#actually i take it back the more i think about it now i am become the whiny existential queen is still funny. i guess you could say im just | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bananayuyu · 1 day ago

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just friends (2) - back to the beginning

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 12.6k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral, cum eating

a/n: i have become completely obsessed with these two. I've mapped out 10 parts for this series (help me), please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the rest <33 new parts won't be coming out on any certain schedule as I have many other writing projects I'm working on, but I will for sure finish his series within the year. I'm too obsessed not to. also the argument at the end of this part is pretty nasty so please proceed with caution <3

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One Year Ago

"Titi, it's 4:15, get your ass up!" you called from her desk, squinting at your eyes in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your dark, heavy face of makeup.

"I know, sorry," she grumbled from her bed, slowly pushing off her comforter. "Winter makes me so sleepy," she yawned, stretching as long as she couch reach, her feet falling off the side of her mattress.

"You just love being late, I think," you joked, slapping closed the lid of your highlighter, putting the brush you used back into the drawer it came from.

"You'd think I do, with how often I am," she laughed, another yawn escaping her lips, her palms rubbing circles over her eyes.

"I'm leaving without you if you're running late, just so you know," you responded, stepping up off her desk chair and over to your trusty bag, double checking you had your costume for tonight, your phone, your keys, wallet, and makeup bag.

"I'm coming, just give me a second," she muttered, pushing herself up dramatically, a deep sigh wracking through her. "I didn't get to sleep till like ten in the morning."

"What were y'all doing?" you asked, chuckling, zipping closed your bag with a satisfying sound, everything packed just right for the day ahead.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed, waggling her eyebrows at you.

"You're a couple of fucking rabbits, you two," you shot back, staring at the disheveled state of your best friend. She tipped her head back, laughing hard, that bright full smile showing across her beautiful face. She'd been smiling a lot like that lately, ever since her and her girlfriend had made things official, ever since they'd decided to move in together.

"I'm sorry, I won't talk about it so much if it's annoying," she said, finally standing herself up and shlepping off her pajamas.

"Don't stop, it's very adorable," you responded. "Why would it be annoying?"

"Just cause, you know, your last situation was such a disappointment. I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in," she said, grabbing for a pair of black leggings and pink sweater in the pile of clothes on the floor.

"My last, what, three situations, actually?" you said, trying to remember each of the ridiculous members of the cast of dates you'd been on last year.

"Dating sucks," she said, pulling her leggings on, stumbling a bit.

"Not for you, it doesn't," you responded, crossing your arms.

"Well, not now, but it did for my whole life up until this point," she said.

"Ah, turned twenty-two and now you have it figured out?" you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Hey, don't get snippy with me missy," she pouted, pulling the sweater over her head.

"Sorry, you know I just like arguing for no reason," you sighed, chuckling a bit.

"I need to find you someone who likes it just as much as you do," she joked back, grabbing her phone off it's charger.

"But who's not actually an asshole?" you said.

"Yeah, exactly," she laughed, shooting off a quick text. "Shit, 4:20," she said, stuffing her phone into her own huge bag, not bothering to check it's contents like you just did.

"Okay, we're going now," you said, walking out into her living room, heading straight for the front door.

"Wait, just let me make a cup of coffee!" she called to you, stumbling behind.

"They have coffee where we work, you know," you remarked, looking back at her over your shoulder.

"Oh my god, you love saying shit like that," she rolled her eyes, following close behind you.

"I'm not wrong," you said as you opened the front door, stepping out into the hall.

"I just wanted my pretty mug," she sighed, stepping out after you.

"Then go grab it," you said, holding the door open.

"I can do that? Make coffee into a mug I've brought in?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Okay, if I get in trouble I'm blaming you," she said, running back in to grab her favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink.

"Fine, fine," you shook your head, closing the door once she'd come out again.

As soon as you exited the building you realized you'd worn too much; it might be January still, but it was hardly cold at all, this dense desert city holding all the heat the rest of the world must be craving.

"Can we slow down?" Tina asked from beside you, your shoulders bumping as you stepped around a huge group standing on the sidewalk outside of an Italian restaurant, chatter filling the air.

"I don't wanna be late," you answered, keeping your pace as it was.

"Dude, you're so wound up," she said, snaking her hand through your upper arm, genuinely worried you'll start sprinting off if she didn't ground you somehow.

"Sorry, I know," you said, linking your arm around her's. "I'm good, I swear. Just stressed about my manuscript submission," you said, flashing her a wary smile.

"They said they'd get back to you by next week, right?" she asked, gently pulling on you to help you avoid a dark spot of something sticky on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, next week," you sighed, letting out a disgruntled noise.

"Okay, so, you just gotta wait. You did all that work last year finishing that play, you should let yourself have some fun for a few weeks. We should all go out after work today, we haven't done that in forever," she said, the two of you snaking around a line of people standing outside the old movie theater that sat just a block from your place of work.

"Doesn't Maya work Sunday mornings?" you asked, pulling up at the corner to wait for the light to change.

"Usually, but not this week. She's on a later shift today so they gave her tomorrow off," she answered you, eyes darting around at the cacophony of sounds streaming through the streets from every direction.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, and Tina started laughing, squeezing onto your arm. "Shit sorry, did that sound sarcastic?"

"It's so funny when your tone goes all flat like that," she said beside you, a genuine smile on her face. "Seriously though, there probably won't be a Saturday night where she can come out with us for a very long time. We should do it. Maybe we can even convince Sasha and Bibi to come too."

"I'll think about it," you said as the light changed, the two of you stepping down onto the asphalt in front of you. A car honked loudly from your left, wanting to turn down the street you were walking across, and you both shot the driver identical looks of confusion over your shoulders. Only another minute and you were pushing through the side door of the bar, stepping right into the back of the kitchen and waving hi to the cooks on the line. The hallway to the dressing room was already uncomfortably hot; your light layers were far too much now, so you stripped them off quickly, shoving everything into your locker and checking your phone. You weren't late, after all. Thankfully, because you were on early tonight, second in the program, and you only had time to change into your costume and warm up a bit before Ilya was calling your name and pushing you down to the left wing of the stage.

It was a fairly normal night, by all accounts. You'd been working at the bar for nearly two years by then, one of the longer standing performers. There was high turnover in the staff, as was typical in a bar, but especially amongst the performers, who'd often find sudden success in movies or TV, or decide that pursuing this was just not for them anymore. Ages varied wildly; your boss Julie was not one to obsess over youth, or any other conventional markers of beauty. All she cared about was talent; she wanted to create the most interesting, jaw dropping, entertaining show this whole city had to offer, and there was no doubt she had succeeded. Every kind of person could be found working here; sometimes servers would take on a performing shift or two, and sometimes the opposite. It wasn't rare for you to be asked to take drinks to a certain table, your costume still on, sometimes staying in character as you placed them down in front of wonder-filled eyes. You all were expected to help each other out; once or twice you'd even been requested in the kitchen or behind the bar, when there'd been one too many sudden call outs.

It was a classy establishment. Doors opened at 4:30, the show promptly starting at 5pm; it ended at midnight sharp, the bar closing only half an hour later. It was the earliest place to close on the block, only open four days a week, Wednesday night through Saturday night. It was a place people went to pregame, to start their evening with a bang, or a place people went to see a great show before heading back home at a reasonable hour. There was a drinks limit; you all could deny a customer another if they were acting unruly, your security team inconspicuous under the dark shadowy light inside, but always watching. The food served was regular bar fare: tacos, wings, pizza, burgers, but it was high quality, so good that some people came frequently just for their favorite menu item. The place was known for its drinks, too, having hoards of non alcohol options that put every other bar's mocktail lists to shame. It was known for its organized and sparkly atmosphere, known as a reliable place to have a good ass night. The patronage was a mixed bag, but the place wasn't cheap; it tended to skew a bit older, a bit more mature. You didn't hate that; it meant the behavior was generally predictable, even if you didn't exactly fit in amongst the crowd cheering you on.

Halfway through the night you plopped down on your stool in the dressing room, scrubbing free the bits of eyeliner that had smudged below your eye during your first two solo performances of the night.

"Hey girl, sorry to bug, do you have any lashes I could borrow?" Sasha came running in, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"I should, let me see what I have," you said, setting your makeup wipe on your bare thigh and zipping open your bag.

"I'm so sorry to ask, but I literally don't have any with me," she sighed, coming to sit beside you. "My right one fell off on stage and I couldn't find it for the life of me. I was trying to look for it without making it obvious," she said, a nervy chuckle escaping her.

"No worries, here, look through there. Take whatever you need," you said, handing her the small box you kept your old and new lashes in.

"Oh darling, you're a lifesaver," she sighed, snapping it open and rifling through, finding the size she needed. She still had some of that newbie air about her, not six weeks into working with you. But already she had established herself as irreplaceable; by then she emceed almost every night she worked, and thank god for that, as none of the rest of you had any talent or desire for it. Julie tended to do it, if no one else was available, but having a beautiful drag queen host the evening, one who also performed in the show, was a much better choice in every way.

"A group of businessmen just walked in and took table four, I'm hoping one of them is interesting in all this," she said, leaning forward to place the replacement lash on her right eyelid.

"I'm sure one will be, Sash, you're fucking gorgeous," you said, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from your face and giggling.

"Oh sweetheart, you flatter me," she drawled, looking over her face in the mirror. "Do you think those straight-" she lifted her hands, making air quotes, "men can tell I'm not a woman in all the typical ways?"

"Girl, I wasn't even sure the first time I saw you. Your makeup skills are unmatched," you said, chuckling at her.

"Oh stop it," she joked, shaking her head at you. "I hope my hosting skills are half as good," she sighed, finally placing the lash on her eye just right and batting her hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to get the glue to dry quickly.

"Sasha, are you kidding? You put the rest of us to shame. You should have seen me the one night Julie made my try it out," you laughed, tossing your used makeup wipe in the waste basket beside you.

"I'm sure it was just fine, you little genius," she responded, blinking her eye open and closed a few times. "Sorry to cut this short, but I should probably get out there again."

"Go get 'em, girl," you responded, shooting a playful wink her way.

"Thank you again, darling," she said as she walked past, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You squeezed it briefly; "of course," you said. Then her heels were clacking past you, and soon the room filled with noise as nearly every performer on your cast came in to start their makeup, all of you preparing for the big group number of the evening.

You'd discovered the song, randomly, a few months back. The title, Kalyna, and the album art had intrigued you; after your first listen you were imaging the choreography immediately, turning on your phone to record the sudden ideas flooding your brain. You'd never choreographed a number for the bar, but you knew Julie would be open to it if you pitched it correctly. Three weeks later and you were teaching your coworkers the choreography, chaotic short lessons between everyone's normal performances, all of them picking it up lightning quick. It was an instant hit with your audiences, the night it debuted, and had been kept in the rotation longer than most of the other numbers ever were.

That night the air was buzzing in the dressing room; everyone looked sharp and stunning in their body suits, hair slicked back and pulled tight into buns. The makeup was angular; this number was meant to evoke a bit of tension, maybe even some fear in the audience. But it also showed the strength of the team, the strength of community, and the physical strength of each of you. It was your absolute favorite number that winter; you looked forward to it every night you worked, proud to know you'd created something that stuck so fondly in the minds of the people who watched.

As you hit the stage, you saw immediately what Sasha had just mentioned. Table four, which sat just off the right side of the stage, was cramped full of men in suits, every single one sharp and fitted and so obviously expensive. There was every type of man you could imagine at the table; you spotted immediately the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Sasha's dream come to life. And when she led the first eight counts towards the front of the stage, you saw his eyes take in everything, her long legs, her face, her deep rich eyes he seemed lost in. You nearly broke character; so rare was is that people in here flirted with the performers, oddly enough, and normally you were very thankful for that. It was all a part of the classy environment your boss had curated, and it meant you felt safe. But you couldn't deny how giddy it made you to see this playing out in front of you, mere feet from where you danced.

You danced the rest of the number focused, determined not to drop your professionalism for too long, the crowd erupting in cheer as you all finished. Clasping hands down the line, you took one giant bow, spinning and running off stage as the number ended.

"Lina needs help y'all!" Ilya called as you ran through the wings, and immediately you headed down the short hallway to the back of the bar, bursting through to find her. Stacked along the bar were multiple trays of drinks; a line was forming, and your head bartender looked the tiniest bit stressed. Sweat dripped form her brow, and she wiped it away quickly with her hand, punching something into the computer before whipping around to take another order.

"Oh, good, please take those out!" she said when she saw you and Tina, pointing to the trays of drinks in front of you. "The beers are for table four, the cocktails table seven!"

In an instant you grabbed the tray in front of you, sliding past Tina as carefully and quickly as possible. This was sometimes your favorite moments of the evening, when in the adrenaline of post-performance you had to run out drinks to an excited table, who'd marvel over your performance and ask you every question they could think of. As you started weaving through the room, several iterations of 'great job!' and 'amazing, just amazing!' were thrown your way, making your smile so wide it nearly stretched off your face. You barely payed attention to the drinks in your hand, only to make sure they didn't spill, as you nodded in thanks to the compliments, smiling at the half-lit faces around you.

It wasn't until you stopped, stood close to the wall to let another server past, that you realized which tray you'd grabbed. Both table four and seven sat on the far side of the room opposite the bar, and in the chaos of the moment you'd just headed this way, not bothering to actually take note. Now, you did; eight beers sat on the tray balanced on your hand, all identical dark ales. You shot a look to your side at Tina's tray, littered with pink and blue and clear cocktails, fun decorations sticking out the top of them all. Your's was meant for table four, for those businessmen Sasha had spotted, the one's you'd just performed mere feet from.

It shouldn't have worried you, but you couldn't help remembering it now. The only time you'd felt uncomfortable at work had been when serving a giant table full of just men, when one of them had said things severely over the line with you, just to make his friends laugh. It'd only ever happened that once, but the feeling was humiliating enough to have stuck with you, your mind whirring a bit as you made you way towards the crowded table. You decided you'd set the tray down by the man eyeing Sasha; maybe you could subtly hint at her interest, though you had no idea what you'd say. But as soon as you entered their proximity and reached between two of them to set down the tray, a man across the table spoke to you.

"I love that song!" he said, and you looked up to find a sweet, bright smile and deep dimples staring back at you.

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, giving him a genuine smile back, your mind immediately put at ease. You started placing the beers around, one in front of each man, careful to avoid the plates of food already littering the table.

"Do you know the significance of the Kalyna plant in Ukraine?" the same man asked, and your head snapped to him, eyes slightly wide.

"Yeah, that's why I chose to make that number," you said before you could think, so shocked that someone here knew anything about the song you'd spent long hours researching months ago.

"You choreographed that?" he asked, his eyes going wide a bit too.

"Oh, yeah," you said, slightly embarrassed that you'd just openly admitted that. It wasn't something you tended to do, when making light chatter with customers. You grabbed the last beer, which was for him, and made your way around the table to set it down in front of him. "It's just such a great song, easy to choreograph to," you added, trying to make yourself sound less conceited, less interested in talking about yourself.

"It is great, haven't heard it in years," he responded, taking the beer from your hand as you moved to set it down.

"You've heard it before?" you asked, genuine shock in your tone. The band was not one very popular here; not a single person you knew had heard of them, and no one in the months you'd been performing it had mentioned knowing anything about the song.

"Yeah, my freshman roommate in college was from Ukraine and he played a lot of their music. He's a drag queen, I would go to his shows a lot. He actually did a routine to that song, too, for a while," he responded, turning in his seat a bit to better face you. By this point the rest of the table had fallen into another conversation; it seemed none of the rest of them had heard of the song before, or cared to learn much about it. Kind of made them seem like shitty friends, to you. But you were thankful for it, because all of the sudden it felt like you and this gorgeous man were all alone, your back against the west wall of the seating area, Sasha's voice booming through the speakers around you.

"Next time he's visiting I'll be sure to take him here, he'd love it," he added, taking a swig of his beer.

"Well we might not be performing that number anymore, depending on when he's coming. Our numbers are put on a rotation, and this one's overstayed it's welcome already. Though it's still quite popular, we might be able to perform it a while longer," you said, words coming easily, the normal walls you kept high when talking to customers nowhere to be found.

"That's too bad, I hope you get to keep it for a while. It's fucking great, you're a real genius," he said, looking up at you again with those perfect dimples.

"Thanks," you said, blushing, the smirk he was sending your way bringing sudden heat to your face. You'd had time now to take him in; his hair was black, short at the sides and longer on top, his suit black to match it. His skin was honey, smooth as can be, and his face was pure perfection, pouty lips and a perfect nose, a strong jaw, strong eyebrows. He was very masculine, but very pretty too, so stunning you couldn't believe your eyes. And his wire framed glasses held his look together perfectly; he looked sharp, smart, and confident. He looked the way you were pretty sure every man wished he looked in a suit.

"I don't usually say stuff like this, but, when are you free tonight? We're all headed to a huge party up in the East Heights after this, if you'd like to come. There's gonna be an open bar, a pool, it's supposed to be pretty crazy," he said, taking another quick sip of his beer, his face pure and calm as he said it.

'I don't usually say stuff like this' my ass, you thought. The words had flown off his tongue too easily for that to be believable. But it was working on you, his confidence. You'd experienced too many instances of vague flirting, of indirectness, of shaky voices and shakier hands. You'd dreamt of a moment like this, when someone saw you and liked what they saw, liked it enough to ask you out then and there with no hesitation.

"Uh, I get off at 12:30, when the bar closes," you answered him, words falling out of your mouth without intention. "I- uh- I'll need to think about it though. I wouldn't be comfortable coming by myself, would I be able to bring some friends?"

"Yeah, bring whoever you'd like. It's a big event, a few extra bodies should be no big deal," he responded, smirk turning to a full on smile. His teeth were perfect, god he was perfect, and you got lost in his face for a few seconds, resting your hip against the wall behind you, your lower lip grasped between your teeth.

"I'm San, by the way," he said, reaching out his free hand in your direction.

"Oh, yeah, I'm y/n," you replied, placing your hand in his. His handshake was strong, hand warm around yours, your fingers nearly disappearing in his palm.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding onto your hand for a second longer than needed, gently releasing it and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Nice to meet you too," you said awkwardly, eyes darting around the room. "I should probably get back to work, it was nice chatting with you," you said, finally walking around the table to grab the tray and bring it back to the bar.

"We'll be here till closing, so just let me know then if you'd like to come," he said, nodding in your direction as you started to turn.

"Okay, thanks," you said, smiling over your shoulder, before walking off hurriedly between tables, suddenly worried sick that you'd be in trouble for talking to him for too long.

"Titi, you still wanna go out tonight?" you asked as you rushed back into the locker room, two slices of sweet bread you stole from the kitchen in your hands.

"Yeah, you actually wanna?" she said excitedly, reaching forward to grab one of them from you.

"I just got invited to a party in the Easy Heights," you said, a bewildered look gracing your features.

"Hello? What?" she responded, her mouth open in a comical O.

"I don't even know, but yeah, apparently some big party is happening at a house up there? He said it will have an open bar and pool?" you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the words coming out of you.

"Who said this?" she asked, mouth full as she chowed down.

"He said his name is San, he's in that group at table four," you responded.

"Oh my god, Sasha was just telling me she was making eyes at one of those men," Tina laughed, a hand coming to your shoulder.

"Yeah, I saw that while we were performing Kalyna," you said, giggling too.

"You sure you wanna go to an East Heights party? There's definitely gonna be like coke and shit, probably worse. It might be crazy," she said, head tilting to the side.

"If it's awful we can just leave, but I kinda feel like going. I doubt we'll ever be invited to one of those again," you laughed, giving her an assured smile. "I kind of want to see what tomfoolery those rich assholes get up to."

"So this isn't about hanging out with that man?" she asked.

"He seems cool, but I think he might be gay," you said to her, crossing your arms.

"Um, why?"

"He said his roommate in college was a drag queen, and that he went to his shows a lot. And he talked to me way too confidently to be into me. If he's not gay, then he's definitely not interested," you said, shrugging.

"Babe, he invited you to a party with him, barely knowing you. He definitely finds you attractive," she said, giving you that look she does when she thinks you're being just a bit dumb.

"Okay, but, well-" you cut yourself off, holding your hands out in a gesture of pity. You were dumb when it came to this relationship stuff, downright stupid. You knew that, as frustrating as it was. You wanted to be confident in your suspicion he was into you, but you'd been wrong enough times when you were younger about this sort of thing to assume it now. You'd been made fun of countlessly in high school, person after person laughing at the mere thought that they'd be into you. You were always baffled; you'd been told by some other person that this person had a crush on you, and were only asking them about it because of that information. They were pranks, and it took you embarrassingly long to figure that out. You understood that now, you recognized it had just been childish bullying; but still, even years later, you doubted any instance of even a suggestion that someone found you attractive.

You were different back then; you'd changed so much in the few years you'd lived away from home. But still, you doubted yourself. Maybe you had a complex about being undesirable, but who didn't? And frankly, when you looked around the world, it seemed like more of the "ugly" people had partners than not. It must be more about personality, you reasoned, which made your undesirability all the more painful. A silly, sick side of you began to feel attached to being single, began to feel better than other people for it, even your ride or die perfect friend standing in front of you. You didn't need romantic love like everyone else did, you decided; you had your art to give you passion, your friends to give you companionship. And you could physically satisfy yourself just fine. It was all projection; it was how you coped. How else could you deal with the pain of never being loved, lusted after, wanted the way all of your friends had since puberty?

But even as attached to your single identity as you were, you'd perused the apps last year, a tiny buried part of you wishing and hoping that there was someone out there for you, perfect in every way. It had been a bust, as expected. You felt like a fool for even trying. You had hoped that it would give you at least a little self-esteem, even if no relationship came of it. But it had only driven that painful truth of your undesirable personality deeper into your heart, cracking it further.

"I don't even want a relationship right now, Ti, I've said that for like the past three months," you said, pulling your hands back to your chest. You felt your heart thumping there, trying desperately to come alive despite the year of terror you'd put it through.

"It doesn't have to be a relationship, you could just hook up with him, you know, have a little fun," she answered you, grabbing your hands in hers. "Let's go, let's have some fun. Just relax, spend the evening enjoying ourselves." You hadn't seen her so excited all winter; her moods were severely affected by this season, and it always felt like a part of her left you for the cold months. It made a complex mix of sadness and excitement swirl through you, staring back at her perfect face. There was no way you'd be saying no to her now, despite anything.

"Okay, fine," you sighed, pulling her into a tight hug.

It took little convincing for Sasha and Bibi to join you, and soon the four of you plus Maya were standing on the sidewalk outside, stuck like a barnacle to the side of San's huge group. You were all waiting on two limos, according to him; when he's said this the five of you looked between yourselves with huge wide eyes, grabbing each other's arms and trying desperately not to laugh.

"You realize none of us have ever been to the East Heights, right?" you said to him, the soft arm of his suit jacket brushing up against the exposed skin of your own upper arm.

"That's fine, I've only been once. It's nothing that crazy, the houses are just big," he said, looking down at you, his shoulders intimidatingly broad now that he was standing beside you.

"I thought you said this party is gonna be crazy though," you replied, squinting your eyes playfully.

"Well, it's possible. I don't really know," he responded.

"So you just said that to say it earlier?" you questioned him, head cocked to the side.

"I was trying to make my offer sound enticing," he replied, looking you up and down, that smirk back on his face.

"So you lied to me?" you shot back.

"Hey, like I said, I don't know much about this thing, it could very well be crazy," he responded, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Wow, what have I gotten us into," you said, turning to the group, all of whom were suppressing their laughter at the interaction unfolding in front of them.

"The best night of your life," he answered, nudging your shoulder in a way that almost could have been accidental, making your eyes snap back to his again.

"I hope that wasn't a lie," you said, eyeing him sharply.

"I'll make sure of it," he shot back, one eyebrow raised slightly.

A titter sounded behind you, Tina unable to keep her composure at the ridiculous bickering unfurling between you. Your eyes were locked on each other, faces closer than either of you realized. It was so damn obvious to all of your friends, then, what was about to happen. The two of you couldn't hide it for a second, how affect you were. You were still locked in eye contact when the first limo pulled up, the rest of San's group filing in, waving him goodbye.

"You can go with your friends if you'd like," you said as he closed the door, stepping back.

"Oh they're not really my friends, just guys I know through work. This whole thing tonight is a networking opportunity, what fun," he joked sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Oh wow," you said, eyes glued to the limo as it pulled away. "People network at one in the morning?"

"Us tech bros do I guess, we just love it," he said, laughing sarcastically again. "I don't really like this stuff, but my manager is making me go. He gave me Monday off, so, I can't really complain."

"Wow, you have like a normal job," you said, laughing.

"And you don't?" he asked.

"I just mean, you work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I literally don't know a single other person who does. My mom is a doula, and my twin sister is a nurse, and my dad has early-onset Parkinson's so he's been on disability almost my whole life. And the rest of my friends work here, or work at other bars or restaurants around here. Even my best friend from high school works in a library at her university, but she works weekends and nights."

It all came stumbling out of you so fast, your hand shot up to your mouth.

"Sorry, that was crazy. Just forget all that shit about my dad..." you trailed off, eyes wide with worry as they met his.

"What shit about your dad?" he answered, and your expression immediately changed to one of relief, one of laughter. Just then the second limo pulled up to the curb, and the five of you excitedly gathered by the door, San opening it for you.

"Ladies," he said, bowing his head slightly and beckoning you all to step inside.

"None of us have ever been in a limo either," you told him, chuckling as your friends excitedly squealed while carefully entering the sleek black car.

"Uh, I have, speak for yourself miss thing," Bibi said as she crouched down, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

"Well damn, I guess one of us has," you said to San as you finally stepped inside, his body following quickly after you, rich laughter ringing in your ear.

San, it turned out, was most definitely not gay. Which of course, deep down, you'd already known. You'd known it from the moment he asked you to go to that party with him, from the moment he smirked and your body sizzled under his glare. But he was so different from anyone you'd dated before; too kind, too upfront, too knowledgeable about musicals and theater and all the things you loved so very much. It almost pained you to find out he'd been studying theater in college before switching to computer science. That was why he'd been paired with his freshman roommate; at the time, they'd had the same major. That roommate, Antin, became one of his best friends; the two bonded over coming from overseas, the pressure their parents put on them even thousands of miles away. It was so sweet, so charming, and in the two hours you spent at that raucous party, you learned what seemed like all there was to know about him.

He was too perfect; it was too easy to say yes when he'd asked if you wanted to see his apartment, too easy to bid your friends goodnight as your Uber pulled up in front of their places. You thought of nothing but the hunk beside you, about what he'd look like with that suit strewn on the ground. You tried not to jump his bones the second you were alone, but damn was it hard; as soon as you arrived he'd taken your purse, and placed it in the front closet of his apartment. His apartment was huge, his front closet bigger than the bathroom you shared with three other roommates; it was fancy too, well kept, stacks of books and DVDs in the living room, only two dirty dishes in the bottom of his kitchen sink.

It was all simply too good to be true, and in that moment nothing felt real. You were present, sure, but you felt like you'd been knocked into an alternative timeline, getting to live out the life of someone far better than you, who deserved all this.

"Aren't you hot in that suit?" you asked him, your loose minidress hanging free, your body unburdened with extra fabric. You always kept a few random clothes at work in case you needed to change suddenly, and even though it was the last day of January, this tiny dress had been a great option. Outside you'd thrown a large old flannel of your dad's over it, but at the party you'd tied it around your waist, the mass of bodies creating more heat than you could bear.

"Yeah, I was sweating all night," he laughed, slowly and methodically pulling off his suit jacket, finally revealing the shape of his shoulders to you. Under his white button-up they bulged; you did all you could to stop yourself from just staring, especially as he loosened his tie and finally pulled from his head, setting it down on the small table just inside his front door.

"You can put your shoes in there, if you'd like. Oh and your shirt, here, let me hang it up," he said, reaching for the flannel still tied around your waist. His touch was electric as soon as his hands made contact; even through the material of your dress you felt the spark, your body shivering. It only lasted a second, his nature too respectful to make anything more of a moment like that, especially after what you'd said at the party to him not twenty minutes ago. You wished you could have frozen time, wished every little detail of this night could be burned into your memory forever. It would be hard to believe then that you'd forget a lot of it in just a year, that somehow so much would happen that this one night would come to feel almost insignificant.

"Can I make you some hot cocoa, or tea, coffee?" he asked as he walked towards his kitchen, pouring you both glasses of water.

"Some herbal tea sounds nice, if you have any," you answered, and he opened his pantry to reveal a small collection. You picked out the lavender mix that sounded refreshing, placing the purple tea bag in a black mug he'd set down on the counter. As he set his tea kettle to boil, you hopped up on the counter beside him, bare feet swinging in air.

"So, you think that was the best night of my life?" you quipped, looking sideways at him as he set the kettle to temperature.

"Night's not over," he responded, eyebrows flicking up in amusement.

You were squirming under his gaze, your face now level with his. His shirt and pants fit him immaculately; you were so obviously ogling him, your thighs rubbing together as you did, your eyelids heavy with lust. He could feel it pouring off of you, but he kept replaying what you'd said, and kept trying to keep his composure, because he really wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who slept with the girl right away; he had known too many of those guys at college, seen too many of them back home too, when he visited his brother in the fall. He found the hookup culture he was surrounded by almost unnerving. He'd been raised with integrity, with respect; and being here in a new country had challenged his beliefs, for sure, but not when it came to sex or romance.

But you were determined. Your body had a mind of its own, and this whole night had felt surreal for hours now. Your own, already loose morals were thrown out the window, and you didn't give a fuck. You wanted him now, forget whatever the hell you'd said earlier; you didn't even remember it anymore, too filled with arousal to think straight.

You grabbed onto his arm closest to you, pulling him in.

"Hey, I thought you said-"

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face towards yours, leaning back slightly to arch into him. It was feverish as your lips met, mouths open, your legs already shaking as you wrapped them around his waist. It didn't take long for his hands to find your hips, your waist; he dug in, feeling the softness of you, softness he wanted to be wrapped in forever. He'd kept his composure the whole way here, not putting a hand on your thigh in the Uber, not a hand on your back as you walked through his front door. But now, it had left him; just five seconds of you in his grasp, and he knew he could never let go. His tongue swiped into your mouth, sucking hard on your lower lip, and without thinking he was reaching under your dress, feeling over the bare expanse of skin.

You hadn't worn a bra or panties tonight. He could tell about the bra, from the way your dress caught on your chest, but the panties were a surprise, making his head fuzzy as he reached down to your ass and found it bare for him. Your hands now were desperately grabbing at his over-shirt, trying in vain to undo each pesky button as you kept kissing him, your hands stumbling and failing over and over. Finally, he reached up and just ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and falling onto the floor in a soft rattle. He flung it off his arms, his tight under shirt leaving nothing anymore to your imagination. His abs rippled underneath it; you'd never seen abs like that in person before, weren't sure that they even existed. Especially not on a man who worked in tech, whose face was prettier than a porcelain doll's.

He came back to you, breathing hard; you grabbed at his abdomen, his shoulders, his chest, desperate to feel all of the perfection in front of you. You could smell the sweat on him now, musky and rich notes hitting your nose and making your body heat even more. He moved his mouth to your neck, your ear, making you whine and squirm with pleasure, sharp sparklers of energy running down the entirety of your body. You were pulling at him, desperately, forgetting any sense of where you were, or what you'd planned for tonight. As he licked a stripe up your collar bone you squealed loudly, the feeling ticklish and pleasurable all the same, and you jerked away from him momentarily, falling into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly there was a crash; the mug next to you was sent flying to the floor by your hip, and now it's pieces spread out across the grey tile, littering it in shards.

"Fuck, sorry," you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your open mouth. You were expecting maybe a light chuckle, maybe a shocked noise, for San to want to clean this up right away before you two got to whatever you were doing; instead he laughed deeply, his bright, wide smile back on his face, dimples staring you in the face for the probably thousandth time that night. He looked down to each side of his feet, sighing ever so slightly, before moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes thoughtful.

"Fuck it," he laughed with a shake of his head, grabbing you again, his hand on the back of your neck, soft lips wrapped around your own. You giggled into his mouth, so overcome by the chaotic set of events; but it only took a moment of his lips on yours again for you to melt, your legs around him, your breathing hot and heavy as he grabbed at your dress, pulling it up at the front to reveal your bare crotch to the room, running two of his fingers down your slit to see how wet you were.

"Fuck, San," you gasped, feeling how easily his slippery fingers moved, his movement unexpected.

"You want this, right?" he asked you, voice husky and deep. His eyes were boring into yours, and his look was dark and intense. It made you shiver to look back at him, and a part of you wanted to look away, to not feel the complex string of emotions tumbling through you. It almost felt like dread; dread laced with beauty, laced with desire and sweetness and everything addictive, and you just couldn't bring the rest of yourself to look away.

"Yes, please," you responded, pushing your hips down onto his hand, grinding onto his fingers. "Please fuck me, San."

You'd never said anything like this in your life; you'd only imagined it, or read it. As cheesy as it could feel on the page, in that moment it felt consumingly empowering, downright sexy. You pulled at his belt in front of you, your mouths meeting again, his teeth scraping over your upper lip as he nearly devoured you. Once again, you struggled with undoing his clothing; he moved his hands away from you to unclasp it himself, pulling it hard and tossing it to the ground when he had. Your hands were around his chin, holding his face to you as you messily kept kissing, his hands now working on the button and zipper of his jeans. In a matter of moments he'd pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and held it in his hand, hungrily eyeing your flushed cunt in front of him.

"Let me get a condom," he huffed, clearly having to work at pulling his eyes away from you.

"No, I have an implant," you said, pointing to your left arm. You saw his eyes twitch to side for a moment, like his brain was struggling to process what you'd just said. "It's fine, I can't get pregnant," you added, in case he didn't know what the hell you were trying to say. It took another few moments for him to accept it; but once he did he moved his cock closer to your aching entrance, and rubbed it along your slit where his fingers had been just seconds ago.

"Fuck," you sighed, head hitting his shoulder as he leaned into you, as he spread your wetness over his tip. Your closed eyes cloaked you in almost darkness, only the soft light in the kitchen illuminating the room, and all you could feel was your throbbing cunt and San's movements, already whimpering and moaning in his ear. He lined himself up carefully, pulling your hips to the very edge of the counter to give him room, and slowly sank halfway down.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, the stretch not at all what you expected. He was far bigger than any man you'd ever been with; it almost hurt, and you'd never experienced this before, so you had no idea if this was a hurt that would subside, or a hurt that would grow and fester. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as he slowly pulled out of you again, thrusting back in just slightly deeper, his movements slow and controlled.

"Ahhh, shit," you whined again, grip on his shoulders even tighter.

"I need you to relax for me," he said in your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending tremors of pleasure through you.

"I'm trying," you squeaked out, face stuck in his neck as you tried to breath slowly.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, stilling his movements completely, holding onto your lower back for support.

"No, please don't stop," you whispered, finally finding some control of your breath. "Just give me a second."

San obliged, kissing the top of your head as he ran a comforting hand down your back. You continued to breathe deep, continued to take in his scent, and in a few short moments you felt the walls of your cunt finally release a bit, allowing you to rock yourself against him without pain.

"Okay, I'm ready," you said, bracing yourself, and a moment later you felt him push himself in further, finally bottoming out. You both let out a guttural groan; it felt like you'd discovered new parts of yourselves in that moment, like your bodies were made for each other, made to pleasure each other just the way you needed.

"Fuck, y/n," San moaned your name, your walls tight around him as he pulled back again, thrusting short and soft at first. Hearing your name roll of his tongue made your chest swell; it was far to intense, all of these emotions you were having, for you to utter a thing. Soon he was thrusting faster, setting a steady pace as he held firm onto your hips, his mouth on your neck leaving bruising bites that you'd have to deal with tomorrow. You were breathing ragged, an eruption of feelings so perfect coming from your core that you couldn't quite believe it.

Then it happened; he picked you up by your hips, holding you dead in the air, still thrusting into you. If anything his thrusts were harder, deeper now; the position had given him space, and he used every bit of it, his thrusts becoming longer, harder, his cock nearly falling out of you when he pulled out. Your moans turned to screams; you were no longer aware at all of what sounds you were making, so overcome with the severe intensity of the feelings in your core.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you started babbling, breathing desperately, your hands again grasping at his shoulders.

"What?" he asked between grunts, a chuckle following.

"I didn't- fuck- think this was po-ossible," you stuttered, his thrusts not letting up, the feeling so intense it almost was zapping you back into the moment again, reversing the drifting that your mind had started to do. This felt real; felt too real, too intense. You swore you could feel every vein in his shaft, feel the exact shape of his head. Your orgasm was building, fast, and you'd never come just from penetration.

"Now you know, baby," he chuckled again, not letting up. Soon you were clenching hard, the rippling feelings of your climax building to their peak, your legs around his hips, squeezing him.

"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, biting down on the top of his shoulder, shaking hard.

"Did you come?" he asked, still thrusting hard, wanting you to ride it out as much as you could.

"Yes," you almost sobbed, drool dripping down onto his bare skin. "Slow down," you whined, and he did, gradually slowing his movements until he'd stopped, placing a quick kiss on your neck and making you squeal again.

After that, the night was a blur. He took you again, on the couch, and you came so many times you couldn't keep track. He was flipping you around, holding up your legs; he seemed to know every perfect angle to make your cunt feel even better, and you gladly accepted every movement from him. When he finally came he dropped down between your legs, eating you out as his cum dropped out of you, his face a flushed mess when he looked up to take a breath. You came again; finally, you begged him to stop. Your body was spent, you couldn't take anymore. When you looked at your phone it was nearly six in the morning, and when you ventured a look over to his kitchen window you recognized the first signs of winter dawn, the sky not as dark as it had been.

He made you stay put, cleaning you up in a fluffy towel, picking you up to carry you to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress; then his own clothes came off entirely, and you ogled him all over again, as he scolded you and told you to get some much needed sleep. Wrapped around him your cunt seemed to stay permanently wet; you thought there was no way you'd fall asleep, but it was late, even for you. Soon you were both out cold, San's blackout curtains tricking your bodies. It wasn't until nearly three that afternoon that you woke.

"You stay, I'll go make us some food," San yawned, kissing your forehead, your face smushed in his chest.

"Are you sure?" you pouted, looking up at him. Even with his curtains open the sky outside was dark; what time it was now, you had no idea. After you awoke and showered, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Another slew of hours had flown by, and your pussy was aching, begging you to give her a break. You couldn't help how fucking good it felt, though. You wanted it to never end. You were sure you could be satisfied with your life if all you ever did from now on was fuck him.

"Oh god, don't give me that look," he groaned, turning his head away. You laughed, tugging yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. "I thought you said you were hungry," he said, arms around you too.

"I am," you answered, snuggling into him.

"Well I can't make you food if you're laying on top of me," he responded, squeezing the tops of your thighs.

"I think you're definitely strong enough to carry me around," you said, giggling.

"Oh, is that what you want? You done with walking?" he joked, pinching your thigh.

"Ah, hey!" you squealed, jerking off of him, trying to reach for his ribs to tickle him in retaliation. But just then your stomach rumbled, so loud you both could hear.

"Come on, let me make food. What do you want?" he asked, sitting himself up.

"Do you have eggs?" you said, and he nodded. "Can you make just some toast and scrambled eggs?"

"Of course, anything else?" he responded, standing up off the bed. The naked form of him in front of you was so distracting, especially in the hazy light coming in from outside, the evening street lights shining in through San's huge window. You took a mental screenshot; no one else could ever look this good, you thought, in such low light. It accentuated every nook and cranny of his body; he was so perfectly built, every little part. It was hard not to stare at the curve of his ass as he threw on some sweats, or the muscles of his back as he stretched his arms.

"No, I just have that for breakfast every day. I like simple food," you said, yawning again and sitting yourself up.

"Me too," he smiled, looking back at you for a moment before exiting the room, clinks sounding from the kitchen as he started preparing.

It took you some time to finally get yourself up; your body was wracked with exhaustion, but you'd never felt better. You felt on a permanent high around him; you grabbed your crumpled dress from the floor and slipped it over yourself, finally walking out to the living room to check your phone, which was probably dead. As you came out you saw San on the floor cleaning, the remnants of that poor mug swept into a pile at the corner of his kitchen.

"Oh shit, let me help you with that," you said, making your way over, but San stopped you.

"No, don't walk over here, you'll cut your feet. I'll take care of it, it's no biggie." You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, but already this dynamic felt comfortable. If he really was fine with it, then you were fine letting him deal with the mess you'd made. You turned on your heel and walked over the couch, grabbing your phone off the coffee table, checking the time.

|6:14 pm|

You saw a slew of texts, but your battery was at ten percent, so you ran to your purse to grab your charging cable, plugging it in.

{Titi}

|3:43pm| how was your night bestie?? |5:58pm| please tell me you didn't get kidnapped |6:14pm| fuck sorry, I hadn't looked at my phone till now |6:14pm| I am alive and well

|6:15pm| oh thank god, we were worried |6:15pm| nothing to be worried about 😌 |6:16pm| so how'd it go?? |6:16pm| girl, we fucked for like three hours last night 😭 |6:16pm| HELLO |6:16pm| are you okay??? 😭 |6:17pm| Maya just said you're putting us lesbians to shame 💀 |6:17pm| 💀💀 |6:17pm| we fucked for like three hours this morning too |6:17pm| GIRL |6:17pm| RIP to your vagina |6:18pm| she's never been happier 😭

|6:18pm| this is so crazy |6:18pm| you home now? |6:18pm| I KNOW |6:18pm| no I'm still here, he's making some food for us

|6:18pm| wow |6:18pm| just wow, idk what else to say 😭 |6:19pm| girl same |6:19pm| you busy tomorrow? |6:19pm| no, why? |6:19pm| I'll bring over some dinner at seven, I have so much to tell you |6:19pm| I can't wait 💕

Present

It was nearly noon, when you woke. Slowly your consciousness came back to you; at first you only felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you, and you knew for sure you weren't in your bed, nor on your friend's couch like you'd planned. You were in the place you'd ended up so many times this month; maybe close to twenty of the nights of January you'd spent here. Thinking of it pulled at you. You knew this was a mistake, ending up here, knew something terrible would come of this. But you hadn't had the will this morning to stop it. You woke grumpy, worried, with the events of the morning spiraling through your head, especially Tina's flushed face of agony and the guttural sounds she made as she threw up.

You were worried, as much as she told you not to be. You'd never seen her like this in the five years you'd known her. As soon as your eyes melted open you were reaching for your phone on the night stand, finding it plugged in to San's charger, a glass of water there too.

You shot off a quick text to your group chat with Tina and Maya. How are y'all feeling? You didn't want to smother them with your worry, so you kept it as casual as you could, sipping at the water beside you and scrolling mindlessly through the other notifications littering your screen. There would be no convincing Tina to go get checked out; you had to accept it, had to welcome the fact that it'd be you and Maya keeping her well. She mistrusted doctors, on top of the unneeded expense, and you completely understood why; with the experiences she'd had, there would be no reason to give them a second chance. But she'd always had a stomach of steel; to see her so unwell was unnerving you, tremendously.

Finally you pushed yourself up; your stomach was rumbling, your head still aching with exhaustion, but the feeling was duller than this morning. The sleep you'd just woken from had been helpful, no doubt, but you wished you felt a little more normal today, instead of sleep deprived and emotionally unsteady. You had important work to do; you needed to head home fast, needed to not get distracted by San like you always did. You couldn't afford to spend the rest of the afternoon here eating and watching a musical, forcing him to recreate it with you. You had a musical of your own to edit.

"Hey," he said when you poked your head out of his room, walking gingerly over to him in the kitchen. He was preparing some lunch for himself; a block of tofu lay resting on the counter, as San chopped peppers and onions and broccoli. The smells of ginger and garlic already wafted from the pan, and San stood shirtless, in just grey sweat pants as he cooked, looking like someone out of any person's dreams.

"Hey," you responded, sighing. His body was alight with energy; he must have hit the gym while you were sleeping, which always left him feeling perky and bright. It was wafting off of him, this positive energy, and it couldn't have conflicted more with the heavy stress coursing through you. It was abundant in your tone; you'd gotten less and less good at hiding it from him, how you felt. Especially this last month.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked you, tossing the onions and peppers into his pan before stirring them with a spatula.

"I can make it," you mumbled, crossing past him to the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf.

"Let me do it, I know you're exhausted," he said, coming over to you to grab the carton from your hands.

"No, I want to," you sighed, holding it to your side and out of his reach, a grumpy frown on your face.

"Okay, if you insist," he responded, palms up. Your terrible mood was worrying him deeply, but he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that this afternoon was in fact the time to finally do it. He'd been at the gym almost two hours, pumping himself up, doing every exercise he could think of to distract himself from the dread that was slowly filling him. It was like sand in an hour glass, falling slowly enough that he could forget it if he tried. Which he'd successfully done all morning, until your tired form appeared from his bedroom door.

You started preparing your food in silence, the sizzling of San's stir fry and clinking of dishes the only sounds in the room. You were thankful you'd be leaving him in a good mood; it was always hard to leave when he was sad, or grumpy, because every single part of you needed to make him feel better, needed a happy look on his face for you to feel okay. There was no doubt he was meal prepping for the week, given the amount of food he was making, and you sighed in hoping that the future days were on his mind now, instead of the past few.

"I realized something this morning," he said out of nowhere, tossing in his chopped tofu. Your eggs had just finished, so you turned off the burner, plopped them onto your plate, and grabbed your two slices of bread from the toaster, carefully spreading on the perfect amount of butter.

"What's that?" you asked, mind still elsewhere, running in circles and figure eights.

"We met exactly one year ago, today," he said, voice bright and breathy.

"Oh shit, really?" you asked, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer, then shoving a piece of toast in your mouth.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" he responded, voice lilting a bit. You mindlessly stuffed some eggs in your mouth, savoring the flavor of the local organic eggs that San always had in stock.

"Yeah, I just didn't realize it was that da-" you cut yourself off when you saw his face, his eyes glassy and jaw set. "Sannie, oh my god, don't cry. I'm not that special," you said, almost scoffing at the emotion coming off of him.

"Yes you are," he said, turning back to the pan on the stove, wiping something that must have been a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm really not," you responded, walking back towards his bedroom to find your phone again, which you'd accidentally left behind. Inside his room you could hear him speak from the kitchen, but you couldn't make out the words. You were distracted by the text you'd received from Maya, i'm doing even better, but Titi is still pretty bad. the Tylenol and everything has been so helpful though. and whatever those anti-nausea meds were, please thank San for me. she's able to keep down fluids now.

I'm glad to hear that. I hope she keeps getting better. She looked awful this morning, you responded, typing it out with your right thumb as your left hand balanced your plate of food.

"You gonna eat in here?" San asked from the doorway, and you snapped your head around to meet his gaze.

"No, sorry, just checking my phone. I had texted Maya asking how they were doing," you responded, mouth in a tight line.

"How's Tina?" he asked.

"Fine, it sounds like. Maya said to thank you for all the stuff you got them," you said.

"It's no biggie. I'm glad it's helping," he said, eyes blinking and face neutral. No biggie, the words made you want to roll your eyes. It was always 'no big deal' to him to do so much, and you'd started to realize that those words were total fucking bullshit. 'No biggie' was seemingly just a favorite English phrase of his, one that made him sound selfless and kind in the way he wanted to be. But you could see the flash of irritation in his eyes, you knew damn well that he was upset that you'd called this morning and made him feel obligated to come and help. He'd wanted your thanks for doing so, which you could recognize was fair. But he also should have said no, if he really didn't want to do it. You couldn't help the fact that he'd been lax with you since the start; one year now, as he'd just reminded you, of you pushing his boundaries and him relenting, and somehow he was still frustrated every time it happened. Like he didn't realize this was just how things were.

You waited till he turned around to point your eyes to the ceiling, a long deep sigh matching the movements of your eyes. You just had to eat and get out of here, one simple task. Then you could be home and worrying about the work ahead of you, or you could be on the phone to Tina and checking on her. You couldn't wait for the relief of hearing her voice.

"Did you hear what I said earlier?" San asked as you walked out of his room, sitting yourself down on his couch to finish your food.

"I don't know, what did you say?" you asked, placing your phone face down next to you.

"I asked if you remembered what you said to me that night we met, right before we came here?" he said, his own bowl of food in hand as he sat down a few feet from you.

"I don't think I do," you responded, sighing as you took another huge bite.

"Really?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes really, San, was it something I should remember?" you asked.

"It's just kind of funny, given what happened next," he said, taking a bite of his stir fry. You gave him a confused look, head cocking to the side. "You said, 'sure I'll come to your apartment, but I'm not fucking you'," he said, chuckling.

"I did not," you scoffed, shaking your head at the thought of it.

"You did, I swear," he continued, eyeing you. "Kind of crazy considering that's exactly what you did for the next forty-eight hours."

"Oh my god, shut up," you rolled your eyes, grabbing the throw pillow to your right and smacking his arm with it. He laughed and batted it away, careful to protect his food as you swung it recklessly. "Also, you say that as if I'm the only one involved in that activity, you ass. That was very much a 'it takes two to tango' situation, Sannie."

San laughed hard in response to that, his dimples popping and his chest rising and falling with each chuckle. He was satisfied to have brought out some humor in you; he knew that was the way he could get you to calm down, to feel a little better and be ready for everything he was about to launch into.

"Do you know that you're the only one other than my mom that I let call me Sannie?" he said, voice softer.

"No I didn't- wait, why?" you asked, suddenly really thinking about what he'd said.

"Uh- you just, I..." he looked at you with a confusing expression, face a mixture of what looked like shock and anticipation.

"Sannie is a special nickname only your mom uses for you?" you asked, tone harsher than he'd hoped.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking at you.

"Then why do you let me call you that?" you asked, placing your finished plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, then leaning back and crossing your legs and arms.

"Cause you're special to me," he said, resting the side of his head on his palm, eyeing you deeply now.

"San- I- I thought that was what everyone called you, I thought it was just your nickname. I wouldn't have started calling you that if I'd known it was a you and your mom thing. I'm not trying to be some replacement for her, or something," you stuttered, hands gesturing in front of your face to emphasize your point.

"Of course you're not a replacement for here, god, you're just special to me, can't you understand-"

"San, why would I be the only one who gets to use the special nickname? You have closer friends, a brother, other family you're close to, I'm just a girl you sleep with sometimes. I'm not the love of your life, or something, we're not married with a baby on the way, and now that we're a family unit of our own you're letting me use this special name for you. We're just friends, why didn't you tell me!?" you snapped, cutting him off mid sentence without a care in the world.

"We're not just friends, y/n," he grumbled, face stony. "And I don't see what a big deal it is that I let you use that nickname. You're the one who started using it without even asking me if it was okay," he shot back, face and body completely still.

"Fuck you," you muttered, standing up and grabbing your plate, walking over to the sink to clean it. "I know you think everything bad between us is my fault; you probably somehow think that shit you pulled last night is my fault, too."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, I wanted to apologize-"

"Oh, you wanted to apologize for choking me? Slapping me? Practically raping me?" you turned around, staring at him with wide, petulant eyes.

"Oh god, please don't use that word," he sighed, his food long abandoned as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"Why, cause it's honest?" you shot back, rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I did that baby, I know it was wrong, it was so wrong, I'm just, please know I'm so fucking sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you..." he trailed off, mumbling, a deep sniffle cutting off his words. He was sobbing into his hands, his bare shoulders moving up and down as he heaved, trying with all his might to stop himself from completely breaking down. The sight of it immediately shot right through you; you started crying too, in an instant a huge deluge of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor below. It was so painful, whatever this feeling was; it was like the entire foundation of your body was cracking, like you were about to crumble in on yourself and die on the spot.

"Sannie, please, stop crying," you managed to say, haphazardly wiping the tears from your eyes. But they kept coming; they wouldn't stop until his stopped, you realized; there was something in you that was breaking with him, like your beratement of him was a boomerang, swinging back and hitting you too.

"I can't, I'm sorry," he squeaked, and you'd never heard his voice like that, never seen him break down so severely.

"Sannie, please," you cried, and suddenly your feet were rushing over to him, and you wrapped your hands around his folded torso, your tears now falling onto the smooth plane of his back. "Please, when you cry I cry, and I don't wanna fucking cry right now."

It made him cry harder, hearing the desperation in your tone; he tried with all his might to calm himself, to take some deep breaths. But he didn't have the strength; the exhaustion from this past month was really catching up with him, and that high he was riding from the gym this morning was long gone. There was nothing he could do now to stop this; he never cried like this, he was sure the last time was more than a decade ago. He had no idea how to put an end to it.

"I'm sorry I used that word, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you chocked out, breathing through your tears as best as you could, holding onto him for dear life. There were no words on his tongue; he couldn't think of anything now, couldn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say to you, the conversation he'd worked himself up to all morning. Instead he was left with this terrible hollow hole in his chest; one you had created, one you filled, one that he feared more than anything. Your tears were the worst thing for him; the gash you'd carved only grew, deeper, wider, getting closer to the exact shape of you, and all he could do was sit himself up and grab you, wrapping you around him and holding you tight.

"You're not just my friend," he said, voice thin and weak with tears. "And right now I fucking hate you."

next part ->

Taglist: @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024 @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @completelyjae

@midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27

Thank you for reading and supporting me my loves! <3333

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez san #choi san #choi san smut #san smut #san x reader #choi san x reader

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dawngyu · 1 day ago

Text

OKAY, NINA. YOU KNOW HOW I patiently waited for this like the good girl I am… RIGHT??

BUT 26K. LIKE, WOW. OKAY. (I’M LIVING FOR THIS DAY BECAUSE OF IT, BUT THOSE TAGS? THEY’RE GIVING ME HEART PALPITATIONS.)

spoilers under the cut!

The first few paragraphs? UGH. I adore how you wrote them. Her inner monologue?? I’m such a sucker for that because it explains so much and sets the perfect mood—and you NAILED it. Wowowow. The way she’s torn between Beomgyu and Soobin… I know you planted those seeds back in Part 1, but girl, you reaped them beautifully here. You’re insanely talented—I swear, I need to kiss you.

And the dialogues—I love how you bring out each character’s personality just through how they speak. Her longing for Soobin?? My GOD. I’m on the verge of sobbing.

“I think so. If not, then I’ll be at Soobin’s place.”

For the first time, Beomgyu has the decency to not make a face when you bring up Soobin. Instead, he looks away and lets out a heavy exhale. Well, improvement is improvement. You’ll take it.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Some of his friends.” You see him tense a bit at your side from the information. A slight unease fills you, but you don’t let it consume your mood. Tonight will be fun. You can’t let anything ruin it already.

“Are they all guys?”

You pause for a second in thought. “I’m not sure.”

He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “So you’re going to his place with a bunch of random guys?”

OKAY—this scene was such an eye-opener for who Beomgyu really is. I’ve dated a guy like this before… and let me tell you, it did not end well. (We dated—like, full-on dated. And here? They’re not even official yet. But I’m trying to adjust my lens because it’s GYU??? Sick behavior.)

AHHH, THE SCENES WITH TAEHYUN, KAI, AND SOOBIN. (SOOBIN IS GIVING ME BUTTERFLIES.) My heart twists every time with Soobin. The fact that he wants her to be his before kissing her? A label. A clear signal. His integrity… honestly, it’s making me feel so small.

“Don’t worry about it. You could take a year if you need.” His words are so effortless, and he really means it, which pushes your heart further towards a path alongside him.

IM GONNA CRY???

“You want me to change? You want me to be more like him?” he asks. There’s something unhinged in his expression. It’s like he’s losing his grip on his sanity. Fear creeps up your spine, but it doesn’t overshadow your frustration.

OKAY, BEOMGYU?? NINA?? I SCREAMED. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. F. The manipulation—I can’t. He knows he can’t win her heart yet… so he tries to get to her physically. AND THE SMUT?? HELLO?? It has me in a chokehold—I don’t even know if I’m breathing right now…

OKAY, YEONJUN CAME IN STRONG HERE. But honestly, I’m glad he told her what Beomgyu’s been saying behind her back. A guy who kisses and tells… sighs deeply I’m unwell. The confrontation is inevitable at this point, and is it safe to say I’m crying now? Because you’re starting to crush my heart.

GOD. YOUR WRITING. I HATE THAT I LOVE U.

The manipulation Beomgyu’s pulling—UGHHH ASJDHASDG. I fear it would work on me… banging my head against the wall.

Somehow, Beomgyu becomes the only person you don’t feel guilty being around. When you’re with Soobin, you feel guilty for what you’ve done with Beomgyu. When you’re with Chaewon, you feel guilty for not taking her advice and controlling your life more. With Beomgyu, you don’t have to feel guilty, as long as you don’t let yourself think too hard.

OH NO. I see it now… THE FACT THAT HER PHONE WENT MISSING?? AUSDGHUAISGD. I’m officially starting to have trust issues too. This just proves how deep and immersed I am in your writing.

He drops to his knees as a sob escapes him. Unintelligible pleading escapes his lips, but you can’t allow it into your mind. If you stay here a second longer, he’s going to find your soft spots and attack. Adrenaline forces you to start moving.

THIS. OMG. I’M AFRAID THIS MIGHT WORK ON ME TOO. I’m so sorry. (God… the writing. Again.)

And honestly, I feel for the reader. Sometimes, when you really want someone and the path to them feels impossible, it’s so easy to fall for someone else’s manipulation—because it seems easier. But deep down, it’s not. Ugh, I don’t know. I’m so conflicted.

“He fell for you?” he fills in. “I can see why.” He brushes your hair back. Even now, his smile is pure and soft.

i’m crying… completely lost for words. you’ve absolutely shattered my heart. don’t think I’ll be able to process this for at least three business days.

He steps back. “I’m glad I knew you. You’re the best thing this city has to offer.”

:((((( (kms)

I honestly don’t even know how I managed to finish this… Maybe it’s the tissues piling up on my desk from wiping my eyes that got me through. I love it. I love how you, time and time again, differentiated Soobin and Beomgyu—their positives, their flaws. The way you balanced it all was perfect. And the way you ended it? I have to say, you’re such a brave writer for choosing that path. Because at the end of the day, THIS IS YOUR FIC.

I’m truly honored to have had the chance to read this masterpiece—and even more honored to call you my friend.

I can’t wait to see what else you’ll bring. I love you ninaaa. xxx

PS: you deserve an award for writing this, really.

cold, cursed city (part 2)

summary: You wish your best friend would just leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

word count: 26k

tags: ANGST, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, crush!soobin, possessiveness, manipulation, arguments, very bad reckless dumb decisions, codependency, beomgyu gets a bit crazy

smut tags: multiple smut scenes yet again sigh, switch!gyu, switch!reader, handjob, masturbation, fingering, squirting lollll, praise, degradation, pet names (puppy, baby, etc), overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, mind breaking kinda, utilization of a mirror, some pussy slapping, dubcon!! please beware!

notes: the smut here is so depravedddjshjshdjdjhs 😭 mind the angst in all caps btw… don’t get too mad at me LMAO. this is the final part btw! enjoyyyy<3

Being home feels so awkward now. You feel like you have to avoid Beomgyu, and that’s something you never would have imagined. You wonder if there’s any going back now in your friendship. Will it ever be normal again? It will take some time, you think, but you don’t doubt it. You can’t doubt it. It’s just that you need some time right now.

A part of you is thankful that he leaves you alone. It reprieves you of the constant guilt you were battling with, and you can talk to Soobin without feeling like a liar. Another part of you is terrified that he’s leaving you alone. It’s so unlike him to not be clingy and talkative. You wonder what he’s been going through these past few days.

You don’t even eat dinner together anymore. When you get home from work, you grab something quick to eat and go to your room as soon as you’re finished. The only times you’ve seen Beomgyu since your last conversation is in passing, when you see his figure walk down the hall or pop back into his room.

You really hope he’s okay. You can’t stand to dwell on it too much, obsessing over how he might be dealing with this. Maybe it’s been easy for him. Honestly, he probably needed this too. He must have been going insane the same way you were in his attempts to keep you to himself.

But you do miss him. You miss him when you’re sitting at the table, staring at an empty chair across from you. You miss him when you’re wiping off your makeup, looking for his presence behind you in the mirror. You miss him when you’re laying in bed, watching a movie on your laptop all alone. You miss him a lot.

You’re getting ready for work, staring blankly at yourself in the mirror as you fix your hair. You don’t really have anything to look forward to today. You’re not seeing Soobin after work, Chaewon’s been busy all week, and Beomgyu’s not talking to you. Maybe you’ll invite one of your other friends to hang out later. You hate feeling so lonely.

You grab your purse and head to the kitchen, opening a breakfast bar to eat before you put on your jacket and shoes. You’re about to head out, but a small bright-colored paper on your fridge catches your attention. That wasn’t there last night. You step closer to the fridge and lean in to read the post-it note.

Won’t be back till late tonight. Also eat up the fruits they’re gonna go bad!

Huh, you wonder why he didn’t just text you that. You take the note off the fridge and fold it neatly into your pocket. Your hand is wrapped around it for the whole duration of your walk to work.

When you get back home, you already know what you’ll eat for dinner. You feel a little happier than you have been the past few days as you bite down on the fruits, feeling giddy at the smallest hint of reconnection with Beomgyu. Not talking to him for so long was taking a toll on you.

After you finish cleaning up, you decide to write Beomgyu a note too.

Fruit is all done. Mission accomplished

With a satisfied smile, you stick the post-it on the same spot Beomgyu put his. Maybe a part of you hopes he’ll hang onto it the same way you did with his.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Beomgyu normally isn’t awake when you leave for work; today, he is. You stop in your tracks for a second when you see him sitting at the table, resting his head on his arms. You consider stepping into the bathroom to give him time to run off to his room, but decide against it when he looks at you with brightened eyes.

“Good morning,” he says when you finally enter the kitchen. You give him a small smile.

“You’re up early,” you note as you grab something quick for breakfast. You keep your distance, standing at the counter even if you yearn to leap into the seat across from him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explains simply.

“About what?” You keep your guard up.

“Anything,” he says. “I just miss talking to you.” Your standoffish demeanor melts, and your eyes soften. You know how he feels.

“Me too.” You finally move into your seat, excited to finally see something besides an empty chair when you eat here. “What have you been up to recently?”

He shrugs. “Playing games. Sitting in my room. Working. What about you?”

“Pretty much nothing,” you answer. While a part of the conversation does feel weird, seeing as you’re trying to reconnect with your literal best friend, it doesn’t feel stiff or awkward. You’re more happy than anything to hear his voice again. It’s been a long few days.

“We need to do more with our lives,” Beomgyu laughs. It feels good to see a smile on his face again.

“No literally, my screen time this week is embarrassing. Netflix has seen me more than you have in the past five days.” You mean it as a lighthearted joke, but Beomgyu only frowns a little at that. He looks away for a few seconds, then back at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Why don’t we do a movie night tonight then?” he offers. You light up at his suggestion.

“Yes! I’ll pick up some take-out for dinner too.” You clasp your hands in excitement. A semblance of normalcy is coming back to you, and it tastes so sweet.

“I’m so happy,” Beomgyu says, and it shows on his face. You resist the urge to pat his head at how cute he is.

“Me too.” You get up from your chair and throw out your trash. “I’ve gotta head out now,” you announce, looking at the time.

“Okay, have fun at work!” You feel his stare on you as you gather all your things and move towards the door.

“Thanks, I’ll try,” you say before heading out.

Work feels less stressful today. You don’t feel as frustrated at your little mistakes as you have been recently. You talk to your coworkers a little more than usual at lunch, and you even offer to help on an overdue project for the company, feeling more generous than usual.

As you walk back home, take-out bag in hand, you find yourself feeling foolish for ever worrying that you and Beomgyu couldn’t go back to normal. It was so easy to fall back into this, it’s as if it was second nature. As long as Beomgyu knows not to cross the line, this night will prove that you made the right choice. See, you can have both Soobin and Beomgyu in your life.

Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket to check the notification. It’s a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Hey, if you’re not busy do you want to grab dinner?

You pout, hating to have to reject him.

Omg I literally just got food :(

[Soobin] That’s okay!

[Soobin] There’s always tomorrow

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling. Today is going so well, you almost can’t believe it. Finally, finally you get a day like this, where the world is kind to you again. Suddenly you find yourself more grateful for all the people you have in your life.

Tomorrow it is then!!

Beomgyu’s already sitting on the couch when you enter your apartment. You quickly take off your shoes and jacket so you can dash to your spot next to him, placing the take-out bag on the table in front of you.

“Hiii,” you greet while pulling a blanket into your lap.

“You’re finally back,” he says, smiling. You get yourself cozy as Beomgyu rips open the take-out bag, pulling out all the food.

“Yeah, I stayed a little longer to help with a few extra things.” You grab the remote to start scrolling through movie options. “What do you feel like watching?”

Beomgyu hums in thought. “Something scary?”

“That’s more for autumn, though,” you say. You start scrolling through some comedy movies instead. Those are always fun to watch with Beomgyu.

“Why’d you ask me what I want to watch then?” he laughs. You hold back your smile and whack his shoulder with the remote. He pouts at you in faux hurt as he places a hand over the impacted spot.

“Same reason you ask me what I want for dinner.” You scroll past a bunch of movies, trying to find one you haven’t seen that actually looks interesting. It’s a difficult task when you and Beomgyu have already watched so many movies together.

“It’s gonna take longer to find a movie than it is to watch one,” Beomgyu complains through a mouthful of food.

“Ew, finish chewing.” You keep your eyes on the screen, but you see him snicker in your peripheral. You finally land on a movie that sounds compelling, turning to Beomgyu to gauge his reaction.

He nods. “This one’s good.” You click on it and turn up the volume, then abandon the remote in favor of grabbing some food.

It feels just like a movie night a month ago would have felt. You fill the air with laughter and banter, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The only difference this time is that when you finish eating, you don’t cuddle into Beomgyu’s side. You have to be more mindful of keeping space between you now.

You laugh so hard at one point that you have to pause the movie to catch your breath and wipe your tears. “Oh my god, this was so needed,” you say to Beomgyu, still fighting off the last of your laughter.

“It literally was,” he agrees. “The past few days were legit the worst of my life.”

Your laughter finally dies when you hear that. “The worst? Why?”

Beomgyu laughs a little, but it doesn’t sound genuine. “I was scared that you hated me now.”

You turn your head to Beomgyu, but he doesn’t look back at you. God, did he seriously think that? You would never hate him. A weight falls onto your shoulders, and your heart aches.

“Well, don’t think like that ever again,” you say. He finally looks at you. You channel all your sincerity into your gaze. “Even if I’m mad at you, I still love you. You’re my best friend.”

It takes a second for him to react. He gives you a small smile that looks awfully forced, then looks down at his lap. “I love you too,” he says. You don’t want to ruminate on how weird that felt, so you take the remote to resume the movie.

“Back to watching,” you say, leaning back into the couch.

Once you finish the movie, Beomgyu helps you clean the mess on the table, and the light mood persists. You’re glad that you didn’t ruin your friendship with Beomgyu, cause you only feel this comfortable and at ease with a select few people. When you go to bed, you almost cry thinking about your day. You knew that you were having a hard time, but you didn’t realize how hard it was until you got a slice of your normal life back.

A feeling aside from happiness grows in your chest too, something more reflective: you feel proud of yourself. It was hard setting your boundaries with Beomgyu, but you’re so glad you did. Even this one day serves as evidence that you made the right choice.

You can barely fall asleep because you’re so happy, but you have work tomorrow, so you force your eyes shut and wait impatiently to see what the day brings.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“How have you been?” Soobin asks as you seat yourself in front of him. The restaurant he chose is a warm, cozy one, which is a relief. You were worried that he might pick somewhere too fancy, because you had no time to change out of your office attire.

“I’ve actually been pretty good, how about you?” You’ve been looking forward to talking to Soobin again. Ever since he asked you to be his girlfriend, you’ve been itching to feel ready for the label. You won’t force it upon yourself, but you know you’ll be there soon. You’re once again reminded of how lucky you are that Soobin’s willing to wait for you.

“I’m good too,” he answers. You love his smile, you hope he never stops giving it to you. The two of you catch up a bit on life, talking about work and friends. He seems to have been busy this week.

The food at the restaurant is great, but that’s no surprise because Soobin always knows the best places in the city. The night passes quickly, and you find yourself walking back home all too soon. He accompanies you when you ask him to walk you to your apartment. You blamed it on how late it is, but it’s actually because you want more time with him.

“Are you free on Saturday?” Soobin asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“For you, yes. What do you have in mind?” You want to hold his hand so bad, but you don’t know if you’re at that stage yet. You crave the weight of his hand in your own, swinging between the two of you. You want to lean into his side and engulf yourself in the brewing romance.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? I’ve been talking about you a lot, and I know I promised you I’d introduce them.”

You light up at that, making sure to look up at him so he sees your grin. “That would be so fun.”

You’re thrilled at the idea that he talks about you with his friends a lot. Whew. Good thing you’re already outside, cause you need the fresh air. He’s everything you could ask for in a man.

“We’d be meeting at my place if that’s okay,” he says, sounding a little shy as he brings it up. You can’t hold yourself back now—you grab his hand and squeeze it excitedly.

“Of course! I’m dying to see your home. And your friends.” You can imagine the nerdy little decorations he might have lying around his place. You’d let him ramble about each and every little trinket for hours on end if he wanted to.

You’ve arrived at your street all too soon, finding yourself wanting to slow your steps to get a little more time with Soobin. “Thank you for taking me out today,” you say as you see your apartment come into view. You stop walking so that you can fully turn your body toward him. You just want one last good look before you’re off.

“Thanks for giving me the time,” he responds. His warm, sincere words always find the right way to strike your heart.

“I’ll see you Saturday, then.” You send him a parting smile, backing up a couple steps. “Good night, Soobin.”

“Good night.”

As you walk away, you have a revelation. Your body aches to run back to him, you feel like you’re missing something and you can’t quite end the night yet. There’s something that leaves you feeling only half fulfilled. There’s something more you crave.

You wanted to kiss Soobin. Your wish is left ungranted, lips tingling with the feeling of what could have been.

Your feet pause for just a second when the realization hits you again. You wanted to kiss Soobin. You wanted to feel his arms around you, wrapped in a hug that meant more than just a hug. You wanted to hold his face in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. You wanted to kiss him.

Oh, your poor heart. Where do you store all this longing?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Saturday comes faster than you anticipate. You change into outfit after outfit, trying to find the perfect thing to wear. You don’t want to over dress, but you don’t want to look like you don’t care at all either. What do you even wear to a get together for a friend group you don’t know?

You settle on a cute dress that you bought while shopping with Chaewon some time ago. It’s modest enough to wear casually, but pretty enough to make you feel confident in it. You’ll have to wear tights to save your legs from the cold, but that’s okay. You move to your vanity so you can do your hair, looking at yourself in every angle in the mirror.

“Where are you headed?” The sudden voice startles you, and you turn around to see Beomgyu standing by your door. You didn’t even notice him enter your room. You wonder how long he’s been there.

You look back in the mirror, fixing your hair. “Just meeting some people,” you answer. Beomgyu steps closer to you, only stopping once there’s just a few inches separating you. You look at him through the mirror. His eyes trail down your body.

“Well, you look pretty.” He fixes the strap of your dress on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, and you forget what you were about to do. “Thank you.”

His hand trails down your arm and stops at your elbow, rubbing your skin. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I have a jacket. Plus, I’ll be indoors,” you answer.

He hums and nods. “Are you coming back tonight?”

“I think so. If not, then I’ll be at Soobin’s place.”

For the first time, Beomgyu has the decency to not make a face when you bring up Soobin. Instead, he looks away and lets out a heavy exhale. Well, improvement is improvement. You’ll take it.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Are they all guys?”

You pause for a second in thought. “I’m not sure.”

He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “So you’re going to his place with a bunch of random guys?”

You pucker your lips and look down, feeling like you’re getting scolded. Was this a bad decision? Maybe you should have done this at a public place. Beomgyu’s words worry you. Soobin’s not that kind of guy, though, and you’re sure his friends are just as great as he is. He’s thoughtful and always concerned about your feelings. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I trust him,” you say, making Beomgyu scoff. “Gyu, please.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… worried.” He meets your eyes in the mirror. He really does look worried. You realize that maybe it’s not selfishness driving his words this time, not the need to keep you to himself, but the need to make sure you’re safe. Your heart softens at that.

“I’ll be okay,” you promise, giving him a small smile. “I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.” He nods and stays quiet for a second.

“Where does he live?” Beomgyu asks. You freeze at his question, but he’s quick to explain, “So I know where to go if something happens.”

He means well, you’re sure, but you’re still wary about giving him Soobin’s address. Of course you understand his concern, but another part of you wonders what he’ll do with it if nothing happens. He doesn’t exactly have a great streak with Soobin.

Is this you being paranoid? You feel like you have a legitimate reason to be cautious, but you also feel bad for thinking about your best friend like he’s some freak that’ll show up to Soobin’s house for no reason.

“I’ll just share my location if it comes to that.” You hope he doesn’t feel offended.

“Let me walk you to his place at least,” Beomgyu pleads. You sigh, trying not to look at him and focusing on your appearance instead.

“Don’t be so worried. I’ll be back by ten. Does that make you happier?”

He doesn’t hide his smile. “You know it does. You should watch me play League when you get back.”

You roll your eyes. “Watch you get it on with your one true love?”

“Weirdo. I love more things than just League.”

“Like Overwatch?” That earns you a smack to the back of your head. “Hey! Careful with my hair!”

You catch a glimpse of the time when your phone lights up, and you realize you’ve been taking too long to get ready. Why does time only fly in the most inconvenient moments? You take one final glance at yourself, ignoring Beomgyu’s frame in the mirror beside you.

“You sure you don’t need me to walk you there?” Beomgyu asks. You turn to him with a smile, and it takes a surprising amount of effort to not go up and loop your hands around his neck. You can’t help but feel endeared by his cuteness. You stay quiet for a few seconds just to look into his eyes.

“I’m sure,” you finally answer. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Beomgyu sits on your bed, and you wonder if that’s where he plans on staying while you’re out.

“Be safe,” he says as you’re heading out of your room.

You look over your shoulder with a grin. “No promises!” The flash of fear on his face makes you laugh. “I’m just kidding!”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You gather your breath as you stand before Soobin’s door, not wanting to knock until you’ve fully collected yourself. Your heart races in anticipation—well, also because you walked twice as fast as usual to get here, but mostly anticipation. Soobin seemed to get along with your friends, so you can assume that his friends should get along just fine with you too.

Finally, you tap your knuckles against the door, swaying on your feet as you wait for Soobin to emerge. It’s cold outside, the kind of cold where your breath fogs up with even the tiniest exhale, so you hope he’s quick to answer your knock.

You give Soobin a hug as soon as he opens the door. Part of it is to feed off some of his warmth, but most of it is because you’re excited to see him. His arms wrap around you to hold you close to him, and he doesn’t let go until you do.

“Are your friends here yet?” you ask when you pull away.

“Yes, they’re in the living room,” he answers. “Did you want a drink or anything?”

You shake your head. You’re too impatient to see his friends, wondering what kind of people he hangs out with. You follow him into the living room, and your eyes immediately fall on the two boys on the couch. It makes sense that his friend group is on the smaller side. They must be very close.

You wave and introduce yourself to his friends cheerfully. They do the same, and you learn that his friends are named Taehyun and Kai. Kai seems just as shy and endearingly awkward as Soobin, but Taehyun is pretty quick to open up to you. You find yourself talking to him a lot. You’re glad that you’re not the only chatty person here.

“So how’d you guys meet?” you eventually ask them, interested in how their friend group formed. The question makes Kai and Soobin laugh.

“I was friends with both of them before they knew each other,” Taehyun starts, leaning forward as he tells the story. “I had this match I wanted them to watch”—

“Match?” you interrupt, tilting your head.

“Yeah, I was really into boxing at the time.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the information. That explains his muscular physique. You can’t imagine Soobin watching a boxing match, though. “Oh, boxing, wow.”

“Obviously I won the match, but that’s beside the point.”

“You did not win,” Soobin chimes in with an incredulous laugh.

“Yes I did! I literally won by knockout!” Taehyun defends.

“I still feel like the other guy got way more hits in than you,” Soobin says.

“I think you’re just still mad from what happened that night.” That piques your interest.

“Why? What happened?” you ask.

“He’s gonna tell it way more dramatically than it was,” Soobin warns.

“That’s probably true,” Kai chimes in.

“I’ll say exactly what happened,” Taehyun starts. “After my match, I went to Soobin and Kai, and we all got to talking. Eventually, I brought them to the practice rooms so I could show them some basic MMA moves.”

“After basically forcing us to!” Soobin exclaims. “I tried to say no!”

Taehyun starts laughing already, seemingly caught up in the memory. It puts a smile on your face as you wait for him to finish the story. “These guys start swinging with the weakest moves I’ve seen in my life,” he says through his laughter. “And I was trying to motivate them, but when I pushed the sandbag so it would swing toward Soobin, it hit him so hard it knocked him over.”

You cover your mouth with your hands, concealing your amusement and looking towards Soobin to gauge his reaction to the story. He wears a sheepish smile and leans his head down, rubbing his arm to ease his embarrassment. Taehyun’s still laughing his ass off when you look back at him.

Kai stands to Soobin’s defense, “He didn’t really get knocked over, he just stumbled back.”

“He did more than stumble back,” Taehyun says. “He had his arms swinging in circles to save himself and everything.” That image gets a chuckle out of you.

“So upon my first impression of Soobin, I could tell he was on the unathletic side. I kind of am too, though,” Kai says.

“Don’t worry, Soobin. I don’t think I’d fare any better in the MMA world,” you say.

“We can be the world class losers of boxing instead,” he jokes.

The night lives on with lots of laughter and snacks. You start playing card games at one point, to which they have to extensively explain the rules first, and you end up having more fun than you expected to have. Turns out you’re not too shabby of a Spades player.

Taehyun and Kai head out after a couple hours, saying goodbye to you and telling you that they hope to see you again soon. You actually enjoyed yourself a lot today, so you wouldn’t mind seeing them again either.

Once Soobin’s friends are out the door, it leaves just the two of you in his living room. You see Soobin yawning and stretching out in his chair. “Are you tired?” you ask. His sleepy nod makes you laugh a little.

“You can sleep on my bed if you want. I’ll take the couch,” Soobin offers. What a sweetheart. You must be smiling so stupidly, but you can’t help it. Your heart is a fickle thing.

“Thank you, but I promised Beomgyu I’d come back home tonight,” you say.

Soobin looks out the window. “It’s so dark out, though. And it’s freezing, your jacket won’t be enough. Your legs will be ice.”

“It’s okay, I’m good at handling the cold.” You aren’t really, but you don’t want him to worry. He frowns, looking down at your outfit.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me. I think you look pretty in everything. I’d love for you to dress warmly next time.” There’s a distinct hammering in your chest now. His compliment makes you weak in the knees.

He grabs your coat and delivers it to you. You thank him as you put it on, zipping it all the way up to prepare for the cold. You smile up at him in hopes that it eases his worries.

“Let me grab you a winter hat,” Soobin says, disappearing for a minute. He emerges once more with a beanie in hand, placing it on your head for you. “There. To keep your ears warm.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at yourself shyly. You’re not the type to get all flustered and quiet, but something about Soobin brings it out of you.

“Thanks for seeing me, and for meeting my friends.” You meet his eyes again when he says that.

“Of course. Today was fun,” you say. You stare at each other for a few long seconds as you linger by his door. You don’t really want to leave.

Soobin is every bit as handsome as ever, and suddenly it’s killing you that you’re not all over him. You want to grab his shoulders and pull him close, let your souls intertwine for just a few moments. You want to feel his breath on your face, you want his eyes on your lips and a yearning to stir inside him.

Your heart jumps, every thought in your head is filled with something about kissing Soobin. You’re so easily reduced to instincts when your mind is clouded like this. Your face is pulled by some unknown force closer and closer toward his face. Your eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head just slightly.

All to meet nothing.

“Not yet…” Soobin says, slowly retracting his face. You watch him back away from you, and the inches start to feel like miles. A sense of humiliation washes over you. Your face heats up. Why did you do that?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking up at him apologetically. At least he doesn’t seem mad or upset—that would kill you.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t be.” He presses his lips to your forehead. You reach for his hand, holding it so that you know he won’t try to leave. He accepts your touch easily, lacing your fingers together and staring into your eyes. There’s a warmth in there that makes you want to lean in and try to kiss him again, but your humility saves you from that.

“Can I ask, when will you be ready?” Your voice is meek, and a part of you almost fears his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready to call me your boyfriend,” he answers softly, simply. You nod, considering his words. Your gaze must be distant because you’re so deep in your thoughts, wondering if maybe you are ready now.

Does your heart stop at the idea of calling him yours because it entices you, or because it scares you? You don’t want to waste Soobin’s time standing here to contemplate it; you know you’re going to need more than a couple minutes to figure this out. No matter how much you want to, you can’t act on impulse with him—you want to foster a love that’s true and natural.

“I think I’ll have that answer soon,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it. You could take a year if you need.” His words are so effortless, and he really means it, which pushes your heart further towards a path alongside him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say, blinking up at him sweetly with a small smile.

He squeezes your hands. “Soon can’t come soon enough.”

You giggle, then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “As a goodbye present.” His blushing cheeks at your action serve as a goodbye present for you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Something changed last night. Your mind can’t stray from Soobin for too long, wondering when you’ll see him next, what he’s doing right now, how his day has been. You feel a yearning unlike any kind you’ve felt before. Your girlish heart has become something weak, so prone to go haywire at the slightest thought of him.

More than anything else, you think of calling him yours. You think of how you’d be able to spend the night at his place, cuddling up to him and falling asleep in his arms. You think of how you could stare into his eyes and call him your boyfriend. You could lean in and kiss him whenever you wanted, you could let him call you sweet pet names.

You think you might be ready. You want to be Soobin’s girlfriend.

You’re freaking out, body buzzing as you pace around your room, waiting for Chaewon to pick up the phone.

“Heyyyyy,” her voice greets through the phone, and you finally stop pacing to focus on talking.

“I got huge Soobin news,” you say, getting straight to the point.

“Tell me!!!” she screeches.

“I think I’m gonna ask him to be my boyfriend next time I see him.” That earns you an even higher pitched screech.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m so excited! Oh my god. What happened?”

“I literally just can’t stop thinking about being in a relationship with him. It feels like I’m going through withdrawals whenever I’m not with him. He’s been wanting to put a label on us, but I’ve been pushing it off till now,” you explain.

“I’m so invested in this. You would be the cutest couple ever. I will gladly be your third wheel and take all your cute Instagram photos for you,” she rambles.

“So you think it’s a good idea?” Her approval is important to you, and you’re desperate for her to give you a little more confidence in this.

“Yes, do it. As long as you make me your maid of honor.”

You laugh, so relieved that Chaewon supports you in this. You hope Beomgyu takes it just as well, but of course that’s wishful thinking.

“What’s the right way to ask him? Should I be casual or go all out with some extravagant date night?” you ask.

“Come on, it’s you we’re talking about. Obviously you’re gonna go crazy with it.” You laugh because she’s totally right.

“I’m thinking a hotel by the sea and a rose petal path to the bed. And candles, like so many it’s a fire hazard.”

“Yes, and then those eat me panties,” she adds. You burst out laughing at the idea. “Body oil too probably.”

“Oh, you got the whole vision. You want me to record it for you too?” you tease.

“No need, I’ll be hiding in your suite’s closet.”

“Thrilling. I finally get to help you live out your voyeuristic dreams.”

“Right? It’s a win-win,” she says. “But anyway, how do you think Beomgyu’s gonna react?”

You hum in thought. “I don’t know, but we’ve pretty much gone back to normal over the past few days. He didn’t put up a huge fight when I went to Soobin’s last night.”

“Girl, hold up. You went to Soobin’s place?!”

“Yep.”

She’s quiet for a second. “Did he rock your world?” You smile and roll your eyes.

“We didn’t have sex, I just met his friends. They were very nice, by the way.”

She tsks. “I’m so mad, you missed out on such a perfect opportunity to sex him up.”

“Well, I’ll let you know when that happens.”

“Please do.”

“Anyway,” you say, getting back on track. “I’ll tell Beomgyu when he gets back from work. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if he gets all annoying about it. It’s actually pissing me off just imagining it.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not his life. You don’t even have to tell him,” Chaewon reasons.

“I mean, he’s my best friend, he should know. You and him are the two people I talk to about everything.”

“Yeah, but at this point you should be more focused on protecting your peace. What Beomgyu doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

You know that Beomgyu would find out eventually, though, and then he’d be even more mad at you for not saying something sooner. Any peace you’d have would be very temporary and delicate.

Chaewon starts up again, “I honestly think you should tell him after you make things official. That way he can’t stop you from doing it.”

You hold back a groan, not wanting to weigh out the options. “He’ll be so upset if I don’t tell him first,” you say.

“Still. He knows he can make you halt those plans, and I don’t want you getting hurt again.” You frown, but it softens you to hear how much Chaewon cares about your feelings.

“I’ve got a few hours until he comes back to decide,” you say.

“Just know that I’m one hundred percent team ‘don’t tell him’. Up to you, though.”

“I’ll let you know. Anyway, I’m gonna go now. Going to rehearse this conversation in my head.” Chaewon laughs and says her goodbye, then you hang up.

You drop onto your bed with a sigh. You hope Beomgyu can keep being normal about Soobin, and a part of you really thinks he can, but what if he hates you after this? He might decide he doesn’t want anything to do with you if you’re going to be in a relationship with a guy that he hates. (Hates for no reason, but that’s not something you choose to dwell on today.)

Beomgyu should understand why you want a love life. You crave a second half, someone who will mold you into a better person and navigate the rest of your life with you. Soobin can soften your rough edges. He’s got all the patience and goodness of heart that you need in someone. You want to know that a kind of love exists that you have not yet felt, something deeper and more colorful than anything you know. You want Soobin’s eyes to melt you each time you look into them, each time you think of them. Your heart has grown tired of just being a beating thing; it needs to be lit aflame, to burn for someone, to love so hard it doesn’t fear ruin.

Do you need Beomgyu’s permission for that? Is it as if he’s some guard to your heart? No, but the threat of conflict from his disapproval unnerves you. You try thinking of the best way to break the news to him.

Some long-winded explanation where you pour out your heart would probably irritate him most. You’ll have to keep yourself from going off on tangents—the more you say, the more ammunition he has against you. It’s not like you have to defend your decision to him.

If you’re too broad or dismissive about it, he’ll assume you don’t care or you’re hiding something. His accusations peeve you like nothing else, so the more you can avoid that, the better.

Realistically, his reaction doesn’t depend on your wording, for the most part. It depends on how mature he is about you getting a boyfriend. If he can’t handle the idea, then it won’t matter how you break the news, he’ll freak out no matter what. If he can accept that you can have other men in your life, then he won’t give you a hard time about this.

All you can do is hope for the better outcome. You pray that Beomgyu has learned his lesson in maturity by now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you hear Beomgyu open the door, you rush down the hall to him. You’ve spent all day considering how to have the conversation about Soobin, and you’re excited to just get it over with now. The sooner this weight falls off your shoulders, the better.

“Hiii,” you greet as you watch him take off his coat and shoes.

“Hi. You hungry?” he asks. You shake your head.

“I had lunch an hour ago.” You notice he ordered food somewhere, which he just stuffs in the fridge.

“Do you wanna hang out with me and Yeonjun tomorrow night?” he asks. “We’re gonna watch some band perform at the common.”

“Depends how I feel after work.”

“Alright. You should definitely come though.” You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just don’t. You’ve got a different conversation on your mind anyway.

After a few seconds, Beomgyu starts walking off, but you call his name to stop him before he gets too far. He looks at you expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

“I wanted to talk about something,” you say. He remains still for a second, then carefully takes a few steps closer to you.

“Bad thing or good thing?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second. “Good thing.” You’re feeling nervous again, even though you know you shouldn’t be. Beomgyu’s been fine. He’ll survive if you tell him this.

“You don’t look like it’s a good thing,” he says. He must have caught on to your anxiety. Your fidgeting hands probably gave it away. You hold them behind your back so you stop fiddling with them. You breathe in as deeply as you can without making it too obvious that you’re calming your nerves.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to ask Soobin to be my boyfriend.”

You wait for a reaction. He blinks. Is that a good sign? He’s still breathing, too. Okay, so the news didn’t kill him at least.

“You’re asking him to be your boyfriend?” he repeats, as if he didn’t hear you right the first time.

Fuck, why is your heart pounding so hard? “Yes.”

He sighs and averts his gaze, looking around for a few awkward seconds. You tighten your lips, not really knowing what to do now.

“Your boyfriend?” he asks again.

You give him a curt nod. “Yep.”

You see it flash in his eyes then, something that brings you back to all those times he made your life so difficult. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to start feeling disappointed, that expression was more than enough.

“I tried backing off, but I just can’t do it anymore. You can’t do this,” he insists. Your head is going to explode. Not this again. Things were going so well.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it,” you say, but you know he won’t listen.

“I can’t stand it. I hate thinking about how much you like him, how you kiss him, how he’s doing everything I could be doing,” he rambles.

“I’m not hearing this,” you dismiss as you start walking down the hall to your room. You feel Beomgyu’s presence loom behind you. He sure is determined. “Knock it off, Gyu.”

He pushes the door open when you try to close it, stepping in and facing your hard stare. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t back off. You feel inclined to be stubborn and stand your ground too.

“No, I like you the way you are,” you answer.

“No you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t need Soobin.” He sounds angry, you must have really bothered him this time. That’s okay. You’ll take this over his pity parties. It’s easier to fight fire with fire.

“I don’t need Soobin, I just like him,” you say.

“Then what’s wrong with me?” he counters. He’s really worked up this time, frustration radiating off of him.

“Nothing! You need to stop with this!” you exclaim. You’ve never had an argument like this with him, fueled by rage and nothing else. There’s no undertones of sadness or attempts to remain calm this time.

“Just tell me you hate me,” he says, stepping closer to you, invading your space. You meet his gaze, unwavering, even if you have to tilt your head up to challenge his stare.

“I don’t fucking hate you.” You cross your arms, not letting your guard down.

“Then prove it,” he says. You wonder if your eyes hold as much fire as his do right now. You refuse to back down. You refuse to lose this. He wants you to prove you don’t hate him? Fine.

You don’t let yourself think about it as you crash your lips onto his. You hold his head still, but it’s not like he was going to run away. He meets your lips with equal amounts passion and frustration. The kiss is nothing friendly or nice—it’s not soft and slow, not sweet, not the dreamlike kiss you’ve been waiting to have with Soobin. This feels less like a kiss and more like war.

You don’t hold yourself back, sucking and biting at his lips carelessly. Your fingers are pulling so hard at his hair that you know it has to hurt, but you don’t care. You hope it does. His hand is on your jaw, keeping you in place so he can lick into your mouth as he pleases.

You hope he tastes your anger on your lips. You hope your tongue feels bitter in his mouth, that it leaves burns in its wake. You hope this kiss will haunt him at night, that he’ll feel you lingering hours later, that he sees your face on his ceiling when he’s trying to fall asleep.

He can never settle for friendship. The simple life could have been so good if he accepted it. You were stupid to think he’d let things go back to normal and stay that way. You hate feeling so dumb. You hate being so easy.

“Is that what you fucking wanted?” you ask as you pull away from the kiss. You wipe your mouth to clear the saliva that collected there. He doesn’t answer, only pulling you in for another kiss, unforgiving and angry. Your teeth clash and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He tangles his hands into your hair, pushing you deeper into the kiss.

You’ve never felt so angry at him in your life. You try to channel it all into the kiss, using more force than necessary. He should pay for doing this, for getting under your skin yet again.

He growls into your mouth—you guess he’s still angry too. Why should he be? You’re making out with him and no one else. If he wants to complain about that, then he must really be losing his mind.

You walk him backwards until he sits back on your bed, disconnecting your mouths so you can look down at him. His lips are swollen and coated with saliva. He’s hungry—starving—and can’t stand not touching you for even a second, so he grabs your hips and pulls you onto the bed with him.

There goes those walls you built up. There goes those weeks of putting in effort towards you and Soobin. You lose, again. Is this how it will always be with him? Was he playing the long game all along?

He knows you better than anyone. If anyone could figure out a way to set your life off course, it would be Beomgyu.

You have to get even with him. You have to stop taking everything lying down. You stare at him, who looks up at you like he’s waiting for your next move. Fucking prick. You’ll show him.

You shove his pants past his hips and pull his cock out to find him already fully hard. You’re not surprised. Precum oozes from his slit, leaking out on his tip. When you look up to see his face, he’s biting his lip in anticipation.

“Always need to have your fucking way, huh,” you say, squeezing the base of his cock. He throws his head back and moans, thrusting up into your fist. You let go of his dick to push his hips down with angry force. “Don’t you dare move.”

You spit into your hand and jerk his cock quickly, with little care as to how rough you are with him. You squeeze his length like you’re milking him, like you’re trying to get him to burst. If you can embarrass him and have him spilling all over himself in such a short amount of time, you’d feel on top of the world.

He’s thick and hot in your hand, but you don’t let it cloud your mind. You need to put him in his place. He doesn’t deserve a spot in the lustful crevices of your mind right now. This is about balancing the scale.

You keep your stare hard even as he cries and whimpers. You don’t let him see any reaction out of you, because the last thing you want is for him to take control of the situation again. At least like this, you feel like you’re not totally weak for him.

His hips jolt up and he gasps at your ministrations. He grabs onto your wrist, trying to pry you off.

“Behave,” your order, no room for compromise in your voice.

“Baby! Baby, stop, I’m gonna”—his sentence is cut off by a drawn-out moan. It’s like his body can’t decide whether to run away from your hand or rut into it.

“Fucking do it then,” you say through gritted teeth, fucking your fist over him faster. You spit onto his cock to lubricate it even more.

“No, not yet,” he pleads, breathing heavily. It’s cute watching him try to escape the feeling, but you won’t let him. You use your other hand to fondle his balls, and once you do that, he’s a goner. He’s spilling his seed onto your hand with his head thrown back and a loud cry. His hips stutter up into your fist, and his cock twitches in your hand. You feel a bit of a power high from that.

You slow down for only a few seconds before you’re pumping him wildly again. He looks at you with wide, helpless eyes. His body’s jolting with the shocks of overstimulation, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at that.

Beomgyu whimpers your name pathetically. His arms are shaking as they cling onto yours. You don’t relent, merciless as you try to coax another orgasm from him.

“It’s too much!” he cries, and you can even hear the shake in his voice.

“Take what I give you or I’ll leave,” you spit. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I can take it.” He pries his arms off you and keeps them at his sides, deciding he wants to be good and listen all of a sudden.

“That’s what I thought.” You twist your hand as it goes down on his length, squeezing harder. Your thumb swipes over his slit when it reaches the head of his cock. “Cum for me, dirty little puppy. Show me how filthy you are.”

As you command it, his orgasm crashes over him immediately. You watch in awe. It’s like he’s trained to follow your words. His hot cum lands on your hand yet again, and you continue jerking him until his high is over. You have to stop yourself from making him cum a third time, too addicted to his little sounds of pleasure.

“Thank you,” Beomgyu says breathlessly. You run your fingers through his hair with your clean hand.

“Looks like the dirty pup is good for something,” you coo condescendingly.

“I am good, let me show you. Sit on my face.” Before you can even respond, he’s already lying down and sticking his tongue out. You furrow your brows at his eagerness and decide to put his mouth to use a different way. Your cum-coated hand meets his tongue, and you let him lave at his mess all over you.

“Hm, guess your tongue is pretty good,” you say mindlessly as you watch him lick all his cum off you. When he finishes cleaning your hand, he sucks two of your fingers past his lips. You smirk and slowly fuck them in and out of his desperate mouth. He swirls his tongue around your digits, then licks up between them. He circles the tip of his tongue on the skin between your two fingers as if it was your clit. You wish it didn’t make your pussy throb.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth and spread them apart, admiring the strand of saliva that forms. You take off your bottoms and panties, and Beomgyu damn near starts panting in excitement.

“Yes, come sit on my face, let me taste your cunt,” he babbles, stars in his eyes. His excitement dies when your saliva-slickened fingers meet your core instead. You make sure he has a great view as you play with your pussy.

“You got me so nice and wet, thank you puppy.” Your voice is sweet, even if your motive is to torture him. You exaggerate your reactions to your touch, moaning extra loud when you circle your clit. Your other hand disappears under your shirt to play with your nipples. You bite your lip as you push your hips up into your hand.

Beomgyu sits up and watches you with a slackened jaw. He starts leaning in between your legs, and you push him away with a foot to his chest.

“Uh-uh, you can’t touch,” you tell him.

“But look! My fingers are longer and thicker than yours,” he says, holding out his hand. You roll your hips up into your hand, remembering the way his fingers felt inside you. You slip two fingers into your cunt to make up for the sudden emptiness you feel.

You fuck yourself with vigor, pistoning your fingers into you, putting on a good show for your best friend. You want him to think you’re not some weak girl who folds for his touch every time. Even though your body yearns for Beomgyu to take care of you, you have to make a point to him.

You get so lost in the feeling of your own fingers that you stop looking at Beomgyu, focusing entirely on the pleasure taking over. That was clearly a mistake, because suddenly you feel two of his fingers entering your pussy alongside your own. You cry out at the sensation, body shaking at the stretch.

It’s hard to move your hand now, but Beomgyu seems to find a way perfectly fine. “B-bad boy,” you scold, but your voice is so shaky that it holds no real bite. When he aims his fingers up, it forces your own to sit snug against your g-spot, resting there as Beomgyu jackhammers into you.

“See? Feels good,” he says. With his other hand, he rubs at your clit viciously, needing to please you more than you can please yourself. “This is so much better, right?”

Your body is buzzing, and you can’t even respond to him. Your mouth hangs open stupidly as he pulls moan after moan from you. A foreign pressure starts building inside of you, more intense than anything you’ve felt before. Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hips away, but Beomgyu’s determined.

“P-puppy, it feels different,” you manage to stutter out. His breath hitches and he connects his mouth to your inner thigh to kiss it. He doesn’t stop his ministrations—if anything, your words encourage him to go even harder.

“You’re gonna squirt for me?” he says with astonishment, and you feel his grin growing against your thigh. It’s blinding, the way the pleasure is consuming you. His hands are wild, working at you without mercy to bring you over the edge. It’s like he needs this more than you.

“I’m—nngh, oh god,” you stammer, body twitching away, but Beomgyu’s so desperate to see you fall apart that he doesn’t let you stray from the feeling for even a second. The pressure snaps and you cry out, legs kicking out as you release all over him. You feel your juices squirting out of you, and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve been embarrassed at how much seems to leak out.

Beomgyu loves it, lapping up what spills onto his wrist and your thighs. You’re shaking uncontrollably, immediately pulling your hand from your center once Beomgyu draws back. You focus more on gathering your breath after that orgasm than on Beomgyu’s tongue licking every inch of your thighs.

You flinch when his tongue finds your pussy, too sensitive to take anymore. You push his head away and sit up, snapping your legs shut. He pouts, but sits up as well.

“Was that good?” he asks, biting down a smile. He leans in like he really wants to know your answer.

You press your palms into your eyes like you’re relieving a headache. Rationality comes back to you, but there’s no point in yelling at him now. You’re the one who shoved your hand down his pants.

“You really don’t want me dating Soobin, huh?” You feel more exhausted than angry now.

“I’ll do so much worse if you make him your boyfriend,” he says.

You blink at him. Is that some kind of threat? “What do you mean?”

“Just don’t be with him and you won’t have to find out.” You don’t have it in you to fight him. If it was this easy for you to fall back on your word and get intimate with Beomgyu again, you might as well hold off on the boyfriend label anyway. Maybe you weren’t as ready as you thought you were.

“You can leave my room now,” you say, leaning your head against your pillow. You’ll probably spend the next hour contemplating everything you’ve been through in the past month. He doesn’t need to be there for that.

“Nah.” He lays down beside you. You inhale slowly, gathering the control to not push him off the mattress.

“Whatever.” You’ll just have your mini crisis with him next to you. It doesn’t even matter.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

To your surprise, you don’t feel completely miserable the next day. Of course, you go throughout the day feeling awful about ruining your chance to be with Soobin any time soon and angry at yourself for touching Beomgyu again, but besides that you’re feeling normal.

You wish your work day would have lasted a little longer—something you never thought you’d hope for—because when you get home and see Beomgyu on the couch, you’re already feeling annoyed. You were doing so good before yesterday. Seeing him is just a reminder of how much you screwed up.

He seems as giddy as he could ever be when you approach him on the couch. You grab a blanket and curl yourself into his side wordlessly, just wanting his warmth. He accepts it gratefully, throwing an arm over you and getting you comfortable.

You can’t even really feel upset. You’re familiar with this cycle already: Beomgyu will bitch about Soobin to you, you’ll get each other off, you’ll argue some more, then you’ll hang out like nothing happened. You put yourself back in this situation, so you spare yourself the pity.

“I’m so glad we’re back to this. It was killing me to not hold you all those days,” Beomgyu says before pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I don’t want you to be upset anymore.”

“I’m not upset,” you say flatly.

“I want you to be happy. I’m really happy now.” You only hum in acknowledgement. You don’t really have anything to say to that.

Some time passes in which you and Beomgyu watch television, except you’re mostly going on your phone and Beomgyu’s halfway to falling asleep. You get a notification from Soobin, making you freeze for a moment.

[Soobin] We should meet up tonight if you’re available :)

Beomgyu reads the text over your shoulder. “You better not say yes.” You flinch and back away from him, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Cause you said you’d go with me and Yeonjun to the concert!” he whines.

“I didn’t say I was gonna go with you and Yeonjun,” you counter. The entitlement is crazy.

“I asked you first though. If you feel fine enough to hang out with Soobin, why can’t you hang out with me?” he asks.

“What have we been doing for the past hour?”

“That doesn’t count! We live with each other, we have to hang out at home.”

“Wow, ungrateful. You should thank the universe for each second you get to spend with me, home or not.”

“I do. I can show you how grateful I am too, if you want.” You roll your eyes at his suggestion.

“I think I’m okay,” you say. When you lift your phone back up, Beomgyu takes it from your hand and tosses it gently onto the floor. You watch it land a few feet away from you. You don’t feel like getting up to grab it, so you let the device stay where it is. You settle with insulting him instead, “You suck.”

“I don’t want you to hang out with him tonight,” he complains with a pout. “I want my best friend.”

“Gyu, you’ll live.” What a flair for the dramatics he has.

“Just this once, please,” he begs. “You know you’re going to feel guilty and awkward hanging out with Soobin after what we did yesterday anyway.”

Shit. You hate it when he’s right.

You sigh, “Fine.” You’re enveloped in his embrace immediately, face smushed into his chest as he cheers in victory. “This better be the best band I see perform in my life.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The concert is pretty mediocre. The band consists of some grungy college-aged boys who sing about being depressed and cheating on girls. Not quite your music of choice, but you enjoy your time as much as you can nonetheless.

Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped over your shoulders pretty much the entire time. For warmth reasons, you don’t complain, but it is pretty embarrassing to see Yeonjun looking at the two of you weirdly from time to time. He must be able to sense that something’s off between you.

Beomgyu splits off at some point to buy a water bottle somewhere, and you’re left alone to talk to Yeonjun. He doesn’t even spare you a glance at first, which makes you think he might be having a bad day.

“You like this band?” you ask him, breaking the silence. You’re confused why he glares at you when he finally turns his head your way.

“You like Beomgyu?” he retorts, voice filled with some weird scorn.

“Woah, what?”

“Aren’t you dating Soobin? Why are you letting Beomgyu touch you?”

You have no clue where this is coming from. Beomgyu must have been talking to Yeonjun about the things you two did together. “Did Beomgyu say something to you?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says. “He’s been telling me all about how you’re sleeping with him while seeing Soobin.”

That motherfucker. He’s bragging about banging you to other guys? You’re nearly seeing red, but you keep your composure so you don’t look crazy in front of Yeonjun. “Soobin and I aren’t exclusive,” you defend.

Yeonjun gives you a humorless laugh. “Would you be happy if Soobin was fucking other girls right now?”

The thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I”—

“Don’t lie. You’d cry your heart out.” Yeonjun levels you with a knowing stare. You meet it, unwavering, but you know he’s right.

“You don’t know the whole story. I tried putting a stop to it,” you say.

“And what? You relapsed like he’s some drug? You need to get real.”

You want to be mad, but what’s the point? You’re getting reality checked, and it burns, but maybe Yeonjun’s right.

“Beomgyu puts up a fight every time I talk about Soobin. He won’t let me be.” You feel defensive, like you have to prove you’re not totally at fault.

“So you let him down easy with some pussy?” he asks with sizable disappointment in his voice. God, this is embarrassing.

“You don’t get it.” It’s not like you didn’t say no to him before. You tried removing yourself from the room, you tried telling him this can’t happen, you tried everything except leaving him. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t have to get it. You should do better.” The conversation ends at that, his words left to linger in your mind.

You stand silently beside Yeonjun and stare blankly at the band on the stage. Time has got to move a little faster. You pray Beomgyu doesn’t take much longer getting back.

When he does come back, you don’t let him cling to you like a magnet. He looks at you a little weird for rejecting his arm around you, but he doesn’t say anything until you get in his car.

“Are you okay? You seem kinda pissed.” His question only serves to irritate you further.

“You told Yeonjun that we sleep with each other?” You don’t hide the anger from your voice. He looks at you with wide eyes. Clearly he knows he fucked up. “I never once let you put your dick in me.”

Beomgyu breathes out slowly, then pouts his lips and taps awkwardly on the steering wheel. You allow him his minute of shameful silence before starting up again, “Do you just not respect me? I doubt you told him what exactly led to this.”

He still doesn’t look at you. He can try all the cute, pitiful tactics he wants, you’re not falling for it this time.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, head down like he’s hating his life right now. Good, you hope he is.

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll stop doing anything more than platonic with me.” He looks at you with upturned brows and scared eyes. It’s as if you spoke his worst fear into reality.

“No, I’ll tell Yeonjun I lied, I promise,” he pleads.

“Why? You didn’t lie. I’m just some whore you get to brag about, right?”

“No! I lied, I was wrong, I should have never opened my mouth to Yeonjun. I’m stupid.” Ugh, you can’t take his self-pity.

“We’re never crossing that line again. I was stupid. I’m actually glad Yeonjun gave me that reality check.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to stop, I’ll just shut my mouth about it now,” he says.

“I don’t want to risk ruining everything anymore.” He has nothing to say to that. It’s eerily quiet for a moment. “Can you bring us home now?”

He puts the car in drive. The ride is silent the whole way home.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The longest week of your life passes by, in which you barely hang out with Beomgyu, barely see Soobin, and barely talk to anyone. You consider it to be a reset week for you, trying to detach yourself from everyone else to focus on finding out what you want. With so many complicated relationships in your life, you need plenty of time to think this through.

You spend a lot of nights considering what exactly you want from Beomgyu and Soobin. You weigh all your thoughts out and philosophize them, waiting for something to click and show you all the answers. What you learn instead is that no amount of contemplation is going to clear things up for you completely.

When looking at it honestly, your life has been a mess of ups and downs since meeting Soobin. It’s not his fault at all—actually, when you try to pin the blame on someone, the dart lands like a bullseye on your own face. And it’s not that Soobin is a bad influence on your life, making you do all these stupid things; instead, it’s that you have no willpower when it comes to Beomgyu.

So, do you end things with Soobin? You rack your brain for a smart answer, but it’s hard to even think anything after forming that sentence. A pit of emptiness forms in your chest instead, and avoiding that uncomfortable feeling is within your own self-interest.

You itch to call Chaewon more times than you can count, but you don’t let yourself give in. You want this to be something you tackle without the influence of anyone else. You already know how Chaewon would tell you to solve this, anyway.

A couple nights throughout the week, Beomgyu has knocked on your door, and neither time did you let him in. Out of everyone you know, he has the biggest influence on you. Your rational mind is thrown out the window when it comes to him. You don’t think that’s something you can stop or control.

He texts you and makes sure you’re okay, which you’re grateful for. You still eat dinner with him, and you even let yourself indulge in one movie night, but you’re trying to keep your distance so you can keep your head clear.

You’re at a mental standstill, looking down a multitude of paths that have no clear end. You could move in with Chaewon and make Soobin your boyfriend. You could end things with Soobin and see if you can go back to normal with Beomgyu. You could do nothing and give up your hand in this game.

You feel like you’re finding a new law of arithmetic trying to decide what to do next. You’re not the thinking type—clearly, as if the past couple months haven’t been proof enough—so you earn no insight and all headache from this.

Go you, trying to be independent and figure out your life on your own. Look where that got you, huddled up in your bedroom and even more depressed than before. You need a drink.

Matter of fact—

Wanna go to a bar?

You don’t even have to wait a minute for Chaewon’s response. ‘Bar’ to her is exactly what ‘squirrel’ is to dogs.

[Chaewon] You already know my answer. I’m getting ready right nowwww

No boy talk or I’m ending my shit in front of you

You need one night to just let loose and stop thinking. You’ve had enough of deliberating upon the men in your life this week.

[Chaewon] Oh you need those drinks bad

[Chaewon] Okay noted

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t expect to be interrogated as soon as you open the door to your apartment the next morning, but Beomgyu’s insistent prying serves as a lovely pairing with your massive hangover.

“Where were you last night?” he asks before you can even open the door all the way. You’re too busy adjusting to how bright the room is to process his question at first. You squint to save your eyeballs as much as you can. You walk right into Beomgyu when you try to properly enter the room. He holds your waist to steady your balance. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

You shake your head and instantly regret it, since it makes it feel like your brain is sloshing around inside your skull. “Hungover.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going out,” he says. He doesn’t sound mad or accusatory, but it still irritates you because you don’t want to deal with this right now.

“Didn’t realize I had to.”

“You always do when you go out drinking,” he reasons.

You sigh, “Yeah, well, I didn’t this time.”

He scrunches your brows as he takes in your tone. “Are you mad at me or something?”

You rub your eyes. You need to bury your head under your pillow, this light is killing you, and this conversation needs to be over with. “I’m not mad at you.”

He’s quiet for a second. “I feel like you are.”

“Okay. Have fun feeling like that.” You open one of the cabinets to look for some medicine.

“See? You’re talking to me like you’re mad at me. What did I do?” All your patience leaves you at that. You don’t want to be doing this right now.

You place the pill bottle onto the counter with more force than necessary and turn around abruptly to face Beomgyu. “I’m hungover. I don’t want to talk. Take a hint.”

He blinks at you stupidly, and it just annoys you more. You scoff and turn your attention back to the medicine.

“Were you with Soobin?” he asks, breaking the ten seconds of peace and quiet he allowed you.

You groan. “Does it matter? I could have fucked Soobin last night and it still wouldn’t be any of your concern.”

“Did you fuck Soobin last night?” he asks urgently now that you planted the thought in his head. You swallow your pills in place of answering him. He holds onto your arm to stop you from leaving when you try to walk past him. “Did you??”

“What if I did? Do you think you have any right to tell me anything about it?” You didn’t, obviously, but at this point you’ll say anything to get him to stop talking.

His jaw clenches and he tightens his lips, but you don’t give a damn what displays of anger he gives you. He could pull his arm back and get ready to punch you and you still wouldn’t waver. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

“I just—I don’t get—You’re not even…” He sure is having trouble finding his words. Some defense he’s got built up.

“Interesting.” You turn, ready to storm off to your room, but he stops you once again.

His hands stay clung to your shoulders, not even blinking as he turns you back toward him. “Please just tell me who you went out with.” He almost reeks of desperation.

You’re annoyed and you don’t owe him shit, so you don’t open your mouth to give him a response. You shrug with a straight face.

He whines and leans his head down onto your shoulder like you’ve just stabbed him in the gut. You roll your eyes. He always has to be the victim. You might just trudge to your room with him clinging onto you if he doesn’t give this up. You’ll get to your bed one way or another.

“What did I do? I’m so sorry. Why are you so mad at me?” he says, voice breaking like he’s holding back tears. He nuzzles further into your shoulder.

“Gyu, I swear, I’m just tired and my head hurts. You had nothing to do with this until five minutes ago. So please get off of me.” You push against him to try to pry him away, but he locks his arms around you. You sigh deeply, accepting his embrace because it’s not like you can run from it. You wait until enough time has passed where it’s safe for you to pull away without him freaking out.

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asks, giving you those sweet puppy eyes that you’d melt over any other time. Unfortunately, you’re still pissy and in need of rest, so you don’t coddle Beomgyu like you know he wants you to.

“No.” His lips tilt up just slightly at that. He wipes his eyes dramatically.

“Can I lay down with you then?” he asks, eyes carrying all his hope.

You shouldn’t, but you don’t want to deal with his moping if you don’t let him. “If you stay quiet and keep your distance.”

You’re already walking to your room when you hear him start complaining, “Keep my distance!?” You don’t stop to respond. Now that you have your sight on your bed, nothing could stop you from getting wrapped up in your blankets.

You fall against the mattress with a groan, smushing your head into your pillow. You register the bed dip next to you with Beomgyu’s weight, and you’re half-surprised that he allows you a respectable amount of space. A good five minutes pass in which you nearly fall asleep just listening to yours and Beomgyu’s breathing. Silence is always fleeting with Beomgyu, though, and it’s not long until he has to break it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about this. Did you seriously… sleep with Soobin?” Beomgyu asks in a quiet voice, words coming out hesitantly like he’s almost scared to ask.

You sigh, turning your head so you’re facing him instead of being buried in a pillow. You blink slowly, still wanting to fall asleep. He’s pouting and looks like he feels bad for even asking. Luckily for him, most of your annoyance evaporated from you the moment you laid down.

“No, I didn’t. It was just me and Chaewon,” you answer. You let your eyes flutter shut again, assuming the conversation would be over now.

Nope. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier then?” You contemplate pretending to be asleep so that you don’t have to respond anymore, but you feel his arm wrap around your waist and you have to shove it off. There goes that idea. “And why can’t I hold you anymore?” he asks.

“Because of what we talked about after the concert.” Your eyes are still closed, but you bet he does something sassy in response like roll his eyes or curl his lips down.

“Well I think that’s stupid,” he says. You open your eyes to make sure he sees it when you scowl at him.

“You’re free to leave my room if you don’t want to respect my rules.”

“Putting rules on our friendship is so ridiculous,” he argues. “We have literally always been touchy with each other. Soobin can go cry about it if he thinks there’s a problem with that. Why should we change for him?”

“It’s me who’s putting these rules down, he never told me to do anything. It’s not just because of him, either.” Your head threatens to start pounding again.

“What else would it be for?”

“Us? Do you not worry that we’ll go too far and never be able to go back?” you ask incredulously, like the reasoning should be obvious. He must not fear losing this friendship the way you do.

“No, because I know nothing could break the bond between us.”

“Hooking up does. Don’t you see how much we’ve changed already? For the worse?” He’d be blind to deny that much.

“Hooking up didn’t change us, Soobin did,” he counters. He’s not holding anything back, overflowing with audacity today.

“I would have told you to stop with or without Soobin in my life.” Because you actually care about preserving your friendship. You know that a lifetime of shared memories is better than twenty minutes of sexual gratification.

“And you think this time will be any different from the last hundred times? You keep saying this is going to end, and then it doesn’t.”

“But I mean it this time,” you say with full confidence.

“You say that every time.”

“Then how about you make it easier for me and stop trying to get with me? It might make things easier if you actually fucking respected it when I try to lay down boundaries.”

“Or you can just say no to me, unless I’m that irresistible,” he snides. Is he serious? Does he think you’ve never tried to say no?

“Fuck you.” You turn away from him, done with this conversation. He doesn’t leave your bed, but he does keep his distance. Either he’s pissed off now too, or you’ve finally convinced him to respect you. Your bet’s on the former.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You’re getting ready to go out, wanting to spend your Sunday with Soobin. You haven’t seen him in a while, and you feel like you need this to clarify things for yourself. You aren’t supposed to meet him until later today, but you’re planning on running some errands first, and you might as well get ready now so you don’t have to rush to do it later.

The sounds of you roaming around your room seem to beckon Beomgyu over. He walks up to you with a soft smile on his face. “Heading out?” he asks.

“I am,” you confirm. You stop struggling with the necklace you were trying to put on and hand it to Beomgyu instead. You might as well make use of his presence. “Can you put this on for me?” You pull your hair off your neck to make it easier for him.

He’s able to secure the clasp much faster than you. He pats your shoulder when you’re all set, and you put your hair back down.

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he speaks up again, “I’m sorry for arguing with you yesterday.” He looks bashful as the apology rolls off his tongue.

You weren’t expecting that. You guys don’t really apologize to each other over small arguments, you just move on. You turn to face him so he can see your honesty. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He laughs. “I deserved it.”

You shake your head. “No you didn’t.”

You two smile at each other, and it’s times like this where life feels a little simpler. It’s surreal that you share your own little section of the world together, and that you still get to have these bonding moments years after meeting.

“I’m glad that I have you in my life,” you say. “Even when I’m hungover and annoyed at you.”

His response comes in the form of a giggle and a squeeze of your hand. You allow it, letting him be sentimental.

“Okay, I need to continue with my makeup now,” you say, pulling away to rummage through your products and find your eyelash curler. Beomgyu lingers behind you, just watching.

“This skirt is really cute,” Beomgyu says, pinching the fabric of it.

“Thanks, I thrifted it.” He hums and nods in response. A minute passes in which he silently observes you.

“You doll yourself up a lot when you go out with Soobin.” You slowly turn to face him, not understanding the point of his statement.

“Is that a problem?” you ask. You didn’t even tell him you were going out with Soobin.

“No. You look good.” You hum and pull out mascara from your vanity’s drawer. You lean forward as you apply it to your lashes, trying your best to ignore Beomgyu’s stare.

A part of you is admittedly confused that Beomgyu isn’t trying to stop you from leaving or fighting with you about seeing Soobin. Just now, he was actually the most collected you’ve ever seen him be when it comes to Soobin. You don’t want to jinx it, so you try to shift your thoughts somewhere else.

You and Soobin are going to the vintage market later, since you found out that you both share a love for vintage things. (For him, it’s old gaming systems and figurines, and for you, it’s clothes and home decor.) You’re thinking about trying to convince him to get dinner with you too, but that might be pushing your luck. You know he had some errands to run today too.

“Those are nice,” Beomgyu says. You don’t know what he means until you see in the mirror where he’s looking. You widen your eyes and straighten your posture immediately. Bent over the vanity like that, your panties were on full display under your skirt. And to think you were sharing a sentimental moment just a few minutes ago!

You scowl at him. “Thanks for staring, creep.” You shove your mascara back in the drawer.

“I’m sure Soobin would love them,” he says. You pause as you register his words. You’re not sure what his goal is, or why he suddenly switched up so much. You decide it’s best to not add fuel to the fire and just keep your mouth closed.

Beomgyu’s all fire though, and needs no fuel to keep going. “Your makeup’s really pretty too. You look like an angel.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask, voice full of suspicion. Even in his tone, you can hear his ulterior motives.

He comes closer to you with a grin, leaning his head on your shoulder and locking eyes with you in the mirror. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you feel a bit overwhelmed by his presence.

“I know you worked so hard getting pretty, but I don’t really think you should go out today… It’s windy, and you’ll be so, so cold in this…” He slowly pulls the thin strap of your top off your shoulder until it falls limp around your arm. His finger lightly traces the skin he revealed.

You’re not so curious what Beomgyu’s intentions are anymore. They’re pretty easy to guess now. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

He pouts, continuing to trace little swirls onto your skin. “You’ll get sick,” he adds.

“That’s not what you actually care about,” you say.

“I do though.” He places a kiss on your neck as if to show his earnestness.

“Beomgyu—no, this is too much.” You try pushing him off, but it’s as if he doesn’t feel your efforts at all. You give up after the second attempt.

“You should stay home with me so I don’t have to worry about you all day.” He stares at your side profile and brushes your hair back. He places another tender kiss on your neck, higher up this time. You try to fight any heat rising in your body from the action.

“Stop this,” you say, but it doesn’t sound so confident with how your voice shakes. You turn your head to look him in the eye. He just smiles up at you from where his head still leans on your shoulder. You hold back a gasp when his finger stops tracing lines on your skin and hooks under your bra strap instead, just barely starting to pull that aside too.

You’re so flustered by his finger slowly inching your bra strap down that you barely notice when his lips are back on your neck, attached to your pulse point like your heartbeat was calling for him.

“Y-you told me I could say no to you,” you remind him as his lips continue their slow descent down your neck.

“Yeah, if you actually meant it.” He places one last kiss to your skin, then props his head back on your shoulder to look into your eyes through the mirror. He smiles as if he likes what he finds; you must look as confused and malleable as you feel.

“You lied,” you say quietly, as if it’s a revelation to yourself and not a response to him.

“I didn’t. I’m just obsessed with pleasing you.” He runs his hands down your sides soothingly, then prompts you to bend with a gentle hand on your back.

“Beomgyu!” you squeak, fighting against the hand that beckons you down. You hold on tight to the edge of the vanity to keep your body up.

“Stop thinking. Let me take care of you.” His voice is so soft and coaxing, and you feel a sizable sense of shame hit you when arousal oozes from your cunt. An even greater amount of shame finds you when your arms shake and eventually give, letting Beomgyu ease you down until you’re bent over the vanity.

“We really can’t do this.” It might be too late to keep fighting, but you don’t want to suffer the consequences of this all over again.

“Shhh, baby,” he whispers as his hand travels down your back and settles on your hip, massaging the area.

Oh god. This is so bad. You’re supposed to be hanging out with Soobin in a few hours. You can’t do this right now.

“Gyu”—

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “Stop shaking, why are you so nervous?”

“I’m supposed to see Soobin today!” you squeak. He tsks.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop thinking?” A warm hand trails up your thigh. He doesn’t go under your skirt, he stays well enough away from your center, but something about his touch is still making your head spin. No one can make you lose reasonability like Beomgyu can.

You whine, and you don’t know if it’s out of defeat or out of need. You blink a tear from your eyes and follow Beomgyu’s advice: you stop thinking.

“Gyu…” You don’t even know what you’re calling him for. You hide your face in your arms so you don’t have to watch your reflection give up her fight.

“Yes, baby?” Your hips push out in search for his touch before you can stop yourself. Tears of shame pool in your eyes, and you're glad Beomgyu can’t see your face to coddle you for that. “You need something?”

You don’t respond. It’s embarrassing how bad you need his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. A part of you wishes he’d leave you here like this so you could take care of your needs yourself.

He flips your skirt up with a careful hand, and you keep as still as possible. You try not to even breathe too hard. “You’re wet,” he says. “Want me to help you?”

What’s the point of asking? He went this far already. “No,” you say, and half of the reason is just to test if he’ll do it anyway.

“But you need me,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face and turning your head to him with his fingers on your chin. He looks at you like you’re a deer caught in a bear trap, like he’s being merciful to offer his help. You feel powerless when he looks at you like that.

His pitiful stare just makes you blink more tears out of your eyes, and you’d hide your face if you could, but he insists on keeping your head tilted towards him. He coos when the wet trails reach your cheeks, bringing a thumb up to wipe your tears.

“Do you wanna feel better?” he asks, continuing to spoil you with tender touches. He grabs your hand and lifts it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. You feel every bit the deer caught in the trap—Beomgyu’s got you in his claws now.

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting up at him.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you. Just tell me when to stop…” The light press of his fingertip against your clothed core makes you sigh, tension melting from your body. You close your eyes, shutting off your brain and relaxing into the feeling.

“That’s right, it feels so good, doesn’t it?” He circles your clit, keeping his touch feather-light. Even that much drives you crazy and makes your legs tremble. “Can I take these off?” His finger moves from your clit to hook beneath the hem of your panties.

“Please,” you say. He kisses your shoulder blade in appreciation.

“What nice manners.” Your panties are slowly peeled off of you until they hit the floor. The cold air hits your wet folds, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu utters as he stares at your pussy. He brings a hand down and starts rubbing your clit, leaving you a gasping and mewling mess already. “I missed this cunt. God, you haunted me. You tortured me.”

He attaches his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your shoulder. You cry out when his tongue meets your skin, licking and nipping at whatever skin he has access to. You clench around nothing, making more arousal drip out of you. Beomgyu coats his fingers in the slickness and continues drawing tight circles onto your clit.

“Beomgyu!” you yelp out when he speeds up. He places a parting peck onto your jaw before leaning away to look at your face. He smiles down at you.

“You need something inside that wet little cunt? Are you aching for my fingers?” His words make you feel lightheaded. You’re already having trouble thinking clearly, but now with that thought in your mind, you’re a goner.

“Yes, I need you!” He’s quick to give you what you want, sinking two fingers in with ease. You’re left crying and panting as he fucks his digits into you, filthy sounds filling the room.

“You’re so hot,” he praises, pulling your head up with his fist in your hair. You’re forced to stare at your own reflection, met with an image of you that looks so unfamiliar. Your mouth is hung open, spilling out moans and cries as Beomgyu’s fingers continue ramming into you. Your makeup is smudged and no longer suitable to go out in. The strap of your shirt and bra still hangs limp on your arm, and that side of your neck is coated in Beomgyu’s saliva.

“I look like a slut,” you say, pouting only for a second before your mouth is forced open again around a whine.

“You look beautiful.” His fingers curl into you, searching for the spot that will have your eyes rolling back. Your legs tremble when he finds it, and you have to rebalance yourself, clutching onto the vanity to keep yourself up.

“There! Oh, god, Gyu!” His mouth is back on your throat, hot and wet as he sucks and tastes and kisses. He nibbles on your jaw, then moves up to breathe into your ear.

“Let me fuck you, let me fill you up,” he whispers. You clench around his fingers at the thought. He stills inside you and you whine. “Baby.” He holds your face so you’ll look at him. He presses a quick kiss to your lips. You’re too far gone to complain. “You need more, right? You need my dick inside you?”

He curls his fingers inside you once more, and your back arches at the sensation. You try not to get too heady at the idea of him splitting you with his cock. That’s the one thing that absolutely cannot happen, so you can’t let yourself give in to that.

“Tell me, or else you won’t cum at all,” he says, rubbing his fingers inside you so perfectly it leaves your legs shaking.

“No, please!” you exclaim, panicked at the prospect of him leaving you on the edge. Your frantic hands are quick to play with your clit and squeeze your tits, trying to get yourself off while his fingers are still inside of you.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you today?” he asks, moving his fingers slower so you won’t cum. You pout and push your hips toward him, but a strong hand of his retaliates and keeps you still.

“We can’t,” you say. Immediately, he pulls his fingers out of you. He slaps your pussy, making you yelp and shut your legs. He pries them back open and slaps you again, harder this time. His fingers collect your wetness and tease your entrance, but never slip back inside.

“Did my slut already give it up to Soobin? Because that would really piss me off,” he says, staring meanly at you as he waits for your answer.

“No! We never did anything together,” you answer, the truth leaving you easily when you’re so desperate for his touch. He huffs out a laugh.

“That’s right. You know you’re mine.” He’s so pleased that he decides to relieve some of your need, rubbing your clit. “No one else would be able to touch you like me. Tell me how I ruined you for any other man,” he prompts.

He pulls his fingers off of you and pushes his pants down, whipping his dick out and stroking it as he looks down at you. He taps your clit with the head of his cock and bites back a grin when you mewl at the action. He thrusts against your pussy, letting his length slide between your folds.

You have to cling onto reality and keep yourself from slipping into a brainless haze. It’s hard to do when his cock feels so girthy and hot against you. He would stretch you so nicely. Your cunt oozes at the thought.

“Say it,” Beomgyu demands, grabbing your face again so you’ll make eye contact with him. He leans over your body to do so, and you feel completely surrounded by him. His stare is hard and demanding. Your eyes bug out when you feel him press his tip against your entrance, pushing with just the slightest bit of pressure, but not quite sliding in. “Say it or I’ll fuck the words out of you.”

That scares you into compliance. “You ruined me for anyone else! Only you can make me cum! I only want your cock!” you chant thoughtlessly.

He laughs and smooths his hands down your body, resting them on your waist. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” He’s so condescending, but it makes you drip like crazy. He goes back to thrusting against your pussy, making you sigh in relief.

Beomgyu runs a hand under your shirt, squeezing your tits. Your back arches when he twists and pulls at your nipples while continuing to slide his cock through your folds. He takes his dick and starts swiping his tip over your clit rapidly, watching you spasm at the sensation with a grin. Your hole continues to flutter, aching to be stuffed with his cock. Unfortunately, Beomgyu takes notice of that.

“You need that hole filled, baby? Need to be nice and stretched?” He brings his tip back to your entrance. He circles around it teasingly, making you whine. You can’t let him fuck you. You need to keep at least that much from him.

“Don’t,” you plead, getting more antsy the longer he stays at your entrance.

“Don’t?” he repeats, but doesn’t move away.

“Please don’t!” you cry, unwilling to let him go that far. He finally relents.

“Then you’ll cum like this,” he huffs and goes back to stimulating your clit with the head of his cock. You moan out, pushing your hips down to feel him pressed against you more. Your mouth is dropped open in pleasure, eyes shutting as you focus on the feeling. Your legs shake and try to close, but Beomgyu urges them back open with his hand on your thigh.

You can’t form any coherent sentences, stuttering out a garbled mess of words that tells Beomgyu you’re right there. “Let go, baby, be good and cum for me,” he says, and your body obeys. You spasm everywhere as your orgasm takes over, breathing out in sweet relief. He’s moaning behind you, movements getting shakier as his release finds him.

Beomgyu pulls away so his cum lands on your ass, but his fingers play with your pussy to help you come down. Your legs clamp shut when it gets too much, and he takes that as a sign to stop. The sound of you and Beomgyu panting fills the room as you recover from your highs.

“Fuck, I wish I could take a picture of this,” Beomgyu says, staring at your ass painted with his seed. You can’t even think of a smart reply to that, still trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Beomgyu takes off his shirt to wipe you down with it. You’re glad he still has the mind to take care of you. You cringe when you feel him try to put your soiled panties back onto you. “Stop, I’ll just get a new pair,” you say, kicking his hands away.

You stand up and stretch, trying to avoid looking at your reflection as much as possible. You grab your phone to check the time. What catches your sight instead is a text notification from Soobin, and suddenly you feel sick. Beomgyu smirks when his eyes land on your screen. “You still going out with him today?”

You almost feel like you could cry. Was this his plan all along? You put your phone back down, unable to stand the guilt.

He wins again. “No, I’m not.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Your life recently has just been a continuous cycle of proving that you can, indeed, stoop even lower. You’re so confused how you even got to this point. Your fairytale relationship was lined up for you, it was supposed to be easy to stop whatever you’re doing with Beomgyu and make Soobin your boyfriend.

Things are more complicated and confusing than ever, a precedent you continuously find yourself in. You can’t grow accustomed to this. You’ll go crazy before you ever figure out why Beomgyu won’t quit. What is the root of his insecurity? Why is he so threatened by the idea of you having a boyfriend? You’ve already told him you won’t leave him.

When you notice that Beomgyu’s not home when you get back from work, you decide to invite Chaewon over to keep you company. You don’t feel like being alone with your thoughts right now.

She’s there in a heartbeat, and the two of you are quick to settle on the couch and watch a bit of the show she’s currently binging. You’re only half an episode in when you stop paying attention and start talking to Chaewon about life instead. It doesn’t take long for Chaewon to land on the million dollar question.

“Alright, this has been killing me since we went to the bar. What happened with Soobin?” Chaewon asks.

You want to punch yourself. This is so embarrassing. “Well…”

“I swear, if you…” she starts, and you know what she’s thinking.

“I did.” You get a hard smack on the arm for that. You deserved it, honestly.

“You fucked Beomgyu?!”

“He didn’t stick it in, but we did basically everything else,” you admit.

“Why?” she asks. “Everything was going so well.”

“I don’t know. Because I’m stupid. I tried to say no, but you know him.”

She looks a little horrified to hear that. “What?”

You scramble to explain, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, “I mean, like, I gave in and let myself enjoy it because he wasn’t stopping anyway.”

“Do you even know how concerning that sounds?” Chaewon asks, looking genuinely worried for you. “Seriously, are you okay?” She runs a hand down your arm to comfort you.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” Her eyes have lost all their hardness and accusation, and she looks at you with only pity now.

“How’d this happen? Give me the timeline,” Chaewon says, and you sigh as you try to recollect the whole story.

“I actually initiated it the first time we hooked up again,” you explain with a sense of shame. “I was angry, and he kept insisting that I hate him, so I kissed him. Then it went further.”

“I hate him,” Chaewon says with a bitter laugh. You frown, so she continues, “I do. I can’t stand him anymore. He knew he was cornering you when he said that shit.”

“Well, it worked. It keeps working. I tried again to stop after that, which is when he told me I should just say no and”—

“What the hell?” Chaewon interrupts, appalled. “As if you haven’t been saying no in a million different ways!”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” You shake your head and shrug defeatedly. “So the next time he tries to initiate something, I say no, and he doesn’t listen because he said he could tell I didn’t mean it.”

Chaewon’s jaw is dropped open. It takes a few seconds for her to get a response out. “I really hate him. I’m fuming for you.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him to stop once he really started touching me. I don’t know why. He told me to tell him when to stop, and I just… didn’t.”

“He needs to get it together. You need to give him an ultimatum.” The drastic measures make your heart pound. Beomgyu would lose it.

“I can’t,” you say. “Even if I did, he’d find a way around it again.”

“Stop giving him so much power over you. You need to detox yourself clean of him.” She says that like he’s some bacteria you can just flush out. He’s more like a parasite taking control of your whole being.

“But I live with him,” you reason.

“Then stay at mine. As long as you’re here with him, he’s going to keep doing this. He’s been messing with your head and ruining your life on purpose. It’s such bullshit. He’ll never take no for an answer,” Chaewon spits.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” You snap your head over to where the voice came from. Fuck. Beomgyu came home.

Your heart stops. You hold your breath, staring at him with wide eyes. What do you say? There’s no excuse that could get you out of this situation.

Chaewon on the other hand doesn’t seem scared at all—she seems furious. “You,” she answers, unphased at his attempt to intimidate her.

She rises from the couch and approaches him with quick footsteps. You get scared for a second that she might hit him, so you follow her quickly. She stops in front of Beomgyu, and you stand back, observing the scene with your nerves on edge. Beomgyu doesn’t back down, staring daggers into her.

“Beomgyu, you are the most disgusting excuse for a friend in the world,” Chaewon snaps. She pokes a finger against his chest to make her point. “I can only pray that karma gets you one day and makes you see what a piece of shit you are.”

Beomgyu looks at you while pointing at Chaewon. “You’re just gonna let her talk to me like this? Did you even tell her the full story?”

You see red at his accusation. “I told her everything, matter of fact.”

“Yeah? Then she should know that you’re just as much to blame as I am,” he says, walking away from Chaewon and towards you. “I can’t believe you’ve been shit-talking me with your friends for things you chose to do with me.”

Chaewon chimes in, “How much of a choice does she have if you’re bugging her nonstop until she gives in? Crying, fighting, begging. If you were fucking normal she’d already be with Soobin by now.”

Beomgyu doesn’t turn to look at Chaewon as she speaks, so his face is still close to yours as he takes in her words. He doesn’t look remorseful at all. He just looks pissed.

“You can leave, Chaewon,” he says, voice dripping with venom. He looks you in the eye even as he says that. It sends a chill down your spine.

Chaewon grabs your wrist and pulls you a few steps away from Beomgyu. “Come sleep at mine tonight,” she urges you. “You don’t deserve to hear whatever shit he’s gonna put you through.”

“Fuck that,” Beomgyu says. “Get out of my house.” He points to the door. You’re shocked at the slight raise in his voice. He’s never done that before.

Chaewon looks at you, waiting for you to say something. You feel like the smallest person alive because you can’t bring yourself to accept her offer. It would only strain your relationship with Beomgyu more.

“Don’t be mad at me, Chaewon,” you plead, even though that’s probably too much to ask for. But she’s Chaewon, and she carries all the understanding she’s ever had, so she doesn’t get mad at all.

She squeezes your hand. “Be smart,” she says, then wraps her arms around you for a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything,” she whispers in your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in hers. She pulls away and pats your hair down, looking sympathetic.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says, heading towards the door.

“See you.” You can’t bring yourself to sound happy or excited as you watch her leave. It feels like your life force has been drained out of you, and yet you’re nowhere near done with the arguments tonight. You turn to Beomgyu, already expecting it.

“Please don’t listen to her,” he says. You blink up at him, confused. He’s not going to get mad at you? “I don’t know what she’s telling you, but don’t listen to it.”

You don’t have it in you to fight him right now. “I just chose you again, Beomgyu, even if I shouldn’t have. That should tell you everything.” It’s the last thing you say before heading off to your room. You don’t think your pout leaves your face all night.

Time and time again, you prove you can’t change. You can’t prioritize anything over Beomgyu, not even yourself. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.

You want to believe you can grow as a person, but it’s so impossible when Beomgyu insists on bringing you back to square one every chance he gets. Chaewon’s offer rings in your head, telling you there is a way out. You could stay with her and leave behind all the mess that comes with being here.

Your eyes water. If only you weren’t so weak. You can’t imagine how that life would be better than one with Beomgyu in it. You can’t abandon him; for both his sake and your own, it’s better if you stay. You just have to get used to this being your new life.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You end up spending most of your free time cooped up in his room. It’s better than being alone—your thoughts might send you spiraling if you’re left to deal with them on your own. If making you codependent was Beomgyu’s goal, it looks like he’s succeeding.

You let Beomgyu hold you in his bed, you let him wipe the tears off your face, you let him comfort you with peppered kisses all over your skin and honey coated words whispered into your ear. You let him do whatever he wants because it’s better than fighting with him and breaking yourself down even more.

You open your phone to see you’ve got a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Are you free today?

Well, technically you are…

You look over at Beomgyu, still caught up in his game. You think of spending time with Soobin, lounging in some restaurant or walking across the city. It’s nice, but any of that niceness is crushed when you think of telling Beomgyu that you’re going out with Soobin. You think of his petty arguments, of the tricks he has up his sleeve, of all the right words he knows just when to say to keep things going his way. You’ve had such a shit week that you just don’t feel like ruining your weekend like that.

You send your response.

I’m not :(

You shut off your phone and lay it against your chest. You feel like you’re becoming an awful person. A few minutes later, Beomgyu cheers and claps at his screen, pushing his chair out a bit and looking back at you.

“Come look at this,” he says. You wrap a blanket around yourself as you trudge over to his desk. He points to each statistic and explains how awesome and amazing they are, looking to you for validation.

“Super cool.” You nod and try to pull an impressed look, but he can always see through your bullshit.

“Why do you sound like that? What happened?” he asks. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Curse him and his stupid ability to read your mind.

You sigh. “I just feel like I’m always lying to Soobin recently.”

Beomgyu, ever the asshole, just smiles at that. “Why?”

“He asked if I was free today and I said no,” you explain.

“Well that’s right. You’re hanging out with me.”

“But we don’t really have plans. We hang out like this every day.” You don’t fight it when he pulls you into his lap. You relax into him.

“Just stop dragging him along. This is going nowhere.”

“It could, though,” you say.

“It couldn’t,” Beomgyu denies with complete certainty. He runs his fingers through your hair when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. You would make sure of it,” you say, defeated.

“Don’t act so innocent.” His voice is soft even when he says that.

“I was so set on him. You never liked me like this until you found out about him,” you say, equally as soft, no real fight in you.

“I always liked you like this.”

“No. You never acted like this.”

“I was scared of losing you to him, so I had to act like this,” he defends.

“It makes me feel crazy. Makes me feel like a bad person.”

He hums, still comforting you with his hand in your hair and an arm around your waist. He pulls you up just a bit to position you so that you’re face-to-face with him. The blanket falls off of you and onto the floor behind you. He coos when he sees your teary eyes, cupping your face.

“You’re right, I would make sure of it. I’d never let you get into a relationship,” he admits. His voice drips with gentleness, and it’s smooth as ever, but you don’t feel soothed by it. You back up when his face gets a little too close to yours.

“What if I only want to be friends?” you question.

“Then just be my friend. Don’t be his girlfriend, though,” he pleads. “Would you really hurt me like that?”

“I can’t be his friend?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

A little fire of rage is starting to burn inside you at his possessiveness. It’s like he can sense it, and he’s trying to calm it down, gently rubbing his hands down your thighs.

“Don’t touch me like that,” you demand. He moves his hands to rest on your hips instead. “Don’t touch me at all.”

He pries his hands off of you and holds them behind his head. You feel yourself getting pissed off, but for some reason you don’t make a move to get off his lap.

“Why do you treat me like this?” you ask harshly.

“Cause I’m in love with you,” he answers like he can’t hold it back anymore. Your heart stops and your eyes shoot to his own in shock. He’s looking at you with all the honesty he’s ever had. “So forgive me if I can’t stand you being with someone else.”

You open your mouth, but you have no clue what to say, so you just shut it and stare at him, dumbfounded. It takes a few seconds for rationality to hit you and urge you up and away from him. He stands up as soon as you do, holding onto your wrist.

“No, don’t go,” he begs, lacing your hands together. You lean your head into his chest and cry out in confusion. What are you supposed to do?! God, a part of you wishes you’d never even met Soobin now. If you knew it would come to this, you’d have never stepped foot in that library. It’s just not worth it. You don’t even know how you feel right now.

“What the fuck Beomgyu!” you yell as you burst into tears. Everything is ruined. You can’t be with Soobin. You can’t be with anyone. You can’t have your old dynamic with Beomgyu back. Nothing will be the same.

Beomgyu hugs you, swaying you comfortingly and slowly. You hear him sniffle. He doesn’t deserve to be crying right now. What reason does he have to cry? Everything has gone his way.

You drop to the floor and hold your face in your hands, crying into your palms. He sits in front of you and pushes your hands down, brushing your hair back. His eyes are red from his tears too, but he’s tending to you. Your stomach twists. You don’t know what to think. A guttural sob leaves you.

“Maybe this city isn’t right for you. Let’s move away,” Beomgyu offers, trying a new approach.

“Like you know what’s right for me,” you mock.

“I do,” he asserts.

“You don’t.”

“Just stop with this. Do you not love me?” he asks, angry and serious. You don’t respond. He calls your name. You look away from him.

You don’t know. Somewhere in this whole mess, you’ve lost your perception of what you feel for who. You don’t respond because you have no answer.

He whines and hangs his head, clutching his chest like you’ve just stabbed him in the heart. Always the drama queen. You feel yourself calming down a little as you see it. At least you’re not the only one breaking down now.

“You want to be with him that bad?” he asks. He looks at you with pathetic eyes, tears falling from them pitifully. You feel nothing.

He grabs you by the shoulders with urgency and desperation. You have no more fight in you, so you let it happen. He picks you up and sits you on the edge of his bed. He stands over you, holding your head up so your eyes meet. He frantically searches for something in them. You’re not sure what.

“Can you talk to me?” he requests. “At least give me that much?” He pulls your mouth open with his thumb, staring at it like he’s waiting for something to come out. You don’t know what possesses you, but you feel broken enough to not question it when you take his thumb in your mouth and suck. Perhaps you’re just used to turning to sex in the midst of heated moments now. He pulls it out and stares at you funny.

“What?” you ask. He gives a sigh of relief, and you realize it’s because you finally said something.

“We gotta talk about this,” he says.

What’s there to talk about? He told you what your whole life is going to look like anyway. You don’t even want to think about it anymore.

“Let me sleep,” you whisper. Your head is pounding.

“Okay,” he agrees, laying you back on his mattress, adjusting the pillow beneath your head. You shut your eyes. He tucks you in neatly, making sure you’re extra comfortable. He uses gentle fingers to tuck your hair out of your face. You feel his presence stick beside you like a guard dog until you fall asleep.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up with a clearer head. The room is dark, you must have slept your way into the night. You remember everything that happened and your eyes shoot open. Beomgyu’s sleeping soundly next to you. He has you right up against him, like he knew you’d try to run away as soon as you woke up. You realize that that’s what you should be doing right now.

You remember you left your phone on the bed somewhere. You feel around for it, more frantically the longer it takes, but you come up empty. A part of you wonders if Beomgyu took it. You shake the thought. He wouldn’t. You despise your mind for trying to paint your best friend as evil.

He can’t help how he feels, right? If he scared you or hurt you, he didn’t mean it. If he’s serious when he says he loves you, then he wouldn’t want to hurt you. You feel sick as you think it over. You probably shouldn’t run away. Where would you even go?

An idea pops into your mind, but you need your phone first.

Gathering your courage, you slip from Beomgyu’s grasp and get out of bed, causing as little commotion as you can. You scan the room with just your eyes, seeing if you can find your phone. You contain the urge to groan when you don’t see it anywhere. You bend down to check under the bed. Nothing.

You startle when you rise up and see Beomgyu looking at you. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m just looking for my phone.” You sound so meek and unnatural in your own ears. You sound scared of him.

“Oh.” He eases back into the bed. You didn’t realize how tense he got. Strange.

You look at him speculatively. “Do you… know where my phone is?”

He furrows his brows. “Are you accusing me right now?”

Yes. “No.” It’s so much harder to rationalize the situation when you’re talking to Beomgyu. He’s quiet for a minute, and it unnerves you. You wonder what he’s thinking.

You watch him closely as he reaches for something on his nightstand. It’s his phone. He taps around on it, and you have no clue what he’s doing until you hear it ring. He’s calling you.

The vibration of your phone is muffled, but present. Beomgyu looks to his side and lifts your pillow, revealing your phone. He hangs up the call from his end. You grab your phone, feeling guilty now.

“Now you can stop looking at me like I’m some psychopath,” he murmurs off-handedly. It stings your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

He sits up and stares at you, then lets out a heavy sigh. His eyes look puffy now from all his crying before, and you figure he must not have slept much. You wonder if he stayed up crying while you slept in his arms.

“I’m sorry too,” he says. You appreciate that, because he’s got a lot to be sorry for. “I got scared and it made me act crazy.”

So you’re finally having this conversation. Your heart rate picks up.

“You did. I guess I did too,” you say. You remember how you broke down. You remember everything he said. “Did you mean it all?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a second. “I meant it when I said I loved you.”

“And when you said you’d never let me have a relationship?” you push. He looks like you just kicked him, and he bites down his response. You remember what Chaewon said about him doing that, how he only does it because he knows you’re weak for him. Not this time. Fuck that. “Talk to me now, Beomgyu. I’ll walk out of your life forever if you don’t.”

He rushes to respond now, eyes wide with urgency. “I don’t know, I’m just desperate, and—and I need you.” He stands up, but doesn’t dare get too close to you. His hands are held together in prayer. “Don’t walk away. I’ll control myself now. Please stay. Who else do I have?”

You take a deep breath, trying to not let his words hit you too hard. You need to keep a clear mind. If your heart starts getting soft, you’ll lose to him again.

“I want you to never meddle in my love life again,” you say, speaking as clearly and confidently as you can.

“But I”—

“Never again. No excuses. Let me be.”

“But I love you!” Beomgyu cries, desperate to keep you to himself.

“Stop,” you insist, locking up the iron gates that protect your weak heart. You can’t let him get through.

“I love you, I love you, I love you! You can’t do this to me!”

You feel him slicing away at the bars guarding your heart. You have to get out of here before he breaks you down again.

“I’m staying at Chaewon’s tonight. If you try to contact me while I’m gone, you’ll never see me again. Give me space.” You fear your sanity might slip from you if you take too long to head out the door.

You leave the room, leave the apartment, but you still hear his cries. They echo in your mind and torture you as your feet take you to Chaewon’s house. You move as fast as you can, desperate to clear your head, but Beomgyu proves himself again to be a parasite, a stain you can never wash off.

Chaewon’s eyes widen when she sees you. You must look as rough as you feel. “What happened?” she asks, ushering you to her couch. She wipes your cheeks, brushing away tears you didn’t even know were there.

“Beomgyu loves me.” You choke on a sob, leaning forward until your head is buried in Chaewon’s chest, wrapping your arms around her body. You’re glad you don’t have to beg her to comfort you—she’s quick to pat your hair down and hold you while you let it all out.

“Honey, it’s okay,” she soothes. You’re soaking her shirt with your tears, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“No, everything has changed. Nothing’s okay.” Chaewon picks your head up at that, cupping your face so you’ll look her in the eyes. You sniffle back your tears, suddenly embarrassed by them when she’s looking at you so intensely.

“You will be okay. I promise you.” She sounds so sure of it that you have no choice but to believe her. You nod, and she looks pleased at that. Once she releases you from her hold, you wipe the wetness from your face. You feel yourself calming down.

“Thank you,” you say. Even if all you want to do in the moment is wallow in your own self-pity, you can’t let that be the rest of your life. Once you feel confident you won’t start crying again, you tell Chaewon everything that happened with Beomgyu. She’s quiet the whole time, nodding as you explain the whole ordeal. You don’t have it in you to joke about it right now, and you appreciate that she doesn’t try to either.

“Well, how do you feel? Do you love Beomgyu?” she asks.

You sigh. This is a loaded question. “I’m not in love with him, but I do love him. Even after everything he did, I still love him. I probably always will.”

Chaewon nods slowly and hums in acknowledgement. She takes a minute to ask her next question. “What about Soobin?”

You pout as you ponder it. When you think about being with Soobin now, it’s not heart fluttering anymore. Beomgyu ruined that for you. Maybe Beomgyu ruined any man for you. You can’t imagine talking to another guy, now—not for a while, anyway.

“I’m not in love with him either. I don’t know how I feel now,” you answer honestly.

You get another cryptic hum from Chaewon at that. “I think you should see Soobin tomorrow and see if that clears things up.”

Tomorrow? That’s so soon. You need time to recover from today. The thought of meeting up with Soobin fills you with some sort of dread and fear.

“I don’t know if I can ever see him again,” you admit.

It’s too late for you to come back from this. The damage is irreparable. Beomgyu has carved his name into you, and you can scratch it away all you want, but the slate will never be clean again. You’ll always be marred.

“See him one more time,” Chaewon insists. “Don’t give up yet.” You feel a little bit of life leave you as you sigh. You’re not the fighter that Chaewon wants you to be. You’ve tried so hard, but it never worked.

She puts a hand on your shoulder and continues, “Text him. Ask him to go out with you tomorrow. You can still make this work.” She picks up your phone and puts it in your hand.

You look into her eyes. She has enough hope in them to encourage you to unlock your phone and go to Soobin’s messages. You stare at your texts from earlier, regretting how you didn’t just accept his offer to hang out. You wonder how differently your day would have gone.

You take a deep breath and look at Chaewon for reassurance. Her smile gives you the courage to send something over.

If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to go out

You doubt he’s awake right now since it’s so late, but you’ll settle with seeing his response in the morning. Chaewon encourages you to get some rest, and you think half of the reason is because she’s tired too, but you don’t argue. If you’re seeing Soobin tomorrow, you’ll need as much rest as you can get tonight. You’ll sleep away the pain and open your heart up to whatever comes with Soobin tomorrow.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You do your best to not think about Beomgyu at all as soon as you meet up with Soobin. You want to enjoy your day, and you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. You’ve put up with so much, you need a break. A day out with Soobin could offer you that solace.

It’s colder by the lake that you walk along the edge of, but the sight is so nice that you don’t mind it. Being outside is helping you feel better, too. The lake is still mostly ice, with fresh snow piled on top of it.

“I’m glad we get to spend time together today,” Soobin says, walking slower until he comes to a stop. He looks angelic even with his nose red from the cold.

“Me too,” you say. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you were busy.” You can’t look him in the eye when he says that, it hurts too much. You weren’t nearly as busy as he thinks you were. Your mind was preoccupied with someone else.

“How has work been?” You almost cringe at how surface level the question feels. You’ve been past the small talk stage for a while now, but you’re having trouble thinking of what else to talk about. It’s not like you can talk about your own life as of recent.

“It’s been okay. I miss you sometimes when I’m working in the library,” he says. Your heart should flutter at that. You should feel weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach. Instead, you feel something inside you shrivel up. You push past the feeling, still determined to try to save this.

“I wish I went over more.” You wish you did a lot of things different.

“You still can,” he says, hopeful. You pray that he’s oblivious to your uncertainty. You smile at him, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels.

“I can,” you agree. A beat of silence follows. You look out to the frozen lake. In the summer, this place is alive with the sound of birds chirping and people laughing. It’s quite different now. You look at the barren trees and strain your ears for any noise.

You don’t usually hate winter, but this year it feels eternal. You’re dying for the snow to start melting and to feel the sun again. The sight of flowers in bloom, of leaves returning to trees, is something you find yourself craving more than ever.

“Do you like the snow?” you ask, turning to Soobin.

“I love it. It makes everything look brighter.” You nod, looking back out to the world. The sunlight reflects off the stretch of snow, and you suppose it does look brighter like this. A gust of wind sends snow blowing at the two of you. You flinch, and he laughs.

“Have you ever gone skiing?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I went snowboarding with Beomgyu once, but I hated it. I had so many bruises the next day.” You laugh a little at the memory.

“I’ve been waiting to hear that,” Soobin says. You look at him in confusion. “Your laugh,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” You feel your face heat up.

“I love skiing, even though I’m not great at it. You should try. I know a great place. We can fall and get matching bruises,” he says, grinning. It puts a smile on your face, and you don’t have to force it this time.

“I don’t know if I can take up that offer,” you say.

Soobin nods. “That’s okay.”

It goes quiet again after that. Silence doesn’t bother you normally, but it feels deeper than usual when there’s nothing going on around you. You sway on your feet, kicking awkwardly at the snow.

“Are you alright? You’re never this quiet,” Soobin notes. You sigh. You couldn’t even begin to explain how you feel to him.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I’m such a bore today,” you apologize, wanting to shrink into yourself.

“I’m never bored of you. Tell me what’s going on,” he prompts, looking at you attentively. You’re flattered at how he shows his care for you.

You stare at him for a long second, wondering how much would be acceptable to spill. “It’s just Beomgyu.”

Soobin laughs for a second at that. “That’s not the first time I heard that sentence.” He doesn’t look upset or bitter, but it still makes you feel bad. Even if he’s joking, it’s true that you keep bringing Beomgyu up around him.

“I don’t know what to do about him anymore.” You wish you had the guts to say more, but you’re a coward.

Soobin takes a while to respond to that, so long that you think he might just drop the conversation. His smile has shrunk, and you fear that he’s finally putting the pieces together. “You do what feels right,” he advises.

You swallow, trying to calm your nerves. “How do I know what’s right?” Your brows are upturned, lips pouted as you struggle to draw a conclusion. His eyes trail down your face like he’s assessing you.

“Your heart will tell you.” He has no clue the torment your heart’s been through. The poor thing is too weak to make any decisions. Following it will lead you nowhere.

You shake your head. “No it won’t.”

He sighs, and that’s when you know he’s caught onto your dilemma. “You already know what your heart wants. You’re just ignoring it.”

His words strike you with panic. You search his eyes to try to find the answer he’s come to. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“I just feel like…” Soobin starts. You hang onto his words as he struggles to finish his thought. “You’re always thinking of him.”

Your heart sinks. It feels like the world has gone weak, and everything around you is ready to collapse. Can you even deny what he said? You open your mouth to try, but any noise struggles to come out.

“So, can I ask you something?” he continues.

You nod. This moment feels so delicate and fragile, you’re scared of breaking it. Your voice comes out in a whisper when you respond, “Yes.”

“Did you like me at all?” His eyes dart between yours.

You hate this so much. You can’t protect your pride. Guilt spills out from the pit of your stomach and sickens you. Have you turned into something vile? Have you hurt Soobin so much?

“Of course I did. You’re wonderful,” you answer honestly. He wipes a tear from your cheek when it falls from your eye.

“And now?” He keeps his hand on your face. You can't stand his kindness. The knife twists further.

“I don’t know. Beomgyu—he…” You don’t even know where to go with that sentence.

“He fell for you?” he fills in. “I can see why.” He brushes your hair back. Even now, his smile is pure and soft.

“Soobin…” You’re stuck with the most impossible dilemma. A selfish part of you begs to keep Soobin around. The butterflies he summons still come back to life at times like these. You’ll never have to question his sanity. What bloomed between you was innocent and untarnished until Beomgyu dug his claws into you.

The other half of you tells you to stop torturing everyone. Yourself, Soobin, Beomgyu—you all suffer the longer you remain on the fence. You can’t have both men in your life, and you know that you’re not going to give up Beomgyu so easily. You just wish you could figure something out.

“I know your choice,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. How? How can he know so clearly when not even you do?

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips. The most gentle kiss you’ve ever felt is placed delicately onto it. You blink up at him. It’s almost like you can already see him flickering away.

He’s letting you go.

You feel the moment melting. You feel the world slowly coming back to life around you, and you want to ask it for one more minute. One more minute, where you and Soobin can be the only two people that exist. He’s putting your hand down, he’s releasing his hold, he’s getting ready to go. You know better than to cry and beg for him now. This is what has to happen.

“Do you know your way home from here?” he asks.

You’re crushed, but you don’t show it. “Yes.”

He steps back. “I’m glad I knew you. You’re the best thing this city has to offer.”

“That’s not true.” There is nothing more cursed in this city than you.

He smiles at you. It’s the last time you’ll ever see it. “It is. I hope he helps you see that.”

That’s the last thing he says to you before he leaves for good. You watch him walk away. Your feet don’t itch to run for him. Your hands don’t yearn to tug him back. The only thing you want now is to see your best friend.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You try to control the way your body shakes as you stand in front of the door. You need to get yourself together. You steady your breathing. Your fist meets the door to knock on it gently, like you’re unsure if you actually want to go in or not.

You’re glad you ran out of tears already. It would be quite embarrassing for Chaewon to open the door to you crying for the second day in a row.

She assesses you with a frown. “It didn’t go well, did it?”

There’s no need to sugar coat it. “It’s over.”

Chaewon’s lips part in surprise. She’s quiet, and for the first time, it seems like she doesn’t know what to say. You walk to her room without a word, and she follows just as silently. You take your usual spots on her bed, and you try to make yourself feel something. You just come up empty.

“Are you okay?” Chaewon asks, breaking the silence hesitantly.

“I guess,” you answer. You didn’t expect Soobin to let you go. Selfishly, you thought he would never leave you. Chaewon sighs heavily, but you don’t dare to look at her right now. Whether it’s disappointment or sadness on her face, you don’t want to know.

Karma must be real. This was always bound to happen, you realize. This is some cosmic joke, some lesson from the universe to tell you what happens when you let control slip out of your hands. You dug your own grave. Soobin was always going to leave you.

A pang in your chest strikes you when you think of the beginning. Soobin’s shy introduction at the library, his giggles at your flirtations, his eagerness to keep you talking. Everything was so light and easy. You could’ve sworn there was an invisible string connecting you.

“I’m sorry. It’s killing me that I can’t do anything for you,” Chaewon says, and you finally look at her. Her eyes are brimming with tears, lips quivering in an effort to not cry. You frown and hold her hand.

“You’ve done everything for me,” you correct. If it weren’t for all her talks with you in the past couple months, you would have gone crazy long ago. You’d be caught between Beomgyu’s teeth. Now you’re here, sulking over Soobin with her, instead of going home to your other best friend. “You helped me more than you think.”

Chaewon gives you a small smile as a tear falls from her eye. Her hand squeezes yours, and it makes you genuinely smile for a second. “I’m always here for you,” she says.

“Same here, for anything.” She scooches closer to you, and you rest your head on her shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” You ponder her question for a minute, trying to match a label to your inner turmoil.

You sigh, “Numb.”

She hums. “What are you thinking about?” That question brings the pang in your chest back. You can do nothing but succumb to the defeat and hopelessness of it all.

“We never even kissed.” You stare into nothingness as you meddle with the fact. It’s a stupid thing to be upset about, but you feel like you had your one shot at romance ripped away from you. Who can you blame besides yourself?

You could’ve had innocent, pure love. You could’ve had sweet kisses and interlocked hands and a hundred cute little dates, but you traded it all for anger-laced intimacy, endless confusion, and nights ending in tears. You’re a fool.

Chaewon looks at you with such pity that it makes your stomach twist. You must seem so pathetic right now. A part of you wishes you’d run off to Beomgyu instead. He would’ve pampered you, made you forget about Soobin if only for a moment. You know you were right to see Chaewon instead, though. You’ve made enough dumb decisions with your life. You’re sick of destroying everything because you can’t let go of Beomgyu.

Chaewon seems to be thinking the same thing. “I can’t stop thinking about where you’d be now if Beomgyu never brought himself into this.”

You tighten your lips, not knowing what to say. You don’t want to think about it at all. “Yeah.”

She turns to you fully, looking more serious now. “You’re not going back to Beomgyu again. Don’t let him get away with this,” she says.

It’s not that easy. What does she expect you to do instead? Ignore him, drop him now that it’s already too late? You’d gain nothing from that at this point.

“It’s useless,” you say. She takes both your hands in hers, holding them over her heart and looking into your eyes.

“I care about you too much to watch you spiral like this. Stay with me. I’ll help you bring your things here.” She looks at you with pleading eyes. Your heartbeat races. The choice is yours.

“I can’t burden you like that,” you say, shaking your head.

“It would burden me more to know you’re letting Beomgyu win again,” she insists. You exhale shakily, trying to stop your thoughts from flying by so fast. You need a clearer mind to be able to make this decision.

“I need to think about it.” Chaewon nods, always understanding of you.

“Just let me know. I promise I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” You feel like you owe this girl the world.

You look out the window, noticing how dark it is. You would stay over her house again, but something inside you urges you to go home. You shift on the bed, stretching as you get ready to stand up again.

“I think I’m gonna head home now,” you say, and you see her eyebrows knit in confusion immediately. You know what she’s thinking. “It’s not for Beomgyu. It’s for me.”

She still looks uneasy, but she doesn’t put up a fight. You’re glad she saves her lectures on Beomgyu this once. She gives you a parting hug.

“Think about my offer,” she says as you pull away. Her eyes are hopeful, like she’s counting on you for this one thing.

“I will,” you promise.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get home, you take yourself straight to Beomgyu’s room. It’s late, and you know he must be sleeping, but you don’t want to feel alone for even a second. You don’t want to think about Soobin.

Beomgyu’s room is slightly illuminated by the glow of his gaming setup. He looks so peaceful laying in his bed. His chest rises and falls in a perfect rhythm, and you find yourself calming down. You stand there in the doorway for a minute, debating whether or not it was too far to go and wrap your arms around him.

He stirs in his sleep. Perhaps he felt your presence—you wouldn’t doubt it at this point. The boy has always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you.

“Gyu?” you whisper, testing if he’s waking up or not. His eyes flutter open, so slightly and sleepily that you barely see it. When he notices you standing at his door, he shifts on the bed to make room for you. He pats the spot next to him on the mattress, and your body responds to his call immediately. It seems the magnets attracting you together have never left.

You settle in beside him, cozying up to his warmth. Your eyes are unblinking as they stare at his ceiling. You barely feel like you’re in your own body as Beomgyu tucks you into his side. You only sort of register it as the weight of his arm falls across your waist.

“You came back,” Beomgyu says, voice scratchy and deep from sleep.

“You knew I would.” He doesn’t respond. He knows it’s true.

His breathing is starting to grow slower again, and your heart pounds in unease. You won’t be able to fall asleep. You don’t want him to leave you in the real world right now.

“Beomgyu,” you say in a quiet voice. He hums in response, and you feel the vibration of it in your bones. “I ended things with Soobin.”

He freezes. You don’t even feel him breathe anymore. You keep your gaze off of him; if he’s happy, you don’t want to see it. He tries to sit up, but you coax him back down. You don’t want to be up right now.

You continue, “Or, I guess, he ended things with me.”

His silence would irritate you if you didn’t feel so numb. You focus on your breathing, still staring at the ceiling. You feel weightless, like your body could break from the slightest shove.

Finally, he moves beside you. It’s just a turn of his head, but it’s enough to make you feel a little less stiff. You feel his eyes on you, but you can’t be bothered to meet them.

“Well, I’m not gonna say I’m sorry…” he says. You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s smiling.

“I know. Cause you’re an asshole.”

“But I’m not a liar.”

“Sometimes I wish you were,” you sigh. Your life might’ve been easier in that case.

He ignores that. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want, whatever you miss from him, I’m here.”

You don’t need that. You just need a cork in your chest to fill the space your heart has leapt from. His bandages will never stop the bleeding when it’s this profuse.

“I think you were right, I don’t know if this city’s right for me,” you admit quietly, resting your head on his chest. You hope the world is kind enough to let you find sleep tonight. His response comes in the form of hugging you closer to his body. You let it happen, soaking in all his warmth and comfort. This might be the last time you see him, after all.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t say goodbye. You pack a couple bags while Beomgyu’s not home, doing your best to ignore your blurred vision from the tears welling in your eyes. Chaewon greets you with open arms when you arrive at her place.

“Just these?” Chaewon asks, picking up your bags.

“Yeah, I didn’t grab everything. I left most of my stuff there,” you explain, voice hoarse from your crying earlier.

“That’s okay.” She brings your bags to her work room, which she promised to repurpose for you as your own room. You tried saying that you could crash on her couch for now, but she insisted that she’d do this for you, even if it’s just for a couple weeks.

The room is mostly empty—Chaewon must’ve been up all night clearing it out—save for her desk in the corner. You’re reminded of when you moved into your apartment with Beomgyu. The thrill of independence, of being a young adult in a new corner of the world. Everything was exciting and new back then, and you miss the innocence that came with it.

“My friend has a twin size mattress that he’s bringing over later today, we can find a frame for that at some furniture store,” Chaewon says.

“Oh my gosh, your friend doesn’t have to do that!” you exclaim. You already feel yourself becoming a burden. “An air mattress is fine.”

“Stop, I’m probably doing him a favor helping him get rid of it. I’m not making you sleep on an air mattress, those things suck.”

“We shouldn’t buy a bed frame yet, I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” you reason, but Chaewon’s not hearing it, shaking her head and dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand.

“We can just get something cheap. I know a really good place. I got mine there for, like, three hundred.” Your eyes widen. You can’t control your natural reaction to a great bargain. “Yeah, I know. So let’s go there.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of setting the bed frame up, putting half of your things away, and chatting with Chaewon about how nervous you are about this.

The two of you are cramped into your twin bed, talking the night away like it was any normal sleepover. Chaewon gave you one of her LED lamps, and its multicolored glow is the only source of light in the room. You lean into her, and she lets you practically use her as a pillow.

“Did you tell Beomgyu?” she asks. Her fingers run through your hair calmingly.

“No.” You don’t know if you should feel bad for that. He is your best friend...

“You don’t have to,” she reassures. “You should mute his number. He’s going to find out fast and bug you nonstop.”

Your eyes well up once again. You would have never, ever imagined your friendship with Beomgyu would come to this. Is it for the better? You’ll hate yourself forever if this is the wrong choice. If only you could see into the future. That would have saved you a lot of trouble long ago.

“He’ll know I came to you. He knows exactly where to show up,” you say.

“He could knock on my door all damn day if he wants, he’s not coming in.”

“With how he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a blanket and started sleeping at your door,” you joke. Your laughter is quick to turn to tears, and you don’t even know why. You wipe your eyes, not wanting to cry again, but you can’t help the loss you feel. Beomgyu’s your best friend. You just wish it could’ve stayed that way.

“It’s okay,” Chaewon comforts.

“No, I don’t want to cry,” you say, sniffling back the rest of your tears. “Let’s just watch videos and fall asleep.”

Chaewon leans over to pick up her tablet at the end of your bed, unlocking it to resume the movie you were playing in the background earlier. “Do you still want to watch this?” she asks.

“We should put on YouTube,” you offer instead. You yawn, closing your eyes as she looks for something interesting to put on. You’re already asleep by the time she makes her choice.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The first thing you see after waking up is Beomgyu’s texts. Chaewon would tell you to ignore him, but she’s sleeping soundly next to you and therefore can’t judge you for opening his texts immediately.

[Beomgyu] u out for the night?

[Beomgyu] helloooooo

[Beomgyu] ok well make sure u get to work on time

You should be getting ready for work. You shouldn’t be answering him. You don’t even know what to say, but your fingers itch to respond.

He still doesn’t know you won’t be coming back for a bit. Should you keep it that way? An ache in your heart begs you to spill everything to him. You look at Chaewon again, making sure she’s asleep. You look back to your phone with a sigh and let your fingers fly across the keyboard without a second thought.

You don’t reread the text once you send it. The only move you make afterwards is to mute his notifications. Something about it makes you feel so empty. You don’t know if you feel like a whole new person or the shell of a person. You don’t have time to linger on it either, because you have to get ready for work.

The feeling persists throughout the day. You feel like a robot, like you’re living life on autopilot, letting your body carry you around while your soul is busy searching for the important answers. You don’t care which font your boss would like best for the title on this report, you don’t care what kind of smoothie your coworker should get. You want to know how to fix your life.

Your walk back from work is much stranger now that you can’t take the path your feet have memorized so well. The thought that this could be the path you’d walk to walk everyday for weeks or even months strikes you with a sort of dismal feeling. This feels different than going to Chaewon’s place after work just to hang out. This is going to Chaewon’s place because that’s where you have to go.

You’re not granted reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts as you make your way home to Chaewon. You question every choice you’ve made up to this point, all the way back to if moving here with Beomgyu was ever a good idea in the first place.

Is there a way to repair all the damage that has been done? The thought of starting all over again is frightening. If you ruined it all, if there’s no going back to how things were, then you might as well make a life for yourself somewhere new.

Maybe you could convince Chaewon to fly across the country with you. You picture a life where you don’t have to worry about bumping into Beomgyu or Soobin again. It both frightens and intrigues you. You can’t be so greedy, though; she has everything set out for her here. You can’t rip her away from the city that loves her so much. You just wish it was as good to you.

The possibilities of what could have been haunt you. You look at passing couples with a sense of envy, picturing you and Soobin in their place. Every store you pass, every street you walk down is a memory that you’ve made. It’s almost too much to handle.

Your feet almost stop as you pass the library. You only let your eyes linger on the building for a few seconds, but that’s long enough to make your insides twist. The warm lights that seep through the windows don’t feel comforting to you anymore. You walk a little faster and tug your jacket closer to your body. The trip back to Chaewon’s feels a little colder now.

You open your messages with Beomgyu as you near her place. You don’t know if you should be happy or scared that he still hasn’t responded. You finally allow yourself to read your parting message, feeling a little emptier as the words linger in your mind with nothing back from him.

Hi Gyu, I’m staying with Chaewon for a bit. I’ll come back if and when I’m ready. I really regret a lot of my recent decisions, and I think I just needed this as a refresh.

Don’t be mad at me. You’ll always be my best friend. Love ya

You swallow down the knot building in your throat. This is for the better. You repeat the phrase like a mantra as you make it to Chaewon’s house. You wonder when her place will start feeling enough like home, when you’ll stop craving to return to your real one. You open the door and shove down all your thoughts and feelings.

This is for the better.

notes: sorry team soobin. sorry team beomgyu. no one wins... and maybe that's what needed to happen... much love and i hope you enjoyed the read!!!

taglist: @beomgyusluver @blankliving @ewsnup @flowzel @immelissaaa @multistansimp4life @nanamongmong

#raya recommends #my girl nina #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #soobin x reader #txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt angst #soobin angst #beomgyu angst #beomgyu fic #txt fic #soobin fic

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