his number.

a week later you seem to have completely forgotten about the deal you had made with soonyoung when your head was in the clouds. sure, you remember meeting him and talking to him, but the bit about fake dating seemed to have been erased from your memory. so when you go to see jihyo later that evening, you're surprised to see soonyoung there too. you all sit down at a cafe nearby, jihyo saying that soonyoung was in the area so she called him over too since he had the car.

the conversations are normal, nothing ordinary, just you filling in jihyo on your work drama and life while she does the same, while soonyoung leans back in his chair, listening intently. you didn’t think soonyoung had a thing for gossip, but the concentration on his face and the way his brows were furrowed said otherwise.

jihyo’s phone rings and she excuses herself, saying it was a work call and walks outside the cafe to speak, leaving you and soonyoung alone. soonyoung picks up his eyes and looks at you before speaking.

“are we still doing the fake dating thing?”, soonyoung asks softly and you almost choke on your tea upon hearing his words. he’s quick to hand you a tissue and lean forward and push the glass of water towards you.

“the what now?”, you ask and he gives you that lopsided pout again. why did that look so cute on him.

“fake dating? you know, the one we talked about last week at the bar?”, he fills in and you wrack your brain trying to think when you both even talked about this before the memory seems to slowly make its way back into your mind.

“oh”, you say once you seem to recall everything and you glance outside, seeing jihyo still talking on the phone.

“you were serious about it?”, you question, which only seems to make him more confused.

“were you not serious about it?”, he asks, blinking at you. you open your mouth to speak but close it, unsure what to say.

“but won’t it be awkward since i’m jihyo’s friend?”, you ask and he only shrugs, like that didn’t seem to matter to him.

“nah, i’m sure she’d be chill with it, we could let her know too, it could just be a something between the three of us”, he explains and you nod because he did have a point.

“i’ll think about it okay, give me a day?”, you ask and he nods. “sure, you can text me”, he adds and you internally wince. “i actually don’t have your number so”, you say softly, unlocking your phone and handing it over to him. he dials in his number and hands it back to you.

jihyo’s walks back in, taking a seat, looking between you and soonyoung, giving you both a look. “what happened here?”, she asks and you both seem to shake your heads at the same time.

“nothing, i was just asking soonyoung what he’s been up to”, you say instead and she seems to smile, sitting back down. “he’s been up to a lot, haven’t you soonie”, jihyo says, nudging him with her elbow and soonyoung gives her a look at the mention of his nickname.

you don’t text soonyoung after a day, nor the day after and it’s been a week now. you’ve sat and thought about it, overanalyzed it, overthought it and made up every possible worst case scenario that could happen if you fake date your best friend's brother and the light at the end of the tunnel does not seem bright with that idea. so, you decide to tell him no, that you don’t want to fake date, that it was a stupid idea and would never work in the first place. but when your mom calls you up again, trying to set you up on yet another blind date, you’ve hit your limit. you open your phone, click on soonyoung’s contact and text him.

you [7:37 PM]: hey, it’s yn! i’ve decided that yes, we can go ahead with the fake dating plan.

when soonyoung gets your text, he nearly drops his phone. after you failed to text him, twice, he was bummed, thinking that you didn’t want to talk with him, and that you just said that you’d text him just to be nice since you were jihyo’s friend. but now as he sees your text on the screen, he doesn’t know how to respond.

“close your mouth man, a fly is going to go in there”, seungkwan says, snapping soonyoung back to reality.

soonyoung whips his head up and clears his throat, setting his phone down on the table. he glances at seungkwan, his roommate and friend, and that one look from soonyoung is all it takes for seungkwan to understand that soonyoung was up to no good.

seungkwan visibly sighs before he speaks. “what did you do now?”, he asks, massaging his temples.

“first of all, i didn’t even do anything”, soonyoung counters. “right, now spill”, seungkwan says and soonyoung takes a second before he speaks again.

“what do you know about fake dating?”, soonyoung asks, almost too innocently, making seungkwan’s eyes widen. “fake dating? what ghost has possessed you”, he asks, making soonyoung roll his eyes.

“just tell me if you know anything about it or not”, soonyoung says, crossing his arms over his chest in defense, frowning slightly. “i don’t know man, i guess it’s just like normal dating expect it's fake. you’re pretending and putting on an act and of course the most important thing is that you don’t catch feelings”, seungkwan says.

“is it hard?”, soonyoung asks, genuinely curious and seungkwan only blinks at his roommate. “i don’t know? i’ve never fake dated”, seungkwan says, exasperated all of a sudden. “why do you want to know all this anyway?”, he asks. soonyoung only blinks back at seungkwan and shrugs his shoulders. “just curious”, he says, trying to act casual but seungkwan can see right through it.

“did something happen at the dance studio? is this why you’re asking about this?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung shakes his head.

“no! nothing like that, i was just asking jeez”, soonyoung says, pushing his chair back and getting up, grabbing his phone from the table as he trudges back into his room. seungkwan doesn’t ask anything more as he watches soonyoung go. soonyoung sighs softly, falling on his bed and staring up at the ceiling, thinking about how to respond to you. he feels like a fool now. he’s the one that brought it up, suggesting the fake dating plan when you’d clearly just been joking about it. but now that you said yes, he had no idea what to do. a moment later he reaches for his phone, opens your contact and texts you back.

soonyoung [7:55 PM]: hey! okay let’s do it.

you [7:56 PM]: sounds good! let’s meet up tomorrow afternoon? i’ll text you when i’m free and we can go from there!

you’re sitting in a cafe downtown, waiting for soonyoung. you were nervous for some reason and it makes you laugh, because you’d never get this nervous about meeting someone. you deal with clients on a daily basis and they never made you feel like this. you take a deep breath and that’s when soonyoung walks in. you see him enter the cafe, his eyes scanning the area before they land on you. you give him a small wave and he makes his way towards you, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

“hey”, you say. “hi, sorry if i’m late, the class ran a bit late”, he informs but you didn't mind.

“no worries, can i get you anything?”, you ask, standing up to order. “oh, no it’s fine”, he says but you wave your hand. “it’s fine soonyoung, my treat, what will you have?”, you ask and he says he’ll just have an iced americano.

his coffee and your hot tea arrives and you set it down on the table, taking a seat. soonyoung’s hair is styled differently today, exposing his forehead, with just a few loose strands falling over his forehead and he’s wearing jeans and a loose button up shirt.

“so,” you began, clearing your throat a little too loudly. “um, how’s your… coffee?”, you ask, wincing internally, realizing how dumb you sounded. but soonyoung only seemed to smile softly and nod. “it’s good,” he says, his almond shaped eyes sparkling with warmth. ”how’s your tea?”, he asks.

“it’s good too,” you say, taking a sip, swallowing it down and there was another beat of silence.

“so”, you start again, looking at soonyoung. “about the fake dating thing…i guess we should set some ground rules right?”, you say and he nods, like he understood what you meant, but he didn’t. he takes a sip of his coffee, gulping down 1/4th of the drink in all the nervousness before he looks back at you.

“i don’t really know how fake dating works”, he finally says. “i mean i’ve never dated before, so i don’t know how this entire thing works really”, he admits, looking sheepish.

“that’s fine soonyoung, i’ll teach you. i have plenty of experience, so i can definitely show you the ropes and stuff about dating, it isn’t that big of a deal”, you add on and relief seems to wash over his features. “okay”, he says, “so what do we do?”.

“first the ground rules: make a convincing story, set some boundaries and an end date”, you say and he nods along, waiting for you to continue.

“so, for the story, if anyone asks how we met, we gotta have the same story so it’s convincing”, you explain. “so we could just say we met through jihyo, right?”, he suggests and you nod. “yeah, sure, that could work”, you say. “we’re going to tell jihyo about this right, otherwise it’s going to be really awkward”, you add and he nods again.

“okay then, now for the boundaries. we can decide what is okay and not, PDA wise and stuff”, you say and soonyoung only seems to blink at you, a little clueless.

“PDA?”, he asks. “public display of affection? you know, like holding hands and stuff”, you tell.

“right, yes”, he says. “so, are you okay with that? i mean holding hands and stuff if we need to? that’s all we’ll basically do, drawing the line there, no kissing or anything else, just holding hands”, you say.

“okay, only holding hands, that’s easy”, he says, like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“and the end date, how long do you think we should do this for?”, you ask and he leans back in his chair, thinking, that small frown forming on his face again as he’s thinking.

“how long do people usually do this for?”, he asks, like you’re some sort of expert in fake dating. “uh— maybe three months to begin with? we can decide what to do after that”, you tell, unsure how long to set this for either. “so basically if we both need plus ones to an event, we can call each other or if your mom bothers you again, just say you’re dating me”, you tell.

another sense of relief seems to wash over soonyoung at your words and he lets out a small goofy smile. “okay”.

“okay”, you say and silence seems to engulf you both again. “cool”, he repeats, getting nervous again. “cool”, you repeat again, an awkward tension now filling the air between the both of you. you take a sip of your tea, but the silence only seems to grow louder before you decide to speak again.

“i should head back to work, but just text me if you need anything”, you say, gathering your bag and standing up. soonyoung stands up too and says a small ‘see you’ before watching you walk out the cafe door.

that night as you lay in bed, you just can’t bring yourself to call jihyo and tell her this rather ridiculous plan about fake dating her younger brother. you were somehow convinced that and sure that she’d disown you, block you and ask you what the hell was wrong with you. so after contemplating about it for nearly an hour, your finger that was hovering over her contact finally taps the call button and the phone rings. you throw your phone on the side, burying your face into the pillow, regretting every life decision you’ve ever made when she picks up, her voice filling the room since it was on speakerphone.

“yn hi babe”, she says, sounding upbeat. “hi babe”, you say and pause, trying to gather your thoughts and think of how to drop this bomb of information on her.

“i need to tell you something”, you start off. “but promise me that you won’t kill me”, you say and jihyo laughs. “what yn, you know i would never do that, what’s wrong?”, she asks but you hesitate. “you did say that the one time i texted my ex”, you say and she scoffs. “okay that was for a valid reason though, we don’t support texting exes over here”, she says and you roll your eyes.

“okay back to the topic”, you say as you gather the courage to spill the beans to her. “you know how my mom keeps trying to set me up on blind dates right?”, you ask.

“yeah, oh my god, is she still doing that?”, jihyo asks and you groan out a yes.

“so what about it?”, she asks, trying to get back to whatever you were trying to tell her. “i might have made a really stupid decision”, you say, biting your lip.

“what did you do?”, she asks. “i may have decided to fake date this guy to get her off my back”, you say and you hear jihyo exclaim on the other side.

“OHMYGOD WHO”, she asks, almost yelling at you and you wince, clearing your throat before breaking the news to her.

“your brother, soonyoung”, you say softly, hoping she didn’t hear it but she does.

“wait WHAT”, she asks and you can hear the confusion in her voice. “what do you mean you’re going to fake date soonyoung? my brother?”, she asks again, like she was trying to make sure she didn’t hear you wrong.

“yes, soonyoung, your younger brother”, you repeat and the line is silent for a few seconds.

“are you insane? what is wrong with you”, she says. “i’m not insane! it’s a perfectly good solution for two people to fake date to get their pestering mother’s off their backs!”, you tell, trying to sound convincing but it seems to lack conviction even to you.

“i met soonyoung at the bar two weeks ago and we talked a bit. he told me about how your mom kept trying to set him up on blind dates and stuff, so i jokingly suggested we fake date since my mom was doing the same thing, and well, here we are”, you explain.

“but soonyoung out of all people? he’s clueless yn, he’s a walking disaster when it comes to dating, no wonder he’s still single”, jihyo says and suddenly you feel bad for him.

“hey! don’t say that, i’m sure he’ll make a great boyfriend”, you say, recalling how cool he looked when you saw him earlier. he just needed a little push, somewhere to start. “he’s cute”, you say and jihyo scoffs softly. “well, don’t say i didn’t warn you about what you’re getting into”, she says. “yes ma’am”, you say and she laughs.

“also this is top secret, you can’t let anyone know we’re fake dating. i’m only telling you because you're my best friend and his sister, so i don’t want things getting awkward between us”, you say and jihyo hums at your words.

when soonyoung gets home that night there’s a shift in energy in him, he’s nervous, but also excited for some reason. seungkwan is quick to notice and soonyoung decides to be the first to break the news to him—that he has a girlfriend now, but he was going to leave the fake part out of it.

“i—um— seem to have gotten myself a girlfriend”, soonyoung says once he’s closer and seungkwan spits out the water in his mouth, the water sputtering out and landing right on soonyoung shirt.

“seungkwan what the hell?”, soonyoung shouts looking down at his clothes, as seungkwan wipes his mouth with his hand.

“what? you got yourself a girlfriend? the mr. i won’t date till i find the right one has finally found himself a girlfriend?”, he asks, shocked.

“yeah, why is that so hard to believe?”, soonyoung asks with a frown and seungkwan nods. “yeah that’s really hard to believe, but who’s the girl?”, he asks and soonyoung shrugs lightly.

“just someone, you don’t know them”, soonyoung says, trying to avoid the topic but he melts under seungkwan’s gaze and gives in, “she’s my sister’s best friend”, soonyoung finally admits and seungkwan’s sharp inhale of air can he heard.

“i didn’t know you had a thing for your sister’s best friend dude, holy shit”, seungkwan says, but soonyoung only rubs the back of his neck, trying to ease his nerves and play it cool.

“yeah, haha, i mean my sister is cool with it so”, soonyoung says, hoping he sounded convincing enough.

“so you think she’s the one then?”, seungkwan asks. “you’re always telling me that you didn’t want to date just for the sake of dating, but wanted to only date when you found the right person”, he asks and soonyoung feels his ears turn red at seungkwan’s words. fuck, he was going to have to lie again to keep this up or else he was screwed.

“yeah, she’s the one”, soonyoung says quickly before turning around and making a beeline to his room, nearly slamming the door shut. shit, this was going to be harder than he thought.

“what do people do on dates?”, soonyoung asks the next morning, the question sounding so innocent that seungkwan wants to strangle him.

“people just do couple things, they talk about stuff, support each other, do things together, hold hands, kiss”, seungkwan says, listing out stuff.

“do i have to be like cool?”, he asks. “no man, you don’t have to be cool, just be you”, seungkwan replies.

“do you know what she likes?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung only blinks back at him. “then go ask her, find out what she likes, dislikes, get to know her. i thought you’d know all this by now”, seungkwan says in an almost scolding tone.

“of course i know what she likes!”, soonyoung replies before he says something about having two classes scheduled today so he’ll be home only in the evening and he walks out the door, thinking he’s such an idiot, that he was doomed—because he really didn’t know much about you. he had half a mind to call jihyo and ask, she’d know plenty of things about you. he was even sure jihyo would know your astrological chart by heart if he asked but he didn’t.

work is busy today and you had two client meetings, plus you had to manage three projects simultaneously so you were running around pretty much the entire day today. you barely have the time to eat lunch or dinner, just nibbling on some snack bars through the afternoon and by the time you clock out, it’s late, later than usual. you walk to the bus stop, hoping you haven’t missed the last bus and sit down and wait, hoping it’ll still come otherwise you are going to have to take a cab.

on the other side of the road, soonyoung walks, evidently a little tired but still energised, a slight little bounce in his step. it isn’t until soonyoung turns around to cross the road that he spots you sitting at the bus stop across the road. it’s an odd thing really, how you’d always taken a bus at that bus stop, and how soonyoung always walked down that path everyday for the last two years, but today is the only time he sees you there, notices you.

he straightens up and blinks, looking at you to make sure it was indeed you and crosses the road when the light turns green. you haven’t seen him yet, busy typing away on your phone. he stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and walks towards you, his shoes crunching on the leaves fallen on the roadside.

“yn hey”, he says and you snap your head up at the mention of your name, your gaze softening when it lands on soonyoung.

“oh, hey”, you say, surprised to see him here. “heading home?”, he asks and you nod. “yeah, you too?”, you ask and he nods.

“do you always work this late?”, he asks, taking a seat next to you. “no, usually i leave earlier, but today was a busy day, i had things to take care off”, you say and he nods.

the bus finally comes and you get up. you turn around, giving soonyoung a small wave before you climb onto the bus and find a window seat. soonyoung watches as the bus leaves before he turns on his heel and continues walking in the other direction, kicking a stone as he takes a step, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. soonyoung reaches home and unlocks the door to the apartment, stepping inside and spots seungkwan on the couch.

“someone is late”, he says but soonyoung shrugs.

“i was with my girlfriend, i saw her at the bus stop so i stopped to talk”, soonyoung tells proudly. “did you drop her home too?”, seungkwan asks and soonyoung furrows his brows in confusion.

“drop her home? was i supposed to?”, soonyoung asks and seungkwan runs a hand across his face, clearly done with his clueless friends behaviour.

“dude, it’s so late and you let her take the bus alone and didn’t even offer to drop her home? are you stupid? that’s the basic thing to do when you’re in a relationship”, seungkwan explains, shaking his head in disapproval.

“i think instead of dance classes, you need to start taking some romance classes”, seungkwan adds. “wait, is that actually a thing? do you think i should sign up for that?”, soonyoung asks, oblivious, which only makes seungkwan groan even louder.

“oh my god, you, my friend, are hopeless, i can’t believe this”, seungkwan exclaims.

if soonyoung was going to get this fake dating thing right, he had a lot to learn.

“did you look at the picture i sent, he’s a decent guy yn, give him a chance”, your mom says as you wait for the leftover takeaway food to heat up in the microwave. you take a breath, because you had to break the news, and you weren’t sure how she was going to react to it.

“mom, i found a guy and we’re in a relationship”, you say and you mom goes silent for a moment before her voice crackles through the phone again. “who?”, she asks, her tone a little scary. well, here goes nothing.

“soonyoung”, you say. “who?” your mom asks again and the microwave beeps, your hand reaching out to open it.

“soonyoung, you know, jihyo’s younger brother”, you say, hoping she wasn’t going to freak out about this.

“how long has this been going for”, you mom asks, her tone taking a sort of serious edge. “last week”, you say, biting your lip as you take the plate and walk over to the small table.

“why?”, she asks and you furrow your brows. “what do you mean why, mom, i like him”, you say, trying to sound convincing.

“what does he do?”, she asks. “he works at a dance studio”, you say. “does jihyo’s mom know about this?”, she questions and your silence is all she needs to get an answer.

“of course mom”, you say a beat too late, hoping you didn’t screw things up already, but soonyoung’s family were bound to find out about this some way or another. you just didn’t know how quick the news was going to spread like wildfire. your mom had immediately called up soonyoung’s mom, who then asked jihyo if this was true before calling up her son for more answers.

when soonyoung’s phone rings, his mom’s caller ID on display, he smiles and picks up the phone, but he doesn’t expect his mom to ask him bluntly, “you’re dating your sister’s best friend?”. soonyoung nearly trips on the steps but catches his balance before it’s too late and stops in his tracks.

“what—how did you find out?”, he asks. “you think i’m not keeping tabs on you boy? i have eyes everywhere”, his mom tells and soonyoung scratches his head.

“how long has this been going on for?”, she asks and soonyoung stutters out an answer, wracking his brain on what to say. “last two weeks”, he says and his mom clicks her tongue.

“yn’s mom said it’s been going on since last week”, she questions him and soonyoung nearly breaks into a cold sweat with the way his mom was interrogating him. “um-yeah-no last week-it’s been official since last week”, soonyoung sputters out, hoping he didn’t already bust his cover. “i see”, is all his mom says after that, the line going silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.

“take good care of her”, is all his mom says finally, before saying she had to get back to making some kimchi and hangs up the phone.soonyoung stands there stunned and a little nervous about how he’s going to tell you about this. he decides to text you when he gets home.

soonyoung [6:33 PM]: hey! hope all is well.

you [6:35 PM]: yeah, what’s up?

soonyoung[ 6:37 PM]: so my mom found out we’re dating…

you [6:38 PM]: omfg i’m sorry this is my mom’s doing i told her and she must’ve immediately called your mom 😭

soonyoung [6:39 PM]: oh…so we’re cool right?

you [6:39 PM]: yeah, don’t worry, they were bound to find out anyway.

soonyoung [6:40 PM]: okay 👍🏽

you call jihyo when you reach home. “i told my mom and she immediately told your mom like we committed a crime or something”, you tell. “yeah, my mom sort of chewed my head about it too, i’m glad soonyoung isn’t here or he'd put me in hell right now”, jihyo laughs.”i wouldn’t be surprised if half the neighbourhood knows about this by tomorrow”, you add and jihyo laughs even more.

“are you enjoying my sorrow right now?”, you ask. “well, you’re the genius who wanted to fake date my brother out of all people, so this is on you, don’t say i didn’t warn you”, jihyo says and you scoff.

“whatever”, you tell. “but your family is chill with this right?”, you ask, unsure.

“yes, what do you mean? my mom is literally in love with you, she’s doting over you all the time, so i know she’s secretly happy about this, even though it’s fake”, jihyo says and you let out a small breath of relief. “okay good, because i was starting to think i would never be welcome in your house again”, you joke.

“you know, soonyoung works really close to your office, he moved into that part of town too for work and stuff”, jihyo says and your ears perk up at this piece of information.

“oh yeah, no wonder i bumped into him at the bus stop yesterday”, you say, the information clicking in your brain. “if you get the time, you should drop by the dance studio, it’s actually pretty cool and he’s actually really good at teaching and dancing”, jihyo praises.

“how come he’s never dated before?”, you ask, curious to know the reason. you remember him telling you something about not finding the one, but you were sure jihyo had more inside information on why exactly.

“i don’t know, he’s always been sweet, but when it came to dating, he wasn’t really interested. he said he didn’t like anyone, and wanted to devote his time to dancing rather than dating. he’d always say he’d date someone when the time was right, when he really liked someone”, jihyo explains and you hum in response. “yeah, he’s silly like that. good luck dealing with him”, she says, making you chuckle.

“come on, he’s not that bad, he’s sweet”, you say.

“did you break up with your girlfriend or something? i haven't seen you talk to her or go meet her once this entire week”, seungkwan asks as soonyoung is eating dinner, who nearly chokes on the spoonful of soup.

“she’s just busy!”, soonyoung counters and seungkwan only narrows his eyes at soonyoung, not taking his word for it. “she’s busy”, soonyoung mutters again, averting his gaze, looking at the meal in front of him, but he can still feel seungkwan’s piercing gaze on him.

“something isn’t adding up”, seungkwan declares, crossing his arms over his chest and soonyoung tries not to panic, he couldn't blow his cover. “is she not taking you seriously because you’re her best friend’s brother?”, he asks and soonyoung blinks in relief.

“no dude, she really likes me, she’s just really busy at her super important corporate job”, soonyoung says and seungkwan raises a brow. “corporate job? what does she do?”, he asks and soonyoung freezes, because fuck, he had no idea what you did.

“um, she’s like super duper important and has a really high position”, soonyoung says and seungkwan furrows his brows more. “but what exactly does she do?”, he asks and soonyoung lets out a fake cough, standing up to go grab some water and he turns around, only to see seungkwan still waiting for an answer.

“she deals with people you know, she’s a people person”, soonyoung says, sounding like a fool. “right, and i’m supposed to understand what that means”, seungkwan tells and soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh.

“i mean, even if i told you, you wouldn’t understand, it’s complicated”, soonyoung says, trying to act cool and just then seungkwan’s phone rings, prompting him to get up to fetch it and soonyoung thanks the gods because he was this close to revealing the truth.

“my mom wants you to come over for dinner”. jihyo says over the phone.

“oh…oh… is this bad? oh my god”, you say, panicking a little. it was funny how you’d always loved her family, her mom loving and welcoming you, but now that you were dating, well fake dating her son, suddenly the thought of going over for dinner felt daunting.

“yn chill out, you’re acting like my mom is going to kidnap you and chop you up into pieces! she’s chill with you guys dating trust me”, jihyo says, trying to soothe you. “i don’t know why you’re freaking out so much when the whole arrangement is fake anyway”, she adds.

“i just don’t want your mom to think i broke her son’s heart when we end the thing”, you say and jihyo hums. “i’m sure she’ll understand”, she says, trying to soothe you. “so you’ll drop by this weekend for dinner then?”, jihyo asks again and you bite your lip, contemplating a response before you say yes, because if you were going to fake date, you had to do it right.

on the day of the dinner with jihyo’s family, you’re a mess. your entire wardrobe is dumped out on your bed and you’ve tried on at least eight articles of clothes, discarding them all because they didn’t look good. you finally settle for something simple, a pair of high waisted jeans paired with a flowy baby blue top that was tucked in, and ankle length boots. it was simple and comfortable. you decide to drive to her place instead of taking the bus. you usually only took the bus to the office and back since it was cheaper than driving there everyday.

when you pull up at jihyo’s place, you have to sit in the car for a minute and breathe. why were you so nervous? you knew her parents and they were so sweet to you, but tonight the thought of sitting and having dinner with them felt nerve wracking. you open the door and step out, making your way to the door and ringing the doorbell. soonyoung opens the door and he lets out a small smile when he sees you, beckoning you to come inside. just then his mother comes into sight. she lights up when she sees you and immediately pulls you in for a hug. jihyo’s dad waves at you from the back as jihyo tackles you in a hug too and you give him a small wave.

“yn! look at you, it’s been so long since i saw you, you’re all grown up now”, she says and you laugh softly and smile. she ushers you inside and asks soonyoung to fetch you something to drink. so far the conversation seems to be going well, but if you only knew how awkward it was going to get when you all sat down for dinner.

soonyoung sits next to you. “so, how did you guys end up dating?”, soonyoung’s mom asks and you glance at soonyoung before you clear your throat and answer. “it just sort of ended up happening”, you say, giving his mom a small smile in an attempt to distract her from your half baked answers.

“how long have you liked each other then? has this been going on for long?”, soonyong’s mom asks, looking between you and soonyoung, who is close to breaking into a sweat because he had no idea what to say, so he just blabbers something at the same time you open your mouth to speak.

“one month”, he says in a rush. “two weeks”, you say and you both look at each other and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a look and soonyoung scrambles to save face.

“i mean to say that i liked yn for a while, so it was one sided until two weeks ago”, he says and jihyo lets out a small snort at his answer. soonyoung looks at you with that lopsided pout on his face and rubs the back of his neck, nervous, his eyes asking if he did okay. you only laugh softly and lightly nudge him with your elbow. “he’s funny, but yeah that’s the story”, you tell, playing along. “then what made you say yes to dating him?”, his mom asks and you panic again. “um—he was cute and eventually grew on me”, you say, sounding ridiculous and jihyo stifles a laugh and you give her a look. jihyo’s mom doesn’t say anything more, and the conversation diverts to what you have been doing and catching up and you couldn’t be more grateful. when dinner is done, you’re helping clear the table. that’s when soonyoung notices you and rushes over, saying he’s got it and takes the plates from you.

jihyo whisks you away to her room and you crash on her bed, the various memories of when you’d come over and the countless sleepovers you’d had during your college days come flooding back. “this room hasn’t changed a bit”, you say, sitting up and looking around. you both probably end up talking for a good 30 minutes when a realisation hits—the realisation that you were here for soonyoung and you’d been completely ignoring him. jihyo gets called downstairs and she says she’ll be back, leaving you alone. you sit on the bed, contemplating if you should head out too and find soonyoung when you notice a head peeking into jihyo’s room—soonyoung. when he sees that you’ve caught him, he straightens up and runs a hand through his hair, coming into view.

“soonyoung hey”, you say, realising you’d barely greeted him or talked to him this entire evening. “hi”, he says looking at you before speaking. “my mom was asking if you wanted some ice cream?”, he asks. “sure”, you say and soonyoung leads you downstairs. jihyo’s arguing about something with her mom and when her mom sees you, she ignores jihyo and hands soonyoung a tray with two bowls of ice cream.

“here, eat it in your room with yn”, his mom says and soonyoung blinks, glancing at you.

“i’m coming too!”, jihyo yells but her mom stops her. “stop it, leave soonyoung and yn be”, her mom says, ushering you both back up the stairs. jihyo mouths an ‘all the best’ to you and you give her a look. you both walk up the stairs and you’re standing in front of soonyoung’s room when he looks at you. “just…give me a minute, it’s a bit of a mess”, he says, stepping into the room quickly and you hear the shuffle of feet as he tries his best to tidy up the room quickly while you’re standing outside. he dumps whatever clothes were on his bed into the wardrobe and shuts it, straightening his bedsheet and fluffing up the pillows as much as he could. his eyes scan the room once more and once he deems it tidy enough he opens the door rather hurriedly, like he was scared that he’d made you wait for too long.

“you can come in now”, he says and you step inside. soonyoung’s room is so much like his personality. there are a bunch of old textbooks stacked up in a corner of his table. there’s a bluetooth speaker by the side and bunch of charging cables strewn next to it. there's a photo frame that has a small collage of pictures—soonyoung, jihyo and their parents and you smile softly at the sight of soonyoung grinning wide in the picture. your eyes glance down and there is a whole corner on the floor that is stacked with shoe boxes all stacked on top of each other, holding his sneaker collection. on the wall on the other side, there are a bunch of medals and certificates decorating his wall. you walk forward to take a closer look at them—they were all medals and certificates he’d won through participating in various dance competitions or events. you turn around and soonyoung’s holding out the bowl of ice cream for you and you take it. the ice cream’s already half melted but you don’t mind and soonyoung gestures for you to sit down on his bed. you take a seat on the edge of the bed while soonyoung pulls out the chair from the study table, taking a seat there. you eat a spoonful of the already melted ice cream and there’s an awkward silence that engulfs the both of you.

“that’s quite an impressive collection of medals and certificates”, you say finally, earning a look from soonyoung, who bursts into an almost shy smile. “thanks”, he says. “how’s it working at the studio?”, you ask and soonyoung’s face seems to light up at your question.

“it’s really good! it’s really fun to see people from all different walks of life come together because of their passion for dancing. we get so many different people, ones who just dance as a hobby, some who are passionate about it and do it on the side, some who join to rediscover their passion for dancing and other beginners who just want to take a dance class for the fun of it. i think dance is a wonderful thing and me being able to teach and do what i love for a living is so worth it to me”, he explains and you smile at the way he explains it with so much enthusiasm, with so much passion.

“that’s wonderful to hear”, you say and he smiles more. “you should drop by sometime”, he asks. “i’d love too”, you say.

“sorry my room’s kind of a mess”, he says, looking around and getting a little self conscious about it. “it’s fine, it’s not bad…it’s just you”, you say. “you think so?”, he asks and you nod again, earning another shy look from him.

and just then jihyo bursts into the room, opening the door and startling you both. “guys, stop making out, mom wants to know if you want more ice cream”, she says rather loudly and you get up, smacking her arm.

“shut up jihyo, oh my god”, you grumble out, getting embarrassed while she only laughs at your misery. “i hate you so much”, you repeat and you glance over at soonyoung who looks like he’s just seen a ghost, his face turing pale.

“jihyo why would you say that!”, soonyoung says standing up and crossing his arms across his chest in an attempt to look tough, but his sulking tone shines through. “you guys need to have a little fun, come on!”, jihyo says laughing.

“also babe, it’s getting late so i thought i’d come ask you if you wanted to stay back or head home”, she says, looking at you. you glance at the time on your watch, realising that it was indeed late and you should probably leave to reach home since you also had work tomorrow.

“i’ll leave, i have my car anyway so don’t worry”, you assure and you nod. you walk down with jihyo, soonyoung following behind you with the ice cream bowls in hand and he drops them off at the sink when you’re putting on your shoes by the door.

“aren’t you going to walk her out?”, soonyoung’s mom says from the kitchen and you hear her. you can see the mental picture of his mom shooing him towards the door to walk you to the car. soonyoung comes up into sight again and jihyo pushes him forward, telling him to drop you to the car.

“you don’t have to walk me, i’m fine”, you say but jihyo isn’t taking no for an answer. “come on yn, just let him”, she insists and that’s how you find soonyoung walking you towards your car, which was parked a little down from jihyo’s house. you glance at soonyoung, who’s walking with his hands stuffed into his pockets. the night breeze blows and catches in his hair, tousling it but he doesn’t seem to mind. his blonde silver hair seems to catch the moonlight and streetlight around, and under it, you notice how handsome it makes him look.

“sorry if this whole thing was weird for you”, you say after a moment, realising it must've not been easy for him to pretend, let alone know what to do since you recall him telling you that he's never dated before. “it wasn’t all that bad”, he says, looking at you and you stop walking, having reached your car.

“well, if anything comes up, i’ll text you”, you say and he nods. you get in your car, bid soonyoung goodbye and start your car, driving back home.

after the family dinner with you, soonyoung is determined to up his game and be a better fake boyfriend for you. so his search history looks a little like this:

how to be a good boyfriend

what does a boyfriend do

what do people do on dates

top ten date ideas

how to impress your girlfriend

how to hold your fake girlfriend’s hand

top ten pick up lines

soonyoung spends the entire night staying up and searching all of this, reading through various blogs, articles and people’s comments to determine which approach was the best and what really worked. he had no idea dating included so many things, let alone having it pretend on top of all of that. but he was going to tackle it, because he wanted to impress you and be a good fake boyfriend for you. it’s only two weeks later when soonyoung bumps into you again.

you’re at a cafe, your favorite one and since it's friday, you decide to drop by and grab a quick bite there, you had always loved the food here. soonyoung is walking down the road when he happens to look into the cafe and that’s when he spots you sitting inside. he stops in his tracks and looks at you, squinting his eyes and making sure that it was indeed really you before his legs seem to have a mind of their own and take him inside the cafe. he pushes the door open, stepping inside, and the aroma of coffee and baked goods welcome him. he looks at you from the corner, watching you type away something on your laptop that’s open on the table, a mug of hot green tea on the table. he hesitates for a moment, not sure if he should come and say hi or leave. but then you look up and your eyes land on him. he looks away immediately before looking back in your direction and makes his way towards you.

“hey”, he says once he’s close enough. “soonyoung hi”, you say, looking at him. just then the waiter comes by and drops off your sandwich and soonyoung stands awkwardly by the side.

“i’ll head out”, he says softly, like he was unsure if he was welcome to stay but you look at him. “you’re leaving already?”, you ask, to which he only blinks at you. you gesture for him to sit down and he takes a seat opposite you. “do you want anything, i’ll get it for you”, you ask and he shakes his head in refusal.

“oh no, i’m good”, he says. “coffee? tea? anything at all? it’s really no big deal”, you say but he says he’s fine again. you offer him the other half of your sandwich too, but in the end he only ends up munching on a few of the chips that were on the side.

“you’re cute when you’re shy”, you say after a moment and he lets out a shy smile.

“what do you do?”, he asks after a moment, leaving you confused for a second before it clicks that he’s asking you what you do for a living. “oh, i’m currently working as a project manager for an advertising agency”, you say and he nods, like he’s impressed. “that must be really hard”, he asks. “yeah, it can get pretty hectic”, you say before silence settles between the both of you again and you take a bite of your sandwich.

“so you teach everyday then? or does it work on shifts?”, you ask and again his eyes seem to light up at the mention of dance or you taking an interest in what he does.

“yeah mostly it’s five days a week but the timings can vary. it mostly depends on the crowd, and what i’m going to be teaching, but sometimes i get days off in between since we have other dance teachers on rotation”, he explains.

“that’s sounds really nice, god i wish i could get a day off in the middle of the week like that”, you say, already thinking of the workload that was waiting for you back home.

“you majored in dance right?”, you ask a second later and he nods. “yeah, a performance and choreography major”, he says and you nod your head, impressed. you finish eating the rest of your sandwich and you both walk out, hoshi offering to walk you to the bus stop.

when the new week rolls in and it’s monday, soonyoung finds himself thinking about you. he finds himself waiting for you near the bus stop, hoping he’d spot you so he walks by the cafe again. it’s silly really, how badly he wants to bump into you, to have an excuse to talk to you again. he could just text you, but it doesn’t feel the same. and on wednesday, he does manage to spot you, but this time he quite literally bumps into you. you both are turning around the corner and you’re in a rush when you bump right into him, your phone falling out of your hand and clattering to the floor.

“oh shit, i’m so sorry”, you say, a little frazzled, bending down to pick up your phone but he’s already got it. it’s only when he stands back up that you realise it’s soonyoung.

“soonyoung oh, hi”, you say and he seems to look relieved almost to see you, like he’d been waiting for this moment, his eyes lighting up when he realises it’s really you in front of him. “yn”, he says, saying your name so sweetly, like he’d been waiting for you for far too long as he blinks at you. he hands you your phone but not before glancing at it, making sure it wasn’t cracked or anything.

“sorry, i wasn’t looking where i was going”, you tell, apologizing. “heading somewhere?”, he asks, noticing how rushed you looked. “yeah, i have to meet a client so i’ll get going, see you around”, you say, giving him a tiny wave before walking ahead, leaving soonyoung behind. you hadn’t given him time to reply or say bye back to you and he just watches you walk away, whatever words he wanted to say dying on his lips. soonyoung stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes his way to the dance studio, a little bummed about not evening getting so say anything else to you besides the hi. he pushes the door open to the dance studio, waving at the receptionist and walking inside towards the staff rooms. he grabs his dance outfit from the locker and changes into it before walking into one of the dance practice rooms.

soonyoung turns on some music and does some light stretches, warming up his body for the dance session that was going to take place. soon, the room starts filling up with students and he greets them all one by one as they enter. soonyoung’s passion for dancing was immense, it was something like breathing to him, it came naturally. soonyoung was also great teacher, he was firm when needed but also patient and he was good at helping the students understand the movements easily, how to move their bodies and he always advocated about how taking care of yourself, a balanced diet and stretching was always required and a must. he’d often take a few extra minutes after class to help students who were particularly struggling or wanted extra help. the best part was the group dance showcases every week, showcasing everyone’s progress and dances, and he always found that exciting—to see his student’s progress and improvements always made him swell with pride. today’s dance session goes well and soonyoung is satisfied. it’s only when the class ends that three girls come up to soonyoung.

“do you have plans for dinner? you could join us”, one of the girls says. “yes! you always say no, you have to come tonight”, the other girl says, laughing softly, trying to convince him as they flirted with him.

“sorry, i have to get going”, he says, trying to sound nice as he smiles a little even though they try to convince him more and ask him out, but he declines and turns on his heel, making his way out the door, hoping he could catch you at the bus stop. but when he walks to the bus stop, soonyoung doesn’t spot you there, and he glances at the time, coming to the conclusion that he was a little late and had missed seeing you.

soonyoung doesn’t bump into you again until friday. he’s walking by, minding his own business, making his way to the bakery downtown. this place was known for their freshly baked goods, the ovens churning out fresh bread and other delectable goods almost every four hours, so he knew he’d always get his hands on something freshly made. this place was particularly famous for their salt bread and doughnuts. seungkwan had asked soonyoung to get some salt bread on the way back home to stock up for the week so that’s where soonyoung was heading. soonyoung can smell the aroma of the freshly baked bread down the road. when soonyoung walks in, there’s a crowd no doubt. his eyes flicker around, looking at what was on display and that’s when he spots you. you’re standing in line, waiting to order and soonyoung slowly but carefully makes his way towards you. when’s he’s close enough, he ends up nudging you slightly because of the crowd and you turn around, ready to give a piece of your mind to whoever bumped into you, when your gaze softens at the sight of soonyoung. he gives you a small smile when he sees you, his eyes forming little crescent moons as the smile reaches his eyes.

“yn hi!”, he says, like he’s so happy to see you and you smile back.

“hey hi again”, you say, realising you’d started to bump into him quite often.

“this place has the best salt bread, i’ve come to stock up on that”, he says and your face lights up. “they really do! and the doughnuts too, i need to indulge in some so i came to get some as an end of the week treat”, you explain.

it’s your turn to order and you go up to the counter, placing your order. “please give me two salted caramel doughnuts, two chocolate glazed ones and”, you stop, glancing at soonyoung.

“what are you getting?”, you ask. “oh, just some salt bread, two loaves”, he says.

“and two loaves of salt bread”, you say to the cashier who rings up your bill. you’re about to hand your card to the cashier when soonyoung stops you, saying he’ll pay, but you’re not having it. “soonyoung it’s really fine, consider it my treat”, you say, giving him an easy smile and handing over your card, but soonyoung thrusts his hand forward as well and the cashier stands blinking between the both of you.

“so who’s paying”, the guy asks, looking at the both of you. “mine, take mine joshua”, you say. having been a regular at the bakery, you’d gotten to know joshua who works there, so he listens and he takes your card. soonyoung stutters out a “no let me pay”, but it’s too late and joshua taps your card. you receive the goods from the counter two minutes later and soonyoung carries his bag with the two loaves of salt bread and the two chocolate doughnuts you bought for him and sneaked inside his bag. (he didn’t know).

“you really didn’t have to pay for my stuff yn”, he mutters out as you both walk to the side of the store. you’re about to respond to him when you hear someone call out your name

“yn! oh my god hi”, you hear someone call out and you turn around, watching your co-worker, mina, walk towards you. your eyes widen in surprise and you glance at soonyoung, who seems oblivious to the panic in your eyes.

“oh hi! didn’t think i’d run into you here”, you say, trying to sound calm. your co-worker, mina, seems to notice you glancing over at soonyoung and looks at you, waiting for an explanation.

“this is my friend,”, you say in a rush, panicking when you say it. soonyoung’s smile falters for a second, his eyebrows raised slightly, a flash of surprise in his expression, having gotten caught off guard by the ‘just a friend’ part. but he’s quick to mask his expression with a easy grin, but the way his lips were turned down, forming a little pout told a different story

“yep, just a friend,” soonyoung repeats, his tone light but with a hint of forced cheerfulness. he politely says hi to your friend and stands there while the two of you make conversation.

“great, i’ll catch up with you later yn, see you later”, mina says to soonyoung too before she waves and leaves.

soonyoung glances over at you.”just a friend? i thought we’re supposed to be pretending to be a couple”, he says, looking at you with that lopsided pout on his lips.

“i’m sorry, i panicked”, you tell, feeling a little bad but in hindsight, you really don’t know why you said that. soonyoung doesn’t say anything else as you both walk out of the store. “i’ll see you around then”, you say, when you both are outside.

“let me walk you to the bus stop”, he offers. “oh, it’s fine, it’s just a five minute walk”, you say. “but i want to”, he says lightly, so you let him.

“what else do you like from that bakery?”, soonyoung asks, glancing over at you, in a small attempt to get to know you better. “hm, i do love their red velvet cake and their dark chocolate chunk cookies”, you say and soonyoung makes a mental note to get those for you next time. after five minutes, you’ve reached the bus stop and he watches you get onto the bus and waves as it leaves.

it’s only when soonyoung gets home that he realises you’d sneaked in the chocolate doughnuts with the salt bread. “why did you get doughnuts? but i’m not complaining they’re always so good”, seungkwan says when he opens the bag that soonyoung had left on the counter.

“doughnuts? what do you mean? i didn’t buy doughnuts”, soonyoung says and seungkwan opens a box to reveal two chocolate glazed donuts inside them. “oh”, he says softly. soonyoung thinks it’s a mistake, that the cashier accidentally packed your doughnuts with his bread, so he snatches the box from seungkwan, telling him not to eat it and places it back in the bag before rushing to his room to grab his phone.

soonyoung [9:10 PM]: hey!

you [9:12 PM]: hi, all okay?

soonyoung [9:13 PM]: you left your chocolate doughnuts with me, it was in my bag.

you [9:13 PM]: oh! no they’re for you, enjoy!

soonyoung [9:14 PM]: oh

you [9:14 PM]: yes :)

soonyoung stares at his screen, trying to formulate a response but doesn't know what to say. so he just settles for saying a thank you and shouts out to seungkwan that he can have the doughnuts. “are the doughnuts good?”, soonyoung asks, when he walks out to see seungkwan stuffing his face with it.

“oh my god, it’s so good, i can’t believe i’ve never tried this one before! i’m glad you got it”, seungkwan says and soonyoung only seems to sigh in defeat before walking over to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water.

“why are you sulking?”, seungkwan asks, being able to read soonyoung’s emotions. “i’m not sulking”, he says but who was he kidding, he was. “it’s stupid”, soonyoung says but seungkwan only looks at him, waiting for him to explain.

“it’s just that, when me and yn were at the bakery earlier, she introduced me as her friend”, soonyoung says softly and seungkwan sucks in a dramatic breath. “WHAT?”, he says, his voice muffled through the big bite of the doughnut he had taken.

“that’s foul”, seungkwan says after a moment, which only seems to make soonyoung pout more. “i’m sure she didn’t mean it in a bad way”, soonyoung says, which only seems to fuel seungkwan’s thoughts.

“are you crazy? she introduced you as her friend and not boyfriend? that's so foul, you know what, give me her number, let me talk to her”, seungkwan says, all riled up for no reason. “woah that’s not needed man”, soonyoung says, walking over and grabbing the other doughnut, taking a bite out of it. “hm these are actually really good”, soonyoung says as he walks back to his room, the doughnut in his hand.

it’s a week later and soonyoung has been busy with dance lessons at the studio, and you have new projects on hand at work. finally, he has a day off and decides that it’s the right time to buy you back some chocolate doughnuts. he walks to the bakery with a stride and on a mission. along with the two chocolate glazed doughnuts, he gets you four dark chocolate chunk cookies and a slice of red velvet cake, remembering you mentioning that you liked those too. he pays at the counter and walks out of the store, excited to give these to you, only to realise he doesn’t know where you work, or exactly where your office is located.

he thinks that he should text you and ask, but then that’ll ruin the surprise. so he asks jihyo instead, who is a menace and it takes three pleases before jihyo laughs and says she’ll text him the location to your office. he nearly jumps when his phone pings with a text and he’s quick to put the location in maps. it shows that it’s a fifteen minute walk from the bakery, which wasn’t too bad, so he starts walking in the direction of your office, hoping you’d like the little surprise.

when soonyoung finally reaches your office, it’s a huge building and he looks up, counting eight floors, wondering which floor you work on. he walks inside before turning to the reception desk on the left side.

“hi, i’m looking for yn, she works here”, he says and the receptionist looks at soonyoung. “and you are?”, the lady asks, looking soonyoung up and down.

“oh! i’m her…boyfriend”, he says with a small smile. “i just got her some stuff to eat”, he adds and the receptionist nods, scribbling down something in a book.

“it’s lunch break now so she’ll probably be at the cafeteria, 4th floor”, the lady says and soonyoung thanks the lady and walks towards the elevator. he hums to himself as he walks into the elevator and when it opens, he’s greeted by your co-worker whom he saw the other day—mina. soonyoung walks into the elevator and presses the button to the fourth floor.

“hi, you’re yn’s friend right?”, mina says after a moment, seeming to recognise soonyoung. “yeah, her boyfriend actually”, he corrects and your friend lets out a small gasp in surprise. and just then the elevator pings, signaling that it has reached the fourth floor and the door slides open.

“i got her some things from the bakery”, he says, holding up the bag as he steps out of the elevator, mina following beside him. “that’s so sweet, oh my god”, she says. "you're really spoiling her, huh?", she adds with a more teasing tone as you both step out. just then two more of yn’s colleagues appear around the corner, all of them stopping short when they notice soonyoung standing there, looking a little lost and a lot out of place.

"what’s going on here?" one of them asks, raising an eyebrow at the scene before them. the way soonyoung was standing, clearly unsure of where to go makes him even more endearing. soonyoung looks around at the people that seemed to have gathered around him. “yn’s boyfriend is here”, mina sings songs and the rest of the girls all exclaim. “no way”, one of them says and the whole group goes silent for a split second, before they erupt into small gasps. "oh my god really?!" one of them asks with a small grin. "yn has a boyfriend?"

soonyoung lets out a nervous laugh, his face turning a little pink at the sudden attention he was getting and he scratches the back of his neck and asks, “uh, do you know where i can find yn?”.

“she’s probably in the break room getting coffee, let me call her”, mina says and just then yn seems to step out and mina calls out her name. “yn! over here!”, mina calls out to you and you turn your head around when you hear your name, your eyes spotting your coworkers all gathered in the corner near the elevator, and that’s when your eyes land on soonyoung. your eyes widen in surprise and you make your way towards them. it’s only when you’re close enough does mina speak.

“yn you didn’t tell us you had a boyfriend?”, they all tease. “you’ve been hiding him? i thought you were just casually hanging out with him? you said he was just a friend when i bumped into you guys last week”, mina asks as she looks at you.

you panic and scramble for an answer. “oh, we just started dating three days ago”, you blurt out. “uh, we just, you know, kept it low, i didn’t want to make a big deal out of it”, you add, trying to salvage the situation.

"he’s literally perfect for you!", they chimed in, making your cheeks flush. you shoot a quick glance at soonyoung, who looks just a flustered, but seems to mask it better than you. “he’s so cute, much better than all your exes if you ask me”, one of them adds and you just give them a small laugh.

“oh my god, babe you have to bring him to my wedding as your plus one at the end of the month!”, mina says and all the other girls all chime in with a big yes and you know you really can’t pull yourself out of this situation now. “yeah, okay sure, i’ll get him along”, you say, giving mina a small smile.

“we’ll give you two some alone time, there’s ten more minutes left for lunch break anyway”, mina says, giving you a mischievous look and you glare at her before all your co-workers walk to the break room and you grab soonyoung's arm, dragging him to the balcony on the other end of the room.

“soonyoung what are you doing here?”, you ask, confused, and a little frazzled at his sudden appearance at your workplace.

“i wanted to give you something back for paying for those breads last time, so i went to the bakery and got you all your favorite things from there”, he explains sweetly, holding out the bag. “i got you those dark chocolate chunk cookies, red velvet cake and those chocolate glazed doughnuts too”, he finishes, still waiting for you to take the bag from him. you reach your hand out and take the bag from him, opening it to take a peek inside, the smell of sugary goodness wafting in the air. “you didn’t have to”, you say, your tone softening at his gesture.

“but i wanted to”, he tells and you smile at his warmth in his tone and the sweetness of his gesture. “that’s sweet of you”, you tell softly and he grins proudly. “no worries”, he says, looking at you, content. “i thought you’d enjoy it during a hectic work week”, he chimes in and you nod. “i definitely will, thank you”, you say and your eyes dart around, looking to see if anyone was around, which soonyoung picks up on.

“i’m sorry if i showed up unannounced, i didn’t think i’d bump into your co-workers”, he says, thinking he’d done something wrong. “no, you’re all fine soonyoung, it just took me by surprise”, you say. “cool, um, i guess i’ll see you around then?”, he says, sounding a little unsure as he says it. “yeah, see you around”, you say and he smiles.

when soonyoung’s phone rings and he sees jihyo’s caller id, he has half a mind to ignore the call, but he doesn’t, knowing she’d just continue to call and pester him until he did pick up.

“what?”, soonyoung asks, only to be met with a scolding. “that’s how you talk to your sister?”, jihyo asks and soonyoung sighs. “i’m busy”, he mumbles out in a whine.

“i have two tickets for this movie that was released last week, but i can’t go anymore, so i’m giving it to you”, jihyo says and for a second, soonyoung thinks that this is some kind of trap. “you’re joking”, he says. “i’m serious! take them, i really can’t go”, jihyo says.

“okay, but what will i do with the other one?”, he asks. “then take yn with you idiot, she’s been wanting to see that movie anyway”, jihyo says and soonyoung seems to stand up straighter at the mention of your name.

“yn?”, he asks. “yes, yn, take her along”, jihyo says again like she’s already tired of talking to soonyoung. “i’ll send you the tickets, so go, i have to go now”, jihyo says and ends the call, hanging up before soonyoung can say anything more.

the thought of you seems to make soonyoung unintentionally smile and his phone pings with a text from jihyo with details about the movie and tickets. soonyoung opens the text and finds out that the movie was booked for saturday evening, which was in three days. soonyoung isn’t sure about it, isn’t sure if you would even want to watch the movie with him. so he sleeps on it, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he actually does want to go watch that movie with you. but the question is how he was going to ask you.

it’s already friday and soonyoung is starting to get restless. he can barely focus on anything, his thoughts racing in endless circles about one thing—you. his mind won’t stop replaying the thought of you and if he should ask you out to go to that movie with him, and it’s driving him crazy. the nervous energy bubbles up inside him until he can’t take it anymore, so in a desperate attempt to clear his head and figure out what the heck he was doing, he decides to hit the gym.

he pushes through the door, ready to work off some of his restless anxiety, but as soon as he steps inside, his eyes landed on a familiar face—lee chan, who was his school friend. chan smiles and waves at him when he spots soonyoung, but soonyoung only gives him a half-hearted wave of the hand.

confused, chan trudges forward to soonyoung. “everything okay?”, he asks and soonyoung sighs dramatically, his shoulder slumping. “i don’t think you’d be much of a help with this man”, he says, looking like a lost puppy. but chan’s face is full of determination as he steps closer, crossing his arms. “what’s going on?”, he asks.

soonyoung’s eyes dart around as he tries to get the words out without sounding like an idiot, but it’s no use. “how do you ask a girl out to the movies?” he blurts out, his voice full of uncertainty that it was almost painful.

chan blinks at him for a second, not expecting soonyoung to ask him something like that. chan scratches the back of his head, looking just as clueless as soonyoung. “um, i guess you just…ask her?”, he says, unsure.

soonyoung groans again, pulling a hand down his face. “ask her how?”

chan blinks again, looking around for some kind of answer. “I don’t know man, maybe text her? call her? i don’t know, just… ask?”

“it’s not that easy, chan,” soonyoung says, practically sinking into the bench that he had sat on. “why? does she not like watching movies or something?”, chan asks.

soonyoung buries his face in his hands, exasperated. “no! not like that—it’s just—ugh!” he lets out another sigh, quieter this time, and looks up at chan with eyes full of uncertainty. “i don’t know if she’d actually want to watch the movie with me”.

chan tilts his head, giving soonyoung a confused look. “you guys don’t do movie dates?”

soonyoung’s response is a helpless gesture of both his hands, as if he was trying to wrangle some logic from the air around him. “i… i don’t know! we haven’t really done anything like that before, and i—” he cuts himself off with a dramatic sigh. “this is so stupid, isn’t it?”

chan blinks at him, then his face softens with a quiet chuckle. “it’s not stupid man, you just gotta be honest with her and just ask her”, he encourages. chan gives him a small smile, patting him on the shoulder. “you’ll figure it out man, don’t stress, girls like that honesty thing trust me”, chan says.

chan then leaves since his workout is over and soonyoung is left alone with his thoughts. soonyoung contemplates how exactly he is going to ask you out to the movie without making a total fool of himself. he should just ask you right? it was such a simple thing really, but the thought of it felt too daunting for soonyoung.

after the gym session, soonyoung heads back home. he takes a hot water shower but he still can’t stop thinking about the movie, about you. maybe he should ask seungkwan? when he comes out of the shower, he throws on sweatpants and a loose shirt, walking into the living room to see seungkwan sprawled on the couch. he walks up to seungkwan and takes a seat on the other end of the couch.

“what is it this time?”, seungkwan asks, without even looking at soonyoung, making him scoff. “why do you always assume i did something”, soonyoung complains. “because you have that look”, seungkwan tells and soonyoung mumbles something under his breath and finally seungkwan looks up at him,

and all of a sudden, soonyoung feels like an idiot all over again. “how do you…you know…like…how to ask a girl out…to the movies”, soonyoung asks slowly, the words coming out unsure.

“man not this shit again”, seungkwan mutters, giving soonyoung a look “i’m starting to wonder how you even got a girlfriend at this point when you’re so clueless”, seungkwan says, bruising soonyoung’s ego.

“hey! i’m not that bad, this is just all…new”, he says, trying to salvage the situation but seungkwan was right, he was totally and utterly clueless.

“just tell me how to ask her to the movie”, soonyoung repeats, bringing the focus back on the situation. “and quick because the movie is tomorrow and i already have the tickets”, he adds. seungkwan gives him another serious look, asking soonyoung to come closer with a gesture of his hand.

“if you want to properly ask her out, you need to get a dove, write a message and send it to her house as a messenger”, seungkwan says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, but soonyoung doesn’t catch it. “but then wouldn’t that take too long?”, he asks.

“exactly you idiot, so you need to call or text her”, he nearly yells at soonyoung, exasperated.

“but should i say?”, he asks, that lopsided frown forming on his face. “ssk her if she wants to watch a movie with you, what else are you going to say?”, seungkwan asks, scoffing with annoyance.

“okay man, calm down”, soonyoung says, unlocking his phone and opening your contact. his fingers hover over the keyboard as he wracks his brain on what to ask. he gives seungkwan a glace, who looks like he’s ready to snatch soonyoung’s phone and ask you instead.

soonyoung [10:35 PM]: hey! i know this is last minute but do you wanna go watch a movie with me tomorrow evening? i have an extra ticket.

soonyoung hits send and throws his phone on the couch with a yelp, covering a hand over his mouth.

“i asked her," he says, his phone in the middle of the couch now. two minutes later his phone pings and soonyoung jumps. “is it her? what if she said no?”, soonyoung asks and seungkwan reaches for the phone to see who texted.

“it’s her”, seungkwan says. “really? what did she say?”, soonyoung asks, leaning closer.

“she said she doesn’t want to see the movie”, seungkwan lies and soonyoung looks like he’s about to burst into tears at any second. he snatches the phone from seungkwan and reads the reply you sent.

you [10:37 PM]: soonyoung hi! sure i don’t mind.

“SEUNGKWAN”, he yells, getting up in a huff and hurling one of the pillows at him. “i’m never asking you for help again”, soonyoung mutters out, walking back to his room. he closes the door and crashes onto his bed before he reads your text again, a small smile creeping up on his face.

so you did want to go to the movie with him.

he turns over and buries his face into the pillow and smiles wider before gathering his thoughts, typing out a quick response.

soonyoung [10:38PM]: okay! the movie is at 8pm so i’ll pick you by 7:15

you [10:38 PM]: cool okay!

when saturday evening rolls around, soonyoung is freaking out. it’s like a tornado hit his room with the way all the clothes are splayed out on his bed and floor. he barges into seungkwan’s room for the fourth time, asking him if his outfit was okay.

“is this okay?”, soonyoung asks, adjusting his top. “yeah it’s fine”, seungkwan says, not bothering to look, which only makes soonyoung groan out in annoyance. “chill out man, it’s just a movie, you look fine”, he says, finally looking at soonyoung. “okay okay”, soonyoung says, glancing at the time on his watch and realizing he had to leave now if he wanted to reach your place on time.

you on the other hand are a mess too and you're starting to wonder why you agreed to this, except you had a good reason why—you wanted to test soonyoung’s and your chemistry. if he was going to come to the wedding with you, it needed to look like you were both really dating, and not pretending. plus this seemed like a good opportunity to teach a few things to him about being a boyfriend since he didn’t have any prior experience.

you glance at the mirror, smoothing out the cream colored sweater that was tucked into the waistband of your high waisted jeans. it’s cozy and warm, perfect for the evening ahead. the look is casual yet sweet, just the right balance for a movie date. you slide on a pear of black ankle boot and you grab a small shoulder bag and sling it over your arm. you brush a hand through your hair, leaving your hair loose and letting it fall and frame your face naturally.

just then you hear the honk of a car outside–it must be soonyoung. in a rush grab your lip tint, stuffing it in your bag and walking out. you open the door just as soonyoung is about to knock on the door and he’s a little surprised with the way you open the door so quickly, nearly bumping into him.

“soonyoung, hi!”, you say in a rush of nerves for some reason. soonyoung’s wearing a loose, dark brown jacket over a simple black tee and jeans. his ash blonde silver hair is slightly tousled as it falls over his forehead, just enough to make it look like he’s run his hands through it a few times, giving him a messy, carefree look—it’s cute. his hair catches the light under your front door, softening his sharp features, but still making him look striking in a way.

soonyoung almost forgets to respond to you, distracted by how pretty you look. his eyes roam over you, lingering on you, taking in the way your hair falls loosely and frames your face just right, or the way you’d put on some makeup, something different than your usual office makeup, something bolder, but still pretty. his eyes flicker back up to yours, a hint of surprise in them, before he finally gives you a soft, almost distracted smile.

“h-hi”, he stutters out, clearing his throat, hoping he didn’t sound like a fool and wasn’t caught staring at you in awe. “are you ready?”, he asks after a second, and you nod. “yup, i’ll just grab the keys and lock up”, you say and walk back inside, grabbing the keys from the bowl and walking back out. you lock the door behind you and drop the keys in your bag.

soonyoung runs over to the car and you’re confused for a moment before you realise he’s opening the door for you. you give him a small smile and say a small thank you before you sit inside, and he closes the door. but how did soonyoung know all this? he had stayed up the entire night, googling silly things. every search felt like another step into the unknown. “what to do on a movie date,” he typed in, squinting as the search results loaded. his fingers hovered over the screen, unsure if it was a good idea to click on it before and if he overthinking this entire thing. in a panic, he clicks on the —“10 things you should NEVER do on a first date” article.

the more he googled, the more overwhelmed he became. “date ideas for people who have no idea what they’re doing,” he types instead, praying for something that might make him seem like less of a disaster. he didn’t want to screw this entire thing up. he had even watched a youtube tutorial titled “how to not be awkward on dates (for dummies), and read through countless articles like “how to be a good boyfriend,”. “how to impress your girlfriend”, “how to hold hands”. he was trying his best, but this was all just new, uncharted territory for him.

the drive to the theater is quiet and when he pulls up at a red light signal, soonyoung turns around to glance at you. you dig into your bag for the lip tint you had thrown in there and open it, hoping it still had some product left in it because it was on the verge of getting over. you open the cap and try to scrape out whatever product you could get on the wand and apply it on your lips, dabbing it with your finger to spread it out evenly. you hadn’t bought a new one because this one was out of stock and you hadn’t had the time to go to a store and look for similar shades. soonyoung watches you, wondering why you hadn’t just bought a new one. it’s only when the cars honk from behind that he snaps out of his daze from staring at you and drives ahead. once you reach the theater, you get out and you both walk inside. you stop just short of the entrance, prompting soonyoung to stop and turn around, looking at you a little confused.

"hey, soonyoung?," you say, your voice soft but purposeful. he walks over to you immediately, eyes wide with anticipation, clearly ready for whatever you’re about to say. “yeah?”, he asks.

you hesitate for a moment, then take a deep breath. “do you maybe want to try... holding hands?", you ask softly.

for a split second, soonyoung’s face freezes when he hears your words and his brows furrow slightly, like he didn’t quite catch what you said. he repeats it, a little too quickly, as though he’s making sure he heard you right. “hold hands?”

you smile, trying to ease the awkwardness. "yeah, like... we could practice doing some stuff today, you know? since you're coming with me to that wedding and all."

soonyoung blinks a couple times, still processing your words and his gaze flicks down to the ground, then back up at you, like he's trying to figure out if you're joking. "wait, you really meant it? you're really taking me to the wedding?"

you can’t help but laugh a little, amused by how surprised he sounds. "of course, i wouldn't leave you behind. plus, if i showed up without you, my friends would probably kill me”, you explain.

soonyoung relaxes a little, but there's still this wide-eyed, nervous energy around him. he clears his throat, trying to act cool, but it’s clear he’s a bit flustered. “i—uh—okay, so hold hands?”, he prompts again and you nod. “yeah, just for a bit, we can practice, it’s not a big deal”, you say, trying to sound reassuring.

soonyoung scratches the back of his neck nervously. "okay... we can try, i mean, we’re just practicing, right?", he asks as he looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of excitement and hesitation. you extend your hand slowly, watching as soonyoung does the same. his fingers tremble just a little, and he hesitates for a fraction of a second before his hand brushes against yours. he pulls his hand back almost immediately, like he was suddenly unsure. he looks at you again and you give him a small encouraging smile.

this time, when you offer your hand again, soonyoung hesitates just a little, his fingers hovering over yours as if he’s psyching himself up to reach out and take your hand. when he finally takes your hand, it’s tentative—like he's afraid he might break something. but then, after a deep breath, he laces his fingers with yours, and his hand feels warm, a little sweaty, but he’s holding your hand now.

you feel a soft chuckle bubble up from soonyoung. "whoa, this is actually kind of nice," he admits, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, a clear sign that he’s nervous but trying to hide it. you smile, "i think it’s nice too”, you say, smiling up at him.

for a moment, neither of you speaks, just standing there with your hands clasped together and soonyoung fidgets slightly, glancing down at your joined hands as if he was checking that it's real, and then back up at you. his face is flushed, a mix of shyness and excitement and something a little more earnest in his expression. he notices how small your hand looks in his, how his hand practically could engulf yours entirely, and he thinks that’s cute.

"so," he starts again, his voice soft, but holding a tone of determination. "we’re really doing this, huh? holding hands like a couple?", he asks as he looks at you.

you chuckle, the tension easing as he gets more comfortable. "yep, just a little practice before the wedding”, you confirm.

after that first tentative moment of holding hands, the two of you make your way into the theater and soonyoung seems to have shaken off his initial nerves. but every now and then his fingers give yours an almost unnoticeable squeeze, as if he’s checking to make sure it’s still real, that he is in fact holding your hand. you buy a bucket of popcorn and you both head inside the theater, finding your seats. soonyoung is nervous as he sits down and he wipes his slightly sweaty palms on the side of his jeans, before glancing over at you.

the smell of buttery popcorn fills the air as you reach into the bucket, grabbing a handful before turning your attention back to the screen. you glance at soonyoung, who is sitting beside you, his hand hovering hesitantly over the popcorn. he had barely eaten any since the movie started, and you could tell he was holding back.

"i'm not going to eat this entire bucket myself soonyoung," you say softly, nudging the popcorn towards him with a smile. "you can have some more”, you say and he nods, mumbling a quiet, "yeah, sure," before finally taking some more.

the movie starts, the screen illuminating both of your faces in the dim theater. at first, soonyoung is focused on the movie ahead, his gaze locked onto the action unfolding before him. but at some point, his attention wavers, and instead of the film, he finds himself watching you—the way your eyes light up whenever something funny happens, the way your brows furrowed in concentration during an intense scene. the soft glow of the screen made your features even more captivating, and he couldn't help but admire the way you reacted so naturally to every moment.

his fingers absentmindedly reach for more of the popcorn, just at the same time yours does, and the brief touch of your fingers against his sends a jolt of electricity through him, and he immediately retracts his hand, swallowing nervously. you turn your head slightly, glancing at him with a knowing smile, before pushing the bucket a little closer to him in silent reassurance.

when the movie is over and the credits roll out, you stretch lightly in your seat before looking over at him. "that was good," you say with a satisfied smile and soonyoung nods, though he had hardly paid attention to the second half of the film. you both step out into the cool night air. your stomach grumbles quietly because the popcorn you had eaten had been more of a snack than a meal, and now the real hunger was creeping in. you glance over at soonyoung. "i'm still kind of hungry, do you want to grab something to eat?", you ask.

"yeah, sure," he replies, perking up slightly. "there's this really good burger place not too far from here, i can drive us there”, he says.

when you arrive at the burger place, the scent of grilled patties and crispy fries fill the air as you both step inside. the restaurant has a casual, welcoming atmosphere, and you quickly place your orders before finding a booth to sit in. soonyoung sits across from you, his fingers fiddling with the napkins on the table, carefully arranging and then rearranging them as if it was the most important task in the world. there was a nervous energy about him, and you watched him for a moment before leaning forward slightly.

"you okay?" you ask, tilting your head lightly and his hands still for a second before he lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “yeah, just, uh…" he hesitates before looking up to meet your gaze, and then glancing away again. you smile softly, resting your chin on your hand. "you sure?”, you ask again and he finally lets go of the tissue in his hand. “i guess i'm just kind of nervous”, he admits.

"nervous?" you repeat, eyebrows raising slightly. "why?"

soonyoung hesitates, then meets your eyes again, this time holding your gaze a little longer. "i just don't want to mess this up”, he admits softly.

your heart does a small, unexpected flip at his words and a warmth spreads through you as you smile at him, a little softer this time. "soonyoung," you say, your voice gentle, "you don’t have to be nervous, you’re doing great!”, you assure and his lips part slightly in surprise before he breaks into a small grin, a mix of relief and happiness flashing across his face. and just like that, the nervous energy between you both shifts into something lighter—something warm.

the food arrives and the scent of freshly grilled burgers and crispy fries and buttery toasted buns fill the air as you and soonyoung sit across from each other in the booth. you are hungry, so without hesitation you pick up your burger and take a big bite. the flavors hit instantly and you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

soonyoung laughs softly at your reaction, taking a bite of his own burger. "good, right?" he asks, his words slightly muffled as he chews and you nod.

"amazing," you reply after swallowing, already reaching for a fry. "you were right, this place is really good”.

the two of you eat comfortably, occasionally exchanging small talk. the late night atmosphere in the diner feels warm, with the soft hum of conversation from other customers and the occasional clang of plates from the kitchen, the smell of fries and salt lingering in the air.

at one point, soonyoung glances up and notices something—just the tiniest smudge of sauce at the corner of your mouth. his lips part slightly, his fingers tightening around his burger as he thinks and hesitates, wondering what to do. he was hoping you’d notice it and take action yourself, but you were too busy licking salt off your fingers from the fries, completely unaware of it.

soonyoung could’ve told you, he could’ve pointed it out and let you wipe it away yourself because that would’ve been the normal thing to do. but instead, before he can stop himself, he is already moving and he reaches across the table, lifting his hand. his thumb grazes over the corner of your lips in the most soft motion. his touch is warm, almost featherlight and it catches you completely off guard. your breath hitches and your eyes flicker up to meet his, widening slightly,

soonyoung freezes midway, his brain catching up on what he had just done. his thumb still lingers on your skin, before he pulls his hand back quickly, looking down before he looks back up at you.

"uh—" he starts, clearing his throat, his ears burning red. "you, uh... had some sauce right there." he says as he points awkwardly to the same spot on his own mouth.

you blink quietly, still processing what he had done, the warmth of his touch lingering even after he had pulled away. "oh, thanks," you murmur and soonyoung lets out a nervous chuckle, looking down at his own food like it had suddenly become the most interesting thing right now. “yeah, uh, no problem”, he says, taking a fry and shoving it in his mouth in an attempt to recover from what he had just done.

you don’t say anything more, but it was like there was a shift in the air between the both of you—a quiet sort of electricity buzzing beneath the surface. soonyoung finally looks up, stealing another glance at you before he picks up his drink and chugs it down, hoping it’d ease his racing heart.

when soonyoung goes home, he looks defeated. he sighs as he plops down onto the couch and keeps recalling the moment where he wiped the sauce off your lips, feeling like such an idiot. he hadn’t screwed up things between you both, right?

you decide to meet soonyoung once more next week for a little more practice, and today’s meeting point was by the lake near the park. the reason you loved going there was to feed the ducks. you had made it a habit to go there at least once a week or twice a month if you were too busy, and today seemed like a good excuse to go there—with soonyoung too.

you decide to walk there from your place, since it was relatively close and decide to meet soonyoung at the park itself, texting him the location. you wear something simple, some blue jeans, a white crop top, a baby blue cardigan and a pair of sneakers—it was simple, yet comfortable. the sunlight filters through the trees, casting soft patterns of light and shadows onto the wooden walkway to the lake, the air smells faintly of greenery and a quiet breeze rustles the leaves of the trees.

soonyoung stands there, casually leaning against the black railing, waiting for you. his blonde hair gleams under the sunlight, slightly ruffled by the wind, falling over his forehead and eyes. he’s wearing a light gray denim jacket that’s oversized over a simple crisp and clean white t-shirt that peeks out. he’s also wearing grey denim shorts to match and it hangs jus right, stopping just below his knees. his look is complete with a pair of cream colored slip on shoes. he shifts slightly, one hand resting against the railing, the other hand loosely hanging by his side. his gaze is steady and soft, yet thoughtful, as though he’s lost in the moment. he can hear the rustle of the leaves, feel the warmth of the sun and the quiet hum of the world around him. it’s only when he glances to his left that he finally sees you and his eyes light up. he gives you a wave as you walk up to him and you give him a small smile.

“hey, you made it”, you say, the paper bag you bought along with some bread rustling in your hand. soonyoung’s looks curiously at the bag in your hand then looks at you.

“do you want to hold hands again? you know, for practice”, you ask, and soonyoung nods, before squeaking out a small yes. you hold your hand out and this time he takes it without much hesitation, intertwining his fingers in yours and he gives you a small grin.

“come on, they’re waiting, let’s go”, you say, not giving him much information and you start walking, leading soonyoung, who’s following beside you as you both walk together hand in hand.

“who’s waiting?”, he asks. “the ducks!”, you reply and he glances at you. “ducks?”, he repeats. “have you never fed the ducks here?”, you ask and he shakes his head, “i didn’t know you could feed them”, he says. “well, i’ll introduce you to them”, you say turning the corner and the lake is visible now, the ducks too.

you smile softly when you near the ducks, letting go of soonyoung’s hand as you crouch down near the lake shore. the ducks seem to recognize you immediately, their quacks echoing across the water as they paddle toward you, their little feet slap against the wet grass as they waddle up to the edge, and your smile widens at the sight.

“well, someone’s popular,” soonyoung teases, crouching down beside you as you pull out some bread crumbs from the paper bag you had brought along.

“hi, guys,” you say softly, tossing a piece of bread toward the closest duck. the rest of the flock scrambles forward, quacking in protest, and you can’t help but laugh. you hand soonyoung a handful of crumbs. “here, you can help me feed them”, you say. soonyoung he throws a piece of bread to a particularly round duck and you point at it. “that’s sprinkles,” you say, grinning.

soonyoung freezes mid toss and turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “wait, you’ve named them?”

“of course,” you reply, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. you gesture to another duck, slightly smaller but just as eager. “that’s biscuit”, you say and then you then point to three more ducks that have joined the crowd. “and over there are noodle, muffin, and bubbles”.

he stares at you, visibly baffled. “you’ve named all of them?”

“well, not all of them,” you admit with a shrug. “just the regulars”, you say.

soonyoung narrows his eyes, looking between the ducks. “how can you even tell them apart? they all look the same to me”, he says and you gasp softly in mock offense. “excuse me? they each have their own unique personalities!”, you say and he snorts, clearly unconvinced, but he plays along, tossing a crumb toward the closest duck. “okay, that’s… biscuit, right?”, he asks and you shake your head. “no, that’s sprinkles”, you correct.

“right, sprinkles,” he says, nodding like he’s taking this very seriously. he tosses another crumb, pointing to a different duck. “and that one is muffin?”.

“nope, that’s bubbles,” you say, giggling now. he lets out a dramatic sigh, throwing another small piece of bread. “this is impossible! they’re all the same color”, he says, looking defeated.

“you just need to pay attention,” you say. “like noodle—he’s the one with the slightly crooked feather on his tail, and muffin is always the one at the back, kind of shy”, you explain. soonyoung squints at the flock, clearly trying to identify the subtle differences you’ve pointed out. “okay, but how am i supposed to tell biscuit from sprinkles?”, he asks.

“well, sprinkles has more attitude,” you say with a grin, gesturing to the duck in question, who is currently quacking loudly and shoving the others out of the way to get to the crumbs. soonyoung laughs, tossing another piece of bread to it. “oh yeah, i see it now”, he says.

soonyoung tosses a crumb directly in front of sprinkles and the duck snatches it up with a quick peck and waddles closer. "hey, sprinkles has really got an appetite," soonyoung remarks, tossing another crumb and the duck waddles even closer. then, for reasons only soonyoung would understand, he suddenly cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a loud, dramatic "QUACK!".

you freeze, turning to him as you try not to laugh. you’re about to open your mouth but then all the ducks on the pond swivel their heads in unison, their beady eyes locking onto soonyoung like he just declared a fight on the ducks.

"uh-oh," he says, standing up slowly.

"soonyoung, what did you do?" you whisper, trying not to laugh as sprinkles seems to waddle closer to him.

"i was trying to communicate!" he hisses back, taking a step backward as more ducks emerge from the water, their webbed feet slapping on the grass.

"well, they’re communicating now" you say, barely holding back laughter.

one duck quacks loudly, as if rallying the troops, and suddenly the entire flock is waddling toward soonyoung, their little heads bobbing with determination as they flock towards soonyoung.

"oh no," he stammers, backing away faster and all you can do is double over with laughter as the ducks seem to crowd around soonyoung. you stand up and try to shoo away the ducks, trying to distract them with breadcrumbs, but they aren’t deterred. so soonyoung does the only thing he can think off—he grabs your hand and runs.

“soonyoung!”, you yelp out as he takes off, pulling you along with him and you run behind him, his hand interlocked with yours. you’re running, dodging stones and twigs, but then your leg gets caught on a stone and you lose your footing, and before you can process what’s happening, your balance topples and you’re falling.

“soonyoung!” you cry out, as you fall forward.

he reacts in an instant when he hears your voice and he whips around just in time to see you stumbling forward. without a second thought, he lunges toward you, arms outstretched, holding onto you and instead of hitting the ground, you land on him, the momentum knocking the both of you over. the world spins for a second, and when it steadies, you realize you’re sprawled on top of soonyoung, your hands pressed against his chest. his arms are wrapped around you, one hand cradling the back of your head to shield you and his face is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks.

“are you okay?” he asks softly, his voice full of concern. his wide, worried eyes searching yours, making your heart stutter.

you nod, suddenly hyper aware of how close you are. “yeah, i’m fine,” you mumble out, quickly pushing yourself up and sitting back. but the moment you put weight on your foot, a sharp pain shoots up your ankle and you let out a small gasp.

“what’s wrong?” soonyoung asks as he gets up immediately. “i think i sprained my ankle”, you say softly and his eyes dart to your ankle and back to your face, guilt etched into his expression. “i’m so sorry,” he says, his voice filled with regret. “this is my fault. i should’ve been more careful. i shouldn’t have—”

“soonyoung,” you interrupt, your voice soft despite the light pain. “it’s okay. it’s not your fault.”

“but it is,” he insists, shaking his head. “i shouldn’t have dragged you into this mess. i didn’t think—” “hey,” you say, placing your hand lightly on his arm. “it’s just a sprain. i’ll be fine”, you assure, but the lopsided pout on his face remains and he doesn’t look convinced. instead, he shifts closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “you could’ve really gotten hurt, shit, i don’t know what i’d do if something worse happened”, he says, but you give him another reassuring smile. “i’ll be fine, really”, you say. soonyoung helps you get up and guides you to a nearby bench, his arms steady around you as he holds you, but the guilt never leaves his face. he sets you down on the bench and looks at you like you’re made of glass, like if he just blinks, you might shatter.

“you can’t go home like this”, he says with a frown. “i’ll carry you home”, he declares after a moment and you blink at him. “wait what?”, you say but he’s already crouching down in front of you, patting his back.

“get on”, he says and you stare at him because he couldn't really be serious about this.

“soonyoung, no, that’s ridiculous,” you protest. “you can’t possibly carry me all the way home”, you say looking at him.

he turns his head to give you a look over his shoulder. “you’re not walking on that ankle, not even for a second”, he declares.

“but—” “no buts, now come on. you’re not going home like this and i refuse to let you limp the whole way”, he says with a pout. you sigh, knowing there’s no winning against him when he’s this determined. “fine, but don’t you dare drop me”, you finally say, giving in.

“pfft. please”, he scoffs. “i’ve been training for this moment my whole life”, he says and you roll your eyes because that was such a jihyo thing to say. they really were a pair of siblings. you carefully move forward, draping your arms over his shoulders and the second you do, he reaches back, hooking his arms under your legs and lifting you up effortlessly.

“whoa—okay,” you gasp as he stands up straight, securing his grip, adjusting his hold slightly so you’re comfortable. “okay now hold on tight”, he says and you do, wrapping your arms a little tighter around his shoulders as he starts walking. despite everything—the pain, the ridiculousness of the situation—you can’t help but smile lightly.

“you’re really that worried about me, huh?” you ask softly, resting your chin against his shoulder. soonyoung doesn’t answer right away, but when he does his voice is quieter than before. “of course i am. it’s you”, he says and your heart stumbles a little at his words.

“i just hate that you got hurt because of me” he continues. “if i had been paying more attention, then maybe i could’ve—”

“stop that,” you interrupt. “this isn’t your fault, soonyoung. you already did more than enough to make sure i didn’t hit the ground face first”, you say and he exhales slowly, his grip on your legs tightening just a bit. “still. i’d rather be the one getting hurt than you”.

the two of you continue down the sidewalk and his steps are careful and steady. despite your protests earlier, you find that being carried by soonyoung like this is… nice. it doesn’t feel weird or odd, but it feels right for some reason, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. soonyoung's grip on your legs is secure and his warmth seeps through his shirt into you. every so often you can feel the slight shift of his muscles as he adjusts his hold, making sure you’re comfortable. the steady rhythm of his breathing mixes with the distant hum of the evening air, and for a moment, it’s easy to forget about the dull throbbing in your ankle. you glance up and realize your house is just a few minutes away and guilt creeps in at the thought of him carrying you all this way. “are you sure you don’t need a break?” you ask hesitantly. “i think i can walk from here”, you add.

he doesn’t even slow down as he replies. “i’m good,” he says, as if carrying you for the past several blocks was nothing. but you don’t miss the way his shoulders subtly flex or the way he exhales just a little harder than before. you frown, guilt pressing harder against your chest.

“soonyoung,” you say softly. “i’ll just walk. it’s really fine. i don’t want to burden you”.

he scoffs, adjusting his grip on your legs as if to prove his point. “burden? are you serious?” he asks, glancing back at you with a look. “well yeah, aren’t you tired?”, you ask and he stops walking. then,with zero warning, he spins you around on his back, making you yelp and you tighten your hold around his shoulders, your legs wrapping around his sides out of instinct, your arms tightening around his neck.

“soonyoung!” you screech, your voice caught between shock and laughter. his grip is secure despite the sudden movement. “if i was tired, do you think i could i do that?” he challenges playfully and you huff, smacking his shoulder as he starts to walk again.

“what the hell? i’m telling jihyo about this”, you say and soonyoung freezes mid step.

“wait, what?”, he asks, his tone faltering and your smirk widens. got him. “oh, you heard me”, you say as he slowly starts walking again, but there’s a slight panic in his voice now. “you wouldn’t”, he tells.

“oh, you know,” you say innocently, tilting your head. “how would she feel knowing her little brother just threw me around like a sack of rice? or what would she say about how you almost dropped me in the middle of the street?”, you tell with a dramatic sigh.

“i did not throw you!” he exclaims, voice high-pitched. “and i definitely didn’t drop you!”, he defends as he starts walking again faster this time like he was on a mission to prove something. “you wouldn’t”, he says and you smirk, having fun teasing him.

“oh, i definitely would”, you say. “yn, you can’t be serious”, he asks.

“i am dead serious”, you say and he groans like his soul is physically leaving his body. “do you want me to die? because that’s what’s gonna happen if she finds out”, he says with a small whine. you can’t take it anymore and you burst out laughing, shaking slightly as you cling onto him. “oh my god, you’re so dramatic”, you say as you giggle and you lift your hand to ruffle his hair, your fingers slipping easily through the soft strands. “you’re such an idiot,” you say, your voice fond despite your words. he stiffens for half a second—so brief you almost don’t catch it—before he exhales sharply. he mumbles something, ducking his head slightly, but making no move to stop you.

“I’m just pulling your leg,” you say finally, your voice light and teasing. you’re still smiling as you drop your hand back to your side, and he hums in response, low and soft. he doesn’t say anything else, but the faint smile on his face remains. your house finally comes into view, and you’re suddenly hit with the realization that in just a few minutes, he’ll set you down and this whole thing—this stupid, sweet, ridiculous moment will just be a memory—and somehow you almost don’t want it to end.

soonyoung carries you up to the front steps, pausing in front of the building. “home sweet home,” he says and you blink, snapping back to reality. soonyoung carefully kneels so you can slide off his back, his hands lingering on your arm to make sure you’re steady. but the moment your foot touches the ground, a sharp sting shoots up your leg, and you wince.

soonyoung’s hand tightens on your arm as he turns around. “don’t put weight on it yet,” he says, his brows knitting together in concern. “are you okay?” , he asks and you sigh, shifting your weight to your other leg. “yeah, i guess it’s just sore”, you say and his frown deepens. “make sure to put some ice on it”, he says and you nod.

“i’ll be fine after some rest”, you say and soonyoung still looks worried. he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “again i’m so sorry”, he says.

“i swear if you apologize one more time, i’m really going to tell jihyo”, you threaten and he gives you a look. “okay okay”, he grumbles, looking at you before he takes a step back. “just remember to ice it”, he says again as he walks backwards and you nod, waving at him before you unlock your door and hobble inside. soonyoung texts you later that evening.

soonyoung [9:37 PM]: did you ice your leg???

you [9:38 PM]: oops, i will do that now.

soonyoung [9:40 PM]: yn 🤨 please ice it and rest your leg! (p.s please don’t tell jihyo)

the office is abuzz with talk and energy, since it was your co-worker’s wedding this weekend. “yn you’re bringing your boyfriend to the wedding right”, mina asks, nudging you lightly and you give her a knowing look.

“yes yes, i will”, you say and they all seem to cheer. “he’s so cute, what does he do by the way?”, one of them asks, and all of them seem to turn their attention to you, interested in your boyfriend, well fake boyfriend.

“he’s a dancer”, you say and they all gasp collectively, not expecting that answer. “that’s so cool!”, one of them says. “he works at a dance studio downtown”, you add, feeling a little proud.

“he’s so much better than jaehyun”, mina says and at the mention of jaehyun, the atmosphere shifts. it’s subtle—just a slight pause in conversation, a flicker of exchanged glances—but you can feel it. mina presses her lips together, like she’s debating whether to say more, before finally sighing.

“speaking of jaehyun…my fiancé invited him,” she says carefully. “apparently, they’re close business friends so…” mina trails off, watching you closely for your reaction. the thought of seeing jaehyun again makes your stomach flip and you gulp.

“it’s fine, i’m over him anyway”, you say, shrugging, trying to act like this piece of information didn’t really bother you. mina doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push it and one of the girls quickly changes the subject, plucking the invitation from mina’s hand.

“okay, but can we talk about the most important part of the wedding?” she asks dramatically and mina’s eyes light up. “the slow dance?”, she asks and the group bursts into exciting chatter and mina nods with a smile on her face. “it’s going to be a huge part of the reception! after the first dance, everyone joins in, so no one is getting out of it,” she says.

“that sounds so romantic,” one of the girls says, sighing dreamily. “it is,” mina agrees. “but you know what i’m most excited for?” she turns to you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “seeing yn’s boyfriend on the dance floor”, mina says and you look at her, eyes widening.

“oh my god yes, he’s literally a dancer so he’s gonna make everyone else look so amateur”, one of them says, and they all laugh. “wait, wait,” another friend chimes in, grinning at you. “you’re gonna slow dance with him, right?”

you open your mouth, ready to argue, but the group seems to gasp at the same time. “oh my god,” mina gasps. “what if he dips you? or does one of those fancy spins? yn you guys have to dance together, you have no choice”, mina declares and you internally groan, covering you face in embarrassment. “yes you guys have to dance!”, the others echo in and you can only hide your face even more. you had zero dancing skills so you were very likely to make an embarrassment out of yourself on the dance floor, and knowing mina, she was going to make you dance no matter what.

on your way home, you decide to take a detour and drop by the dance studio soonyoung works at. you were hoping he’d be there because you weren’t sure if he was working today or not. you manage to find it pretty easily and walk inside. you look around like you’re lost and you glance around at the place.

“can i help you?”, someone asks, walking towards you. “oh, i’m looking for soonyoung”, you say. “oh, did you have a class scheduled with him? i think he’s done for today”, they say, but you shake your head.

“oh no, i’m just here to see him, i’m his girlfriend”, you say, the words coming out naturally before you can catch yourself and they nod, telling you to follow them. you nod in thanks, your heart suddenly hammering in your chest as you walk down the quiet corridor. your footsteps echo slightly against the polished floor, and with each step, a new thought rushes through your mind. should i have said that? does it even matter? why am i nervous?

when you finally reach the last door, they let you know that he’s inside and you could go in before they turn around and walk back to the front. you hesitate as you stand in front of the door, your fingers hovering over the handle. but then you notice that it’s slightly ajar, and without thinking, you push it open just a fraction more. your eyes immediately land on soonyoung. he’s in the center of the room, his reflection mirrored back at you from all angles. he’s practicing something intricate, his footwork light and sharp and you pause, watching him for a moment. he’s completely focused and you take a slow, deep breath, steadying yourself before gently knocking on the door. the sound breaks through the room and soonyoung hears it immediately, his movements slowing but never fully stopping. "come in," he says, but he doesn’t glance up yet.

you step forward cautiously and close the door behind you. when soonyoung finally looks up, his eyes widen slightly in surprise as he looks at you from the reflection in the mirror. “yn?”, he says, his voice carrying a note of surprise as he turns to get a better look at you as you walk closer to him.

you shift awkwardly under his gaze, suddenly hyper aware of everything in the room. you clear your throat, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "uh, hey," you say, voice coming out a little breathy. “what are you doing here?”, he asks, a little confused but happy to see you. “i mean not that you can’t come here, i just didn’t expect to see you here”, he says, his fingers starting to fidget with the hem of his shirt nervously before he crosses his arms across his chest.

“i just i’d drop by, you’re always asking me to come visit”, you say softly, looking around the huge room, taking in the mirrored walls, the polished wooden floor, and the faint hum of music still lingering in the air. soonyoung stands near the wall, his posture relaxed yet impossibly striking. he’s wearing a white sleeveless tank top, the fabric clinging just enough to highlight his toned shoulders and chest. and with the way his arms are crossed against his chest, it only seems to highlight and show off the defined curve of his biceps and toned arms, which are on full display. a simple silver chain rests against his collarbone, catching the light and you gulp before you tear your gaze away.

“i wasn’t sure if you’d actually be here,” you add after a moment, trying to sound cool. “well, here i am”, soonyoung says, his voice smooth and teasing. when you glance back at him, he’s watching you with a raised brow, “ i didn’t expect you to catch me mid practice though”, he continues, pushing off the wall and taking a few slow steps toward you. “but i’m glad you came”, he says, his tone sweet.

his words are light, but there’s something in the way he looks at you—soft, warm, almost appreciative, that makes your stomach flutter. you clear your throat, willing yourself to focus on literally anything else, but your eyes betray you again, trailing down to his arms and the way his shoulders shift as he moves closer. the tank top he’s wearing does absolutely nothing to help your situation, and you silently curse him for looking this good.

“i guess i thought i’d surprise you,” you manage to say, your voice quieter now. “plus the wedding is this weekend, so i thought i’d just drop by”, you say as you fish into your bag for the invitation, handing it to soonyoung.

“can i ask you something?”, you ask after you give him a moment to go over the invitation and he looks up at you. “sure”, he says but you hesitate, the words dying on your tongue. “never mind, it’s stupid”, you say, brushing it off, but soonyoung doesn’t let you brush it off.

“what is it?”, he asks again and you stare at him for a second, your eyes darting to the side of the room before you speak.

"um...do you know…how to slow dance?", you ask softly and soonyoung tilts his head slightly before he nods. "yeah i do, why?" he asks curiously.

you cross your arm over your chest. "you know mina’s wedding? the one we’re going to, apparently slow dancing is part of it, and since we’re fake dating, people are gonna expect us to dance together. i just don’t wanna make a fool of myself if we actually end up dancing”, you try to explain and you watch as soonyoung puts down the invitation on the floor near his bottle before he stands back up.

“so you want me to teach you?", he asks and you nod shyly as heat rises to your cheeks. "only if you actually know how," you shoot back, looking at him. soonyoung lets out a mock offended gasp, pressing a hand to his chest. "excuse me? i’m a dancer, so of course i know how to slow dance”, he says and his eyes hold a little amusement in them as he takes a small step closer.

“i can teach you”, he offers and you feel so shy all of a sudden. you shrug, “if you’re willing to then i guess fine”, you say and he laughs softly, his voice dipping lower as he extends a hand toward you. he pauses just a fraction of a second before speaking again. “can i?”, he asks, holding his hand out, as if giving you space to make a decision. this was the same boy who was nervous about holding your hand for the first time and now he is asking you if he could hold yours.

“i promise i won’t step on your toes”, he says, to lighten the mood, but there’s something almost vulnerable about the question, the way he’s careful, like he’s waiting for your permission to do more than just teach you how to move. you shrug your bag off your shoulder and put it to the side. then you reach out for soonyoung’s hand, your fingers curling around his fingers. the air around you feels charged with something subtle and his smile deepens slightly. there’s a glint of reassurance in his eyes, in the look he gives you that makes your heart stir.

your breath stutters as soonyoung pulls you in, his fingers warm and steady around yours. he doesn’t hesitate, like this is the most natural thing in the world. "okay," he murmurs, his voice softer now, melting into something calmer, something almost intimate. "let’s start with the basics”, soonyoung says again, his voice turning quieter. he gently tugs you forward, positioning your feet. “for a basic slow dance, you want to keep close, but not too close, because you don’t want to crowd your partner’s space,” he explains.

you swallow, suddenly hyper aware of everything—his hand in yours, the slight distance between your bodies, the way his gaze flickers down to meet yours. and suddenly you’re not sure if you’re more nervous about the dance, or the fact that soonyoung is so close to you. you try to take a small step back, in an attempt to create some distance between you both but he gently tugs you back in. “i’m not going to bite”, he jokes, looking at you, probably sensing your nervous energy and you let out a small nervous laugh. “okay okay”, you say and watch as soonyoung shifts his other hand, reaching out but stopping mid air.

“can i?”, he asks again and you nod before soonyoung shifts his hold, guiding your hand up to rest lightly on his shoulder while his other hand settles just above your waist. “first we’ll start with the basic steps”, he says, his voice quiet but firm. “left foot forward, like this”, he says and demonstrates, stepping forward with his left foot. you mimic the motion, lifting your left foot and bringing it forward just as he did and soonyoung watches you intently, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, but there’s no judgment, only quiet encouragement. he takes a small step backward, gently pulling you along with him.

“perfect,” he says, his voice smooth and soft, a proud smile curling on his lips. “now, bring your right foot to meet it, just like that and step together. but take it nice and easy, there’s no rush”, he guides. his touch is light, hovering near your waist to ensure you’re in position. “feel the weight shift between your feet as you move” he continues, his voice gentle. “it’s about connecting with the rhythm, letting your body move as one”, he instructs.

you try to focus on matching his steps, but your mind is a little too occupied with the fact that his hand is resting on your waist and you can feel the warmth of his hand seeping through the fabric of your blouse. you fumble on the next step, accidentally stepping on his toes. "shit i’m sorry”, you say, glancing up at him but he doesn't seem to mind. "relax," he says, giving you a small smile, like he expected this.

"you’re thinking too much”, he adds and you scowl at him. “easy for you to say since you’re the expert here”, you counter and his smile only seems to deepen at your words.

you restart the movements and you step out with your right foot this time. soonyoung mirrors you, guiding you slowly through the motion. his hand rests lightly against your lower back, adjusting your posture, his touch both firm and reassuring. “good, now we’ll step back. first left foot and then the right foot to meet it”, he says and soonyoung’s hand never leaves your back, always guiding you with gentle pressure as you step and move together.

“you want to move your body with your feet, don’t just focus on your feet—your body needs to follow too. it’s about fluidity, like we’re moving together as one”, he says, instructing you throughout. you think it’s kind of hot how much knowledge he has about this, especially with the way he was teaching you. you move through the sequence again, a little more fluid this time, the steps coming more naturally. soonyong notices the shift, his eyes lighting up. “there you go, you’re getting it”, he says with a smile.

for the next few minutes, you both move in sync, each step a little smoother, a little more confident. soonyoung’s hands are always gentle on your body, but they’re never hesitant as he guides you through each movement with a patience that makes you feel like nothing else matters in this moment. as you both continue to move, the music in the background fades into a soft hum, and the only sound is the rhythm of your movements, the gentle pull of his hands, and the careful way in which he holds you.

"okay, now just follow my lead, do you trust me?”, he asks, breaking the silence and you hesitate for half a second before you nod, not sure what he meant.

"good," he says, and then without warning, he starts moving again, this time but slightly faster. you gasp, nearly tripping over your own feet, but his hold tightens just enough to steady you.

"soonyoung!”, you say and he laughs. "you said you trusted me," he says, his tone way too smug. "well i take it back," you grumble out, but you follow his steps anyway, trying your best to match his pace. and to your surprise, after a few beats, it actually starts to feel easier, almost natural. the push and pull of movement, the way his steps guide yours without hesitation. he’s a natural at this and eventually your body starts to just follow.

soonyoung’s smile widens as he pulls you in a little closer, his fingers gently curling around yours, guiding you into another step. the moment is easy, light, almost playful, but there’s still that underlying warmth between you both. “see?” he murmurs again, his voice lower now, closer to your ear. “you’re doing fine. i knew you had it in you”, he says, his hand lightly resting on your waist as his thumb traces small circles on your back and you can’t help but feel a small shiver run through your spine at the action. his gaze is so soft, so assured as you glance up at him and he tilts his head, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“do you want me to dip you?”, he asks and your eyes widen in horror. “no, thank you”, you say quickly, giving him a look and he feigns mock offense. he raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “what? you don’t trust me?” he asks, his voice teasing and you shoot him a look. “i don’t want you to drop me”, you say and he chuckles, his hand still firm on your waist, but the sound of his laughter is deep and warm.

“you really don’t have faith in me huh?”, he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief, but there’s a softness in them too. “yup, zero faith in you, considering you almost dropped me on the road when you carried me on your back that day”, you tease and he rolls his eyes. “i mean, i’m not exactly the most graceful person”, you add after a moment and he hums in response. he doesn’t push you or he doesn’t try to convince you, but his gaze holds a quiet promise.

“but i’ve got you, alright?”, he says after a moment. “i promise that if i dip you, i won’t drop you, so you’re in safe hands”, he says with an encouraging smile and you can’t help but feel a flutter in your chest at his words, the way he says it with such confidence, with such certainty.

“i appreciate the offer, but i think i’ll stick to just the basics for now”, you say and he nods. “alright, alright, we’ll stick to the basics,” he says, still grinning, but there’s a softness to his smile now. “but just so you know, i could dip you and make it look effortless”, he adds and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. there’s an undeniable warmth that spreads through you at the thought of him being so sure of himself, of you.

you shrug, pretending to be unimpressed, but the flush creeping up your neck betrays you. “i’m sure you could,” you say, still a little unsure, but more than willing to believe in him now. “maybe one day”, you say and soonyoung’s smile softens at your words. he nods with a kind of understanding that makes you feel like he’s not just teaching you to dance, but he’s teaching you how to trust him. “whenever you’re ready,” he says quietly, his voice sincere. “there’s no rush, we’ll get there when we get there”, he says quietly.

you don’t even realize how close the two of you have gotten. his hand is still warm against your waist, his fingers lightly pressing against your lower back, like he’s making sure you don’t pull away too soon. his breath fans against your cheek, and when you glance up, he’s already looking at you. your heart starts to race, but it’s not from nerves anymore —it's from something else entirely, something unfamiliar and new. your breath hitches in your throat. the intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip. his gaze is soft, but there’s also something deeper in his look, like he’s seeing you in a way he hasn’t seen you before and your eyes glance down at his lips for a split second before you look away.

and then the moment comes crashing down on you all at once—he warmth of his hand, the pressure of his hold on your waist, the slow rise and fall of his breath against your cheek, the way his fingers press into your lower back, grounding you, holding you there close, too close, it’s suddenly all too much. your heart is racing and you suddenly feel hyper aware of every single point of contact between you both, of the way his grip is steady, sure, like he doesn’t want to let go just yet. you stop moving and soonyoung does too, his body stilling the moment he feels you freeze. his grip on you lingers for a second, his fingers squeezing softly against your waist like he’s waiting for you to say something.

“i should go,” you blurt out, the words tumbling from your lips faster than you can process them. your voice is quieter than you mean for it to be, unsteady in a way that makes your own chest tighten. “it’s…it’s late”, you say. soonyoung doesn’t respond right away and his grip on you doesn’t tighten, but it doesn’t loosen either, he just holds you there for a beat longer, like he’s hesitating, like he’s not quite ready to break the moment. his fingers flex slightly, almost like he’s trying to memorize the feeling before he has to let it go. then, slowly—finally—his hands slip away, falling to his sides.

“oh.” his voice comes out, softer now, quieter than before and you nod too quickly, taking a step back, then another. “thanks for, um, for teaching me”, you say, swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry.

soonyoung watches you, his eyes unreadable for a moment. there’s something in his expression—something hesitant, like he wants to say something else, do something, but instead, he just offers you a small, lopsided smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“anytime,” he murmurs out, but there’s something else under his tone, something you can’t quite name. “i can drop you home”, he offers but you shake your head. “it’s fine, i got my car today”, you say and you give him one last wave before you turn around and walk out the door. you don’t turn around.

when soonyoung get’s home, it’s late and the apartment is quiet. he tosses his keys onto the counter, shrugs off his jacket, and kicks off his shoes and he walks into his room. he has a quick shower and crashes into bed. normally, this is the part of the night where he falls asleep, exhausted from the day, but tonight sleep feels impossible, because all he can think about is you.

soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as he lays on bed. his body is heavy with exhaustion, but his mind refuses to slow down. his fingers still remember the warmth of your waist, the way you fit so perfectly against him, and how natural it felt to hold you close. he groans, dragging a hand down his face.

this isn’t normal, he’s not normal right now. every time he closes his eyes, he sees you—sees the way your brows furrowed when you were concentrating on getting the steps right, or the way you bit your lip when you got nervous, or the way you fit so perfectly against him like you were meant to be there.

soonyoung turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling, frustration bubbling up in his chest. he’s never been good at reading between the lines, but this felt like something. he tries to close his eyes, willing himself to sleep before groaning into the air. it’s ridiculous really, how much this is getting to him. he’s never had trouble sleeping before. and maybe, just maybe, he’s overthinking it. maybe you really did just want to go home because it was late and maybe he’s reading too much into the way your eyes flickered to his lips for that split second before you looked away. but the ache in his chest tells him otherwise.

soonyoung sighs again, flipping onto his stomach and burying his face into the pillow. this is so stupid. soonyoung doesn’t do this. he doesn’t lie awake at night thinking about slow dances and fleeting touches and what if’s, and yet, here he is. soonyoung’s chest feels tight, but not in a way that hurts. it’s just a feeling that’s… there. a strange, persistent weight that he can’t seem to shake off no matter how many times he tries to convince himself that he’s overthinking it. he’s never felt this way before, never been this restless, this frustrated over something so simple.

but soonyoung does know this— the moment he held you in his arms, something shifted. he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t even know how to describe it, but he felt it. something about you makes everything feel different and it makes his heart race for no reason, makes his stomach twist with something unfamiliar.

sleep doesn’t come easy for soonyoung that night because every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is you.

that entire week is like a blur to you. you don’t contact soonyoung again, trying to occupy yourself in your work so that you don’t have to think about him. but you do, and everytime you think about him you think about the way his hand felt against you, the warmth in his touch and gaze and your heart does a little flip and you’re convinced that something is wrong with you. it’s saturday evening now and the wedding is tomorrow evening, so you couldn't really avoid soonyoung any longer. you decide to text him, just to remind him that the wedding is happening tomorrow in case he had forgotten.

you [8:37 PM]: hey! just reminding you that the wedding is tomorrow evening.

soonyoung nearly jumps from his seat when he sees your notification, before he regains his composure and clears his throat. he’s quick to type out a response.

soonyoung [8:40 PM]: yup 🫡

you [8:42 PM]: we’ll take my car so come to my place.

soonyoung [8:42 PM]: okay!

the next evening, your room is a mess, again. you finally decide on an outfit for the evening—a satin floor length dress in a soft, baby blue color. the dress is strapless, with a perfectly fitted bodice that cinches at the waist, hugging you perfectly in all the right places. the top of the dress has a subtle sweetheart neckline, offering a soft, feminine touch while maintaining an air of refinement, making it a perfect dress to wear to a wedding. there’s a small slit that runs along the side of the dress and it stops just above your knee. the hem of the dress trails just slightly on the floor. you turned toward the mirror, studying your reflection once more, running a hand through your hair. the soft waves cascade down your back and your fingers gently comb through it, giving them a little more volume and a little more definition. that’s when your doorbell rings. you freeze for a moment, a flutter of excitement rising in your chest. he’s here—soonyoung’s here.

you step toward the door, your heels clicking lightly against the floor with each step and you pause just before the door, taking another breath to steady yourself. you open it and soonyong stands in front of you, looking like he just stepped out of a dream himself. but you don’t give him time to talk, ushering him inside, saying you were almost ready and you walk back inside. he follows you and closes the door behind him before he calls out for you.

you turn around and look at him and he looks nervous for some reason. he digs into his jacket pocket and removes something—a brand new bottle of lip tint and another bottle of liquid lipstick. “i remembered how yours was over so i thought these might suit you”, he says shyly as he hands it to you. you smile at his gesture and take them both. the shades he had picked were really gorgeous and you immediately open the lipstick. soonyoung is quick to open his phone and turn on the front camera, letting you use it as a mirror, and you give him a small grateful smile as you apply the lipstick. you open the tube and apply the lipstick, using his phone a a mirror. soonyoung’s gaze lingers on your, and on your lips as he watches you apply the lipstick and his breath catches for a moment as his eyes wander over your body, taking in the sight of you, the way your lips pucker ever so lightly as you apply the lipstick and he bites his lip softly. he shakes away any irrational thoughts and clears his throat.

“what do you think?”, you ask and he nods, like he’s happy with how it looks on you. “it looks great, it suits you really well”, he says, proud of his shade picking skills and you nod. “you’re right, i really love this shade”, you say and then you say something about getting your phone from the other room and go fetch it. it’s only when you step out of the room and glance at soonyoung that you take him in fully.

he is standing by your photo frames that are on the wall, looking at them with an inquisitive expression. he is wearing a sleek black suit that fits him perfectly. it clings perfectly to his frame and you can tell it’s been tailored with precision as it highlights the broad line of his shoulders and tapers down in clean, crisp angles. his black shirt is sleek and is a perfect match for the suit, its matte fabric contrasting the rich, glossy finish of his jacket. the silver chain he always wears is draped around his neck. his blonde hair, which is a striking shade of silver, falls in soft, tousled layers over his forehead and eyes, framing his face with a touch of wildness that contrasts his otherwise immaculate appearance. the longer strands at the back brush the collar of his jacket and his hair seems to be like a halo against the blackness of his attire.

you realise you’ve been staring too long and you shake your head, walking ahead, your heels clacking against the floor as you make your way towards soonyoung. and it’s only when you’re close by that you see the subtle makeup he’s done too. his eyes are lined softly and the faint smudge of kohl only adds to the depth to his gaze, making his already piercing stare seem impossibly intense. there’s a soft dusting of highlighter kissing the high points of his face—his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, giving his skin an ethereal glow. his lips are faintly tinted, carrying a natural flush that softens the sharpness of his features. you find yourself again lost in him until he clears his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“um, we should leave right”, you say, grabbing your handbag and stuffing your phone inside. you grab the car keys from the bowl and walk towards the door, signalling for soonyoung to head out so you could lock up. you lock the door and you both walk down towards your car when soonyoung walks over to the driver’s side. “let me drive tonight”, he says, holding out his hand for the keys.

“it’s okay, i can drive”, you say but he insists. “please, i want to, i don’t want your feet to hurt by driving in heels”, he says and you look down at your feet before glancing back up because he did have a point.

“okay then”, you say, handing him the keys, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you drop the keys in his hand. you walk over to the passenger side, opening it and sitting down. soonyoung gets into the driver's side and he glances over at you, waiting for a moment as he looks at you, but you’re too busy digging for something in your bag to realise. so soonyong takes action and he leans forward, leaning towards you. you turn your head, confused, before you see his hand reaching out for the seatbelt and for a moment everything seems to slow down.before you can react, he's slowly pulling it across you, his arm brushing against your side as he secures the strap. the sudden closeness is unexpected, and your breath catches in your throat. he’s close and his eyes flicker up to yours as he buckles the seatbelt, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. "gotta be safe," he says, his voice warm but light, as if the moment was as ordinary as any other.

you blink, the sudden closeness making your cheeks flush. "right," you mutter out and the air between you both seems to crackle with something unspoken, something that wasn’t there before. soonyoung leans back into the seat, his eyes briefly meeting yours again before he turns the key in the ignition. the soft hum of the car engine fills the silence. the car pulls out of the driveway and soonyoung drives smoothly. there’s a subtle tension in the air between you both, but neither of you address it. soonyoung’s hands are steady on the wheel, his posture casual, but every so often, you catch him glancing at you, as if he’s trying to gauge your reaction, trying to decipher what you might be thinking.

as the car rolls up to the wedding venue, you’re pulled away from your thoughts by the sight of the grand building in front of you. the lights are bright, illuminating the entrance where guests are already gathering. soonyoung parks the car with a smooth turn, his hands steady on the wheel and you both glance at each other at the same time.

“so...” soonyoung begins, glancing over at you, but his words trail off as he looks back at the venue. his hands stay on the wheel and he shifts in his seat. the reality of the night is here. you’re about to pretend to be a couple in front of all these people. a feeling of unease stirs in your stomach, but before you can overthink it, soonyoung speaks.

“ready?” he asks, his voice light. you nod, though there’s a small flutter of nerves that you can’t seem to quite shake off. “let’s do this”, you say and you both step out of the car, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you approach the entrance. he glances over at you again and for a moment and there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. you both walk toward the entrance, but soonyoung’s not sure what to do. his movements are slow, and he glances at you, his eyes searching for a sign—some kind of cue. should he offer his arm? should you take the lead? he almost seems out of place and you can’t help but smile at how genuine his confusion is. you both stop a few steps from the entrance, and he looks at you again, his hands shifting nervously at his sides.

“you know we’re supposed to look like a couple, right?”, you say, giving him a light teasing look. soonyoung blinks at you. “right, of course,” he says, but his voice still carries that light tone of uncertainty and suddenly, he’s nervous. there’s a moment of silence before you take a small step closer to him. you look at his hand and then back up at him. “maybe we could link arms?”, you ask and soonyoung pauses for just a moment, the question lingering in the air. his eyes flicker toward your hand, and without thinking, he offers it to you, his palm open and waiting.

there’s something so endearing about how awkward he seems, how genuinely unsure he is, despite being so confident in other areas. with a reassuring smile, you reach out and take his hand, your fingers brushing over his in a soft touch before you link your arm with his. “perfect,” you say. “now let’s go in”.

as you and soonyoung step into the venue, the soft murmur of voices fills the air, the clinking of glasses and gentle laughter of people bouncing off the walls. you walk side by side with soonyoung and the natural warmth of his hand in yours is comforting in a way. the two of you navigate through the crowd, occasionally stopping to exchange pleasantries with acquaintances you knew while soonyoung stands beside you, offering them friendly smiles. after a while the whole charade is a little more seamless now, the act of being a couple not feeling so foreign anymore. as you reach the main area where the newlyweds are standing, a few of your friends spot you from across the room.

“yn! over here”, one of them calls out and mina spots you too, smiling when she sees you. you walk towards them with a smile and you let go of soonyoung’s hand as you envelope mina in a hug, congratulating her. all your friends seem to coo over soonyoung, who offers them friendly smiles, and he congratulates mina and the groom too.

you decide to go grab a drink and ask soonyoung if he wants one too, but he declines. you walk over to the bar counter and reach out for a glass of champagne when you hear someone call out your name. you turn around and your stomach drops at the sight of jaehyun—your ex.

“yn, hey”, he says, walking up to you and all you want to do is run away, but you don’t. “jaehyun, hi”, you say with a neutral tone. “it’s nice to see you”, he says after a moment and you only nod, because you clearly don’t reciprocate the same feeling.

“are you here alone?”, jaehyun asks. “no, i’m here with my boyfriend”, you say as you glance over at soonyoung, who’s watching the both of you intently. you give him a small wave and soonyoung makes his way towards you. your hand instinctively wraps around his, and jaehyun glances down at where your hand is linked around soonyoung’s before he looks back up at you.

“this is my boyfriend, soonyoung”, you say. “this is jaehyun…a friend”, you say, leaving out the ex part because soonyoung didn’t need to know that right now.

you head back to the hall and the first dance commences between the bride and groom. you sit and watch with the others. mina and her husband take the center stage and dance and it’s so sweet. you smile as you look at mina and take a picture of them too, one for the books. then it ends and you can see mina calling everyone else to join. the soft melody of a love song drifts through the reception hall, wrapping around the slow moving couples already on the dance floor. you’re sitting at the edge of your seat, your fingers toying with the stem of your champagne glass, unsure if you wanted to join. your mind is busy thinking about jaehyun, and somehow, the sight of him seems to irritate you more than you thought. just at that moment, soonyoung’s shadow falls over you. “dance with me?”, he asks and you look up to see him standing in front of you. his one hand is outstretched, the other tucked casually in his pocket. his expression is easy and there’s a certain warmth in his eyes with the way he looks at you.

“i’m not sure”, you say, trailing off, but then you glance up and see mina calling you over with a hopeful expression. she mouths a ‘please’ and you can’t seem to say no to that. “okay fine, just five minutes though”, you say standing up, puting down the glass of champagne and taking soonyoung’s hand. he holds your hand, his fingers curling around yours—warm, steady and reassuring. he gently leads you onto the dance floor and then his other hand comes up to rest on your waist, while the other holds your hand in his. you move your hands to rest on his shoulders as soonyoung slowly moves. but then you spot jaehyun at the side, looking at you and there’s something in the way he looks at you that sends your stomach twisting. you glance away, stiffening and you don’t even realise that you’ve stopped moving.

your muscles tense, and suddenly, you’re not really dancing anymore. and then you’re moving, but too fast, too rigid, completely out of rhythm with soonyoung. you step out with the wrong foot when you’re supposed to sway, rush when you’re supposed to follow and all your movements are erratic and clumsy, a stark contrast to the easy flow of the song.

soonyoung notices this instantly and his hold on your waist tightens a bit, just enough to anchor you back to him. his head tilts to the side slightly, concern flickering across his face as he watches you, his fingers brushing against your skin in a silent attempt to steady you. “hey,” he murmurs, his voice low. “what’s wrong?”, he asks and you blink up at him. you shake your head quickly. “nothing, i just—”, you trail off, the words falling flat.

soonyoung doesn’t say anything, but instead he shifts slightly, adjusting his movements as he gently guides you along with him this time. “be in the moment, breathe, listen to the music”, he says and you nod, but your body is still rigid, and soonyoung can feel it. you don’t want to admit that your mind is elsewhere, that your thoughts are tangled up in things you wish you could ignore. he can tell you’re distracted, that there’s something on your mind. but soonyoung is patient and he doesn’t press or doesn’t demand an explanation. he just watches you silently, his eyes searching yours before he speaks again.

“i’m going to dip you if you keep doing that”, he says and that makes you snap your head up to look at him. you narrow your eyes at him as you speak. “don’t you dare dip me kwon soonyoung”, you say and he chuckles at the mention of his full name.

“still don’t trust me huh”, he asks. “no”, you deadpan and he smiles softly.

then leans in slightly, lowering his voice as he speaks. “well that’s too bad because if you keep dancing like a robot, i’m going to have to dip you, that’s the rules”, he says, making you furrow your brows.

“what rules? that’s not a thing”, you counter. “oh it is actually”, he says. “i wrote it myself and rule number one is if your dance partner is too stiff, you must dip them”, he tells proudly and you scoff. but then you notice the mischief in his eyes and the alarms start ringing in your head. “soonyoung, no, do not dip me”, you say.

“why not?”, he asks. “because!”, you lower your voice, glancing around. “we will become the center of attention at a wedding that is not ours”, you say and soonyoung blinks, and then slowly, that mischievous grin spreads across his face.

“oh, you’re right,” he repeats. “that would be so dramatic”, he says, holding your gaze as you glare at him. “exactly so no dipping”, you repeat.

“but then it would be really iconic you know”, he says, like he’s trying to convince you. “no”, you say, but a soft laugh escapes you at his antics. soonyoung smiles because that’s exactly what he wanted. his smile lingers as he watches you and he notices the way the tension in your shoulders slowly eases, the way your body starts to relax under his hold. he wanted you to relax and let go and now you’re moving much better now, there’s no rush anymore. soonyoung watches you carefully, taking in the way your breath evens out, the way your fingers rest more comfortably against his shoulders. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, just lets the dance continue, letting you find your own pace.

“we still could, though”, he says and you blink up at him. “could what?”, you ask. “steal the show”, he says, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “one big dramatic dip and the crowd would lose their minds”, he says and you groan softly, rolling your eyes at him, and then you laugh again when you picture it in your head and that’s enough for soonyoung. he grins. mission accomplished.

“no soonyoung, we are not going to steal the show, it’s not even our wedding”, you say, the words slipping out of your mouth casually, but soonyoung’s ears perk up for some reason.

“so…you’re saying if this was our wedding you’d let me dip you?”, he asks, looking at you intently. his tone is playful but there's an underlying hint of curiosity in it. you shrug lightly. “i mean, hypothetically, if it was our wedding, then maybe”, you say and his heart seems to almost skip a beat at your words. his usual easy grin falters for just a heartbeat, just enough for you to notice the way his breath hitches and the way his eyes flicker with something unreadable. you hold soonyoung’s gaze as they draw you in. you could kiss him you think and you gulp at the thought.

the realization comes crashing down on you all over again, the weight of the moment making everything seem too much, too fast. you clear your throat, taking a step back, pulling yourself away from him and the intensity of his gaze. “i-i need to use the restroom,” you say quickly, suddenly needing to escape the unexpected tension. “okay,” he says softly, his hands dropping from your sides, but you can still feel the warmth of his touch. “i’ll be here when you get back”, he says and you nod before you step away from him and turn around, walking to the washroom, your heart still racing.

you stand in front of the washroom mirror and look at yourself. what was wrong with you? you could not be going around, thinking these kinds of thoughts about soonyoung. you shake your head, getting your thoughts back together before you exit the washroom. you are about to take a turn to head back to the dance floor where soonyoung is, when jaehyun comes walking through the corridor. you freeze for a second when you see him, but then continue walking, deciding to ignore him, but he stops you.

“yn”, he says and you hate it, hate the way he says your name, but you still turn around. he looks at you for a second before he speaks. “you look good tonight”, he says and you want to scoff, you want to roll your eyes but you don’t, keeping your face neutral. “thanks”, you mumble out.

“i’ve been thinking about you recently, so i’m sort of glad we bumped into each other here”, he says and you clench your jaw. you did not need to be hearing this right now. you don’t know what’s worse—the fact that he’s talking to you like nothing happened between you both, or the fact that he’s so damn casual about it, and his words feel like a punch to the gut.

“listen jaehyun, i’m not—”, you start but he cuts you off. “can we talk perhaps? would you be willing to give me another chance, i just miss you so bad”, he says and you scoff at the audacity he had to be saying that.

“you miss me?”, you repeat, and you can’t hide the disbelief in your tone. “after everything you did you think you can just waltz back into my life, tell me that you miss me, and i’ll forget all the shit you put me through?”, you ask, trying not to get upset.

outside, soonyoung waits for you like a puppy in the wedding hall, sitting on the chair looking around, hoping to see you soon. but it’s been fifteen minutes now, almost twenty and you haven’t come back yet, and he’s starting to get worried. so he gets up and makes his way to the building on the other side, hoping to find you.

jaehyun’s expression falters for a second, but he tries to close the distance between you, stepping forward. “yn please just—”, he starts off, but before he can reach you, you take a sharp step back.

“no, i’m not doing this,” you say firmly. you turn to walk away, your body tense, but jaehyun grabs your wrist, stopping you. his grip is firm, and for a second, you freeze, caught off guard.

“yn please,” he says again, almost pleading. “jaehyun let me go”, you say, but he doesn’t. “let go”, you repeat, trying to pull your hand away. “let’s just talk yn”, he says but you don’t want anything to do with him anymore.

“she said to let her go”, you hear a third voice— soonyoung’s as he stalks forward, grabbing jaehyun’s hand and yanking his hand off you. he looks directly at jaehyun, his gaze steady and unwavering. jaehyun huffs and walks away, leaving you and soonyoung alone in the corridor.

soonyoung’s eyes flicker briefly to you, his eyes softening with concern and he immediately notices the way your hands are trembling, how your breathing is shallow. you look up at him, and that’s when you realize your eyes are wet with tears you're trying to hold back. soonyoung’s brows furrow in worry. “hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice gentle but firm. you blink rapidly, trying to clear your head, trying to blink back the tears.

“i'm—i'm fine,” you whisper, though the words aren’t true and soonyoung knows it, but he doesn’t press you for details. soonyoung doesn't know what comes over him, but he reaches out for your hand, intertwining his fingers in yours and giving your hand a gentle squeeze, as if he was trying to ground you back to reality. his touch is warm and you don’t want to let go.

“come on,” he says gently. “let’s go outside for a bit and get some fresh air yeah?”, he asks. you hesitate for a moment and you look at him, only to see nothing but quiet understanding in his gaze. there’s no judgment, it’s just him, waiting patiently, holding space for you. you nod slowly and soonyoung slowly leads you outside. his thumb moves in slow circles against your hand, in an unconscious attempt to soothe you as he walks with you outside to the quiet garden area behind the venue. you let go of soonyoung’s hand as you cross your arms over your chest and watch from a distance—watching everyone dancing, having fun, drinking and talking. you can hear the faint echo of the music and the faint chatter of people and the cool night air wraps around you as the sound of laughter and music fade into the background. a shiver runs through you and you rub your arms for warmth, though it does little to nothing against the cold night air. a moment later you feel something warm and soft being draped over your shoulders.

you glance down in surprise, fingers brushing over the fabric—soonyoung’s jacket. it’s oversized on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but there’s the lingering warmth of his body heat still clinging to it. you blink up at him, and he shrugs, a small, lopsided smile playing at his lips. “this will keep you warm”, he says and you mumble out a small thanks before you look back ahead.

soonyoung doesn’t say anything right away and instead he watches you for a moment, taking in the way your shoulders are still tense, the way your jaw clenches ever so slightly, the way your breathes are just a little too controlled—like you’re trying to hold something in. soonyoung can tell that whatever happened back there was something more and you clearly didn’t want to talk about it.

instead, he steps beside you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he tilts his head up, looking at the sky. the stars are scattered across the dark sky, shimmering faintly. “you know,” he murmurs after a moment, “this is kinda nice”, he says. you blink, glancing at him. “what is?”, you ask and he nods towards the sky. “the stars, the quiet, just being here with you”.

something about the way he says it makes your chest tighten. just being here with you. for some reason that makes your throat feel tight and you swallow, turning your gaze back to the stars. “yeah,” you murmur. “it is kinda nice”, you say before you feel the weight settle on your shoulders again. your fingers clutch onto his jacket as if you’re trying to ground yourself, but it’s not working and soonyoung notices it instantly.

you take a step forward, not really thinking—just needing to move, but the soft grass catches onto your heel, tilting you off balance. you barely get a gasp out before you trip. but before you can even register what’s happening, a pair of strong hands grab your waist and soonyoung catches you, pulling you up against him with ease. your hands clutch onto his arms instinctively, “whoa—”, he huffs out. his voice is low, close to your ear. his grip on you doesn’t loosen, his hands staying on your waist, hot and unmoving, holding you close—closer than before—closer than you should be and your breath stutters. you’re pressed up against him, chest to chest, your noses barely a breath apart. it’s like he doesn’t even realize how close he’s holding you, how there’s barely any space left between the both of you. you can feel the heat of his skin through his shirt and the faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air between you.

your gaze flickers up to meet his and the world seems to slow down at that moment, and neither of you move. soonyoung watches you carefully, his lips parting like he wants to say something, but the words never come. his gaze drops, just for a second to your lips and your heart skips a beat. soonyoung’s eye’s flicker back up and he holds your gaze, his fingers instinctively pressing into your sides before he finally loosens his grip, but he doesn’t let go completely. he stills holds onto you, staying right where he is, holding you close. and then he speaks, his voice soft, careful, gentle.

“do you wanna go home?”, he asks lowly and his breath is soft against your skin as he speaks. his nose brushes against yours ever so slightly as he speaks, just the faintest touch, but it’s enough to send sparks flying. you blink, surprised, because you weren’t expecting him to ask that. whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t this. he’s so so close and you gulp. you can barely form any words with how close he is, with the way he’s looking at you, with the way he’s holding you. you open your mouth to speak, but soonyoung beats you to it.

“it’s okay if you do,” he adds. “we don’t have to stay if you’re not comfortable”, he whispers and you swallow hard. “maybe going home would be good”, you manage to muster out softly, feeling like you were melting under his gaze with the intensity that he was looking at you with.

he slowly loosens his grip on your waist and eases his hands, his touch lingering just for a second longer before finally pulling back completely. you exhale, stepping back slightly, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment before they fall down by your sides. the cool night air rushes between you both and you look away. you don’t know why, but maybe it’s because this all feels too much—too raw, too intimate and too real. you try to distract yourself, so you smooth your hands over your dress, clearing your throat. soonyoung watches you carefully. “come on,” he finally says, his voice softer than before. “let’s get you home”.

when you reach home, you bid soonyoung goodbye, and you offer to drive him home, but he declines, saying he’d take a cab. you’re quick to peel off your heels when you enter and sigh in relief as you walk barefoot to your room. you toss your small hand bag on the bed and plop down, letting out another heavy sigh. you fall back down on the bed and you stare up at the ceiling, thinking about soonyoung.

you can feel your heart pick up its pace at the thought of him and you groan. you think about how close he was, how his nose brushed against yours ever so slightly, and how if you had just leaned in slightly, you could have kissed him. you shake your head at the thought again and you seriously think there’s something terribly wrong with you. you could not be thinking about kissing your best friend's younger brother because that was just wrong. there’s no way you could be falling in love with soonyoung, right? somewhere along the line, you had started seeing him as a man, not just as your best friend's younger brother and the realization hits you hard, making you curse under your breath. this was just supposed to be casual, not real.

when soonyoung goes home later that night, he’s confused. he finds himself laying wide awake in bed again. his heart is racing, still, hours later, and he has no idea why. there’s a strange unfamiliar tug at his heart at the thought of you. he presses his palm flat against his chest, like that would help steady his beating heart, help him stop whatever this feeling was, but it doesn’t work. soonyoung frowns at the ceiling instead, frustrated. what the hell is wrong with him?

soonyoung doesn’t understand what’s happening to him. he doesn’t understand what he’s feeling and it’s driving him crazy. he stirs and grabs his phone, opening the browser, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a second before he types the first thing that comes to mind.

“how do you know if you’re falling in love?”

the search results load instantly and soonyoung squints at the screen as he scrolls though them. his heart thuds uncomfortably as he skims through the first few answers in the article clicked on.

you think about them all the time.

you want to be around them constantly.

your heart races when you see them.

you feel nervous and excited around them at the same time.

you find yourself drawn to small details about them

you miss them when they’re not around.

soonyoung’s stomach flips as he reads and he swallows hard. he scrolls faster, clicking on another link, his fingers trembling slightly as he types in a new searches, hoping to find some more answers within them.

what does love feel like?

why does my chest feel weird when i think about someone?

can you fall in love by accident?

what to do when you fall for your fake date?

he exhales sharply as he reads the through the articles and all the answers and he drops his phone onto his chest, rubbing a hand over his face. soonyoung’s heart is racing and his head is spinning. his emotions are tangled into a mess he can’t begin to unravel and he’s now he’s even more confused.

and the worst part is he knows, he now knows what this is, what this feeling is. soonyoung is falling for you, hard, and that was never part of the plan.

it’s been a week since the wedding, since soonyoung held you so close, since you felt your heart race in a way you hadn’t felt in a while. you think you’re going crazy, that there’s some sort of bug that’s bitten you that’s making you think all these stupid thoughts. in all this, the one person who seems to be on your mind is jaehyun. fuck, ever since you saw him, the past, all the memories, the way he left you feeling all comes flooding back and you hate it. since it’s friday, the weekend, you decide to indulge yourself and decide to drown your sorrows down with alcohol. maybe if you drink enough, the ache in your chest will dull and all the thoughts will quiet down and you can forget—at least for a little while.

which is how you find yourself slumped at the bar, staring at the rim of your third bottle of soju. your fingers trace circles against the cool glass as you sit. the bar is dimly lit, the low hum of chatter and clinking glasses buzzing around you, but you barely register any of it. the warmth of the alcohol spreads through your veins, making everything feel just a little slower, just a little heavier. your vision blurs slightly as you fumble for your phone, unlocking it with shaky fingers and you squint at the screen, scrolling through your contacts.

you were meaning to call jihyo, you swear you were. but in your tipsy state, your finger presses on the contact just below hers instead—soonyoung's.

soonyoung is no doubt surprised when you call him, but he picks up nonetheless. “hello?”, he says, his voice filling you ear and you don’t even register that it’s not jihyo’s voice. you sit up, blinking lazily. “hi babe”, you say and there’s a beat of silence as soonyoung furrows his brows, wondering if he had actually heard you right. did you just call him babe?

“i’m at the bar we usually go to downtown,” you continue, your words slurred but carrying a familiar warmth, as if this were any normal conversation with jihyo. “and i’m so wasted right now, but i can’t stop thinking about stupid jaehyun”, you say and soonyoung sits up straighter, his fingers tightening around his phone. but you don’t even give him a chance to interrupt as you go on, the words tumbling out of you in your tipsy state.

“jihyo, wait…did i tell you what happened at the wedding?”, you ask and that’s when it clicks for him. you had meant to call jihyo, but you had called him instead. he thinks that he should probably interrupt and tell you that it’s not jihyo that you called, but he doesn’t, something stops him. maybe it’s the slight wobble in your voice, or the way you sounded so tired, but he keeps the phone to his ear, listening to you.

“it’s so stupid really, i don’t know why i’m–i’m wasting my time over him”, you slur out, the words coming out in a rush, softer, more vulnerable, and that’s when soonyoung realizes how drunk you actually are and his heart tugs with worry.

soonyoung knew which bar you were talking about because he’s gone there with jihyo and his friends before. he’s already getting up without hesitation, worried and you continue to speak. “he came up to me and—”, your voice cuts off, the call hanging up and soonyoung is confused. he pulls his phone down from his ear and calls you again, but you don’t pick up and it goes straight to voicemail. he calls again but the same thing happens and he realises your phone must have died.

“shit,” he mutters under his breath and now soonyoung is really worried. he doesn’t waste another second as he opens the door to his room, throwing on his jacket as he practically runs out the door, ignoring seungkwan yelling at him as to where he was running off to so late. his mind is racing, heart hammering in his chest as he speed runs toward the bar you mentioned. he just runs, trying to make his way to you as fast as possible. thankfully the bar was closeby, and if he ran, he could reach you in ten minutes. by the time he pulls up to the bar, his hands are trembling and his breathing is heavy from all the running. his chest is rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. the neon sign of the bar flickers above the entrance, casting a dull glow around him and his legs move on their own as he pushes the door open and steps inside.

his eyes scan the dimly lit room, and the dull music that plays in the background fills his ears. he moves past tables and clusters of people, his heart pounding as his eyes try to find you—and then there you are. you’re sitting at the corner by the window, slumped forward, resting your chin on your hand, your elbow resting on the table as you stare into space. your fingers lazily trace circles on the table and three empty bottles of soju sit in front of you.

soonyoung lets out a quiet sigh of relief when he sees you and his legs automatically move on their own, making his way towards you. “yn” he says, his voice urgent and worried. “are you okay?”, he asks, looking at you. you blink slowly, lifting your head to look at him, your eyes hazy and unfocused, and for a second you just stare, like your brain is trying to process the fact that he’s here—that he’s in front of you.

“soonyoung?” you murmur, blinking again. your lips curve into a lazy, tipsy smile. “oh, hey! did jihyo send you?”, you ask and he only blinks at you. he sighs again. “you’re okay,” he breathes, more to himself than anything.

his eyes sweep over you and take in the way you’re swaying slightly in your seat, the way your fingers fumble clumsily with your empty glass, the way your shoulders slump like the weight of the world is pressing down on them.

“what happened?” he asks, his voice softer now. “why didn’t you charge your phone? you scared the shit out of me”, he says and you pout slightly, looking at him, confused. “my phone died?”, you ask and soonyoung runs a hand through his hair, sighing again. “yeah, it did”, he answers.

you giggle lightly—like it’s funny—but soonyoung doesn’t laugh, because underneath the drunken haze, there’s something off about you. you’re not just tipsy, you’re sad.

soonyoung takes a seat beside you, because you were sitting at a table with two seats beside each other. he’s close but not too close, his shoulder just barely brushing against yours and he’s quiet, watching you carefully. and before you can stop yourself, the words start tumbling out.

“it’s so stupid soonyoung”, you say, frowning.“i saw jaehyun at the wedding and it was like everything came rushing back to me, you know?”, you say, your tone carrying a hint of sadness in it. “i thought i was over him, i should be over him, but seeing him again, hearing him say he misses me like it meant something—”, your voice cracks and you let out a sharp humorless laugh. “like he didn’t leave me when i needed him the most”, you finish and exhale shakily, dropping your gaze. soonyoung doesn’t interrupt, he just listens to you.

“we dated for four years, and he just broke it off like it was nothing”, you say drily. “he broke up with me, dumped me actually, because he said i was boring, that i was no longer the same person he had fallen in love with. and it hurt, it hurt so bad. i spent so long thinking something was wrong with me, that i wasn’t enough for him. that maybe if i was more fun, if i could just change something about me, then maybe he would have still loved me, that he would have stayed”, you say, your voice shaking as you speak.

the words hang in the air, heavy and soonyoung shifts beside you, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for yours but isn’t sure if he should. “i just—i don’t know why i let it get to me,” you mumble, your voice quieter now. “it’s pathetic.”

“soonyoung,” you whisper his name after a moment, your voice small as you look at him, your eyes wet. “do you think i’m boring?”, you ask and his eyes widen slightly at your question, caught off guard. “what?”, he asks.

you swallow the lump in your throat, blinking rapidly, but it’s useless—the tears are already welling up and a shaky laugh escapes you. “maybe he was right, maybe i am boring”, you say and you sniff, willing yourself not to cry but it doesn’t work. your vision blurs and your shoulder shakes as a quiet sob slips out.

soonyoung’s chest tightens at the sight of you breaking down. “hey, no—” he says softly, shifting closer, his hand hesitating before he reaches for your face. he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear, but another one follows immediately after and his heart clenches.

“you’re not boring,” he says, his voice firm but still gentle. “not even close”.

his hand lingers on your cheek, warm and grounding, and when you finally look at him again, his gaze is so soft, it makes your breath catch because it’s so achingly tender. soonyoung watches as more tears slip down your cheeks and he wipes them away with his thumb. “don’t cry over him, he’s not worth it”, he murmurs, his voice low.

you sniffle, swallowing down another sob and his hand tilts your face up just a little more, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheekbone. “you are enough, more than enough,” he says, like he needs you to believe them. “and if he couldn’t see that, then that’s his problem”, he finishes. you let out a shaky breath at his words, your lip trembling as another tear slips down and soonyoung catches it before it can fall too far, this thumb caressing your cheek gently.

you take another shaky breath as you look at soonyoung, your voice barely a whisper as you speak. "i—i think i want to go home", you say and his face softens and without another word he nods in understanding “alright,” he says gently. “let’s get you home”.

soonyoung helps you gather your belongings and holds onto your handbag before he stands up. he offers you his hand. you take and rise to your feet, your legs are still a little shaky. soonyoung notices this and immediately moves to support you. you don’t know what it is, but being close to him feels like the most natural thing in the world right now. he leads you out, supporting you as you walk. his hand on your lower back, his steps matching yours, making sure you’re steady as you reach the bus stop.

he bus ride is quiet, the hum of the engine and the soft flicker of streetlights outside the windows the only sounds. you sit beside him, a comfortable silence stretching between you. without thinking, you shift closer to him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort he offers. his arm instinctively wraps around your shoulders as you lean into him, his presence grounding you like nothing else. the slight bump of the bus makes you instinctively grip his shirt, your fingers curling onto the fabric as if it’s the only thing holding you together. soonyoung’s body stiffens at first, but then he relaxes, his hand gently resting on your shoulder as he holds you. he doesn’t say anything—he doesn’t need to.

you’ve fallen asleep and soonyoung gently wakes you up when your stop is near. you stir awake and blink in confusion before you realise where you are. the bus slows to a stop, and as the doors open, soonyoung's hand instinctively intertwines into yours, guiding you off the bus. you feel a little unsteady, and the alcohol making your legs feel like jelly, still tipsy, and soonyoung immediately notices, his arm going around your waist to steady you.

“i’ve got you”, he murmurs, his voice soft as he helps you step down onto the sidewalk. he’s watching you closely, his gaze gentle but full of concern. “you okay?” he asks and you nod, though you’re still a little out of it. slowly, you take a step forward, and soonyoung stays right there, just close enough that you can lean onto him if you need to. you try to keep your balance, but with each step, you feel the world spinning just a little bit more, the alcohol still clouding your senses. soonyoung is quick to catch onto this and immediately shifts, now holding onto your waist with more purpose, his grip tightening just enough to make sure you don’t lose your footing. “it’s okay, i’m right here” he says softly again, his voice close to your ear. without realizing it, you find yourself leaning into him, your body instinctively trusting the comfort he provides. soonyoung walks beside you in quiet understanding as he leads you to your house, his steady pace matching yours and you can feel him subtly adjusting his steps to ensure you’re not struggling, walking with you slowly.

as you reach the door of your building, soonyoung helps you up the stairs, his hand never leaving your side. he’s so in tune with you, watching you closely for any sign that you might stumble. with each step, he remains right there, supporting you, not letting go. when you finally reach your door, soonyoung gives you a soft smile, one that’s full of care and warmth. "you’re home," he says quietly, still holding onto you.

“thank you soonyoung”, you say, giving him a small smile and he smiles back. “call me if you need anything,” he says softly, his tone filled with unspoken understanding and you can tell that he genuinely cares. you nod again and he watches as you unlock the door and walk inside, making sure you get in safe before he leaves.

when soonyoung wakes up the next morning, he’s a mess and perhaps a little lovesick. he can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop thinking about the way you clung onto him, the way you seemed to so naturally fit in his life. he gulps as he sits on the edge of his bed, running a hand through his hair and thinking about how fucked he is. he was never supposed to fall for you, he was never supposed to catch feelings. he didn’t even know how it happened. this was all new to him and he was falling in love for the first time—with you.

he heads out of the room and walks to the kitchen, his footsteps heavy. he grabs a bowl and pours in some cereal and milk before he pulls out a chair and takes a seat at the dining table. soonyoung shovels the cereal in his mouth like a robot, his mind wandering, his thoughts a mess, his feelings in chaos. “did you break up or something, you look like you’re about to cry”, seungkwan cuts in, looking at the soonyoung who looked like there was a grey cloud looming over his head.

soonyoung only sighs as he shovels another spoonful of the already soggy cereal in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before he speaks. “i screwed things up”, soonyoung says. In defeat. “did you guys fight or something? you know flowers are always the answer, rose specifically”, seungkwan adds.

“no we didn’t fight….i just…fuck….this whole thing is so confusing”, soonyoung says, leaning back in his chair and running a hand through his hair. “i think i’m in love”, soonyoung finally says and seungkwan looks at him like there’s something wrong with him. “you’re making a fuss because you think you’re in love with your girlfriend? are you drunk?”, he asks, giving soonyoung a look.

“but that wasn’t part of the plan!”, soonyoung almost yells, frustrated at seungkwan, and frustrated at himself mostly. he never in his wildest dreams thought that he would find himself in this situation, and yet here he is.

“what do you mean that was never part of the plan? were you guys not exclusive or something? was this a situationship kind of thing?”, seungkwan asks, confused, having no idea that soonyoung was only fake dating.

“ugh it’s complicated man”, soonyoung says before muttering something about how he needed to get ready for work and gets up, leaving the table, leaving seungkwan even more confused. soonyoung doesn’t know what to feel, doesn’t know what to think. so he does what he thinks is the easiest thing to do—he avoids you.

you wake up that morning and last night’s events come crashing down on you. you curse under your breath but your heart also flutters at the thought of soonyoung. you shake your head, hoping to get your thoughts back in order. no, you can’t be falling for soonyoung, you just can’t. so you decide to avoid him. the week goes by fairly easily, with you managing to not bump into him anywhere thankfully. but every once in a while, you find yourself thinking about him, thinking about the warmth of his touch, the softness in his gaze, the way his eyes would turn into little crescent moons when he laughed or smiled and your heart aches—because you miss him.

when jihyo calls you to meet up with her at a cafe to catch up, you jump at the opportunity. you push the door open to the cafe, the scent of coffee and buttery pastries welcoming you. your eyes scan the room and you spot jihyo. you walk a few more steps inside, making your way to the table and that’s when you spot soonyoung there too, and you freeze. what the fuck. why was soonyoung here too? jihyo spots you and waves over to you and you break your trance and walk ahead. soonyoung seems to finally notice you too and his eyes widen in surprise before he looks away in a hurry.

“there’s my baby girl”, jihyo says as he pulls you into a hug and you smile, hugging her back. you pull away and glance at soonyoung, giving him a small wave to acknowledge his presence and he gives you a small “hi” before looking down at his hands in his lap. you sit down opposite them. “i brought soonie along since he said he was in the area, so i invited him too, i hope you don’t mind”, jihyo asks. “it’s fine”, you say, giving her a small smile, but you were dying on the inside.

you glance at soonyoung and you catch him already staring at you and the both of you look away at the same time. soonyoung seems too busy arranging the tissues on the table. then jihyo tells soonyoung to go fetch the order and he glady gets up. he comes back a moment later with a tray of drinks— a iced latte for jihyo, an americano for himself and a hot green tea for you. you had also ordered two pastries, a strawberry cream cake and an almond croissant for soonyoung.

“how was the wedding by the way?” jihyo asks casually, taking a sip of her iced latte and soonyoung nearly chokes on his drink. you freeze mid bite, your grip on the spoon faltering for a second and across the table jihyo raises an eyebrow at the both of you. soonyoung desperately coughs into his sleeve, trying to regain his composure.

jihyo frowns and reaches out, thumping soonyoung firmly on the back. “jeez, slow down man, the coffee isn’t going anywhere”, jihyo says when he stops coughing and he clears his throat.

you quickly look down, pretending to focus on your cake, your heart hammering in your chest. you and soonyoung haven’t really talked since the wedding, or since he dropped your drunk self home—not about that moment, not about how close you were, not about the feelings that were bubbling up and slowly simmering inside. instead, you both did what mature adults do—you both ignored it, completely.

“it was fine,” you say too quickly, shoving a piece of the cake in your mouth so you don’t have to talk anymore.

“yeah, it was totally fine, just normal wedding things”, soonyoung says and you glance at him, noticing how he looks equally uncomfortable and frazzled. jihyo’s eyes the both of you suspiciously. “just fine?”, she asks as she turns to soonyoung, nudging him. “you always go on about the food at weddings, and you didn’t dance? that’s like your entire personality, you live for wedding dance floors”, jihyo says to him. soonyoung, who had just reached for his fork, panics at the question and moves too fast, knocking the fork right off the table with a loud clang.

soonyoung looks like his entire life is flashing before his eyes and he scrambles to pick up the fork. “nothing! that was nothing! i’m just clumsy”, he says and jihyo gives him a look, as she narrows her eyes at him. “uh-huh”, she says and then she turns to you. “you’re being suspiciously quiet”, she says as she looks at you and you try to stay calm.

“i’m just eating my cake,” you say, voice a little too high pitched. “nothing weird about eating cake”, you say, shoving another spoonful of the cake in your mouth. jihyo looks between the both of you, the gears turning in her brain. “you guys are being weird”, she declares. “we’re not being weird”, you say, taking a big sip of your tea. jihyo looks at you both again before she suddenly gasps, smacking the table so hard that soonyoung flinches.

“oh my god”, she says. “you guys hooked up at the wedding, didn’t you?”, she completes and you mid sip, nearly spit out and choke on the hot tea and soonyoung makes an unintelligible sound of horror. “WHAT?!” you yelp at the same time soonyoung practically shouts, “NO”.

“what the fuck jihyo, we did NOT hook up oh my god”, you groan out, covering you face in embarrassment. soonyoung just looks baffled, at a loss for words. “we didn’t do anything, stop being gross”, soonyoung whines, nudging jihyo, who looks between the both of you, clearly enjoying this.

“right”, she says and decides to leave it. she’d grill out about this later. you gulp down your tea and soonyoung chugs down his americano while jihyo sits back and watches this unfold, eyeing you both, while you try to act normal.

later that week, soonyoung is a mess—a pathetic, sulking mess. he drags his feet wherever he goes, sighing dramatically at least twenty times a day. all his friends and colleagues at the dance studio notice this of course, because how could they not? he barely reacts to any teasing and barely fights back when seungkwan steals his food, so it’s bad. in an attempt to not feel like a heartbroken puppy, soonyoung does the only thing he knows how to do—he dances. he spends more time at the dance studio, dancing it out, trying to get his mind off things, his mind off you. but he can’t because you seem to have taken over his mind and heart. he groans and collapses onto the floor, breathing hard as he tries to catch his breath from exerting himself a little too much. no matter what he does, he just can’t get you off his mind.

after that week, you end up ghosting jihyo too, only because you didn’t know how to face her. how could you admit that you were falling for her younger brother? that would just be crazy and you’d sound insane, you couldn't do that. so, like a completely mature adult, you ghost her for almost two weeks before she puts two and two together and decides to turn up at your apartment. you don’t expect to see her, so when you open the door to her, your eyes widen in surprise.

“jihyo, hey, what are you doing here?”, you ask, stepping aside and she gives you a knowing look. “do i need a reason to see my best friend?”, she says, stepping inside and you let her, because it’s not like you can shove her out. you turn around and walk inside, asking if she wants anything to drink or eat, but she just raids your fridge and pantry like she always did, and finds a pack of chips, opening it. you pray to the gods that she doesn’t bring up soonyoung, or the fact that you’ve been ignoring her, but you know she will— because she’s jihyo.

“so, care to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?”, she asks finally and you take a big gulp of water instead, hoping to buy some time while she bores her eyes into you. you let out a nervous laugh. “what do you mean? i’m not avoiding you”, you say and she raises an eyebrow at you.

“right, so you haven’t been ignoring my calls or leaving all my texts on read on purpose?”, she asks and you nod. “i’ve just been really really really busy, work picked up, we got new clients and it’s just been really hectic”, you say. but you knew jihyo and you knew that she wasn’t buying this bullshit excuse you were giving her.

“so you hooked up with soonyoung then”, she says and your eyes widen in horror again. “JIHYO NO, oh my god”, you groan. “why do you keep thinking that”, you ask, looking at her. “because if you don’t start spilling the beans and tell me what’s going on, i’m just going to believe that you and soonyoung hooked up”, she says as she chomps down on a chip. you scoff at her and clear your throat, trying to gather your thoughts. one thing about jihyo was that she didn’t take bullshit from anyone—not even you. so you knew you had to come clean, otherwise she would quite literally haunt you about this.

“fuck”, you say under your breath looking down at the floor before you look back up. how were you even going to say this?

“just don’t kill me”, you start off as jihyo looks at you, chomping down on another chip, waiting for you to continue. “i—i think i’m falling for soonyoung”, you finally say, the words finally out, hanging in the air between you both. you expect jihyo to gasp, to throw the bag of chips at you, to say that she wasn’t going to be your friend anymore, but she doesn’t. she only shrugs and nods. “yeah, that makes sense”, she says.

you blink at her, confused. “that’s it? that’s all you have to say about what i just confessed”, you ask and she shrugs her shoulders again.

“if you want my permission, then i approve, you guys are cute together anyway”, she says and you give her another confused look. you stare at her, utterly bewildered. “i—what—excuse me?””, you stutter out because whatever reaction you were hoping for, this wasn’t it at all.

“honestly, i already knew something was up between you guys. the way soonyoung looks at you? the way you look at him when you think no one’s watching? soonyoung’s been acting so different lately, so anyone who knows him could tell. sso babe, this has been so obvious for weeks”, jihyo says and you jaw drops.

“and then you guys were acting so weird after i asked about the wedding”. “we were not,” you argue, but the heat creeping up your neck says otherwise and jihyo gives you another flat look. “you both nearly choked to death when i brought it up that day”, she says and you scowl. “that doesn’t mean anything”, you say and she scoffs. “oh please, anyone could tell that there’s something going on between you both”, she says and you feel heat creep up your cheeks at her words. there’s no way you both had been that obvious.

“sooo… are you gonna do something about it?”, she asks a beat later and you look at her. “so you’d be okay if i date your brother?”, you ask and she nods. “yeah, like i said you guys are hella cute together, and soonie is like head over heels in love with you”, she casually says and your blush more. “stop it, he’s not head over heels in love with me, i don’t even know if he likes me back”, you counter but she just gives you a look.

“girl, trust me, that boy is in love”, she says, popping another chip in her mouth. “so i think you should tell him how you feel, because he’s been moping around like an idiot”, she adds and you perk up at the mention of that.

“what do you mean?”, you ask. “that stupid idiot is walking around sulking all day, acting heartbroken and it’s pissing me off. but it’s also his first time falling in love so i’m cutting him some slack, otherwise i would have knocked some sense into him long back”, she tells.

jihyo glances at the clock on the wall. “okay, i’ll take this as my cue to leave, i have to get to a meeting, but please go tell that boy how you feel before he evaporates off the face of the earth with the way he’s sulking”, she instructs, popping one last chip in her mouth and dusting her hands. she walks towards the door, slipping on her shoes. “and if you guys do hook up, please use protection”, she says and you gasp in horror, your soul nearly leaving your body.

“JIHYO!” you screech and she just cackles. “get out, get out”, you say, playfully shoving her out and she laughs. “what? i’m being serious, i’m not ready to be an aunt yet”, she adds, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“oh my god, shut the fuck up”, you say exasperated, but your face is burning and she laughs as she waves at you. “mhm, sure, sure, i’ll call you later”, she says before turning around and giving you a serious look. “just don’t break each other's hearts”, she says, giving you one last look before heading off.

hours later, you lay in bed thinking about what jihyo said and thinking about soonyoung. was he really moping around? there’s no way he actually liked you back that much…right? so you get up, throw on a jacket, grab your phone from the nightstand and make your way to him. the receptionist doesn’t even blink when you walk right in, seeming to recognise you and she only yells out which room number soonyoung is at. you stride forward like you’re on a mission, but as soon as you reach the door, you freeze for a moment.

you reach for the door handle, just at the same time soonyoung pulls open the door from inside and it takes you by surprise. before you even have the time to react, a startled gasp leaves your lips and you find yourself stumbling forward—right into a solid, warm chest—right into soonyoung. you crash into him, your hands instinctively gripping his arms as you try to steady yourself, but the force of your fall sends him stumbling back a step. his hands fly to your waist, catching you before you can completely lose your balance, fingers pressing against your sides in a firm yet gentle grip.

“whoa—what the—”, soonyoung breathes out, his voice a little strained as his back hits the edge of the doorframe, but his arms stay wrapped around you, keeping you from toppling over entirely. you blink up at him and your face is just inches from his, close enough to see the way his lips part in surprise, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as his hands still hold onto you. “s-soonyoung,” you stammer out, trying to pull back, but his grip lingers for just a moment longer, as if his body reacts before his mind does. then, as if snapping out of a daze, he lets go quickly, clearing his throat. you take a step back, creating some distance between you both and your gaze flickers to the sides of the room before landing back on him, nervous.

“what are you doing here?”, he asks, thinking something might have happened with the way you practically fell on him moments ago. you blink up at him. “i—uh—came to talk to you”, you say and soonyoung blinks back at you. “you did?”, he asks, his voice soft, almost uncertain and you nod.

you take a step inside the room and soonyoung closes the door behind you. “yeah”, you say. the dance practice is room lit, the glow from the overhead lights brightening the room and polished wooden floors and mirrors. there are no chairs, just a wide open space.

“uh—sorry, there aren’t any chairs,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “but the floor’s not too bad, i sit here all the time”, he says and you can’t help but smile a little at that. “yeah, i figured”, you say. soonyoung smiles nervously and then gestures toward the corner of the room where his bag and water bottle are. “let’s sit?”, he asks and you follow him to the corner of the room. you both sit down and he sits beside you—not too close, but not too far either. the silence between you both stretches, thick with unsaid things. soonyoung fidgets with his fingers, tapping it restlessly against his knee.

“hi”, he finally says softly, breaking the silence and looking at you, his eyes holding a tender gaze. you smile lighty. “hi”, you say, looking at him. “what did you want to talk about?”, he asks slowly after a moment, although he thinks he knows why you came. soonyoung is looking at you—uncertain, nervous, but hopeful. you hesitate, suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating. you take a deep breath. “i…”,you start but pause and swallow, before speaking again.”i’ve been thinking about you…a lot”, you say and soonyoung stills. his fingers stop their nervous tapping on his knee and his posture straightens.

“me too”, he admits after a moment. “i… i don’t really know how to say this,” he says, letting out a small, breathy laugh. “i mean—i do know. i’ve been thinking about it for weeks, but now that you’re here, i just—i’m sorry if i messed things up between us and ruined the whole fake dating plan”, he says in a rush as he exhales sharply, shaking his head. his fingers fidget in his lap again, his knee bouncing slightly with the nervous energy around him. you open your mouth to say something but he speaks up again.

“but i think—”, he says, inhaling sharply. “i think i’m falling in love with you”, he confesses softly, the words coming out of his chest and now hanging delicately in the air between you both. he looks nervous and his eyes are filled with vulnerability and hope. the moment the words are out, he immediately looks away, his eyes flitting across the room like he’s searching for some sort of escape, his fingers tightening in his lap. he waits for you to say something, anything.

you swallow hard, feeling your heart hammering against your chest at his confession, the one he beat you to. “soonyoung” you whisper and his jaw clenches slightly with tension. “i know this probably isn’t what you expected and i understand if you don’t feel the same way. i just—” he lets out a breath, clenching his palms into fists on his lap. “i just couldn’t keep pretending, couldn't keep it in anymore”, he says and his voice is so genuine that it tugs at your heartstrings.

“you didn’t mess anything up”, you say, and he furrows his brows slightly, like he’s not sure, like he’s not convinced. “i didn’t?”, he asks and you shake your head.

“because i think i’m falling in love with you too”, you finally confess and his eyes widen in surprise as silence engulfs the both of you. soonyoung stares at you, blinking like he’s not sure he heard you right. “wait,” he breathes out. “you— you do?”, he asks and a small, shy laugh escapes you as you nod. “yeah, i do”, you confirm and he blinks at you again. you can see the way a slow smile starts to spread across his face before he clears his throat, trying to play it cool. he turns his head away for a second, blushing fiercely, trying to collect himself.

“i thought i was going crazy when i thinking about you all the time, wondering if you maybe felt the same way”, he says. you smile, a hint of warmth blooming in your chest. “you weren’t going crazy”, you assure and he shakes his head. “i mean, i actually was kind of going crazy”, he admits with a small laugh and you laugh too.

the walk home feels surreal almost, as if neither of you can quite believe what just happened. the cool night air brushes against your skin and there’s a comfortable silence in the air, peaceful almost. you both can’t seem to stop smiling—especially soonyoung. he walks beside you with hands stuffed into his pockets at first, but every few moments, he glances over at you, his face flushing whenever your eyes meet. you can’t help but notice how much more nervous he seems now that things are real. it’s sweet and endearing, and it makes your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect.

his plucks his hands out of his pockets and they brush against yours as you walk together. you glance at him and he’s trying to keep his composure, his fingers brushing against yours again. so when you reach out and gently close your fingers around his, soonyoung’s eyes widen. he stops walking for a beat, like he’s processing the softness of your touch, the warmth of your hand in his. he looks over at you and gives you a shy smile. it feels so natural, holding his hand, and there’s something about they way they fit together so perfectly that makes your heart swell. you give him a small smile and he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, like he’s trying to make sure this is actually real.

when you reach your building, neither of you immediately lets go. you stand there for a moment, the quiet hanging between you both as you just enjoying the warmth of each other’s touch, of each other’s presence. you look up at him. “thanks for walking me home,” you say softly. soonyoung’s smile is sweet. “anytime,” he says, his voice just a little hushed, like he’s holding onto this moment just as tightly as you are.

you finally pull your hand away from his and look down at the ground before you look back up at him. “i guess i’ll see you later then”, you say and he nods. “yeah, okay”, he says, stuffing his hands back in his pockets. you take a few steps backwards and lift up your hand to give him a wave. “bye”, you say and he gives you a small wave too. you walk inside your building but after a few steps you halt. you think for a moment before you turn around and jog back outside and see soonyoung walking away, his back turned to you.

“soonyoung wait!”, you call out and he turns around immediately, confused for a second as you run up to him. you stand in front of him, and with a sudden rush of courage you lean in, going on your tip-toes and you press a soft lingering kiss to his cheek. soonyoung freezes, his eyes widening in surprise. you pull back and glance at him. “goodnight”, you whisper and take a step back, seeing the tips of his ears turning red, caught completely off guard by your action and it’s like the world seems to pause.

after what feels like an eternity, he swallows and he stammers out a response. “g-goodnight”, he says, his voice softer than usual, tinged with surprise. you give him one last shy smile before you turn, walking back to your building and before you step inside, you glance back at him one last time to find soonyong still standing there, dazed, watching you and he rubs the back of his neck nervously, like he was trying to ground himself, make sure what happened was real and you smile at how cute he is before finally slipping inside.

1 month later

the room is dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm, golden hue over everything in your apartment. you sit on the couch and notice soonyoung and how nervous he seemed to have suddenly gotten. he was restless for some reason and you were quick to notice it.

“you okay?”, you ask, your voice soft as you look at him. “yeah, just nervous i guess”, he says, his voice small.

“nervous? why?”, you ask as you lean in closer to him, putting down the lego blocks with the half built flower on the table. soonyoung had gotten you one of those lego flowers to build, so you called him over to do it together. but soonyoung only shrugs at you, tearing his gaze away from you. you tilt your head, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “come on, what’s up?”, you ask as you look at him. this time, he doesn’t answer right away. his lips part as if he wants to say something, but he hesitates, his throat bobbing with an anxious swallow. when he finally looks at you, there’s something unspoken in his gaze.

“it’s stupid”, he says as you look at him, “i’m sure it’s not”, you assure.

“i…i really want to…”, he trails off, feeling the tips of his ears heat up and he looks away. “soonyoung”, you say, laughing softly at the way he was acting.

“i just really want to kiss you but i don’t know how”, he says, almost too quickly that if you weren’t listening you wouldn't have caught it, but you hear every syllable.

for a moment, there’s silence between you both and the world narrows down to just you and him. you can see his nervous energy with the way his hands curl into his lap, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. you watch as his gaze flickers down to your lips before quickly darting away. a small smile tugs at your lips. “soonyoung,” you say softly, amused but undeniably endeared by him. you reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “then how about i teach you?”, you say and he blinks at you.

you slide closer to him and your legs brush against his. you slowly shift so you’re straddling him, knees on either side of his waist as you settle on his lap. he freezes, caught off guard by the closeness. you place your hands on his shoulders, your touch light and delicate. "is this okay?" you ask, softly. he swallows, his throat tight and heart racing as he nods slowly, though his voice barely comes out. "yeah, it’s okay”.

you had dated before, so you knew what this moment was supposed to feel like—gentle, unhurried. but for him, this was all new. it was his first kiss, his first real kiss, with you.

you move your hands to cup his cheek, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline, tender and light. you don’t rush, you take your time. you lean in slowly, teasingly almost, your face just inches away from his and he waits patiently. you lean in more and his eyes flutter close, waiting in anticipation. your lips brush against and his breath catches.

you press your lips to his gently, as if you were testing the waters. his body goes still, the touch of your lips so soft and warm, but different. it was new, so new. there was so much happening in his chest, an overwhelming mix of excitement and nerves and something tender. you pull away slightly, just to make sure he was okay and his eyes flutter open. “relax baby”, you mutter softly, looking at him and he nods ever so slightly.

you lean in and kiss him again, pressing your lips to his, cupping his cheeks and you can feel him relax into you a bit this time. when he doesn’t pull away, you whisper against his lips, “now part your lips just a little”, and he does, his breath shaky as he follows your instructions. you tilt your head a little, deepening the kiss ever so slightly and his hand moves instinctively to your waist, pulling you in a little closer and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours. your lips move slowly against his, but just as gentle. all that mattered in this moment was him and his first kiss with you. he kisses you back and you go slow, giving him time to adjust, letting him slowly take the lead as you let him find his own rhythm, letting him figure out what feels right. his hands rest on your waist, holding onto you and your hands move to rest on his shoulders.

he kisses you back, clumsily at first like he was unsure, but slowly as if he was learning the movements of a dance, he becomes a little more confident. his lips follow yours and his one hand comes up to cup your cheek, pulling you into the kiss even more. your hands slide up into his hair, your fingers threading through the soft strands of his blonde hair, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss even more. the kiss grows more intense, slower now, as if neither of you wants to pull away, and his lips move with more of a certainty now, matching the rhythm of yours.

you pull back just enough to breathe, your forehead resting against his, both of your breaths coming out in soft, uneven gasps and you watch the way his chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. his lips are plump and pink and slightly swollen from the kiss, his cheeks flushed, and there’s an unmistakable glow in his eyes.

“you’re a quick learner,” you say, your voice breathless from the intensity of the kiss and he gives you a shy, almost bashful smile, biting his lip as he looks at you.

“i didn’t expect it to be like that” he trails off, his voice a little low and rough from the kiss, but there’s an undeniable softness in the way he says it.

“you mean good?” you tease, tilting your head slightly, a playful grin forming on your lips as you look at him, your arms resting on his shoulders, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair.

“i think i want to learn more,” he murmurs and you blink at him, the words sinking in, and once they do, you can’t help but laugh softly. soonyoung’s smile grows, his eyes twinkling with both a hint of mischief and something much deeper—something warm. he leans in, kissing you again but you giggle into the kiss and he can’t help but smile against your lips, the warmth of the moment sending a flutter through you.

“kwon soonyoung”, you say his name, your lips brushing against his and he hums in response, capturing your lips in another kiss before you pull away again. you look at him, your fingertips trailing up to his jaw, your thumb lightly brushing over his cheek. he watches you with that soft, adoring gaze, but there’s something playful lurking just beneath it. you catch it and you’re about to say something, but before you can get any words out, he moves.

with a quick, almost effortless motion, he flips you over on the couch. a surprised squeal escapes you, which is quickly replaced by laughter as you land on your back with a soft bounce against the couch. soonyoung grins down at you, his hands on either side of you, his body hovering just above yours. you huff, but the warmth in your chest betrays you. “soons”, you start, looking up at him.

“yes?”, he says, his voice is teasing, his nose brushing against yours, his grin widening when you roll your eyes. his smile is so full of sunshine, of laughter, so infectious and so sincere, so full of everything bright and dizzying.

you sigh dramatically, letting your fingers trail up the back of his neck. “you have a lot learn”, you murmur and he hums, pressing another kiss to your jaw. “then teach me”, he whispers. you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close and he lets out a quiet laugh, burying his face in the crook of your neck. the two of you stay like that, tangled together, his body pressed against yours. his fingers absentmindedly trace little circles on your waist as he holds you. when he lifts his head and looks at you again, there’s something softer in his gaze, something deeper.

“what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper and a smile blooms on his face. “just thinking”, he says.

“about what?”, you ask and his grin widens. “that i really really like you”, he says, and warmth blooms in your chest at his words. your smile softens. “good,” you whisper out. “because i really really like you too”.

and as he holds you there, you realize that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be—wrapped up in his warmth, his laugher. you think that maybe this, right here, is exactly where you’re meant to be.

END

EXTRA SCENE because i went a little insane over him

soonyoung is practically vibrating in his seat as he waits in the arrivals area to pick you up from the airport. his leg is bouncing with restless energy. three weeks. almost three whole weeks since he had last held you, kissed you and seen you. it was only supposed to be a one week trip. and that one week he would have survived. but there were delays and complications in the project you said—and one week turned into three.

he spots you walking out of the terminal, dragging your suitcase behind you, exhaustion evident in the way your shoulders are slumped, your eyes tired. he’s on his feet in an instant and he comes up to you. you don’t even get a chance to get a word out before his arms are wrapping around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. "you’re finally back," he murmurs into your neck. you let out a soft laugh against his shoulder. "i’m back”, you say as you hug him back.

soonyoung pulls back just enough to cup your face, eyes scanning every inch of you as if making sure you were real. "three weeks baby, you almost killed me”, he says dramatically.

"sorry," you tease, smiling softly as your fingers brushed through his hair. "i barely survived without you," he mutters before grabbing your suitcase with one hand and lacing his fingers through yours with the other, pulling you toward the exit. the ride home is filled with him sneaking glances at you every five seconds, his hand still intertwined in yours, a soft grin playing on his lips whenever he catches you watching him back.

when he finally pulls into the driveway, he barely lets you step inside before his hands are on you again, like he couldn't bear to stay apart from you any longer. you enter your apartment and soonyoung trails behind you as he carries you suitcase, placing it to the side and you walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water, incredibly thirsty from the flight.

“god, it’s good to be back”, you say as you chug down a glass of water and put it down on the counter. soonyoung stalks forward, his gaze sharp. “i got you something by the way, it’s in the suitcase and—”, you’re cut off by the way soonyoung walks forward, cupping your cheeks before his lips are on yours. your back hits the wall as he walks you backwards and pins you there, kissing you urgently, hungrily. his hands grip your waist, pressing you into the wall as if he is trying to make up for every second you’d been apart. you gasp softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer and his lips move against yours with desperation.

"soonyoung—" you try to speak between kisses, but he only hums in response, lips trailing down your jaw to the curve of your neck.

"missed you so fucking much," he whispers against your skin, his voice low with need. "i’m never letting you leave for that long again," he murmurs against your lips. his hands tighten around your waist and your bag slips from your shoulder, forgotten on the floor as he captures your lips in another dizzying kiss. his hands slide under your shirt, his fingers splaying across your bare skin, warm and possessive. he grabs your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as your legs wrap around his torso. his lips move down to your jaw, finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear and you let out a soft gasp.

“fuck”, you whimper out softly as he moves, his grip firm as he walks the two of you toward the couch. the world tilts slightly as he sits down, settling you onto his lap, your legs straddling him now, your knees resting on the soft cushion. his hands find your waist again, his thumbs tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin, and when he looks at you, his gaze is dark.

you smirk, tilting your head as your fingers comb through his hair. "what happened to the boy who was absolutely clueless about dating?", you tease, letting your hands slip under his hoodie. your fingers skim over his abs and torso, slow and deliberate, feeling the way his breath stutters at the contact. soonyoung groans softly, his grip on your waist tightening as his body melts into your touch, his head tilting back slightly as he recovers from the sensation.

“i’m a quick learner”, he says after a moment, a small smirk playing on his lips and you chuckle before you lean in. “oh? is that so?" you murmur, your lips brushing against his but not kissing him yet. his lips chase yours, closing the distance as he kisses you again, slower this time—deeper. the way he kisses you is intoxicating—slow but full of purpose, like he’s savoring every second. your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands roam over your body, sliding up your back, down to your hips, squeezing your waist as he pulls you closer until there isn’t any space between the both of you and the warmth of his body seeps into you.

he pulls away, his breath heavy as his chest rises and falls, his gaze locked onto you as he tilts his head back on the couch. soonyoung looks absolutely wrecked. his lips are pink, swollen, kiss bruised and slightly parted as he catches his breath. his usually sharp features are slightly softened by the dazed expression he wears, his pupils blown wide, his hair messy from where your fingers had tugged at it. his gaze flickers down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if he’s debating if he can survive another kiss or if it might just be the end of him.

then a slowly, a lazy, lopsided grin tugs at his lips—the kind of smirk that’s cocky, but still soft. "besides”, he says, voice low, "you’re the one who taught me everything”.

you chuckle at his words and your fingers ghost over his jaw before you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “i guess i’m a pretty good teacher then”, you say softly, tilting your head as you watch him and soonyoung huffs out a soft laugh, but his eyes never leave yours.

his hands tightens around your waist, like he’s deciding something, and he leans in again slowly, his lips ghosting over yours as he speaks. “the best”, he whispers against your lips, before kissing you breathless again.

taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852 @weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @gyubakeries @wheeboo @fxstpace @ylangelegy @lvlystars @kyeomyun @icyminghao @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq @imujings @alsktudy @d-i-y-a-n-a @binnielovie @fancypeacepersona @karynnonna @alyssa19123456 @diamonddaze01 @minhui896 @yoozuku @hyunyin @blue-jisungs

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uhdrienne · 3 days ago

Text

the embodiment of grace and deviousness

⛓️ pairing: seungcheol x f!reader ⛓️ genre: sfw, fluff, angst, mafia au, soulmate au ⛓️ word count: ~8k ⛓️ warnings: mentions of violence, weapons, open wounds. do not interact if it can be triggering! there's going to be cursing too because seungcheol is a grumpy one :") ⛓️ summary: as an author, it's almost poetic that your soulmate tattoo would be a flower. actually... half a flower. a snapdragon, to be exact. the petals on your arm, the vines on seungcheol's. it's even more cliche when you meet him on valentine's day. to you it means grace, but for seungcheol, he still has zero idea on what flower his tattoo is. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious at all, but during this season of love, you're about to figure out exactly what this all means for you and him, the leader of the city's most dangerous mafia.

author's note: suuurprise! to commemorate my first valentines' on this platform, here is a fic, part of @ddeonghwa-s Secret Cupid Event 💌 thank you so much to @ddeonghwa-s for putting this event together, and of course to the wonderful @kpopflowerfield for giving me this opportunity to write for you, i hope you like this as much as i did💘

here is the event masterlist! do support the works of all other authors too, all of them are so so amazing <3 happy valentines' day!!

depending on the POV, italics signify either the author's writing or Seungcheol's thoughts <3

"Territory 13 is acting up again, sir."

"Are they?"

"They're giving trouble. Threatening to cut off our chain supply in the north."

“Hm.”

“We’ve lost a few men fighting them for the past few days. The situation doesn’t seem to be de-escalating, so we reported to you.”

“Nowhere else we can push to weaken them?”

“They seem to have it figured out, sir. They outnumber us at every turn.”

"Well, we can't have that, can we?"

"No, sir."

"You have three hours till dawn. Take the men you need and get it settled. It won't be pretty if I don't get better news by then."

"Yes, sir."

"Go."

He swings his chair around to the fading sky of the night, nursing his glass of amber. He looks down to his full sleeve of black, red, and blue ink. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, like the highlight of a Naturalism painting, a whorl of vines and small, green leaves, linked to the vines of other flowers. He has no idea what it means, has had no idea since the day he got it. Ever since, all he's focused on is getting it covered, blended in with other flowers on his skin.

What is the point of such a mark on his skin, he wonders for the umpteenth time as he runs his hands over the permanent imprint, if the universe won't show me what it means?

He glances at the corner of his screen. 1:30am. 14 February. Hm.

He looks away.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we can proceed with cover design and vetting for you, ma'am."

"Oh... Not possible? At all?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am. Your drafts weren’t given the green light from our Head of Publishing, and our team can't exactly spare the manpower to help you right now."

"...I see. And there’s no one else I can look for? Or….. any contacts you may have?”

“We can try, ma’am, but we can’t promise anything. It’s busy period for us publishers at the moment.”

“Ah. Well, thank you anyway. I hope we can work together in the future."

You put your phone down and sink back into your chair, covering your face with your hands. Your most recent creative co-director pulled out two days ago, another graphic design deal fell through, and now this publishing company. At this rate, you don't know if your book will even ever reach the local bookstore across the street.

You blow out a breath, look down at the only black ink on unblemished skin, the one that's been there since the day you turned 20 years old.... the petals of a snapdragon.

Your phone lights up with a text from a friend, and as you unlock it, the date catches your attention.

14 February. Happy Valentines' Day to you.

Your final straw comes when you're walking home from your office the next night. You rub your tattoo, which has been irritated the whole of today. You have no idea what it means, just that it can't be good for your soulmate bond. But you've never been concerned for him, not the slightest bit, since the day you got the tattoo. Because he's not something you're looking for right now.

Then you hear scuffling, a familiar thing here in the rougher area of town where you live. Your only intention is to walk past and ignore everything. From prior experience, that's the best survival tactic you have: Don't go looking for trouble, and it won't find you.

A man appears on the sidewalk and walks towards you. You walk faster, calculating the distance it takes. Two hundred metres and you'll be under the safety of the street lights. One hundred and fifty. One hundred. The man seems to be getting closer.

You hear a thud. Fuck. What was that?

You squeeze your eyes together and turn around. It sounds stupid, but you'd like to at least see the face of your captor before you see darkness. You read novels about this. When a character gets out of a captor's grasp, they can never tell the police what the kidnappers look like. If now is your time, you won't go down making the same mistake.

Except there isn't a captor nor a body bag. It's just another man, hands in pockets, bending down to survey the unconscious lump on the concrete ground just behind you. He looks at you, the exact moment that you too meet his eyes. And you feel it. At the worst possible time in your life, ever, for crying out loud.

Hundreds, maybe thousands of volts of electricity. A rising and a pop in your head, a sizzling burn on your forearm. Who knew a soulmate bond snapping into place could be this painful? You choke out a gasp as the pain sears, brands itself into your arm. The outline of the flower appears in full glory, the vines entwining itself around your arm as it links with the petals. It's beautiful and horrifying, and you watch as the flower you've been waiting for finally, finally blooms.

Before long, the bloom appears on your forearm. A snapdragon.

The man seems to feel the same thing, as he doubles over in pain, pupils dilated in shock and clutching his arm. His face is covered by his hood so you can't see what he looks like, but he turns and runs, and before long he's disappeared into the darkness.

A few minutes pass before the pain finally subsides, and in its place comes a wave of exhaustion. You sink on the concrete, careful not to stir your unconscious stalker, who's still lying on the ground motionless.

You've found your soulmate. On the day of love.

You touch your mouth when you feel a smile creeping up your face.

--------------------------------

Seungcheol opens his door, barks an order to his guard outside not to disturb him unless "someone is bloody dead", sinks down on a couch and grabs a whisky. He downs it, the burn of the alcohol close to nothing as compared to that of the flower sitting oh-so-innocently on his forearm. He'll never forget the way the snapdragon petals appeared, as if they were burnt into his skin.

He stares at it, remembers the girl who gasped in pain just as he did. He never meant for this to happen. He was only passing by and saw a man from one of the local, problematic gangs sneaking up on you. He only meant to get the man away as he usually would for anyone else, because his principles, despite his rough line of work, never permitted him to disrespect women. He only meant to do one thing and go on his way. He only felt his arm burning right before he turned onto that damn street.

He glares at his arm, like the ordeal is its fault. His hand is shaking. It never shakes.

He didn't mean to feel his bond snap into place, never meant to meet you. He takes another long swig. This is the worst timing ever, he thinks darkly.

Meeting your soulmate on Valentines' Day can't be pure coincidence. If there wasn't a sign before that this was your chance, there very well was now. The next day you come up with a mission plan.

Find the man who is apparently my soulmate

...........

And that's when you sit down and have a good think. What are you even going to do when you do find him, anyway? Get together with him purely because he's meant for you, as the universe dictated? What if he's a rude jerk? What if he's ugly? What if... oh god, what if his breath stinks?

What if... he doesn't like you?

You continue writing on your notepad, absently, mindlessly writing sentences and paragraphs like word-vomit. Before long, you look down on the page to see almost a full journal entry, like you always do when you're anxious or stressed.

"Great," You mutter. "May as well write a book about this."

You enter the bookstore, waving at the little old lady who runs it.

"Good morning," She hums. "What are you looking for?"

You smile, thumbing through the different books on the shelf. "Morning. Something about flowers, maybe? I'm doing research... for a book I'm writing."

She nods. "Perhaps a book that explains the flower on your arm?"

You chuckle. Nothing could ever get past her eyes. "You caught me."

The lady laughs in return. "That," she says, hobbling out from the counter to rummage her inventory, "is a snapdragon. Yours is lovely -- a nice shade of red."

You smile. "Does its colour represent something, too?"

The old lady pulls down a thick book, flips through it and sweeps off the dust on the cover. "Every colour has its representation, but it's also your choice to decide what it means to you." She passes you the book. "In Chinese culture, it means prosperity. It's a lucky colour. For others, it could mean passion and love. It could also mean danger, perhaps courage..."

"Wow," You mumble, flipping through the book. "One colour and thousands of meanings?"

The old lady shrugs. "Colours and nature existed way before we did," She takes the book from you and goes to wrap it up in construction paper. "Is that the tattoo that brings you to your other half?"

"So the world says," You shrug, as you pay for the book. "I had the petals first, so the stem and leaves appeared when I met him, but I don't know where he is... or even what he looks like."

The lady nods in understanding. "I wouldn't worry. You'll find your way back to each other. I'd think that's what the tattoo's for."

"Do you know about them? What do they do?"

"Some stories say they help soulmates detect when one is in danger. Other stories say the closer you are, the warmer it feels... I've never tried."

Huh. You nod. "Thank you. So very much."

There is a soft shimmer of fascination in the old lady's eyes as she waves you goodbye. "I have faith that what's meant for you will come to you in due course, dear. Have a good day now."

------------------------------------

Seungcheol hasn't stopped glowering at his tattoo all day. It looks... out of place. The petals aren't supposed to be there. It looks like an outsider, a strange feeling he can't place. If this is the bond acting up, he surmises, it fucking sucks.

He needs coffee to cure the pounding headache building up.

He orders someone to get his coffee, and as he sits to wait, he taps at his keyboard impatiently, trying to figure out how the tattoo had built up.

The petals came later, he thinks. Is that supposed to mean something?

When his right-hand man, a freckled, tan man comes in with the coffee, Seungcheol is still none the wiser on the phenomenon. So he lowers his guard (for once, he thinks bitterly, for a soulmate bond of all things), and asks the man who's currently laying his coffee cup down. "Lee."

Lee looks up. "Yes, sir?"

"What do you know about soulmate bond tattoos?"

Lee looks visibly excited. "Did you get yours, sir?"

"Asking for a friend," Seungcheol deflects immediately. "So, what do you know about it?"

"I have one, sir," Lee says, and rolls up his sleeve to reveal a... half-faded anchor tattoo. "I was so.... it felt so strange to meet my other half."

"Strange. What was it like?"

Lee shrugs as he sets down a serviette. "Can I speak freely?"

Seungcheol waves at him to go ahead. He's usually the man who acts like he has a stick up his ass, but this time, he wants to find out everything he can about having a soulmate. Just so I don't drag the poor girl down with me for no good reason, he reasons to himself.

"It wasn't all good feelings," Lee explains thoughtfully, hands pausing mid-air. "My soulmate... he was an underground weapons dealer. And you know people in our circle, we don't do feelings. They're liabilities, it's another thing enemies can use against us." He chuckles bitterly. "That was one of the only things we had in common."

Seungcheol doesn't miss the way he's speaking in past tense. "You don't have to explain yourself," He says cautiously.

"No, that's okay," Lee says. "It was a while back. See, I have fading scars to prove that."

"What did it... feel like?"

"It started fading and it hurt so much, I knew something was wrong." Lee shows his arm again.

"What happened?"

Lee shrugs. "He died in an underground turf war. One of those."

Seungcheol makes eye contact. "Did you at least have good days with him?"

Lee looks at him, then looks away. "We did. Almost left the circle for each other, but..." He shrugs again. "Time just wasn't on our side."

"No," Seungcheol agrees. "It wasn't."

His fists clench. So this is what could happen to both parties who were in the circle, nevermind a civilian. He nods. "Thank you for telling me."

Lee gives him a half-smile. "So is this about your tattoo?"

"Y- No, for my friend," Seungcheol replies, cursing himself at the slip-up.

"I see," Lee says, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. Seungcheol knows Lee doesn't believe him. As his right-hand man for years, how could he not see through Seungcheol? He starts walking towards the door. "Well, tell your friend that if there's anything I learnt, it's that time is a bitch. There's going to be a lot of fear, and it won't be pretty. But... take it from me," He smiles sadly. "It's going to feel worse when you don't treasure time and lose them. After all...." He opens the door. "I lived to tell the tale."

When the door closes behind him, Seungcheol leans back into his chair and rubs his temples.

"Some soulmates you find in the lecture hall of your school. Some you find along the way of life. Some... are pre-ordained by the universe, in the form of a snapdragon tattoo.

But are these... pre-meditated, pre-planned people meant to stay?"

You put down your pen.

You're curious. At the world, for giving you a person. How that system came about. About your soulmate. What he's like, what he looks like.

But there's no straightforward way to find him. No instruction manual that tells you where to go and what to do.

You decide to take a walk that evening. No distance limit. Just wherever your feet takes you.

And it brings you to this cafe on a street you've never been, with soft music and oak furniture, and a smiley, freckled and tan man behind the counter grins at you. "Welcome to Choi's."

"Hello," You say, smiling a bit. "Could I get a latte, and... that croissant? It looks amazing."

"Of course," He says, before turning to another burly staff that just appeared. "Get her a latte, will you?"

The staff nods, and disappears behind the coffee machine.

You take a seat, and hum as you wait. When the pastry and drink appear on your table, you thank the staff and look down to see the milk foam in the shape of a heart. Mmm. You take a sip, already feeling a lot better.

The bell jingles, and a man steps in, hands in his pockets. and heads for the counter. By force of habit, you look up and send him a cursory glance. And then you freeze. The man has rolled up his sleeves as he speaks to the staff, as if they already know each other, and on his arms....

A full tattoo sleeve of flowers. Zinnias, dahlias, rhododendrons, and in the centre, a whorl of vines leading to the most prominent flower. It looks fresh, like it was inked in a mere five minutes earlier.... in a shade of brilliant red... a snapdragon.

It's him.

The man must have excellent situational awareness because he acutely notices someone staring at him and he turns to you. Your shell-shocked face, your trembling hands... and his eyes fall on your forearm.

Choi Seungcheol had never felt this thunderstruck, not even when he found out half his men had been bought over by rivals years ago. He knows he'll never forget this feeling.

So he does the next best thing. He excuses himself from his staff and leaves.

So you get up and run after him.

Seungcheol's in the middle of cursing himself and the world out when he hears your voice calling for him.

"Sir...?"

He can pretend he doesn't know you're calling him. Sure. He can do that. Keep on walking, Seungcheol.

Until he hears running, and a tap on his shoulder. Ah.

He swallows, closes his eyes, and turns around. "Yes?" He asks coldly.

Ah. So he's not in the habit of making conversation, you think. "I'm really sorry about this, but can I...."

"Can you what?" Seungcheol replies, even though he already knows what you're going to say.

"Can I see your arm? For a second? I just wanted to make sure I wasn't seeing wrongly."

"No, you may not."

You cringe. Silence dwindles between both of you. "Uh... right."

Seungcheol reaches for his car key. "Why do you want to see my arm, love?" He casts a cursory glance at your arm. "To see if I'm your soulmate?"

You look down, then at him. "...Yeah. I got this tattoo, and I don't know what my soulmate looks like, so..."

"So you're trying to find him in me, huh?" Seungcheol doesn't mean to be rude, but this is the only way to get you off his back, at least until he knows how to move forward. The least he can do is to warn you. "News flash, love. I'm just a man who enjoys flowers. But me as your soulmate?" He chuckles and presses a button. From a distance, his car makes a beeping sound and unlocks. "I highly doubt it. You'll need to know who we are before you enter our world."

"And who are you?" The words come out before you can stop them.

Seungcheol supposes it doesn't hurt to establish who he is, just so you'll have enough sense to stay away.

"The mafia, love," He says softly, as he walks towards his car. "I'm the leader, here. I'd advise you to stay away from me, soulmate or otherwise."

When his car pulls away, you sigh and look at your tattoo.

The biggest joke the universe could have pulled on you. Making a mafia leader, out of 8 billion other people, your soulmate.

When he reaches home, Seungcheol reaches for his phone. When Lee answers, Seungcheol gives him a long list of things to do, for the cafe and for the mafia.

"Has anyone caught on the cafe yet?" He asks.

"Nope," Lee answers. "It was a good front to keep track of the public, but it seems like a normal cafe to them. So I'd say everything's fine, boss."

"Good."

"Anything else?" Lee says.

"....One more thing." Seungcheol says, sighing through his nose. "A girl came to the cafe tonight."

"...Uh-huh."

"The girl in the white cardigan and jeans."

"Right."

"Warn her not to divulge who we are and what the cafe really is. With any luck, she'll figure out that the cafe is protecting us."

"Protecting us..." Lee gasps. "Sir, you told her who you are? Why?"

"To get her to leave me alone," Seungcheol mutters. "Anyway, just tell her to zip her mouth. I don't care how you do it."

He regrets the words once they exit his mouth. "Just don't hit her or anything. We're not in that business."

A soft laugh comes over the phone. "She your soulmate or something, boss?"

Seungcheol pinches his nose. "So she thinks. Just because we have a matching..."

An idea hits him. "Do me another favour."

"Name it, boss."

"Find out where she was last night. Just to make clear something for me."

"You got it."

A knock on your door sounds in the middle of the night. When you open the door, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you flinch when two burly guys flanking the same freckled, tan man from the cafe last night step in your doorway.

"Uh...you're from the cafe, aren't you?"

"I thought a familiar face might help matters," The freckled man says. "My name's Lee. And you?"

You introduce yourself cautiously, but you look at the two men. "So... what the man said yesterday was true? You're not really a cafe, are you?"

Lee shrugs. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with, anyway." He nods to the men. "We just came here to give a little warning."

You have a feeling you already know. "What warning?"

"Don't pry, and don't tell," Lee says, still smiling, but you sense the underlying threat within. "I don't know what business you have with us, but it should end now." He nods at you. "For both yours and our good."

The burly man on the left makes a point of nodding towards your home. "We know where you live, and we can find you no matter where you go. Don't complicate things for yourself. You won't like what comes next."

And they leave, leaving you shaking in the doorway. Anger courses through you. Your soulmate sent people after you to push you away.

You don't know everything about soulmate bonds, but what you do know is that soulmates are drawn to each other: to protect, and to take care of. Either your soulmate is very, very clueless; or he just doesn't want anything to do with you. You have to find out which answer it is before you decide whether to let go of him or not.

Alright, Mr. Mafia Boss, you clench your teeth. I don't have to deal with your mafia directly to get an audience with you. Let's see how far this game can go.

Moonlight slants through his ceiling-to-floor windows. Seungcheol grits his teeth as he watches the surveillance that Lee found for him. You, walking home the night of 14 February, around 10pm, going faster and faster as that son-of-a-bitch followed you. His arms rest on his chair as he sees himself appear and knock the guy out cold.

He sighs. So it really was you. He'd recognise that face anywhere.

He looks at his tattoo once more, hating how perfectly it entwines with the rest of his tattoos. So much for covering it up. He turns his arm around again and again. It's exquisite, but it lies there like a burden.

And it picks the perfect timing to start burning. Seungcheol grunts in pain, clutching his arm as it burns, sears with the same pain it did that night. He doesn't know how the system came about, but what he knows is this: You're in danger. And as annoyed as he is about this whole situation, he has to find you. If only to make the pain stop.

He reaches for his telephone, and when the other line picks up he hisses: "Find her. Now. Scour all the surveillance in the city. I don't care what you have to do, but find her."

He can hear his man barking out orders in the background, and he shakily puts the phone down. Lee comes bursting into the room, grabs Seungcheol's arm to check on him. Normally, Seungcheol would have the head of anyone who dared to touch him without permission, but given Lee's position in this predicament, he allows him to.

"Is it supposed to be like this?" Seungcheol groans out. "It hurts like hell."

"Yup," Lee mutters. "It is. Looks and seems exactly like mine whenever Bri got into danger."

"Danger--" Seungcheol scowls and tries getting up. "You mean she's injured?"

Lee shrugs. "I don't know if it extends to normal minor situations, but whenever Bri got into a fight, I'd feel my arm burning."

"Her, fight. Don't make me laugh," Seungcheol scoffs, then grunts again as another wave of pain hits him. "She looks like she couldn't hurt a fly."

"We've located her, boss," Another man comes into the room, holding a laptop towards him.

"Where?"

When silence answers him, he hisses. "I didn't ask you this question for you to not fucking reply. I asked where?"

"The border of Territory 7, sir."

"What the hell is she doing there? Is she an underworld member, too?" Lee wonders out loud.

Seungcheol pushes himself up off his seat, wincing as his arm throbs slightly. "Fuck if I know. But I guess I have to find her if I want this pain to stop."

"I'll get men and go with you," Lee starts, but Seungcheol waves him off. "No need. We don't need to stir up a fuss, not when the territories are already misbehaving these few weeks. I'll get her, and... figure it out later."

You're tapping your foot as you wander the edges of the city's largest turf. It's well-known that civilians shouldn't pass by here if they want to get home alive and well, but with the recent news of unrest stirring in such turfs, you figure that it's the best way to seek Seungcheol out. It's stupid, but it's your best bet. Plus, you figure that the nearer you are to

You must be near a group of militants on patrol duty, because you can hear hushed orders and boots crunching. You sigh and look at your watch.

"Are you actually stupid?"

You raise your head. "So it worked. So nice of you to join me this evening."

Seungcheol storms towards you. "So you tricked me?"

"Wasn't a trick." You mutter. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"You are a nutcase," He seethes, as he grabs your arm and starts dragging you away. "Do you have any idea what would happen if anyone caught you? These few places are red-light districts now. You're not supposed to be here."

"I wouldn't know. You came anyway."

Seungcheol lets you go and huffs at you. "Go home, and don't get any more stupid ideas. Yes, I'm your soulmate. Yes, my tattoo is also a snapdragon, and I guess I can sense when you're in places you shouldn't be because my arm fucking burns, okay? Got your answer?"

"No," You say defiantly. "I haven't found out one thing. Why were you so desperate to deny that you weren't my soulmate? But you still came running anyway."

"This," He hisses, stepping closer to you, "is a pain in my ass. I can't work if my tattoo's going to start hurting every half hour. So for god's sake, please stay out of anything that doesn't concern you. Do not run into a lion's den to get an audience with me."

"So you're going to give me a way to contact you?" You shrug. "Sure, if that will keep me from making rash decisions."

Seungcheol furrows his brows. "What gave you that idea?"

"Well, you can't think I'm going to let you go after all of this, do you?"

What??

"Did I not make myself clear en-"

"Oh, you did," You say. "Like you said, you came running because you could sense I was somewhere I shouldn't be. So you can't stay away no matter how much I piss you off, can you?"

"I nev-"

"That's how soulmates work, Mr. Mafia Boss." You say smugly. "We can't stay away from each other, like a moth can't stray from the light."

Seungcheol scowls at you and then proceeds to maintain a ten-second glaring competition until he blows out a breath.

"Ten more reasons why I hate this bond so much," He mutters, before pulling out a business card and shoving it into your hands. "I've got ground rules. Don't call me for stupid reasons. Do not call to ask me out privately. Do not give my number to anyone for any reason. No exceptions, unless you want a bullet through your brain."

"Did you just threaten to shoot me...." You peruse the business card. "Choi Seungcheol?"

"Yes, and what about it?"

"You know nothing about being a gentleman."

"Never said I was one. Get in the car."

"You''re going to shoot me in there? With the expensive leather?"

"I will if you don't keep your mouth shut and start moving."

You zip it and follow him.

Success. You've met your soulmate. (You're sitting in his car, too.)

He said you couldn't call. But texting exists, so.... You're determined to bug him until he takes notice.

"It's me."

He leaves you on read.

The next day you add another message. "I guess I'll write to an empty chatroom. I'm doing good, I just had a sandwich for breakfast and I'm going to continue writing now."

5pm: "I'm done with my next chapter. Trying to find an illustrator for the cover. I'm craving soup."

11pm: "goodnight! hope your work or whatever's going well. You can't tell me anything about what you're doing?"

And so it continues, for a full three days, with silly texts about a sentence error you wrote, or a funny thing you ate, or asking him what he's doing at work, until you get a single response from him that has you rolling your eyes: "Be quiet."

You do not, to Seungcheol's chagrin, keep quiet.

He didn't think you could talk so much to someone who never replied. In a week he'd all but figured out your life pattern: wake up, eat, write (he had no idea what you were writing), find publishers and illustrators, take a walk maybe in the late afternoon, eat again, and write until it was time to sleep. You lead an awfully idyllic life compared to him, he thinks as he closes your text.

You also seem to have a love for soup, he realises. The weirdest fucking craving.

And croissants from his fake cafe. You sent him photos of it across the week, and he wonders how you never get tired of the damn thing. Your food cravings change from soup to something else every now and then, getting more bizarre with each one. (Pasta with pickles? Really?)

It was cute. (He cursed himself out after thinking about it.)

And so it goes for two more weeks until Seungcheol decides this has to stop. He texts you back for once, and you're elated as you read his text.

"Be ready Saturday night. Zip it for now, will you? I'm trying to work."

You're waiting outside your house when he pulls up. You already know that he knows exactly where you live, so you never bothered texting him your address. You get in once he stops the car, his grumpy face still on full display.

"Thanks for taking me out," You say, smiling at him, and he grunts as he pulls out and steps on the accelerator. "Isn't that exactly what you wanted?"

You shrug. "And you gave in. Is that a soulmate thing?"

"I will drop you off right this second if you say 'soulmate' one more time." He threatens.

He rubs the sleeve covering the skin on which his tattoo lies, and you frown. "Is it causing you trouble? I haven't gone anywhere weird recently, though."

"No. And you better not have."

He doesn't say much after that, simply drives about twenty minutes to a sleek, al fresco restaurant. The neon lights, warm-looking space draws you in, and when you read the menu outside while waiting for him to park...

"Soup? So you did read my texts!"

"You won't shut up about it. A little hard to miss it even if I wanted to."

You chuckle and flip through the menu. "So what're you getting?"

"You pick, you're the one craving soup of all things," He mutters absently. "Don't really care. Just came to get a message across."

"What is it?"

"Sit first before I tell you."

And so you do. He lets you get tomato soup and grilled cheese, pasta and a soda, and says absolutely nothing. He eats a little, rolling his eyes at the amount you inhale. Finally, you put down your fork. "So what did you want to tell me?"

He swallows his water before putting the glass down. "Just one thing."

You cock your head. "I'm listening."

"Why are you contacting me personally, so often? I'm sure I said not to do that."

"You said not to call," You reply, smiling. When he looks like he's about to protest, you smile again. "So I texted."

"You're fucking impossible," He mutters.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"Nothing. Anyway, stop that. I'm a busy man."

"I know. That's why I text, like, three times in a day. It's not a lot, is it?"

His hand comes down on the table, not loud enough to cause a scene but firm enough to catch your attention. "I don't have the time to entertain you, Miss Y/N. You know who I am, and that was my fault, and I think it would do you good to remember that."

"Pulling the mafia leader card on me, again?" You sigh and shake your head. "I don't know what you do, and you won't tell me. I write about people like you and mobsters. You're exactly what I write in my books."

"I am not one of your little book characters," Seungcheol hisses back. "I am not a work of fiction or something you pull out of your imagination and twist about like your plaything. I am real, and I am someone who can hurt you if I want to. And I don't owe you any information. Stop bothering me, got it?"

"Is that why you brought me here?" A surge of confidence and defiance grips you. He couldn't have taken you out to somewhere he knew you'd enjoy for no reason.

He scowls. “I can go wherever I want. Don’t read too much into it.”

You grin. “Sure.”

He nods.

“So can I continue messaging you?”

He groans. “Did you not get any of what I just said?”

You shrug. "Guess you’ll have to tell me a few more times.”

He sighs loudly, and his fingers drum the table as he seemingly goes deep into thought. The scowl is almost becoming a permanent fixture on his face, you think.

After a long moment, he groans and utters: “Next Sunday. 6pm.”

He takes you out two more times. The next Sunday, to a small restaurant you chose. This time he ate better, the consistent strain in his forehead almost easing as he bit into the lasagna.

He answered your questions, albeit grumpily, and when you got off his car that night, you thought, as you opened your journal up again, that he was finally, finally warming up to you.

But the next time he brings you out, he is visibly in a stormy mood, barely making conversation and stabbing his meat with his fork.

“Is there something wrong?” You ask.

“No.”

And there the conversation ends.

As dessert rolls in, you try one more time.

“So… how’s work lately?”

“Fine.”

“Ah.”

Please talk. Please.

“You know, I always wonder what a mafia boss does,” You pick up your spoon. “Like, order kills or something?”

Seungcheol picks up his glass. “I remember telling you not to ask about what I do.”

“And you don’t have to give me a full answer,” You shrug. “I’m just asking for a general idea. I thought it’d be nice if I got to know what you do.”

Seungcheol sits back in his seat. "Don't read too much into what I do, love." He takes another sip of water. "You can't honestly think I'm interested in you enough to reveal myself after a few meals. You said you're a writer. You shouldn't be this easy to lie to, you know that?"

Yeah, screw this.

Any confidence you had sizzles out. Easy to lie to. He thinks you're a gullible, small girl eating up every morsel of attention he deigns to give you when he feels like it. Red-hot, burning humiliation and shame rise in you.

After a long pause, you nod. "Alright. Fine. I get it. I apologise for occupying your time."

He surveys you for a second, then nods, like he just made a good business deal. "Just so we make things clear with each other."

"Crystal," You reply, no warmth in your words. "I think I finally got what you wanted to say. I thought you just weren't used to this... idea of having a soulmate, so I wanted to warm you up to it. But now I see you never wanted one in the first place."

Seungcheol furrows his brows just a fraction.

You push your chair back. You're careful not to look or seem angry, in part not to show him you're affected, and also to just... save face. He already embarrassed you. No need to do it again in public. "Take care, Mr. Choi. Thanks for putting up with me, anyway. It won't happen again. I’ll get the bill."

Soulmate, my ass.

----------------------------------

It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to turn out this way.

Glass meets the plaster of the wall. His tattoo lies there, barren, lacking its usual warmth even though nothing was taken away.

----------------------------------

Ladies and gentlemen, this is perhaps how the story goes. He pushed her away, and she realised how the universe’s plan, this whole concept, had utterly failed. There were never meant to be pre-ordained people. People change, and oftentimes they disappoint…

The journal remains open, the last sentence discontinued.

T w o M o n t h s L a t e r

Soft, oozing vocals of Clara Bow fill your apartment as you pack your writing materials. You're done writing for the day.

You glance at the clock. Nine p.m. In time for a snack and TV before you head to bed.

When you turn on the TV, the news catches your attention. Another territory struggle, another turf battle for control. You shake your head and switch the channel. Typical.

As you settle down into the cushions with chips and a glass of white wine, sudden searing pain, hot and white and agonising, shoots down your arm. You gasp and grasp it in your other hand, almost keeling over at how painful it is.

Something is wrong. Very, very, wrong.

You sink to the floor, clutching your arm and sweat starting to bead your forehead. It hurts, your arm hurts, everything hurts.

Is Seungcheol in trouble?

His name card. Right. You can just find out for yourself, and if he asks, you could just say the tattoo's causing you a lot of pain. Yes. That's it.

You stagger to your drawers to find his card, messing everything up in the process. You fumble for your phone and dial his number, again and again and again, but all you’re greeted with is a beep and an automated voice instructing you to leave a message.

You don’t know what to do. No emergency contact, no one you can find… hell, you don’t even know where he is. As you’re standing, getting ready to run out and search, there's a pounding on your door.

You barely make it to the door and open it, and there stands the freckled, tan man whose name you never got. He looks awkward, eyes racing to your tattoo. "I'm sure you must be in a lot of pain," He says. "Mr. Choi ordered me to check on you."

"Check on me?" You almost wheeze. "What's going on that my arm hurts this badly?"

Lee shakes his head. "Not right now. We will talk in the van."

"Of course you can't say." You snap, patience wearing thin, temper as riled up as the pain in your arm. You're done with his secrets. "I can't know what he's doing, I can't know where he is, or if he's alive or dead, even if the pain he's causing may very well kill me too."

"You won't die," Lee says, a little more kindly. "If this comforts you, my soulmate's gone, and I'm still here."

Your anger evaporates a fraction. "I'm sorry about that."

"No need to be." Lee sighs, then reaches his own arm out. "Hold on to me, I won’t do anything weird. I'll take you to him. He's going to be a bitch when he sees you, but... I think it would be good for both of you. More often than not, distance breaks things apart."

"He's enough of a bitch even when I'm around," You mumble, but you take his arm anyway as he helps you out.

Without much effort, he gets you into the van he came in, and barks out an order to the curious men inside to drive into what he calls "The Heart".

"What's the Heart?" You ask, as he passes you a canteen of water to drink from.

"It's what it sounds like. The heart of our territory." Lee explains, eyes trained in front. "Mr. Choi's there when we... have scuffles, and that's usually the place where security is tightest, so he can be near to us to get updates and give orders, and still not get into danger."

"So he is a leader."

"He is, and one of those you wouldn't want to cross. He's quick with his work, and he can resort to getting his hands dirty if he has to. His network and connections are... frighteningly impressive, to say the least."

"Funny how I'm hearing it from you and not him," You huff as you lay your head back, trying not to think about the pain.

"He hasn't had the experience of telling people about his life, Miss," Lee chuckles. "But I figured you'll know eventually, so better sooner than later, right?"

"Sooner than later?"

"You're meant to stick around him, Miss. For the good and bad. You're his soulmate, after all."

"I don't know if we'll get there." You sigh, and close your eyes. "Is he badly hurt? Will me being there even help matters?"

Lee shrugs. "We'll find out."

Lee gets six men to flank you both as he walks you in. Up ahead, there's a building seemingly made of unforgiving steel, it's blank canvas looming in the dark red, streaked sky.

"That's the Heart?"

"That’s the one. Unpenetrable, Miss. Let's go in."

You pray for all your sakes it really is as Lee takes you up into the elevator. When he opens one of the (almost) hundreds of similar doors to lead to an empty, cell-like room, and inside sits Seungcheol, with a red fabric pressed---

"You're bleeding," You blurt. The pain in your arm subsides just a fraction, perhaps jarred by the sensation of finally, finally, meeting him.

He looks up, eyes twisting in furious shock as he glares at Lee, and then you (you don’t know why). "Exactly which part of my order did you not understand, Lee?"

Lee bows his head in apology. "I'll never take away a chance to meet your soulmate away, you know that, sir."

Seungcheol scowls hard, and you're almost afraid he's going to shoot Lee there and then.

"Get out."

Lee smiles, ushers you in and walks out. "I'll be back in half an hour to report. I'll call for the doctor again."

You bend and peel aside the fabric. Once white, it's now soaked red, it's warmth unsettling. There's blood, so much of it, and on his once unblemished skin now contains a mess of open flesh, blood, and a...

A bullet.

"A gun." You mumble.

"Try not to throw up." He replies, ever-so-gently nudging you away. "This is Armani."

"You jerk."

His face twists in surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." The anger is returning. "You say all sorts of fucking nonsense to keep me away, and we meet again months later because you're shot. And that may be a normal day for you, Mr. Choi, but us civilians don't go about our day-to-day expecting a bullet hole to appear in our skin."

His hand clenches up.

"This is why I said everything I did," He snarls in return, putting more pressure on his wound. "I knew I would never want you to try to handle what I am!"

"You never let me try," You hiss. "You refused to tell me anything, to let me see what your life was like. No, you chose to shut me out! And don't you dare tell me what I can or can't handle."

He huffs. "I see no reason in dragging you, or anyone else, in when it isn't needed."

"Yet Lee brought me here tonight." You point out. "He knows something you clearly don't."

"Lee is a nosy fucker." He snaps.

"He's someone who's experienced it all. His soulmate is gone, Seungcheol."

"And look at the pain it caused him. At least if anything happens to me, it's no love lost for you."

"Shut up."

"What?"

"I said shut up. Sometimes people want to help you. Sometimes people wouldn't actually mind, I don't know, going into this Heart place to check on you. Sometimes, you need to get it into your thick skull that I actually want to be here, to make sure you don't die while this stupid snapdragon is burned into me!"

His eyes meet yours.

"But you won't get it!" You chuckle. "You send men to check on me when I’m in pain, but I doubt you have any intention of finding me after all this gets better."

"You think I wanted to?" He shoots back.

"And you think I had it all settled for me? That I was better off not knowing the person that was meant for me, this whole time?"

"I never wanted that." Seungcheol insists hotly. "Look at my world, it's a mess, a violent place, a--"

"And there has to be a reason I'm the one picked out!" You defend. "Do you have any idea what snapdragons stand for?"

When he doesn't reply, you continue. "It stands for grace and strength. I can handle all of this. I'm not meant to measure up with your headstrong personality anyway."

"Then what are you meant for?" He asks, tone now soft, dejected.

"To complement you," You reply. You've never been this sure in your life. "To make up for the traits you lack. I'm not supposed to be as strong, or as fierce as you are. I'm meant to... ground you. That's what soulmates are. To... allow each other's strengths to shine and make up for what they don't have yet."

Seungcheol goes quiet.

"And you?" He asks, after a long pause. "What do I complement you in?"

You survey him again. "That's something I can't discover yet, because you won't let me."

“So what do you suggest?” He continues.

“No more hiding. Show me who you are. No restraint, I don’t need you to keep anything secret.”

“What if you end up like Lee?”

“Then it would have been a life well spent, at least.”

Seungcheol grunts with effort as he leaves his seat and stumbles to you. "And if I obeyed, and let you in?"

You look at him square in the eye. "Then it would be my honour to stand with you... or in the shadows, or wherever you make me stand."

"This sounds a lot like an induction of one of my men," Seungcheol murmurs. "I don't want that."

"Then what do you want?" You ask softly.

Seungcheol looks down at you, emotions warring in his eyes. After a while, he slumps and turns away. “Fuck. I can’t do this to you.”

“Tell me what you want, Seungcheol,” You say quietly. “You order people around for a living. I’m telling you to be honest with me, too.”

"…You. With me. Wherever you, or I, want to be."

You shrug a little as he cups your face. "I can live with that."

"You better," Seungcheol mumbles, as his mouth finds yours at last, burning more than any wretched tattoo, warmth spreading to your fingertips. "After everything you just said... I don't imagine you're going anywhere for a while."

February 14, 2026

The doctor came to patch him up. His hand squeezed yours hard as the bullet was finally pried out of him.

It's honestly a blur to you now when you think about it, but all you remember is his eyes boring into yours, his unwavering, callused grip on your hand.

"The snapdragon symbolises strength and grace reflected in their tall, strong stems, blooms and resistance to colder temperatures. Others believe they also represent deception and deviousness.

She embodied grace. She was his missing piece, the trait he needed to complement his headstrong nature. But he also needed someone strong enough to stand with him, through every obstacle his work throws him in. And she... she needed his courage and unwavering will to stand with her through it all."

You put the pen down. Mmm. Not too bad for a closing chapter. You send a text to the new publishing house that you contacted two weeks ago. They had seen your draft, and they loved it. Two weeks from now, when everything is settled, you promise yourself, you will show Seungcheol. He'd been curious for a while now about what holed you up in your writing room.

"Love?"

You look up from biting into your croissant. "Well, look who's back from Sicily. How did the meetings go?"

Seungcheol smiles and opens his arms. "Not too bad. I suppose the love you share for novels, along with the Don's* wife, was a selling point. She was most keen on sending you," He cocks his head to the pile of books at his feet, "this. She said it'd make a good Valentines' gift, since I've been poor at accompanying you these few months."

"That sounds perfect. We're both suckers for romances."

As you sink into his embrace, the tattoo once again burns, but it's not the passionate, red-hot zealous heat. It's warm, comforting, like a hot chocolate in winter.

He sighs. "Happy Valentines', love. I'm going to lose my girl to a bunch of fictional mafia men again?"

"You know it."

"I still don't understand why. You have one right here, next to y-"

"Softer! Do you want the whole town to hear you?"

fin.

*Don = the highest role in an organised crime family

thank you for reading 💟

225 notes · View notes

jollyhunter · 3 days ago

Text

♡ MILKSHAKE FOR TWO ♡

LOVERBOY ! SOLDIER BOY / BEN x fem!Reader [Happy Valentine’s Day!!]

WARNING Fluff, (some) plot, Angst (bearable), Smut - NSFW - MDNI!; fingering, a lil' spankin', biting, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it!), softdom!Ben (gasp!), faking orgasm, Ben reprimanding you, aftercare (Ben's way lol), strong language, basically just a general warning for Soldier Boy, no use of Y/N

⋆ ˚｡⋆ NOTE Okay sweethearts, this is my first time writing for Soldier Boy so please be lenient with me. 😭 Getting this man's colorful speech feel right as a non-native English is a real challenge lmao

After reading the Loverboy!Ben Headcanons by @lovedahlia I finally found the courage to pick this idea up again! And thanks @zepskies Coffee Shop Hadcanons for inspiring me with the sweet ending!! (and the pussy drink 💀)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY The lovey-dovey atmosphere around Valentine's Day did little to ease your ache. To put it blunt; Lately your love life's been... let's say dull. Since for whatever reason getting off was turning out to be frustratingly difficult. Or more like, impossible; You just outlast any man in bed.

Well, except maybe for the cocky bastard of a supe seated across of you… Who you’d just made a bet with.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS ~7.4k [my longest fic so far!? 😭]

♡ MILKSHAKE FOR TWO ♡

One, two, three, five - now another orgasm. You lost count. He keeps rocking his hips as you ride another one of your highs out, his cock throbbing inside you -

“Is it hot?” Ben’s gravely voice throws you right off your imaginary man, eyes snapping up at him with a look of panic and confusion.

The warm scent of weed wafts through the musky air and hits your nose, reminding you of your situation; Right. You’re here to ‘babysit’ Soldier Boy while he’s meticulously rolling joints and taking a swig of his beer every now and then.

“W-what?” Your thumb quickly swipes away the fanfic on your phone’s screen, feigning innocence.

“The picture of your boyfriend’s dick.” He replies. The motel’s dim light frames the intense gaze occasionally drifting toward you, a teasing smile tugging at his beard when he continues. “Can’t ignore the way you’ve been practically eye-fucking that thing for the past six joints.” He jerks his chin at the phone now tightly clasped under your hands likes it’s holding all your sins in one place.

“What- that’s not- no- what the hell.” You stutter, while you’re secretly relieved that his mind took a different direction.

“Hm,” he grunts, unconvinced, his eyes briefly closing. You tense up in the couch when his elbows slide off the table, now resting on his spread legs, his head tilting your way. “What’s it then, huh? Internet?”

Ah yes, you were looking at internet. Hughie had mentioned the word to him some days ago, but no one seems to have had the patience – or guts – to properly explain it to him. You smirk to yourself, but keep the mocking comment back. You didn’t want to risk him snatching your phone away again, as he had done many times before just to annoy you.

“Yeah, internet. It’s like a – a library, but digital, you know?” You try to explain. Your hands casually let the phone disappear in your jeans’ back pocket while you make sure to keep the discussion going. “How do you even know about dickpics? My gramps sure as hell wouldn’t know.”

“Oh fuck off.” He throws you a half-arsed scowl over the edge of his canted beer, “I basically invented it. The concept of showing off your dick to your girl ain’t that goddamn new-fangled.” He sneers the word ‘new-fangled’, his free hand waving dismissively in your direction.

The frown on his lips shifts into a crooked smile at what seems to be a particularly fond memory popping up in his mind. Cute, it suits him.

“I once had Warhol print my dick in the colors of the American flag. Surprised Countess with one on every fuckin’ wall.”

“Wow.” You can’t help but shake your head and crack a laughter at the mental image. “I bet she was ecstatic.”

“Oh you can bet my nutsack. That night we fucked like bunnies. Skeeted those paintings. Redecorated the whole damn thing.” He grins like a proud boy before his fond smile suddenly flips, “Now the bitch’s gargling dirt.”

The air thickened and your chest tightens. Only the sound of his fingers briefly strangling the neck of his beer bottle fills the tense silence in the room.

Your eyes drift to the ground, scrambling for something to say to steer the conversation away from his dead ex - but he beats you to it.

Ben has let out a heavy sigh after he took a swig, the beer bottle now tipped in your direction.

"So. No boyfriend then, huh?" He muses before he tilts his head, his lips curling into a smug smirk, “Gonna spend your national fuck day all alone with a pillow between your legs?”

“I- I’m not spending my - as you call it so colourfully - ‘national fuck day’ with a pillow between my legs. Thank you very much.”

“No? Not gonna rawdog it while you’re thinking of me?”

Your eyes widen at that wild accusation - not that he was wrong about the latter assumption. But you certainly wouldn’t let him know that.

Your cheeks flush slightly and you quickly force your parted lips into a firm, tight line. “For your information. I’ll not spend my day all sad and pathetic home alone but will be going out to Jerry’s Coffeehouse and treat myself with an extra large matcha milkshake with chocolate chips and loads of vanilla syrup. And it’ll be my best fucking Valentine’s day.”

His eyebrow pops up at that, his sharp eyes observing you for a moment as if he’s considering something, his expression a mixture between amusement and something else which you can’t quite read.

After a moment his lips quirk, voice confident, but there’s also a hint of curiosity hidden behind it, “Ah, that’s a code word for you rounding the bases, hm? Get yourself a sweet fuckin’ home run. All Turn-Down and the whole nine yards.”

“What? No – agh - Not everything’s about sex, Ben.” You groan and drag a hand down your face, trying your best to hide the tinge of bitterness in your voice. “Unlike me, I bet you wouldn’t survive a day without jerking off if I wasn’t cockblocking you with my mere presence.”

“And I bet I could ruin you real fast if you didn’t act like a little tight-folded nun around me all the time.”

Your breath catches in your throat for a moment. In all these weeks, Ben never made a move on you. Not even a single attempt at flirting with you. To the point that - even though you knew you shouldn’t - you started to wonder whether it was your looks or your personality you’d have to blame for.

So, yes, you have indeed acted rather, let’s say, ‘reserved’ around Ben.

But that wasn’t because you were appalled by the thought of what he could do to you with you sprawled out beneath him, all open and inviting. Quite the contrary. It was because you liked the thought, but also didn’t want to fall for yet another man who’d just use you for his pleasure.

So you made sure to keep him at an arms length.

“Jesus, you’re so damn vulgar.” You utter, your back slumped against the couch’s armrest while you try your best to act unaffected by his words, “ You kiss a lady with that dirty mouth of yours?”

“What’s the deal with you chicks? I ain’t friggin' Cary Grant, y’know?” He takes a messy swig of his beer and briefly wipes his beard with the back of his hand, “Y’all so damn sensitive.”

“Yeah, I wish.” You grumble, the words slipping your lips before you can give them a second thought.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t believe me, sweetheart?”

“You know what? Yeah.” You retort out of nowhere, purely driven by all the pent-up frustration of the past months. Straightening up, you proceed to make it worse in such a confident tone which even surprises yourself, “I bet my ass that I could outlast you in bed.”

It was frustrating. And felt embarrassing. Really. It didn’t help that you tried to sell it as if it was an achievement worth an oscar.

"Well, that just proofs it then."

"Proofs what?"

"That you're a wuss-fucker. Just some pathetic fucking dicks dippin' in there." Ben jerks his head towards the spot hidden between your tightly crossed legs and he snorts in amusement at your grimace. "What? ‘Tis a real shame’s all I’m sayin’. I mean, what real man doesn't make sure his girl gets off first.” He leans back and sneers against the mouth of his beer bottle, “'S pathetic, really."

"Yeah, right." you roll your eyes, your voice tighter, "'Cuz I bet you're such a gentleman in bed. But you can't proof shit."

“Oh you’re on.” He quickly sets down the bottle and flashes his cocky grin at you, his voice dropping an octave to hit that tingling spot inside you, “I’ll have you cum so damn hard, you’ll be screamin’ and kickin’ while I hold ya down. And guess what, sweetheart…”

He pushes off the chair, his large frame looming over you before he bends down to your eye-level, his voice dipping into a low, deep gravelly tone, “I ain’t gunna let ya move a single inch… and have you take it like a good fuckin’ girl.”

Silence. Only the soft gulp of your last sense of self-control getting forced down your throat cuts through the thick air between you.

He holds your gaze, a playful smile spread across his lips when he straightens up again, his voice nonchalant. “‘Course, only if you want.”

“I do.” The answer came faster than you could even process it.

He looks back down at you, a flash of genuine surprise crossing his eyes before he covers it up with a smug expression, “Oh yeah?”

His words were like the flick of a switch.

Next moment clothings were flying across the room, partially torn as neither of you had the patience to get them off properly. The heat between you skyrocketed, heavy breathing filling your ears in tandem with intense drumming of your heart. Soft golden rays peek through the shutters, their light bouncing off his darkened eyes and casting shadows of wild, fervent bodies moving through the room like a tempest.

God you felt so pent up - it was driving you mad. The desperate need for relief, for reaching that sweet peak of ecstasy. It clouds your mind, has your will to think straight completely subdued.

Ben doesn’t seem to be in much more control either, his hands flying across your body, like he doesn’t know what to explore first. He pushes you up against the wall, the force deliberately kept to a minimum. His nose draws a line across your shoulder, inhaling your scent like a drug, all the way up your neck until he exhales again, the hot breath pressed against your skin under your jaw.

“Fuck me – you’re intoxicatin’, woman.” He rasps out, his voice raw and full of barely contained need.

Your breath comes out shaky, head tilted to the side without a second thought. “Ben,” you say his name close to a whine, your mind handing over the reigns to him, “Please don’t stop.”

“Won’t-” he mutters against your skin, his voice muffled by the trail of kisses, “’M not gonna stop until you’ve cum.” His teeth skim along your pulse point and for a moment you feel like your legs give in. But he quickly steadies you, his large hands moving down your sides to hold onto your hips with a firm grip. “Promise.” He adds hoarsely, some of your skin now tugged between his teeth as he starts to leave love bites in his wake. “We got a bet goin’, after all.”

Your body’s now moving on instinct and for only one purpose. Your need, your heat, it’ll keep you going, you know it. No matter how long you’ll have to pant like a racing horse, no matter how much you’ll regret it the next day when you’ll feel stiff and aching at places you didn’t even know you had muscles.

It all doesn’t matter right now. It is all just you and him. The world reduced to his strong arms wrapped around your fragile frame, his muscles flexing as he lifts you up, and his world reduced to your legs wrapping around his hips, your aching core pressed up against his bulging boxers.

Your lips collide with his, their first meeting sending a bolt of pleasure through your body. Your mind goes hazy, your legs tighten around his hips and your hands hang onto his shoulder in an attempt to hold him close.

Your heads swivel, mouths working passionate. But to your surprise, Ben still keeps it slow, savouring every bit of your lips dancing around his. His tongue’s tasting the inside of your mouth as he swallows your moans and fills it with his own groans. Teeth gently pull at your lower lip before he finally breaks the kiss, to give you the chance to catch your breath.

You pant against him, your lips burning from the stubbles but still lingering there. You suddenly feel the rest of your body again, a shudder running down your spine, right to your aching core.

That’s when you notice how wet your inner thighs are, the slick coating your skin and folds. Ben licks his lips, the scent of your undeniable arousal filling his senses. He moves you on his hips, pinning you further against the wall to hold you in place with one hand while the other trails over the bump of your hipbones, dipping down between your legs.

“Christ on a Stake. You’re so fuckin’ pent up. What did those wusses do to let you leave like this?” He groans, fingers coating in your slick as he runs them down your inner thigh.

Your eyes briefly flutter closed, your hips bucking against him with the need for some friction already. “Please, I- Ah-fff- ” You mutter, your words cut short by a terribly needy whine when Bens fingertips brush across your clit.

“Yeah, yeah, calm the hell down” he chuckles, his lips back to suck a red mark at your neck, ��’M gonna take care of that needy pussy of yours, dontcha worry.”

You nod, soft moans slipping your red puffy lips as he assaults every inch of skin he can reach. Your eyes widen with a yelp when you suddenly feel yourself getting heaved up high and your limbs flail uncontrollably in a panic.

“Hey- stop struggling darlin’, I don’t wanna hurt you.” He orders gruffly, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips to keep you safely in his grip. With one swift move he lifts you high enough for your legs to drape over his shoulders on each side, his palms now wrapping around the underside of your thighs to keep you pinned between the wall and his head. In moments like these you could feel a shiver run down your back, as you’d just been reminded again of the inhuman power imbalance between you two. Fuck - he could snap you in two if he’d want to.

“Now that’s a view I could get used to,” He growls, his lips curled into a hungry smile at the sight of your dripping hole, all open and inviting, and right on his eye-level. “So damn needy. ‘N so damn beautiful.” He muses, ignoring the increased panting of yours against the top of his head while you’re murmuring his name like a prayer.

His grip tightens as he pushes his head between your thighs, his hot breath against your clit sending sparks of fire through your body. He digs right in, eagerly swiping his tongue between your folds, swirling around your clit, teasing your entrance with slow deliberate slaps of his tongue. You start to squirm and moan in response, the friction like a pain-killer to your aching core.

“Hold still damn it,” he orders, the rumbling of his voice against your folds sending shivers up your spine. You whimper and his intensity increases in response. He groans when your fingers tangle up in his hair and your fingernails scrape at his scalp with frantic motions.

“Fffuck- please, please, please don’t stop, don’t stop-” You plead in weak whimpers as you can feel his beard burn your sensitive skin with every drag of his tongue up your folds, the prickling pain mixing with your pleasure. Meanwhile the muscles in his arms flex to hold you still, keep you pinned up high against the wall and to make sure you don’t accidentally tumble off his shoulders.

His lips close around your clit and he starts to suck terrible whines out of you, your legs fighting his hands under his onslaught. Your pleasure begins to coil tight, your body twitches and your fingers claw at his long hair for the following minutes - but it never snaps. How the fuck does it still not snap?

A whine of protest leaves your lips when he suddenly pulls his head back. You watch his glistening face from half lidded eyes, your chest heaving, some of your sweet juice caught in his beard.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re a tough case, huh?” He chuckles, the tongue swiping his lips to savour your taste again with a low praising groan, “Fuck- Marilyn Monroe’s a dumpster next to you. You taste like fuckin’ heaven.”

A gasp slips your lips when he decides to haul you over his shoulder and with three long strides crosses the room over to the bed when a SMACK has you yelp up. The skin of your asscheek reddens where his hand just swatted you and he chuckles. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.”

You struggle and squirm in protest but it’s no use, his tight grip around your waist keeps you on his shoulder, facing the other way with your nice bum exposed to him. “You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” His hand swats your other asscheek this time and he laughs at your needy whine, his tone amused as you can practically hear the smirk playing on is lips, “I haven’t even started.”

His voice sounds raspy, but his tone tells you he’s thrilled, as if the fact that you didn’t shatter from his touch yet, has him enthralled. After all, Soldier Boy was used to things being easy for him, to succeed with half an effort, so real challenges were a rare case for him. And your stubbornly high resistance to falling over the edge seemed to be just that.

Next moment Ben bends down, dropping you gently onto the bed before the mattress dips down under his additional weight when he crawls on top of you. His hands roam your body, groping the soft flesh at your hips, your thighs, roughly massaging your breasts as he pinches your nipples between his fingers.

You start to squirm and tremble from need, your fingernails scraping at his taut muscles that box you in from all sides. “Just hold still for me, yeah? Just lemme do the work…” he husks out, voice low and dangerous with promise that sends a shiver down your spine.

He leans in and breaths hot and low against the shell of your ear while you feel his hand trail down between your shaking legs. “Will get this needy pussy wrecked and all mine…”

You hum into his shoulder when he pushes his index finger past your slick folds, and he takes that as a cue that you need more, so his middle finger quickly follows. This time he manages to draw a soft moan from your lips, your arms wrapping around his neck where you start to kiss and nibble his skin. “You greedy little thing…” he growls, his lips quirked into a smirk.

He starts to pump them, his fingers curling to hit your spongy spot that earns him at least a little louder moan. “Please,” you start to beg, “I need more, Ben… please-” He doesn’t wait and jams a third finger inside your tight cunt before he flicks his thumb over the hood of your swollen clit, the pace of his hand slapping loudly against your cunt increasing. The stretch of his fat fingers filling you up, rubbing your g-spot and scissoring, it all has your legs trembling, the coil in your stomach tightening again to the point where it just – flat lines.

Ben notices the frustration in your eyes and he leans in to press a sloppy kiss onto your damp forehead. His thumb rubs faster circles over your clit, his eyes locked onto your face when his impatience starts to mutter under his breath. "We got us a real stubborn pussy here, hm? You think everyone else is too much of a wuss to keep up with you, huh? Is that it? You need someone who can give as good as they get?"

“Fine” He grunts, pulling his fingers from your dripping hole, his voice gruff with irritated determination, “Looks like this’ a job for my dick. Gonna fuck you over that edge in no time.”

“Please.” You whine, your face buried in his broad shoulder. Your clit swollen, throbbing, tingling, every nerve of your body burning hot and leading down to that one single aching knot as your system was threatening to short-circuit your brain, just to get this damn bundle of nerves to finally erupt.

He quickly gets rid of his boxers, his thick cock free and fully erect. He grapples with your twitching legs, spreading them apart and pulling you back towards his hips where his pink tip pushes against your entrance. You stifle a mewl, your hips bucking instinctively as you need him. Need all of him.

Both of your groans collide between your lips when he snaps his hips and pushes his shaft all the way into your tight channel in one - unceremonious – go. He stills for a moment, his breath hot and heavy when it wafts against your face, “You good?”

His voice was low, a hoarse whisper between the two of you. You nod once again, a weak “yeah” tumbling off your lips. His hands move up to grip onto your hips like handles, his hips slowly starting to move.

You groan at the feeling of his thick pulsing length dragging down your soft walls before being jammed back in all the way up until he hits your cervix and he coaxes a whimper from you. His pace isn’t fast, but his thrusts are deep, each one well measured and deliberate.

“That’s it, you can take it… taking my cock so fuckin’ well...” He mutters against your skin, his tongue swiping across your salty skin.

When he starts to increase his force, your fingers dig into his skin and if it wasn’t for his indestructibleness, he was sure he’d have some nice and long claw marks of you down his back. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and cants your hips, getting an even deeper angle this way. Slouching noise fills the room, the sound of wet skin clashing together in time with your increasing moans and whines and his grunts and groans.

His hand suddenly reaches up to grab your chin, his eyes locking onto yours. "See, darlin'? I’ll have you fall apart beneath me soon enough… can't keep your pussy giving me that attitude, that's how you end up in a mess like this.” He mocks you with a teasing chuckle, “Getting the stuffing pounded out of you, all because you couldn't control that naughty mouth of yours and had to make a bet with me."

You just nod, the meaning of his words flying by your clouded mind. Your sole focus’ on your building pleasure, rapidly charging up your throbbing clit. Ben notices it too when your walls start to clamp down on his cock, every hard thrust forcing its way back in to keep the pleasure building.

“Fuck – you’re so tight – You gonna strangle my damn dick at this point.” He hisses, his fingers digging into your flesh again to pull your hips back and meet his thrusts.

“You close, darlin’?” Ben grunts above you.

There it is again. That embarrassing moment of silence. You would’ve sighed right now if it wasn’t for you being buried beneath Ben and his punctured thrusts knocking the air out of you.

Are you close? Your core’s on fire. Certainly. To the point where it hurts even. You feel your legs and feet tingling like white-noise is rushing through your blood, leaving every sensitive nerve in its wake going numb.

But still. You know you wouldn’t tip over. Stuck in that fucking uphill battle. It was just. Not. Enough. It never was nowadays.

The blatant lie sits on the tip of your tongue when Ben’s gruff voice suddenly cuts in.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare fake it.”

How - Your mind comes to a screeching halt.

You choke it back down. Cancel the act that was up next, your well-versed finale to the dull program you were used to.

Shit, he knows.

“N-no…” you confess under your breath. The sound of it weak and to your relief, lost between his heavy grunts.

Or so you think.

“What? You think I’m some spineless wuss who can’t get his girl off?” He punctures each word with a deep thrust as he keeps pounding you into the mattress, “Just tell me whatever the fuck you need me to do, I’m not gonna cry, Jesus Christ.” He continues to reprimand you in a firm tone, his voice holding a hint of disappointment.

You gasp, your breath gets stuck in your throat. No man has ever asked you this before. No one.

Ben suddenly stills, his green eyes locking with yours when his voice takes a serious tone, “You need me to be rougher, pretty girl? That it?”

Your breath hitches, your mind dizzy and clouded by his musky scent, the feeling of him inside you, above you, all around you - and the heat still burning between your legs, still not on that damn edge to your long chased relief.

He leans down next to your head to scrub his beard along your cheeks and up to your ear, “Just say the word,” he growls and you can practically see the smirk spread across his face by the way he sounds.

He knows. Fuck he knows you need more.

And yet he waits for your response, patiently, his body still hanging onto you with a tight grip while his hot breath wafts against the shell of your ear in short bursts like a countdown.

There’s a moment of tense silence, like the calm before a storm. A force that is waiting for you to invite it in, to let it wreck your temple.

“Y-yes, please,” Your voice’s trembling slightly from each puff of warm air that’s huffed from between his lips and smothered across your skin, sending a shiver down your back.

“Jackpot,” he hums, a satisfied expression on his face before his lips begin aimlessly placing kisses all over your face, as if trying to soothe your frustration. “Not gunna hold back anymore… gunna fuck you so long ‘n so hard you won’t be able to walk for the next days. You like that thought, hm?”

“Y—yeah- please – just don’t stop…” you admit with a needy whine, your legs twitching against his shoulders and your head tilted back while your hands start to fist the sheets in anticipation. You’d surely fall over the edge in the next minutes. You had to.

Little did you know, that you’d still be going for the next couple of hours.

You switched positions every time you felt how your clit was going numb from the overstimulation and the pent up energy. Ben’s bulky body kept working relentlessly, his power not faltering once, his pace never slowing down unless he noticed you needed a moment to catch your breath.

He’d be trapping you under him, ass high up in the air, back pressed down with one hand splayed across it, wrists somewhere buried in the pillows and pinned there roughly by his other hand as he slammed is cock against your cervix in a brutal pace.

“Tell me when you’re close,” he orders, his lips against the spot behind your ear and his long, stubby beard scraping your skin as his jaw moves, “I want to see your beautiful face when you rock that high the way you fuckin’ deserve.”

“Oh- Oh fuck- I- I’m close-“ you scream as you feel his hard tip punch your spongy walls like he’s trying to engrave himself into your every inch and his fingers meanwhile rubbing your clit sore. He roughly flips you over onto your back, his lips catching yours just in time when your walls flutter around him and finally, finally that sweet relief crashes down on you. Unexpected and intoxicating as your guttural moans get muffled by his mouth. “God- this- you, God-”

He pulls back, huffing a raspy laughter with a mock-offended tone, “God? I’m fuckin’ better.” He feels your cum coat his cock, your walls wrapping tightly around him. It takes all his will power to hold himself back, to not empty himself inside you. Not yet. Not when he’d promised you to keep going all night. “That’s it,” He plants a praising kiss onto your forehead, his gruff voice rumbling against your skin, “And now let’s hear it once more. Just for good measure.”

And he does. Fingers sink into your skin whenever he’d move you around, large hands holding you down, up, on top of him, against him, muscles working all around you while they would bend or push you into any position, effortlessly.

His superhuman strength overpowers you without even trying, but it feels like he’s only ever using as little as needed to get a reaction out of you. A good reaction. When he roughly flips you over again, pushes you into the mattress, pins your head to the sheets as you squirm and tremble under him, you notice his lips brush up against your ear more frequently, murmuring incoherent, soothing words. Like he’s following the urge to be closer to you. Making silent check-ins. Always making sure you’re not overwhelmed, making sure that those wines and yelps are the cause of pleasurable pain and nothing else. At last, you find yourself on top of him, straddling his hips, bouncing on his hard cock as you ride him like a bull. “What was that about you outlasting me, huh?” He taunts and mocks you in time with rough strokes along your exhausted gummiwalls, “‘bout taking whatever I can throw at you, hm?” He snaps his hips up to meet you halfway when you yelp a short admission, “O-okay, you win!”

His lips curl into a smug smile, “What was that? You gotta work that pretty mouth of yours. Gramps ears ain’t that good.” He pulls you down roughly, making you take him deeper with each thrust of his.

“Y-yar r-ah-iight!” You groan as you fall apart one more final time. Your walls flutter and this time he allows himself to let you pull him over the edge along you. His pulsing cock coating your insides with his warm cum. Your voice’s raspy from the harsh breaths you’ve sucked down your open mouth for the past hours.

You collapse to his chest, shaking from the waves of pleasure that rippled through your every fibre and the feeling of his warm seeds filling you up and dripping down his shaft and onto his skin. His arms wrap around your back to hold you close while he murmurs naughty words against the crown of your head.

While Ben had gotten himself a joint to smoke, you padded into the bathroom, getting yourself cleaned. “You doin’ good, darlin’?” He calls after you, loosley holding the joint between his lips as he props himself up against the bed’s headboard.

You return after a while, your body wrapped up in a towel as you make your way back to the bed and snuggle up to him. He drapes his arm lazily around your shoulder, pulling you closer so that your head rests on his firm chest.

“You really had to work for it… huh?” You break the silence with a low mutter, feeling some embarrassment creep up on you.

“You kiddin’?” His eyes snap down at you and he takes a drag of his joint before he continues, “Darlin’, you’ve got the drive of a bunny in heat. Taking my cock so fuckin’ well. Most tap out after the second round but you -“ he lets out a low whistle close to a hiss, “- you just keep goin’ all night – Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“Oh shush…” You giggle sheepishly.

“Just speaking the damn truth. You be proud of that, ya hear me?” He says in a firm voice, while he reaches up to stroke a damp hair out of your face.

You smile, feeling your chest tingle and your cheek warm up, “This was… this was unbelievable. You were amazing.”

He laughs and flashes a cocky grin down at you, “Told ya my dick would beat your pussy over that edge.“

You cringe inwardly at his choice of words, “That’s not what I meant. I’m not talking about your… your dick or your stamina. I’m talking about you.” You pause, his eyebrows knot together and you quickly add, "Like, non-physically."

He stares at you, nonplussed - then irritated. “Fuck me. You - you snort some of my shit, prissy little thing?”

“No, Ben-,” a soft, frustrated chuckle escapes your lips that makes his eyebrows twitch together again, “You - you are amazing.”

You repeat but this time tilt your head back to hold his gaze, like you’re pointing at the soul hiding behind those green orbs that stare back at you, while your fingers draw invisible circles on his arms.

Silence.

Ben’s sharp eyes are searching your face for clues, like he’s mentally going through every drug that could have led you to say something as ridiculous as that.

You smile in return. A genuine, honest smile. Aimed at him. And his mind short circuits for a moment.

A faint flash of something like a blush crosses his cheeks, but it is covered up the same moment with his usual gruff expression and an irritated scoff. “‘Course I’m fuckin’ amazin’. Besides that, I just wanted to win the bet.” His teeth flash at you between a cocky smirk. “And I proofed you damn wrong.”

Ah, there it is again, good ol’ Soldier Boy.

Walls and barb wire and mine field; all up and ready to defend that one and only fragile part of his indestructible body. Keeping it strapped down by some rush of power trip and waterboarded in his twisted idea of love.

You chuckle, knowingly. That damn soft smile on your lips again.

He stares down at you with an unreadable expression, like he’s fighting the urge to slap some sense into you for throwing such an inappropriate gesture his way. To him, it was infuriating, really. But thanks to that stupid curve dancing across your face, he now feels himself caught up in a whole new range of emotions.

You could have gotten up now and left. Like you were sure he expected you to. Probably one of the reasons he kept silent, his brows pulled low like a defensive shield against your gaze, his arm draped around your shoulders so awkwardly… ‘cuz he knew he wasn’t good at this. Aftercare. He’s practically just waiting for you to snap at him, and pull away without another good word. His eyes narrow further, almost provoking it now as he felt himself slowly crumble under your warm presence.

But none of these thoughts crossed your mind. Instead your fingers gently trace the frame of his hardened face that could’ve fooled anyone but you.

That speck of a blush had been more than enough reason to settle down further into his chest with a soft hum, “Mhm, you did win... Win-win.”

Mindless chattering carries the cozy atmosphere of Jerry’s Coffehouse, each table occupied by couples sharing desserts and passionate kisses. All except the one set under your arms, your fingers loosely holding onto the card before you drop it to the table in resignation.

The sweet scent of sugary sins whirls around your nose, intrusive, mocking you. Now that you are here, sitting in the middle of a room full of unfiltered, tooth-aching love all around you, it seems like your appetite has been spoiled for good.

Truth be told, you can’t entirely blame the lovestruck couples boxing you in like in a bully circle. The problem is much worse. You feel lonely. Not the usual lonely, but terribly lonely because you had something for a moment, something real special, and now it was gone again.

It feels like so many unspoken feelings still hang in the air. At least for you there are. You are pretty sure that Ben was more than happy about Butcher’s interruption just when you thought you’d seen a glimpse of something more beneath this scraggy hard shell of “Soldier Boy”.

You exhale heavily. Your eyes glued down to your empty hands.

Well, it doesn’t matter now, does it? Your job to watch Soldier Boy was done. He’d moved on. It was over. After all, last night was just for some fun, right? Something to finally get you off, to feel so much more than-

You mentally kick yourself. Get your shit together and get back to your old life.

You fish out your phone from your pocket and open the fanfic from yesterday. With a heavy sigh you scroll down the blurry words, memories of your past night flashing across your inner eye – when a sudden noise almost has you drop your phone.

The coffee table rattles under your elbows as the opposite chair clatters into it under the force of a kick and the following screeching sound has some heads whirl around to watch the scene with raised eyebrows.

Whipped cream sploshes for a second as the large glass CLANGS down in front of you and hits the wooden surface with the force of a drunken man handling a beer bottle. You instinctively dodge back in your seat. Your eyes watch the green contents of it sway under the thick layer of chocolate sprinkled cream topping before your befuddled look darts up to meet him.

Ben slumps down across of you. His casual clothes almost could’ve fooled one to believe he’s a regular guy, if it wasn’t for his bulky frame hanging off the seat in all directions.

He looks a tad annoyed, but that was something you’d long become accustomed to. There was always something that pissed Ben off when you were around. Or someone for that matter. But mostly, it was just his resting face and you knew better than to take it personally.

“Couples get one pussy milk for two.” He states gruffly, ignoring all the faces turned his way now.

“…Ben? What the hell are you doing here?” You sputter, thrown off by the sudden whiff of musky smoke mixed with an unusual, intense, fresh and masculine smell… was that perfume that just hit your nose?

His stern expression melts into a flirtatious smile. This is new. “Hey sweetheart. Miss me yet?”

“How did you know I was here? - Wait- did you just say, for couples?”

“That’s what the sailor-hat-cum-gobbler back there said.” He boots back the chair next to you to kick up his legs while he continues with an annoyed grunt, but lacked any bite, “This green spew better be worth my damn money.”

You blink at him rapidly, and quite frankly, dumbfounded. Is that emotionally constipated man even aware of what he just said or-

“That’s what we are, innit?” He cuts you short, his voice as gravelly and confident as always.

But the way his green pupils glance up at you from the corner of his eyes, a thick strand of hair falling into his face when his head tilted away slightly, like a puppy afraid to get kicked… His emotions were subtle, a rare and fleeting moment, and anybody else might have dismissed it. But it told you so much more than he was willing to admit.

When your eyes flicker down to his hand twitching from his death grip on the arm rest, your chest tightens.

Oh my God. Ben was dead fucking serious.

“Don’t people usually first date?” You chuckle nervously, trying to lighten the mood.

And to buy yourself some time as you try to grapple with a situation you had never expected to find yourself in.

In fact, you have pictured yourself in it ever since you stepped into that shabby damn motel room where he had locked eyes with you for the very first time.

His stern expression makes way for a raucous laughter, his voice booming across the small coffee in pride. “I think we’re past that point, love, after I’ve fucked you raw. For five fucking hours. That’s longer than any damn date I’ve ever had.”

“Jesus Christ - Ben - tune it down! Please.” You plead in a hushed voice, face flushed as you can sense all the curious eyes watching you both closely, like you’re part of a live performance. And a scandalous one on top.

“I don’t hear any complaints. Just stating the facts here, sweetheart.” He chuckles cockily and winks at you, clearly his full ego back in place again, “So it’s settled, then?”

“Uh- I - uh-,” you stumble over your words, your hands fidgeting and your head still reeling from the fact that he had just announced your new relationship status as if he’d made a decent marketing deal with Vought.

His eyebrows push together, that familiar look of impatience taking over his face as he tries to understand why you’re still hesitating. You swallow thickly, the lump in your throat blocking any chance to voice your inner struggles.

You visibly shrink under his intense gaze and your eyes sink to the table, unsure of what to do. You sense him move across of you and you half-expect him to either snark at you now or just simply get up and leave. Damnit, now you fucked up.

But instead he slides the XXL milkshake across the table until it bumps into your tightly clasped hands and your eyes dart up to meet his again. He searches your face, emerald eyes sharp, analysing, but motivated by genuine concern.

His calloused fingers slide off the glass to brush them against yours, gentle, almost hesitant. As if those very same fingers hadn’t groped and gripped your flesh all night like he wanted to leave his marks on every inch of your body.

His large hand moves to cover both of yours, muffling the fidgeting of your fingers with a calm and heavy presence, his actions a big contrast to his rumbling voice. “Hey, you still with me?” He husks out your name, his green eyes boring into yours, gauging your reaction.

Your breath hitches, he squeezes your hands, the tension eases. Ben’s grounding you.

“Yes.” You finally whisper with an affectionate smile, and the same moment his fingers twitch around your hands. “It’s settled.”

“Good.” He mutters to himself and his expression seems almost… relieved.

It’s this moment you realise something: Ben’s not been avoiding his usual flirty and cocky smiles because he didn’t like you or thought you weren’t worth a fling. But because you were more than a possible fling to him. Because this, this was dead serious to him. And he was probably terrified of screwing it up.

After all, people didn’t love Benjamin for showing emotions, for vulnerability, for weakness, for being human. They loved Soldier Boy for being a fucking hero. The strongest. Indestructible. And not caressing fragile hands like they were an extention of the most precious soul in the whole damn universe to him.

His hands squeeze yours once more, as if physically reassuring you, before he pulls away and leans back again, now a content smile embellishing his firm face.

A genuine smile. No show. No flirty Soldier Boy.

From one ear to the other, all Benjamin.

As if he’d seen himself in the mirror, he suddenly shifts in his seat, like he’s physically trying to shake off any remaining trace of that disgusting vulnerability. “Right, so…” He clears his throat, his eyes flickering around the packed coffee shop like he’s looking for some moron to latch onto.

You chuckle softly at the sight, knowing all too well that it’ll probably take a hell of a lot of time and love to get him to smile more like this without having him recoil from his own feelings every time.

Sure enough, Ben has found the perfect victim. “Think we gotta step up our couple-game. Popeye’s still ain’t buyin’ it.” He smirks, his eyes lazily rolling over to briefly shoot a death glare at the sailor-hat wearing employee who’s now cowering behind the counter.

He then reaches over the table again, his index finger flicking against one of the two red-white striped straws bobbing in the sweet drink, before he goes on to strangle his own between his calloused finger pads.

“The dick bender’s been watching you all this time.” He growls, and you can feel just a hint of protectiveness from the way his jaw muscle twitches beneath his beard and his nose wrinkles above the straw that’s now been jammed between his bared teeth.

“Everyone’s watching us, Ben.” You chuckle, before your eyes trail down to the free straw with an amused smile.

Ben nudges your inner thigh with his foot under the table to get your attention. “C’mon, you make me look like some cocksucker here.” He teases and jerks his chin at you and the untouched straw still dangling off your side of the milkshake, “You said you wanted a fucking great Valentine’s day, right? So do me a favour, sweetheart, and start sucking.”

You chuckle and bring the straw up to your mouth to wrap your lips around it. You take the first slurp and your cheeks melt into a wide, knowing smile.

Matcha milkshake with chocolate chips and extra vanilla syrup. That much for ‘a code word’.

-------------

A/N: I hope this turned out okay?? 😭

Also. Maybe I was breaking a taboo here or maybe it’s not as common as I thought, but I felt like it's a topic which I have rarely ever see in fanfics. And I know how some just don’t fall over the edge that easily? Like sometimes it genuinely feels frustrating to chase that relief to no end with no success? Yeah, this story is for you all. I hear you. 🧡

Starting a Soldier Boy tag list for anyone who’s interested! ♡

#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy smut #soldier boy fic #loverboy!soldier boy #soldier boy #the boys fanfic #the boys x you #the boys smut #no use of y/n #the boys fanfiction #valentines fics #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fluff #soldier boy angst #the boys fic #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles

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