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just-nc-tea · 2 months ago

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the truth untold ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

⭑.ᐟ Fake Dating - Sim Jaeyun Jake’s world takes a nosedive when he gets a wedding invitation from his high school ex—the same ex who cheated on him—with your ex. Desperate to avoid showing up alone Jake ropes you into a fake relationship, just for the evening. Originally. But if you’re going to sell the lie, you have to make it convincing. That means dates, inside jokes, learning the little details about each other that real couples would know. By the time the wedding arrives, neither of you are sure where the act ends and the truth begins.

ᝰ genre. Hockeyplayer! Jake, college sports , angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive, fake dating.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of weed, alcohol and nicotine, suggestive language & actions, shitty exes, strained family relations, mention of death, desciption of murder (Y/N is a anthropology student and works with dead bodies, but it's nothing detailed) PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 31.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 2

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You dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment, your legs and shoulder aching under the weight of your uni bag and the bag of groceries you were carrying. You were regretting your gym session while you were on the bench press and now, after three back-to-back lectures and one surprise pop quiz later, you felt like a shell of a person.

When you reached the small cluster of mailboxes near your door, you let out a sigh. You haven’t looked into your mailbox for a few days and there were a ton of letters, most likely promotional flyers, peeking out of it. You fumbled with the key, twisted it open, and immediately regretted it. A flood of envelopes tumbled out, some landing on your sneakers, others scattering across the floor. “Of course,” you muttered under your breath, crouching to gather the mess. Flyers for pizza places you’d never try, glossy brochures for local gyms that clearly overestimated your interest in fitness. You flipped through the pile absentmindedly. You froze.

Your name, neatly scrawled in delicate cursive on an off-white envelope, stood out in the sea of junk mail. The paper was expensive, thick to the touch. You turned the envelope around, revealing a wax seal with two conjoined rings in the middle. A RSVP? You rattled your brain, thinking who might be getting married, but your mind came up with nothing. Curiosity got the better of you, and you tore the envelope open. Inside, a golden-embossed wedding invitation practically sparkled under the streetlight. You scanned the details, and snorted. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sophia Williams and Marcus Baker. We’d be honored to have you celebrate our special day.

Your ex-best friend. And your ex-boyfriend. Getting married.

You snorted. “Special day, my ass,” you muttered, shoving the invitation back into the envelope. The nerve. There was no way you were going up at that shit show to play nice, as if the two of them didn’t break your heart in a million pieces. Whatever sick sense of closure they thought they were offering you, you weren't interested. There was no chance in hell you were going to that wedding. You put the letter back into its envelope and tossed it together with your junk mail into your bags continuing your way into your apartment.

You were on your way to your Forensic Taphonomy class, when you spotted Jake sitting on one of the benches along the water fountain on the campus, his eyes closed while he enjoyed the early spring sun. You dropped down next to him on bench, startling him: “Hi Jake.” His head shoot into your direction and his eyes flew open. “Y/N!”, he said while putting a hand to his chest, “You just scared the shit out of me.” You laughed and shook your head. “I am sorry Jake. Do you know what scared the shit out of me yesterday? Marcus and Sophias RSVP.” Jake gawked at you: “Their what?”

“Their RSVP. Those two are getting married and had the audacity to invite me. I don’t even know where they got my new address from.”, you shrugged, leaning back and closing your eyes. You didn’t get particularly much sunlight in the lab or the library, so every ray of sunshine had to be cherished. “Oh shit. Are you going?”, Jake asked. “To the wedding of my ex best friends and my ex, who cheated on me with said best friend? Fuck no. I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than do that.”, you snorted, shaking your head. Jake let out a low whistle, leaning back on the bench with a bitter smirk tugging at his lips. “Man, they’ve got some nerve.” You snorted, crossing your arms as you turned your head into his direction. “Right? Honestly, I thought I’d never have to see them again. But they apparently don’t share that opinion.” Jake shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Jesus christ. Why would they get married? You can’t tell me they really love each other.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “God. How were we ever in love with those two narcissistic assholes? We are too nice and pretty to have lost time and energy even talking to them.” Jake glanced over at you, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “We were young and naive. And we had to learn the hard way. But are you really not tempted to attend? Maybe dump red wine on Marcus’s tux for good measure?” The mental image made you laugh, but you quickly shook your head. “Nah, I don’t have the energy for that kind of drama. Plus, I’d probably just end up making a fool of myself. They’re not worth the effort.” Jake’s lips quivered in a half-smile, his bitterness softening just slightly. “Yeah. They’re really not.” The two of you sat there in silence for a moment, the sound of the fountain splashing in the background. Jake broke the silence.

“You know, I always thought Sophia was smarter than this. Cheating with Marcus of all people? Like, come on. At least pick someone who doesn’t talk about himself in the third person.” You laughed, covering your mouth to stifle the sound. “Right? And Marcus was always so... ugh. He thought he was God’s gift to women. The fact that she fell for- not the fact that I fell for him is just–” You threw up your hands in mock exasperation. Jake smirked. “Don’t remind me. I still have nightmares about all the dumb shit he used to say. He was such an asshole to everyone.” “And yet here we are, left in the dust while they ride off into their happily-ever-after,” you said dryly, rolling your eyes. “Life’s funny like that.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he glanced at you. “Funny isn’t the word I’d use, but yeah. Guess we’re stuck with the same shitty chapter in our history books.” You gave him a faint smile, the bitterness in his tone mirroring your own. “Well, I should probably get going,” you said, standing up and brushing off your pants. “Forensic Taphonomy waits for no one.” “Tapho-what?”, Jake asked.

Jake was toweling his hair dry, while walking into the kitchen of his dorm. Heeseung was basically sleeping with his eyes open while Jay was aggressively whipping eggs. Whatever he was cooking right now smelled heavenly. But Jake would eat anything right now. Practice had been brutal, and he was ready to collapse, but his stomach continuously made growling sounds that he couldn’t ignore. He dropped down next to Heeseung, startling his captain awake. On the table in front of him was a pile of letters that someone had brought inside. His gaze narrowed at the fancy, embossed envelope propped against a stack of unopened mail. It wasn’t hard to guess who it was from. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters, ripping open the golden waxseal. For a moment, he just stared at it, blinking, trying to process the sheer audacity it must’ve taken to send him this. His jaw clenched, and the annoyance bubbled up fast. Who the hell invites both their exes to their wedding–the same people they cheated on to be together?

“What’s up?”, Heeseung asked, resting his head on his hand. Jake tossed the letter on the table again, leaning back into the chair and signing exasperated. “Who the fuck invites both their exes to their wedding. They cheated on us. For fucks sake!” “Who?”, Jay asked, turning around still whipping eggs. “Sophia and Marcus are getting married. Y/N received her invitation yesterday and now,”, he gestured towards the letter, “they apparently thought it would be appropriate to invite me as well.” “What the fuck.”, Heeseung leaned forward to grab the letter. “Dear Jake. You are cordially invited to the wedding of Sophia Williams and Marcus Baker. We’d be honored to have you celebrate our special day.”

Jake pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes. “Cordially invited my ass.” Jay snorted, turning back to his pan but keeping an ear on the conversation. “That’s insane. Why would they even think you’d show up?” Jake let out a bitter laugh, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh. “Our families still have a lot to do with each other. My parents are still obsessed with Sophia. They used to invite her over for dinner even after we broke up. Didn’t even tell me until I ran into her at the house once.” He shook his head, rubbing his temple. “I’m almost positive my dad’s going to call me any second and gush about how I should be happy for her and how disappointed he is that it’s not me she is marrying.”

Heeseung’s jaw dropped. “They what? You’re kidding.” “I wish I was,” Jake muttered. “They’ve been close with her parents forever. Business stuff or whatever. My dad loved that she came from a ‘respectable’ family, you know? I could’ve been dating the queen of England and she still wouldn’t have measured up to Sophia in his eyes.” Jay slid a plate of egg fried rice onto the counter and turned to face them fully, arms crossed. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean you have to go. You’re a grown-ass man, Jake. Just don’t show up. Screw your dad. You don’t owe him anything.” Jake huffed out a dry laugh, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, easier said than done. You know my dad, Jay. This wedding is going to be crawling with people he thinks are ‘important.’ You know how he is about appearances. If I don’t go, it’ll somehow be my fault for making the family look bad.”

Heeseung leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “But what about you, man? Doesn’t matter to him that this is…what’s the word? Oh, right. Humiliating. You’re just supposed to suck it up and show up all smiles?" “Probably,” Jake muttered, crossing his arms. “In his eyes, I probably deserved it. He’s already implied before that if Sophia cheated, it’s because I ‘let her slip through my fingers.’” Jay’s eyes widened in disbelief. “He actually said that?" Jake nodded grimly. “Yup. Every time I screw up, he brings it up. Like losing her was some monumental failure on my part. Honestly, he probably thinks that showing up to the wedding is a chance to redeem myself somehow." Heeseung shook his head, looking genuinely pissed on Jake’s behalf. “That’s messed up, man. Beyond messed up. You can’t let him keep controlling you like that.”

“What choice do I have?” Jake shot back, frustration lacing his voice. “If I don’t go, it’ll be endless guilt trips and lectures. And let’s not forget the part where my dad’s probably going to find a way to make it about how I’m an embarrassment to the family.” He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m telling you, I won’t have a choice. If my dad wants me there, I’ll have to go." Jay frowned, leaning against the counter. “So, what, you just show up and let them parade you around?” “I don’t know. Wait until my parents text me and then be the disappointment I am born to be I guess.”, Jake shrugged.

Jake was mindlessly scrolling on his phone, listening to his professors rambling over bananas and their ability to act as a payment agent? He was watching a reel recap of the top moments of their last game when he got the message he knew was going to come. His stomach tightened.

Dad:

You’ll be at the wedding. No excuses.

Jake gritted his teeth. Of course.

Jake: I’m thinking about it.

He shoved the phone into his pocket, forcing himself to focus on the lecture. Bananas, yes. Economical life cycle.

Rotting bananas no good for economical life cycle.

Oh god. What?

His phone buzzed again.

Dad: Do you have any idea how bad it will look if you don’t show? The Kims have been family friends for years, and your absence would reflect poorly on all of us. Don’t let this turn into yet another disappointment.

Jake felt the heat rise to his face. The words “yet another disappointment” echoed in his head like a slap. He closed his notebook, muttered a quick apology to the professor, and slipped out of the classroom to take a breath.

Just as he reached the hallway, his phone started ringing.

He took a deep breath and answered with a resigned, “Yes, Dad?”

The voice on the other end was sharp, controlled, and laced with cold authority. “Don’t give me that tone, Jaeyun.”

Jaeyun. Never Jake. Or son. Or anything else that would indicate that his father feels any positive emotion towards him.

“You are coming to that wedding.”, his dad said in a voice that signaled he didn’t take no as an answer.

“I just don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Sophia cheated on me. Why the hell would I want to be at their wedding?”, Jake said, biting back his frustration.

“Because it’s not about what you want,” his father snapped. “This is about appearances, Jake. About responsibility. This isn’t up for debate, Jake. You’re expected to be there. The whole family is going. Your brother is flying in from the States for this–it’s a family obligation. Sophia was-”

“Don’t,” Jake interrupted, his grip tightening on the phone. “Don’t start talking about how Sophia was perfect or how I screwed it up. She cheated on me, Dad.”

“And what does that say about you?” his father countered coldly.

Jake had to bite his tongue to stop himself from talking back.

“You had her,” his father continued. “She was beautiful, smart, and from a good family. But somehow, you weren’t enough to keep her. Now she has found a husband from a respectable family and you are still bitter about it.”

Why can’t his dad just leave him alone? What did he care about Jake's love life? He already had his golden son, who was as good as married, worked in the company and did everything right.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. “I’m not going alone,” he said, the words tumbling out.

“Excuse me?”

“I said I’m not going alone, if i am attending at all.” Jake repeated, his voice firmer this time.

There was a long, heavy pause on the other end of the line.

“What’s her name?” his father asked, his tone even and clinical, like he was conducting a job interview.

Jake swallowed hard, realizing too late the corner he’d just backed himself into. He took a breath, bracing himself. “Y/N. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.” Y/N? Did he just utter your name? Fuck.

Another pause. This one was longer, heavier.

“What’s her last name?” his dad finally asked, his tone quiet and deliberate.

Jake swallowed hard, wishing he could take back every word.

“Y/N,” he said. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Y/L/N.” His father repeated the name slowly, almost like he was testing it. “I’ll assume she’s presentable. Background?”

Jake bristled. “She’s... a forensic anthropology student. Smart. Independent.”

“Hmm.” The sound was noncommittal, but Jake could sense the wheels turning. “Well, I’ll expect to meet her at the wedding.”

The call ended abruptly, leaving Jake standing in the hallway, gripping his phone so tightly it felt like it might shatter.

Jake let his head fall back against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment.

And what does that say about you?

As if Sophia’s cheating was some kind of personal failure on his part.

Sophia was the picture perfect girlfriend his dad expected him to have. She was fairly pretty, clever, came from a family just as well-connected as theirs. Jake had never really felt butterflies. Not with Sophia. Not with anyone afterwards.

Their whole relationship was build on public image, on convenience, on the unspoken understanding that they would look good together.

Sophia was in a similar position as Jake. If his dad would have known about half the stuff she did he would have never been this delighted when he told him he was dating her. She was partying more than she was studying, being bad influence for all of her friends. And her father had enough and told her that there would be some serious consequences for her if she didn’t step down. And her dad approved of him. So she approached him first.

She was all of his firsts, though. His first kiss, his first time, his first real relationship.

But connection? Love? He never had that with Sophia. He tried to. Tried to tell himself he loved her, thought he loved her. But thinking back at it he probably never did. That didn’t mean her cheating didn’t hurt less. He and Sophia still had their moments and she was one of his most trusted persons, she knew almost everything about him and he knew a lot of things about her.

Jake still remembered the day he found out about Sophia cheating on him. He wasn’t the one who uncovered the truth. You were.

He remembered being confused when you stood in his hallway looking lost, your face tear streaked. How you barely breathed his name before saying, Jake, I need to tell you something.

You told him how Sophia came clean to you, how she told you that she had slept with your boyfriend, how she was in love with him and how she didnt want this to ruin your friendship.

He hadn’t believed you at first. He didn’t want to. But he also knew you wouldn’t lie about something like that. He didn’t really know you all too well, but he knew you well enough to know that you probably really loved Marcus, no matter what kind of douchebag he was and that it really hurt you. Scratch that. You were devastated. He was a year above you but your paths did cross quite frequently in school. You didn’t attend school for almost two weeks and when you came back you looked so sad. His heart ached every time he saw you.

A day after you told him what happened he confronted Sophia.

She hadn’t even really tried to deny it. Instead, she had just sighed, almost exasperated, and told him that they both knew they were never real in the first place. That for her at least this was all show, that they looked good together, that their families approved. That she was sorry if he really felt like he was in love with her.

Jake had ended things immediately. He was more heart broken over the whole thing than he though he would be and when he turned to his parents he didn’t really get the reassurance he had hoped for. His father, of course, had been disappointed–not because Jake had been cheated on, but because he had lost Sophia. His mom however did her best to help him get over Sophia and suddenly they were eating galbitang three times a week.

And now, Sophia was getting married to someone “respectable,” while Jake was still the disappointment.

He let out a bitter chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He shouldn’t have answered his father’s call.

Now, on top of everything else, he had to figure out how to convince you to go to this damn wedding and pretend to be his girlfriend.

What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Everything went wrong.

First, he realized that the number you used in Australia was obviously not the one you were using in Korea now. Then, he realized that he didn’t follow you on Instagram anymore. After an embarrassingly long debate with himself, he finally sent a follow request, which you accepted a few hours later. Great. Progress.

Except now he had to actually message you.

“Hi Y/N. I kinda lied to my dad and now he thinks you’re my girlfriend. You kinda have to attend my ex’s wedding with me. I’m so sorry. But it would embarrass me, and my dad would murder me if you said no. Please go with me. Thank you. Bye :)”

No. Absolutely not. He deleted it before he could even consider pressing send. Another draft followed. Then another. Then another. Each one somehow worse than the last.

In the end, he gave up dming you entirely. This was a conversation he had to have face to face.

Maybe he could catch you on campus? Except he didn’t know your timetable, your lab, or even which building your classes were in. The more he thought about it, the worse it got.

So now here he was, sitting on the stairs in front of one of the medical buildings, praying to whoever might be listening that you’d pass by. He thought your classes were in this area—wasn’t your major technically part of the medical school? Oh, God. What was he doing? And for what? To impress his father? His father, of all people?

Jake exhaled sharply, dragging his hands down his face. He was such an idiot.

Then, as if the universe decided to throw him a bone, he spotted you.

You were walking briskly across the courtyard, a bag slung over your shoulder, earbuds in. Jake shot to his feet. “Y/N!”

You didn’t hear him. He cursed under his breath, jogging a few steps before calling out again, louder this time. “Y/N! Do you have five minutes?”

You looked up, squinting slightly, and then frowned when you recognized him. “Jake? What are you doing here?” He jogged a few steps to meet you before you could brush past him. “Hey, do you have five minutes?”

You checked your watch and shot him a skeptical look. “Not really. I’m heading to class. What’s up?”

He opened his mouth, but instead of starting with the careful, logical explanation he’d rehearsed in his head, it all came out in a breathless, panicked rush.

“So,Ikindofliedtomydadyesterdayandnowhethinksyou’remygirlfriend.” He took a breath,

“and it’s this whole thing because he’s forcing me to go to Sophia and Marcus’s wedding, and I panicked, and I said I wasn’t going alone, and then he kept asking questions, and I said your name, and now—” He took another breath and continued, slower this time.

“And now he thinks we’re dating, and I really need you to come to this wedding with me because if I show up alone, he’s going to make my life hell. And also, I might die. Not literally, but close.”

You blinked.

Then, slowly, you pushed your phone into your bag and crossed your arms. You narrowed your eyes. “What the fuck, Jake?”

Jake winced, realizing how ridiculous it all sounded. “Uh, yeah. So I lied to my dad. About us. And now he thinks we’re dating.”

You lowered your bag, letting it dangle in one hand, and crossed your arms. “Jake. Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” He looked at you, wide-eyed and sheepish. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I had no one else to turn to. You’re the only person who gets how screwed up this wedding thing is. And technically you are already invited. So it wouldn’t be weird if we got there together? Except that you would have to kinda pretend to love me and shit.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head in disbelief. “Oh my god. Okay. Fine. Forget class—now I have five minutes. What the actual fuck, Jake?”

“I panicked!” he said defensively. “He was going off about how embarrassing it would be if I showed up alone, and how I’m not married, and how I don’t have a girlfriend, and how my life’s a failure compared to my brother’s—so I panicked, and I said I was bringing you.”

You blinked at him, your arms crossing tightly over your chest. “So you told him I am your girlfriend. And you’re bringing me?”

“Yes.” He winced, looking at the ground. “I know it’s insane, but hear me out.”

“There’s no way I’m going to that wedding, Jake,” you said flatly. “Absolutely not.”

“Look, I get it. I don’t want to go either. But think about it.” He gestured between the two of you. “We’ll both have someone to lean on at the wedding, no awkward moments alone, and it’ll keep my dad off my back. It’s a win-win.”

You raised an eyebrow, incredulous. “Win-win? What do I get out of this?”

“Anything you want,” Jake said quickly, his desperation shining through. “I’ll owe you, big time. Name it, and I’ll do it.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Jake. This is ridiculous. You’re literally asking me to be your girlfriend for a weekend to impress your father.”

“I know,” he said, his tone softer now. “But I swear, it won’t be as bad as you think. We’ll go, we’ll stick together, and then we’re out. You can even make fun of Marcus and Sophia the whole time.”

You sighed, clearly conflicted. “Jake… I really don’t want to go to that wedding.”

“Please,” he said, clasping his hands together like he was praying. “Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking.”

Please Y/N. Please, please, please, please.

You looked at him for a long moment, then sighed again. “Fine. I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything.”

“Fair,” Jake said, relief washing over him. “That’s all I ask.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for class.”

“Right, sorry.” He stepped aside, smiling sheepishly. “Thanks, Y/N. Seriously.”

You stared at the wedding invitation sitting on your desk. The idea of going to that wedding was so ridiculous. You weren’t about to subject yourself to that humiliation.

But as much as you hated the idea of being anywhere near Marcus and Sophia, there was a part of you that missed your old friend group. All of you went different paths, to different unis and countries and you were sure that they were all invited and would attend the wedding.

Jake’s desperate proposal kept replaying in your head. The idea of showing up together wasn’t the worst. If anything, it’d probably make things easier. At least you had someone in your corner that wasn’t your dad or your mom. Jake was fun, charming and good looking and spending the evening together might even be fun. And you knew that Marcus resented Jake, deeply. He would probably not like seeing the two of you together.

That thought alone gave you a sick kind of satisfaction.

You were sitting at a table near the ice rink, your biology notes spread out in front of you. It wasn’t the most ideal study spot, but you knew that Jake had to walk by here after practice, and you didn’t feel like chasing him down across campus. You could have sent him a message, but talking to your future fake-boyfriend about your future fake-relationship seemed more appropriate then texting back and forth.

You pretended to focus on your notes, but your mind kept drifting back to Jake. Objectively, he was attractive—annoyingly so, in fact. And while you weren’t particularly close, you’d only ever heard good things about him from mutual friends and well… Sophia.

Honestly? If you had to fake-date someone, he wasn’t the worst candidate.

You were just beginning to lose feeling in your toes when you spotted him. He was walking down the path, hockey gear slung over his shoulder, his hair still damp from the shower.

“Jake!” You stood up and waved, catching his attention.

He blinked at you, surprised, but adjusted course and made his way over. “Y/N. Hi.”

“Let’s do it.”

Jake frowned. “What?”

“Let’s go to that godforsaken wedding together.”

His brows shot up. He dropped his bag on the ground and sat down beside you, still looking skeptical. “You’re kidding. You really want to do this?”

“Want?” You scoffed. “No. But it seems like you don’t have much of a choice, and I sure as hell don’t want to give those two the satisfaction of thinking I care.”

Jake leaned back and exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Thank you Y/N. You are saving me from being ridiculed by the asshole I call father.”

You laughed and shook your head. “No worries. I’ll probably regret it, but whatever.”

“I think i have to warn you about my dad though.”, Jake turned to you.

You raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“He probably thinks I lied, which I kinda did. He won’t believe us if we don’t seem disgustingly in love.”

“Oh, shit,” you muttered.

Jake nodded, tilting his head toward you. “Yeah.”

“How exactly do you want to do this then Sim? I am not really a good actor. I can hold your hand but being all lovey dovey? I doubt it.”, you sighed, rubbing your temples.

You were itching to light a cigarette. You couldn’t believe this is actually happening. This is insane. Absolutely insane. Your hand instinctively moves toward your pocket, fingers brushing against the crumpled pack of cigarettes. Just one. To calm your nerves.

“I don’t really know. I haven’t actually thought that far to be honest.”, his shoulder sacked down.

“Well I have watched and read enough about fake dating that I know that we should at least, you know, get to know each other a bit. Like I know you are a nerd and you play hockey? Which is probably not enough to seem convincing.”, you shrugged.

You glance at Jake out of the corner of your eye, trying to gauge his reaction. Does he even realize how ridiculous this is?

“I am not a nerd.”, Jake protested.

“Do you still collect Lego?”, you deadpanned.

“I-Yes-But- Yeah I do but it doesn’t make me a nerd.”, he sputtered and shook his head, a few water drops from his hair hit your face.

“Mhm. Sure. Whatever you think Jakeyboy.”, you hummed and grinned at him.

He huffed and leaned back, crossing his arms in front of his body. “So what do you wanna do?”

“To get to know each other?”, you asked, playing with the end of your scarf. “ I guess we should spend time together. And we should definitely work out some kind of like I don't know, timeline for when and how we met an shit.”

“Well,” Jake started, drumming his fingers against the table, “okay. We met on campus, obviously. We got closer through mutual friends.”

You exhaled through your nose, thinking. “Who’s supposed to be our mutual friend?”

He thought for a second before saying, “Jay. He’s probably the only one who’d actually go along with this bullshit if anyone asks. And I mean Sophia? We did hang out back in highschool.”

You nodded. “True. And as for how long we’ve been dating?”

Jake shrugged. “What’s a believable timeline?”

“Three months?”

“The wedding is in three months.”

“Right.” You frowned. “Five months, then.”

“Five months is good.”, he ran a hand over his face, exhaling. “My dad is going to ask a lot more questions than that tho. He’s also going to be watching us like a hawk. What is stuff you are okay with doing and what not?”

You took a moment to think about it. You haven’t really had the time to think about dating since you broke up with Marcus. Graduating and your classes didn’t really grant you much free time so you pushed the thought of dating aside. Marcus was your first in everything and you haven’t really had the desire to kiss anyone after him but kissing Jake didn’t seem like the worst thing to do. Sophia always gushed over him being a very good kisser and well frankly being very good in bed. You probably knew more about Jake's sex life than he would like you to know.

“I don’t really care honestly. I don’t really feel like making out with you in front of your dad to convince him. If the situation requires it, a normal kiss is fine. Only if you are clean though.”, you shrugged.

He tilted his head. “Requires it?”

You shrugged again. “What if someone calls bullshit?”

He hummed and nodded.

“Could you do me a favour?”, he asked after a beat of silence.

You raised your eyebrows. “A bigger one than this already is?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Could you, you know, like not tell your friends that we are doing this? It’s already embarrassing enough that I can’t really pull someone and have to bring a fake date, I really don’t want to give my friends ammunition to make fun of me.”

You wrinkled your nose. “So you want me to lie to my friends?”

He exhaled through his nose. “No. Yes? Kinda? I mean, I guess, we are going to meet up quite frequently now to get to know each other? All platonic of course. So like you could just tell them, that we started talking after we got the invites, which is not wrong and we are now just befriending each other, which also is not going to be a lie. Just don’t tell them about the fake dating to the wedding.”

You signed, leaning against the backrest of the bench. Chaewon and Yujin would never shut up about you fake dating Jake Sim and would most definitely make fun of him. And probably you. You were in the same situation after all. Single and invited to your cheating exes wedding. You were done and over with Marcus. Yes he broke your heart and you were devastated but in hindsight he was such a horrible partner that all the pain in your heart turned into anger and resentment. Same went for Sophia, all the bad decisions you made in highschool were an accumulation of them being just horrible friends.

After a pause, you nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?”, Jake asked, turning towards you, his face hopeful.

“Okay. I won’t tell them.”, you signed, “What kind of platonic frequent meetings did you have in mind? Not gonna lie, my classes take up a big chunk of my free time. I feel like I am more in the lab and the library or a random classroom than my own home.”

“I could come study with you! I definitely should also get back on track.”, he beamed at you.

You nodded and hummed, already dreading the time you will lose while you were talking to Jake, but whatever.

He leaned in closer, resting his elbow on the table as he watched you with an exaggerated doe-eyed look. “We should probably get more comfortable with touching. Hand-holding, hugging… you know, typical couple stuff in front of the others. I tend to be quite clingy when i like someone.”, he said, his voice dropping playfully.

Without missing a beat you shoved his face away.

Jake laughed, leaning back. “I’m just saying, if you ever want to hold my hand, Y/N, you just have to ask.”

You deadpanned. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jake smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “So, deal?”

You sighed, but there was a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Deal.”

The two of you sat in silence for a second, thinking about what you were about to do. God you really needed a smoke now.

Jake drummed his fingers against the table, glancing at you. “So… you got any plans for the rest of the evening?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “figured, we might as well get a head start.”

You considered it for a second. “What are you suggesting?”

“Fried chicken?” he offered, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

You huffed a quiet laugh. “An incredibly romantic first date.”

“Right? Thought I’d go all out,” Jake deadpanned, waiting for you to gather your things.

You shook your head but shoved your notes into your bag anyway. “Fine. You’re paying.”

“Of course. I am a gentleman Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, falling into step beside him.

The place Jake picked was small, tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store, but it smelled amazing. Jake led the way to a booth near the window, sliding in across from you as he grabbed a menu.

“You’ve been here before?” you asked, scanning the options.

“Yeah,” Jake nodded. “We come here after games sometimes.”

You hummed, then glanced up at him. “So. Where do we start?”

Jake smirked, setting the menu down. “The basics, I guess. Favorite color?”

You gave him a blank stare. “Seriously?”

“What? Gotta start somewhere.”

You sighed. “Fine. Yellow.”

Jake nodded. “Nice. Mine’s blue.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Alright, Jakey. What else do I need to know about you?”

He thought for a second before saying, “I have an older brother. He’s working for my dads company in the States right now and he has been engaged since christmas. My parents. Well, you already know my dad is an absolute hard-ass. My mom’s a lot more chill, she honestly is great. Oh and we have a dog. Her name is Layla.”

You knew his dad was an asshole. Sophia told you as much back in highschool. From your experience you concluded that rich old business men were rarely nice persons. “Do they expect you to go pro?”

Jake hesitated, then shrugged. “No. I mean yeah? Kinda? My mom is very supportive and my dad thinks hockey is just a hobby and that I should focus on my studies.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Is he the reason why you didn’t go into physics? Back when we were in Highschool you loved it. I always wondered why you are in econ now.”

Jake hesitated, his grin fading. “Yeah. He’s… big on appearances. He wants me to follow in his footsteps, and go into the family business. Physics didn’t fit the mold, so here I am.”

“That’s… awful,” you said softly. You couldn’t imagine your parents holding you back from your passion. Your mom and dad were honestly gifts from the gods and you had a great childhood. You were still very close to both of them.

Jake shrugged again, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. “It’s whatever. What about you? Why forensic anthropology?”

You smiled, relaxing a little. “My parents are both doctors - surgeon dad, ER mom. Growing up, I thought medicine was the coolest thing ever, but I also didn’t want to deal with people.”

Jake chuckled. “That tracks.”

“Then I got obsessed with bones,” you continued, your smile widening. “The show, not like actual Bones and eventually, I realized I could study the same thing the main character studied, and here we are.”

Jake tilted his head, looking genuinely impressed. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

“It is,” you said, a hint of pride in your voice. “But it’s a lot of work. Lab hours, endless classes, late nights. I spend more time with composing bodies than living ones.”

Jake made a face. “Great. Can’t wait for that to come up in conversation at the wedding.”

“Oh, it will,” you grinned. “I’ll make sure of it.”

You leaned back in your seat, stretching your legs out under the table. “Alright. So tell me stuff about hockey. I am sure that will come up since you do love it.”

Jake perked up slightly, his fingers still idly picking at his fries. “Do you know anything about hockey already?”

“I know you hit a puck with a stick and sometimes punch people,” you said, tilting your head. “That about sums it up, right?”

Jake groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s like saying surgery is just cutting people open.”

You smirked. “Well, am I wrong?”

Jake shook his head but laughed. “Okay, fine. What do you want to know?”

You shrugged, sipping your drink. “I don’t know. Why do you like it?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. He blinked, then looked down at his hands for a second, like he was trying to put words to a feeling. “It’s… freeing, I guess. When you’re on the ice, everything else disappears. It’s just you, the puck, the team. You don’t have time to think about anything else.”

You nodded, watching the way his face softened as he spoke. “That sounds nice.”

Jake glanced up at you, a little surprised. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The diner around you buzzed with quiet conversation, the occasional clang from the kitchen. It was surprisingly comfortable.

Then you nudged his foot under the table. “So, are you good?”

Jake scoffed. “Am I good?”

“Well, yeah,” you grinned. “Like do you sit on the bench? Is that a thing? Do you play a lot? I wouldn’t know.”

Jake leaned back, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Wow. That hurts.”

You laughed. “I’m just saying.”

“I’ll have you know,” Jake said, pointing a fry at you, “I’m actually really good. Top scorer on the team, even.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Impressive.”

Jake smirked, looking smug. “Damn right.”

You took another sip of your drink, tilting your head slightly as you looked at him. “You know, it’s weird actually talking to you like this.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, reaching for another fry. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you gestured vaguely, “back in high school, we were always around each other, but we never really talked. You were just Sophia’s boyfriend. And I was Sophia’s best friend. It’s like we existed in the same space but never actually interacted unless she forced us to.”

Jake let out a short laugh, nodding. “Yeah. You know, she used to make me come to movie nights with you? Even though I had zero reason to be there?”

“Oh, I remember,” you smirked. “You’d sit there pretending to pay attention, and then the second Sophia looked away, you’d be on your phone playing clash of clans.”

Jake grinned. “Hey, in my defense, your romcoms weren’t exactly exciting and I had a lot of energy as a teenager. You also always complained that you should be studying instead of watching movies.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “I mean not all of us had that sports scholarship as a back up plan. Some people had to actually study and be good in classes.”

Jake snorted. “Yeah, joke’s on me. Turns out, my dad never wanted that future for me anyway.”

That made you pause. You studied him for a moment, catching the way his expression flickered before he masked it with a casual shrug. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I always thought I would study together with Marcus, him being able to tutor me and shit. Then he cheated and then I went into Anthro instead of business. I guess neither of us ended up exactly where we thought we’d be.”

Jake looked at you then, something unreadable in his gaze. “Yeah. Guess not.”

The moment passed quickly, and he grabbed a fry from your plate, tossing it in his mouth. “But, hey, at least now I get to go on a fake date with my ex’s best friend. That’s a plot twist I never saw coming.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Yeah, well. Life’s funny like that.”

You’ve been in the library for two hours, slumped over your case notes, fingers rubbing at your eyes as you try to focus. Nothing makes sense. The forensic pathology case you're working on has a bunch of conflicting details, and no matter how much you dig through the information your teammates collected, you're not getting anywhere. The injuries don’t align with the victim’s position, and the more you try to piece it together, the more frustrating it becomes. You let out a long sigh, your frustration practically radiating from you as you sit back in your chair, staring blankly at the wall in front of you, when the door to your study room clicked open and Jake poked his head into the room.

“Here you are!”, he entered the room.

“Hi Jake.”, you signed and turned your head towards him.

“Still at it?” he asked, setting his bag down and taking a seat at the table across from you. He had asked you the day before if you were free for a platonic getting-to-know-each-other-to-seem-convincing-date, and you had to tell him no since you had to study. You were making little to no progress with a body you and a group of four others were tasked with, so you were stuck in the lab or the library until the deadline on Friday.

“Yeah,” you answered, rubbing your eyes again. “This case is just... I don’t even know anymore. None of the injuries make sense. I keep going over the information, and it’s like nothing fits.”

Jake gave a small nod, pulling out a laptop and carefully putting your notes to the side. “Sounds rough. Did you find anything new on the body today?”

You gave him a dry look. “Do I look like we found anything new, Jakey?”

He chuckled at your misery and fell into his studying routine, the occasional click of his pen filling the silence as you went back to your case notes. You both tried to focus, but the silence only helped you spiral further into frustration. The puzzle pieces just wouldn’t connect, and you felt like you were running in circles.

Finally, you slammed the file down in front of you with a groan. “Ugh! I can’t do this anymore!” you muttered. “I’ve been staring at these same injuries for an hour, and they just—nothing makes sense! I can’t figure out how the stab wound angles align with the body position.”

Jake glanced over, then leaned back in his chair, making a thoughtful face. “The victim’s injuries don’t match up with how you think the crime happened?”

“Yeah!” you said, looking at him desperately. “Like, there’s a stab wound here, but the victim was lying in a completely different position than the one that would’ve caused it. And the other injuries don’t line up either.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at the case file as though he were mulling it over. “Have you tried acting it out?”

You shot him an confused look. “You want me to act out a murder?”

“Why not?” Jake grinned. “It’s not like anyone else is here to witness it, and it could help you get out of your head.”

For a second, you were too tired to even protest, and the absurdity of it actually made you laugh. You shook your head. “Okay, fine. Let’s pretend we’re the victim and the killer, then.”

Jake immediately stood up, fully committing to the role. “I’m the victim. I’ll be... right here,” he said, dramatically flopping down on one of the chairs.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how seriously he was taking this. “Okay, I’m the killer. What am I supposed to do here?”

“Try stabbing me,” Jake said, rolling his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m waiting to be murdered.”

You hesitated, then walked over to where he was lying. “Alright, so I stab you here?” you said, positioning your pen as if it were a knife, looking back at your notes. Jake was actually not lying in the right position, so you adjusted the way he was slouching on the chair slightly.

“And now,” Jake flopped his head back dramatically, “try getting your position right. That’s important as well, right?”

You paused. “Wait a minute,” You turned back to your notes. “What if the position doesn’t even matter? What if the injuries happened at different times? What if the killer was trying to cover up the first stab wound by causing more damage? Oh my god that would explain why this– oh my god i can’t believe i am this stupid. I even put it down as perimortal.”

Jake stopped in his act, looking up at you with a raised eyebrow. “Huh. So the victim didn’t just get stabbed once?”

You shook your head. “No, he has like 15 or 16 wounds, all made by the same knife… but maybe at different points in time. The first wound has to have happened somewhere else. The injuries don’t add up because they weren’t caused all at once. Those were made to cover up the initial cause of death, because the big knife is probably traceable.”

Jake leaned back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Okay?”

It was like the entire case had just clicked into place, and it was all because you had let yourself stop overthinking it for a second. How could you have not thought about that? This was so obvious. Maybe studying with Jake wasn’t as much as a waste of time as you thought.

“Okay, wait,” you said, settling back in your seat, scrolling through your notes until you found the pictures of the stab wounds you had taken earlier that day and turned them toward Jake.

“Look here,” you pointed at a particular dent in the bones. “This is the cause of death. And the rest of the cuts in the ribcage bones are from a different angle and way weaker, most likely made with a different knife. So the body was probably moved, and the killer or maybe another person did the rest of the damage.”

Jake nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Damn, look at me. Maybe I should also go into forensics. I think we make a pretty good team. We could clear cases together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Sure, Jakey. If you wanna look at some more gruesome bodies and have the smell of death linger around you, let’s go.”

He scrunched his nose. “On second thought, I think I would rather stay with Econ.”

You shook your head and giggled.

After finally giving your brain a break, you and Jake packed up your things and left the library. You stepped outside, stretching your arms above your head and your back made a satisfying cracking noise. Without thinking too much about it, you reached into your pocket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it.

Jake, who had been rummaging through his bag for something, glanced up. His movements stilled when he saw the cigarette between your fingers.

He blinked once. Then twice.

“What,” he said flatly, like his brain was still buffering, “the hell are you doing?”

You exhaled, letting the smoke curl into the air. “Smoking?”

Jake just stared at you, completely thrown. “You—” He cut himself off, eyes narrowing as he stepped closer. “Since when do you smoke?”

You shrugged. “For a while now.”

He scoffed in disbelief. “You study forensic pathology. You literally just spent hours complaining about injuries and cause of death, and you still–”

Before you could react, he reached out and plucked the cigarette right from your fingers.

“Seriously, Y/N. This is bad for you.”

You blinked at him, caught between annoyance and amusement. “Jake, give it back.”

“Nope.”

“Jake.”

“I’m not letting you poison yourself,” he said, holding the cigarette out of reach like you were a child he was scolding.

“Yah!” You frowned, moving to take it back, but Jake just held it out of reach, his expression now shifting to full-on disapproval.

“You, of all people, should know what these do to the body,” he scolded. “How are you in forensics and still put this shit in your lungs?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like I chain-smoke every day.”

Jake scoffed again, clearly unimpressed. “Oh, great. I’ll tell your lungs that so they feel better.” And with that, he crushed the cigarette between his underneath his shoe before tossing it into a nearby trash bin.

You stared at him, half annoyed, half amused. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he echoed, still giving you that disappointed look. “You study dead bodies all day. What part of that made you think, ‘Hm, yeah, let me shorten my own lifespan’?”

You sighed, stuffing your hands into your pockets. “Didn’t know you cared so much, Jakey.”

He ran a hand through his hair, still looking exasperated. “I just think it’s stupid.”

You huffed but didn’t argue. You knew he was right. Smoking was a bad habit you picked up thanks to Marcus and you weren’t able to shake it off until now.

After a moment, Jake let out a breath, as if shaking off his irritation, and nudged your shoulder lightly. “Come on. Let’s get something to eat. I am starving.”

“You know, we should make this a regular thing.”, you said looking at Jake while taking a sip of your iced tea and scrunching your nose.

“What do you mean?”, Jake watched as you opened a packet of sugar, dumping the entire thing in your ice tea.

“Going to cafes.”, you shrug, “There are so many cute cafes here and I have a list of them to try out but i never got around to try them all. Maybe we could make this our thing? Going to a new cafe every week?”

Its been a little bit more than three weeks since you and Jake first started to spend time with each other and he had to say it was surprisingly nice to hang out with you. His schedule was packed with practice and games while you were studying a lot. He sometimes thought that you spend a bit too much time in the library or the lab but he also knew that it was your main place to socialize with your squint friends. So he was happy to get you out of there on occasion.

Jake didn’t even think about it when he slid his latte across the table and took your lemon iced tea in return. During the last few times you’ve been out to grab food or drinks he noticed that you like to be a bit experimental with your orders. Asking the waiters for their favourites or Jake if he thought a particular drink would taste well. He took one sip and immediately winced at how absurdly sour your drink of today was.

You blinked at him, looking between the drinks. “Did you just–”

“You clearly hate that,” he said, nodding toward the lemon tea. “And you put so much sugar in your drinks, you might as well have ordered something else entirely.”

Your lips parted in surprise before you huffed out a small laugh. “Well, damn. Chivalry isn’t dead after all.”

Jake just smirked, taking another sip of your tea suffering from the sourness while you happily drank his latte.

“I think that's a great idea.”, he then answered your question from before. “The weekly cafe thing. I mean it would definitely help with the whole building up a real connection and getting to know each other better.” He honestly was looking forward to meeting you every time you scheduled one of your getting-to-know-each-other-to-seem-convincing-dates. There have been 4 so far, but you had been texting quite frequently in between. Him asking how your classes were and you asking how training or his games went. He was pretty pleased with himself when you told him that you got an A thanks to his participation as a dummy victim in the library and you brought him a piece of cake as thank you when you met a few days later.

You hummed in agreement, stirring your (his) iced latte. For a while, you both sat in comfortable silence, the occasional sound of a spoon clinking against a glass filling the space between words.

You broke the silence and leaned forward slightly. “Do you like it here?”

Jake glanced up at you. “Korea?”

You nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, swirling his straw around his glass, trying to mix the sugar into the ice tea in hopes that it toned down the sourness. “I mean, I miss Australia sometimes, but I like it here. The city, the people.”

You hummed. “Same. I miss home sometimes, but I like being in Seoul. It’s nice having a fresh start, you know?”

Jake nodded. “Yeah. Plus, I love living with my roommates. Heeseung is a menace, and Jay’s the closest thing we have to a responsible adult. Their girlfriends—or well, Heeseung’s girlfriend and Jay’s almost-girlfriend—are also fun to be around. I think you’d like them.”

You smiled. “They sound fun.”

“They are.”

“I am sure you would like Chaewon and Yujin as well.” you said, sipping your (his) drink. “We met in first year, and they kind of adopted me. Took pity on me looking lost on my first day. I was really young when I started university, thinking back at it now.”

Jake raised a brow. “How old?”

“Seventeen.”

“Oh yeah?”, Jake tried to think of a seventeen year old you.

He remembered always thinking you were pretty cute in your school uniform—always so put together, always so proper. While he and Sophia were constantly scolded for their messy ties and rolled-up skirts, you were the picture of perfection, your blazer buttoned just right, your hair neatly pinned back. Even now, years later, you still dressed like that. Thoughtful, elegant, always intentional. Now, as he stood there, watching you fidget with the hem of your coat, he couldn’t help but smile. You were still the same person you’d always been, meticulous, thoughtful, a little bit nerdy.

“Mhm.” Your gaze drifted toward a small pond near the café’s patio, where a few kids were jumping around in front of it.

“You still are young, Y/N,” he said, following your gaze. “Get to my age, and then let’s talk about that again.”

You snorted. “You are like a year older than me. Probably less. My birthday is coming up soon.”

“Oh? When?”

“In like five weeks?”, you took another sip of his latte.

Jake’s lips twitched. “Are you gonna throw a party?”

“Probably not. I’d much rather go to parties than have to clean up the mess.”

He chuckled. “Fair.”

He would have eaten a broom if you would have said yes. You never really one for big parties, but still attend every time. Most of the time he found you and Sophia smoking outside with Marcus and his friends. That idiot had such a bad influence on you and he hated seeing it back then. Marcus was a year older than Jake and therefore almost two years older than you and he pretended to be a bad boy. Which was cringe on its own but he tried to convince you that being a bit more rebellious was cool. It annoyed him back then so much he made it his mission to talk to you and get you away from your boyfriend and his friends, when he got the chance. Mhm maybe he did spend a bit more time than he initially remembered with you. He never understood what you saw in Marcus.

“Are you going to the spring break party next week? The girls and I are planning to go.”, you interrupted his thoughts.

“I don’t know yet. We’re playing a game that day and the day before. I’ll probably be dead tired,” he admitted, stealing a piece of your cake.

You tapped your finger against your glass, then glanced up at him. “You should come.”

Jake raised a brow. “You want me to crash girls’ night?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, idiot. It’s not really girls’ night if we attend a frat party, but I think it would be nice to see you there. I kinda wanna see how adult Jake parties. You were fun back in highschool, even though you scolded Sophia and me for being dumb shits every five minutes.”

Jake studied you for a second before a slow, amused grin pulled at his lips.

“You want me to scold you again? I will if I catch you smoking.”

“I am fully aware of my deathly habit of inhaling nicotine and I am committing to the bit so hush. Also now I am a legal adult who can buy their own cigarettes.”

Just then a gust of wind brushed past, prompting you to tug your jacket tighter around yourself. As you adjusted, your bag tipped slightly, and your phone and a pack of cigarettes clattered onto the table.

Jake’s gaze flickered down to them, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly while you put both back into your bag and put the bag onto the floor.

Jake exhaled, raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.” After that it was silent for a moment, just the sound of the children playing in the park and the birds chirping up in the trees .

“You know,” he said, his voice breaking the silence, “you still dress like you’re in school. All put together and stuff. It’s kind of adorable.”

You shot him a look, your cheeks flushing slightly, and he grinned. Oh. He liked that. “What do you mean with that, Sim?”

“Well you were always so put together and propper and look at you now. Always so put together and propper, even when you wear your lab goggles.”, he chuckled. Last week he barged into your lab (after asking the professor for permission) and dragged you out for burgers. He’d taken approximately a million 0.5 pictures of you that day, wearing your lab coat and gigantic goggles.

“You looked like a mad scientist,” he’d said, grinning. “Big glasses and all. It’s cute.”

“I’m not cute,” you’d protested, swatting at him, but he’d just laughed, dodging your hand.

The spring break party was in full swing, the bass from the music vibrating through the floor as you leaned against the kitchen counter, drink in hand. Chaewon and Yujin had abandoned you shortly after you got there, leaving you to people-watch and sip your drink. You were just about to text Jake to see if he was coming when you heard a familiar laugh.

You turned your head toward the kitchen door, and there he was Jake. Even back in highschool you understood what all the girls drooling over him saw in him. He looked unfairly good. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on you, his face lit up with that stupid boyish grin of his.

“Y/N!” he called, his voice loud and a little too enthusiastic. He started making his way over, weaving through the crowd like a man on a mission.

You smirked, setting your drink down on the counter. “Hey, Jakeyboy. I heard you won.”

Jake didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled you into a hug so tight it lifted you off your feet. You laughed, your hands resting on his shoulders as he spun you around once before setting you back down. The hugs were something new you were doing. But you had absolutely nothing against it.

“We crushed them,” he said, his voice brimming with pride. “Absolutely destroyed them.”

“I am glad! You were so worried! Is Jay feeling better?”, you asked softly, fixing the collar of his shirt when he set you down.

“Yeah. When we came in he disappeared and went to search for his girlfriend.”, he rolled his eyes but smiled. You hummed and took a sip from your drink, he stole your cup and took a sip scrunching up his nose in disgust. “Y/N you have a horrible taste in drinks.”

“That's not true. This is a sex on the beach? How can that be bad Jake?”, you spluttered stealing your cup back.

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “It’s way too weak. You definitely need something stronger!” He turned to the counter behind him, rummaging through the bottles until he pulled out a half-empty bottle of tequila. “Here.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Tequila? Really?”

“Trust me,” he said, grinning as he poured two shots. He handed one to you and held up the other. “Cheers, Y/Nie!”

You laughed, clinking your shot glass against his. “Cheers, Jakey.”

You both downed the shots, and you winced as the tequila burned its way down your throat. Jake laughed, his hand brushing against your arm. “See? Way better than that sugary crap you were drinking.”

“Debatable,” you said, sticking your tongue out at him. But you were smiling, and so was he.

The music shifted, and the opening notes of Umbrella filled the room. Jake’s eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hand. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

“What? No—” you started to protest, but he was already pulling you toward the makeshift dance floor.

“You’re not gonna make me dance alone, are you?” he said, turning to you with an exaggerated pout.

You rolled your eyes but let him drag you into the crowd. Jake was already moving and you laughed, shaking your head as you started to dance with him.

“You’re such a dork,” you said, but you were smiling. When did Jake become this…cute? Back in highschool he always watched over you like a guard dog when you met at parties. Admittedly you were underage and easily convinced to do dumb shit, but he seemed a bit tense back then, almost worried. And he for sure never made you dance. But this was nice. Seeing him laugh this freely, genuinely enjoying his time. He apparently needed a fresh start even more than you did, but it was nice to see that he got what he needed.

“Yeah, but you’re dancing with me, so what does that say about you?” he shot back, his grin widening.

You didn’t argue. Instead, just matched his energy and sang along to Umbrella.

You spend quite some time dancing together, joined by your or his friends sometimes. Every time a Katy Perry song came on–which, for some reason, was way more often than usual–Jake would pull you back to the kitchen for another shot. He made not only you but also his friends and teammates and their girlfriends take shots in honor of Katy Perry, when they were around. By the sixth one, you were both laughing so hard you could barely stand.

“I think the universe is trying to tell us something,” Jake said, leaning against the counter as he poured another round.

“Yeah, that we’re gonna regret this tomorrow,” you said, taking the shot glass from him.

Jake laughed, his hand brushing against yours as he handed you the salt. “Worth it.”

You smirked, licking the back of your hand and sprinkling salt on it. “You’re such a bad influence.”

Compared to Marcus he definitely wasn’t. You did so many things to impress him that you weren’t proud of. Some of things turned into habits you couldn’t shake off, even 2 years later.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you downed the shot, the tequila burning less this time. Jake watched you, his grin soft and a little dazed. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer. “Yeah? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You weren’t sure if you were imagining things but it looked like Jake’s eyes flickered down to your lips and then back up to yours. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your stomach flipped. You smiled, your fingers brushing intentionally against his as you set the shot glass down. “Me too.”

Jake wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside. The night had blurred together in a haze of tequila shots, bad dancing, and more shots. He’d lost you at some point, or maybe you’ve lost him, and now he was sitting on the porch steps, staring up at the stars and wondering how penguins could survive in such cold weather. His ass was cold. He couldn't imagine living somewhere even colder and having to sit on the floor.

The door creaked open behind him, and Sunghoon stepped outside, a beer in hand. “There you are,” he said, plopping down next to Jake. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

Jake blinked, trying to focus on Sunghoons face. “Why?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “Because you disappeared for, like, three hours. Who were you dancing with earlier?”

Jake frowned, trying to remember. Dancing. Right. Y/N. “Oh. That was Y/N.”

Sunghoon’s eyes lit up. “Y/N? As in, the Y/N?”

Jake shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon repeated, grinning. “She’s here? At this party? And you didn’t think to mention it?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but then he froze. “Wait. Where is she?”

Sunghoon laughed, shaking his head. “You lost her?”

Jake ignored him, standing up a little too quickly and swaying on his feet. “I didn’t lose her. I just… misplaced her.”

Sunghoon snorted. “Sure.”

Jake had looked everywhere for you or at least he thought he had. He got stopped several times by other people and pulled to the kitchen for shots and his head was spinning just enough to make it hard to focus. Eventually, he gave up and stumbled outside again, hoping the cool air would clear his head.

The porch was quieter, the muffled bass from the party thumping faintly in the background. Jake blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light, and that’s when he saw you. You were leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling from your fingers as you talked to some guy Jake didn’t recognize. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair was a mess. You’ve pulled it out of your neat ponytail and it was now in a rather messy bun. He’d always known you were pretty, obviously, but this was different. This was—he didn’t know what this was. Hot? Yeah, probably hot. But fuck he hated seeing the cigarette in your hand. His chest tightened, a sharp, uncomfortable feeling tugging at his gut.

Jake walked over, his steps a little unsteady, and plucked the cigarette from your hand without a word. He stubbed it out on the railing and tossed it into an ashtray, ignoring the way you pouted at him.

“That was my last one,” you said, your voice a little slurred.

Good.

“Good,” Jake said, crossing his arms. “Stop poisoning yourself. It’s not cool.”

You pouted harder, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’re such a buzzkill.”

And damn it this was unfair. Criminal, even. He almost felt like giving you another cigarette just so you’d stop making that face, because something about it made him feel ridiculously weak.

The guy, who was leaning against the railing next to you, burst out laughing. He was obviously drunk–or high, or both–and his laughter was loud enough to make you glare at him. “Oh, this is rich,” he said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Y/N just got her cig stolen.”

You kicked him in the shin, hard enough to make him yelp. “Shut up, Yangyang.”

“Ow! What the hell?” Yangyang said, rubbing his leg but still grinning. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you’re an idiot,” you shot back, giving him the finger.

Yangyang just laughed again, shaking his head. “Well, if you can’t smoke, I’m gonna smoke with Hendery.” He turned around, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Hendery! Where are you, man?” Jake was pretty sure that whatever Yangyang was smoking wasn’t a cigarette.

You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath. Then, you turned back to him, your pout returning full force. Oh god, not again.

“That was my last cigarette, you know.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “And?”

“And now I’m sad,” you said, letting your forehead drop onto his shoulder with a dramatic sigh. “You’ve ruined my night.”

Jake laughed, his hand coming up to rest lightly on your back, while the other one gripped the railing tightly. The world was spinning just very lightly, but he didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave this spot. He liked having you this close, even if you’d just smoked and even if he hated the smell of it.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.”

You groaned, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “You don’t understand. That was my emotional support cigarette.”

Jake snorted, his fingers brushing against your hair. “You’ll live.”

You were warm. So warm. He barely registered what he was doing, just that he didn’t want to move.

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him, but there was no real heat behind it. Your eyes were a little hazy. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake said, and this time, he laughed. He couldn’t help it. There was something about the way you pouted that was just… endearing? Or maybe that was the tequila talking. Either way, he was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

Jake’s head was spinning just enough to make everything feel a little surreal, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was imagining the way your eyes seemed a little too bright, your movements a little too slow. Were you high? Maybe. Probably. He didn’t care. Not really. Should he care? He felt like he should care if you were high. He always did back in highschool. He remembered how uncomfortable you looked when Marcus came up to you with his cigarettes or joints or drinks, but you never declined. That asshole.

Then, out of nowhere, he tilted his head back and said, “Have you ever thought about penguins?”

You blinked, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Penguins,” he repeated, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “We should think more about them.”

You stared at him for a second, your brow furrowing like you were trying to figure out if he was serious. Then, without warning, you burst out laughing, leaning into him as your shoulders shook. “Oh my god, Jake. You’re so drunk.”

Jake frowned, his brow furrowing as he tried to focus on you. “No, I’m not. I’m… perfectly fine. If I close one eye, I can see you in HD, so I’m not that drunk.”

That only made you laugh harder, your head resting against his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath. “That doesn’t even make sense!”

“It makes perfect sense,” he insisted, though he was grinning now. “You’re just… too high to understand.”

“I’m high?” you said, sitting up and wiping tears from your eyes. “You’re the one talking about penguins!”

Jake shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Penguins are cool. They’re, like the best birds.”

You snorted, leaning back on your hands. “Okay, Mr. Ornithologist. Tell me more about these superior birds.”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but then he seemed to forget what he was going to say. Instead, he just laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I just really like penguins. Their asses don’t freeze even in snow.”

You giggled again, looking up at the night sky. “Yeah, well, maybe you should adopt one. You’d make a great penguin dad.”

Jake turned to look at you. “You think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said, nodding solemnly. “ You could teach him how to skate and buy him mini gear and shit”

Jake laughed, leaning back on his hands. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, giggling and leaning into him again.

Jake wasn’t sure how long you’d been sitting on the porch steps, your head resting on his shoulder as you both stared up at the stars, talking about everything and nothing. Yangyang came back at one point and now Jake knew you were high, when Yangyang enthusiastically offered you another puff, which you accepted just as enthusiastically. Jake was perfectly content to stay like this forever.

That is, until Heeseung showed up.

“Jesus, what happened here?” Heeseung’s voice cut through the quiet, and Jake looked up to see his roommate standing in the doorway, his girlfriend was peeking out from behind him. Both of them were grinning, though Heeseung looked more exasperated than amused.

“We’re fine,” Jake said, waving a hand dismissively. “Go away.”

“You’re not fine,” Heeseung said, stepping onto the porch. “You’re both drunk off your asses and sitting on the ground like a couple of lost puppies.”

“I’m not drunk,” you said, lifting your head from Jake’s shoulder to glare at Heeseung. “I think I’m high. Jake’s drunk, though. And he wants to adopt a penguin and call it Noot Noot.”

You broke out into giggles, leaning into Jake as if this were the funniest thing you’d ever said. Jake groaned, his cheeks turning pink. “I do not.”

“You do,” you insisted, still laughing. “You said penguins are the best birds and that Noot Noot would be the perfect name. And you want to teach him how to play hockey.”

Heeseungs girlfriend bursted out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my god, that’s adorable.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Yeah, adorable. Come on, you two. Let’s get you home.”

Jake groaned, leaning back on his hands. “We’re fine. Leave us alone.”

“You’re not fine,” Heeseung said, bending down to grab Jake’s arm. “Up. Now.”

Jake tried to swat him away, but Heeseung was too strong, pulling him into a standing position. “Noooo.”, he lamented, “I don’t want to stand up. My legs hurt.”

As Heeseung hauled Jake to his feet, Jake turned to you, his expression suddenly serious. “Wait, Y/N has to come too,” he said, his words slurred but insistent. “She can’t go home alone. She’s... she’s gotta come with us.” You blinked up at him, your own head spinning as you tried to process his words. “I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was just as wobbly as his. “No, you’re not,” Jake said, his hand reaching out to grab yours. “You’re coming with me. Heeseung, tell her.”

Heeseung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. Baby, help me out here.”

His griflriend stepped forward to help you up, her laughter fading into a soft smile. “Come on, Y/N. Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

You pouted but let her pull you to your feet, swaying slightly as you stood. “I’m not drunk,” you insisted, though the way you stumbled over your own feet said otherwise.

“Sure you’re not,” she said, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. “Let’s go.”

Heeseung and his girlfriend managed to get both of you into a cab and back to the dorm. The ride was a blur of laughter and half-hearted protests, and by the time they got there, Jake was pretty sure he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder at least once.

“Alright,” Heeseung said, unlocking the door and ushering everyone inside. “Jake, you’re on the air mattress. Y/N, you get his bed.”

Jake groaned, collapsing onto his bed. “Why do I have to sleep on the floor?”

“Because you’re a gentleman,” Heeseung said, tossing a pillow at him. It hit Jake square in the face, and he let out an indignant huff. “And because I said so.”

You giggled, sitting down on the edge of Jake’s bed. “Thanks, Heeseung. You’re the best.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah.”

His girlfriend handed you a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. “Here. Take these. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You nodded, swallowing the pills with a grimace. “Thank you!”

“No problem,” she said, smiling. “Now, lets get you changed so that you can get some sleep. Both of you.”

She pulled you up again and ushered you into Jakes bathroom while Jake changed into his pyjama and flopped down onto the mattress, closing his eyes and almost falling asleep until you came back and threw yourself onto his bed. It creaked loudly and you giggled.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then, Jake turned his head to look at you. “You good?”

You nodded, your eyes already closing. “Yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, his voice soft. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you murmured, already halfway asleep.

Jake smiled, turning onto his side and closing his eyes. The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of sheets as you shifted on the bed.

Or at least, until you suddenly sat up, your eyes wide. “I don’t wanna sleep. Let’s watch Noot Noot.”

Jake blinked slowly, propping himself up on his elbows. “What?”

“Noot Noot,” you repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, the penguin. The one you want to adopt.”

Jake groaned, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. “Y/N, it’s like 5 a.m.” How could you be so awake? You were drunk and high.

“Exactly,” you said, climbing out of the bed and onto the air mattress next to him. The mattress squeaked under your combined weight, and Jake had to grab the edges to keep from rolling off. “It’s the perfect time for Noot Noot.”

Jake laughed, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”

“Takes one to know one,” you shot back, giggling as you pulled out your phone and started searching for a video.

Jake didn’t even try to argue. Instead, he just leaned back, and you curled against like it was the most normal thing in the as you found the video and hit play. The sound of the penguin’s high-pitched “noot noot” filled the room, and you both burst out laughing.

“See?” you said, your voice full of triumph. “This is amazing.”

Jake couldn’t help but agree, though he wasn’t sure if it was because of the video or because you were lying next to him, wearing his clothes and laughing like that stupid penguin was the funniest thing you have ever seen. Either way, he wasn’t complaining. His eyes slowly drifted shut.

You woke up to the sound of someone groaning softly and an arm slung loosely over your waist. Your head was pounding, your mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Where the hell were you? You blinked blearily at the sunlight streaming through the curtains. You recognized Jakes room and concluded that Jake was the one who woke you up.

Your face heated up. Why were you sleeping on Jake?

Jake stirred beside you, his face scrunching up as he groaned again. “Y/N,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse and urgent. “I gotta… I gotta go. Like, now.”

You barely had time to roll out of the way before he scrambled off the air mattress, nearly tripping over the blanket tangled around his legs. He stumbled toward the bathroom, and you heard the door slam shut, followed by the unmistakable sound of him throwing up.

“Oh, Jake,” you muttered, wincing in sympathy as you dragged yourself off the deflated mattress. You grabbed a bottle of water from the nightstand and shuffled to the bathroom, knocking lightly on the door before pushing it open.

Jake was kneeling in front of the toilet, his forehead resting on his arm. He looked up at you, his face pale and his hair sticking up in every direction. “I’m dying,” he croaked.

“You’re not dying,” you said, crouching down beside him and handing him the water. “Here, rinse your mouth out.”

He took the bottle with a shaky hand, swishing some water around before spitting it into the toilet. You reached over and started rubbing his back, your fingers moving in slow, soothing circles. “You’re such a lightweight,” you teased, though your voice was gentle.

“Shut up,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to it. He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes and taking a few slow breaths. “I am so tired. Why did we think watching Noot Noot at 3 a.m. was a good idea?”

You froze, your hand stilling on his back. “Wait. What?”

Jake cracked one eye open to look at you. “You don’t remember? You literally squeezed yourself onto that stupid air mattress and made me watch, like, ten Noot Noot videos. You said it was ‘essential viewing.’”

“Oh my god,” you said, covering your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, force you or make you uncomfortable or anything.”

Jake laughed weakly, shaking his head. “Relax, Y/N. If I was uncomfortable, I would’ve said something. I just didn’t expect to spend half the night watching a penguin meme.”

You peeked at him through your fingers, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Still. Sorry if I was annoying.”

“You’re always annoying,” he said, but the way he smiled took the sting out of his words. “Now, can we please go back to bed? I feel like death.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, standing up and holding out a hand to help him to his feet. “But I’m not sleeping on that deflated mattress again. I’ll pump some air into it while you finish up here.”

Jake nodded, leaning heavily on you as he stood. “Deal. Just shut up for five minutes, okay?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you left him in the bathroom and went to find the air pump. By the time Jake emerged, looking slightly less green but still miserable, you’d managed to get the mattress back to a somewhat functional state.

“There,” you said, flopping down onto it. “Now you can have your bed, and I’ll take this.”

Jake just nodded and collapsed onto his bed, pulling the blanket over himself with a groan. “You’re a saint,” he mumbled, his voice already muffled by the pillow.

“I know,” you said, grinning as you settled onto the air mattress. The room was quiet again, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioner and Jake’s steady breathing. You closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion pull you back under.

“Y/N this is a stupid idea.”, Jake said, watching the recipe on his phone for what felt like the hundredth time.

“It’s actually a very good idea, Jakeyboy. We are two responsible adults who I am sure can make a lasagne and salad.”, you huffed while cutting up an onion.

Jake raised an eyebrow, and moved next to you, grabbing some of the carrots. “Responsible adults who are cooking for their friends who are actually responsible adults as a thank you?”

“Exactly. I think cooking Hee and Jeonghee lasagne as a thank you for not letting us end in a ditch while we were high and or drunk is a responsible thing to do. Can you also peel the celery? Do we have to peel the celery?”, you stopped cutting the onion and frowned at Jake, holding up a stalk of celery.

Jake shrugged, searching through the drawer for a peeler. “Dude, I have no idea. Why does your recipe want you to put in celery?” He rummaged through the utensils, muttering to himself. “Jay has to have one somewhere here, right? Peelers could be categorized as knives?” If Jake was honest, he rarely cooked—at home or here in his dorm. Ramyeon was easy to make, as was fried rice or a fried egg, but lasagna? He was really unsure if or how he should match your confidence that the two of you could whip up something edible.

You frowned harder and grabbed Jakes phone from next to him. “I have no idea. Maybe i read something wrong? What's your pin?”

“100920.”, he started peeling the thickest carrot lying in the bunch, “Haha look at that. This is surely over average.”

You snorted and hit him lightly on the back. “Man. Jake. What the hell,” you scolded, scrolling through his TikTok chat. “Oh, wait, I think I kinda mixed up two different recipes? This one wants celery, and this one doesn’t. Should we still add it?”

“Yeah? Do you like celery?”, he peered over his shoulder to look at the video you were showing him now.

“I mean, it’s ‘high-protein lasagna’ and not ‘lasagna straight from an Italian restaurant.’ I think we should stick to ‘straight from an Italian restaurant.’ Screw protein. Jay can get pumped when I’m not there,” you shrugged, sliding Jake’s phone into his back pocket.

“Just for your information, I’m also getting pumped. I need the protein too,” he muttered, his tone mock-offended, as he leaned against the counter next to you.

You grinned, nudging his shoulder. “Oh, man. You’ve got a long way to go, Jakeyboy. Jay looks delicious, and you still look like the 16-year-old Lego-building loser you were in high school. Muscle-wise, at least.”

“Hey!” Jake protested, bumping his hip into yours playfully. But then, in a move that surprised even himself, he stepped closer, towering over you slightly as he leaned against the counter, effectively caging you in. He flexed, his biceps straining against the sleeve of his shirt, and shot you a smug look. “Still a loser, huh?”

Your eyes flicked down to his arm, then back up to meet his gaze. You reached out, your fingers trailing along the curve of his muscle, slow and deliberate. “Hmm,” you said, pretending to consider it, but your touch lingered, your nails just barely grazing over his skin. Jake swallowed hard.

“Not bad,” you finally said, lips quirking. “But I’d still appreciate Jay’s more.”

For a split second, something in him stuttered. His breath hitched before he could stop it, his playful smirk faltering as your hand remained on his arm just a second too long. His brain scrambled, short-circuiting between the feeling of your fingers on him and the way your lips formed those words.

He forced himself to roll his eyes, to plaster on some version of nonchalance before his face gave him away. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’re just jealous.”

You stepped a bit closer to him, your chest nearly brushing against his, and poked him right in the middle of his chest. Shooting him a fake pout. “You know, Jake, if you’re trying to impress me, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

Oh. Oh, shit.

His brain blanked for a beat, completely wiped clean.

He could see every tiny detail of your face. The slight overline of your lipstick, the way your lashes curled, the teasing glint in your eyes that made his stomach flip. He could smell the floral tinges of your perfume.

Jake raised an eyebrow, willing his voice to stay steady. “Oh, yeah? What would impress you, then?”

You tilted your head, your expression as innocent as ever: "Hmmm. Maybe if you could actually cook this lasagna without burning it,” you mused, tapping a finger to your chin, “or, I don’t know, if you could actually keep up with Jay at the gym.”

Jake opened his mouth to retort, but before he could say anything, the sound of the front door opening interrupted him.

“Uhh, am I interrupting something?” Jay’s voice came from the doorway, his tone laced with amusement as he took in the scene.

You didn’t miss a beat. “Not at all! It’s actually perfect that you’re here. We were just talking about you.” You turned to Jay with a bright smile, completely unbothered. “Do we put celery in lasagna, yes or no?”

Jake blinked, his face heating up as he took a step back from you. Okay, what the hell just happened? He glanced at Jay, who was now grinning at Jake.

He raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. “Celery in lasagna? That kinda feels like a crime Y/N.”

“That’s what I said!” Jake exclaimed, grateful for the distraction. His heart was still beating way too fast.

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, no celery. Got it.”

After Jay hung up his jacket and washed his hands he dropped on the high stool in front of the counter Jake and you were currently back to cutting up the definitely over average carrot and the onion, bickering over how big the pieces should be. “Is there a reason why you two are trying to set our kitchen on fire?”

“Well until now nothing has been on fire. And we just were in the mood for lasagne.”, you said with a nod.

“For the record, I have been bullied into this and I am innocent.”, Jake said, looking at Jay who gave him a knowing facial expression. Well not really knowing, actually. There was nothing to know. Or at least shouldn’t, right?

You shot him a look, waving the knife in his direction. “Sounds like a you problem, Jakeyboy, now go and try making the sauce.”

Jake groaned but obediently grabbed the pot of tomato sauce you’d set on the stove. He turned the burner on. “How high should this be?”

Jay groaned and stood up, moving towards the two of you. “Oh my god. You are going to burn the kitchen.”

You were sitting in the stands of the ice hockey rink on campus, waiting for Jake to finish his practice for the day. Usually, you would have waited outside, but the weather was atrocious, cold, windy, and raining sideways, so you opted for the lesser evil: the freezing arena.

It wasn’t ideal, but at least you weren’t getting drenched. You curled up on the hard plastic seat, wrapped in Jake's hoodie. He had tossed it your way when you complained about the cold earlier, your suit pants and the t-shirt you were wearing were warm in the lab with your lab coat on top but you were freezing in the rink. You pulled your noise-canceling headphones over your ears and attempted to focus on your notes. You’d been at it for a while now, trying to memorize the damn nerves of the human leg, but you’d officially hit your limit when the Nervus obturatorius made you lose your own damn nerves.

With a frustrated sigh, you gave up, glancing toward the ice.

Your eyes found Jake immediately, not that you were looking for him. He was just easy to spot, standing out among his teammates, moving across the ice with a confidence that was second nature. His strides were powerful, effortless, muscles flexing under all that gear. He didn’t lie when he told you that he was good.

It was weird seeing him like this, so focused. You were so used to the version of him that never took anything seriously, always smirking, always teasing. But here, in his element, he looked different. Determined. Sharp. A little more grown up than the Jake you met years ago. You couldn’t understand how his father could not see how much Jake loved and needed this sport. On the ice he was just ruthless. You definitely weren’t an expert, but after a bit of research you figured out that quite a few players graduated from DA and immediately went into the NHL. You were sure that if Jake tried he would get in. He just needed a small little push to even try.

And then, like he felt you watching, Jake skated past the glass, catching your gaze. And then, the bastard winked at you before turning back to his drill like nothing happened.

You rolled your eyes, but smiled fondly nonetheless.

You saw him all the time now. The weekly cafe dates-not-dates became a thing and then the Wednesday post-practice hangout just happened after he asked you to wait until his practice was over so he could walk you home. And your study dates-not-dates? Well, if you had to suffer, he had to suffer, too. And most of the time they ended with free food for you after wards, so who are you to complain?

And maybe–just maybe–you didn’t mind it. Jake was steadily slipping into the role of your best friend, weaving his way in before you even realized it. Even your friends accepted him when he first barged into one of your study sessions and now he had the pleasure of being your dummy victim for the last month and a half. He didn’t seem to mad about it any you genuinely enjoyed him being around. Sometimes you looked forwards to studying just cause it meant you and Jake went out for dinner afterwards. Like you did with the cafes, you are trying out a new restaurant every week. So far your favourite one was the small Mandu place that was in one of the rather creepy alleyways around your subway station. You had Jake with you, right, your scary kinda buff hockey playing…friend.

Before you could think too hard about that, the practice wrapped up. The guys disappeared into the locker room, and you forced yourself to refocus on your notes, determined to actually learn something before Jake finished showering.

It was quiet for a while, the rink mostly empty, just the occasional distant noise from the locker room. You were so focused, that you didn’t hear him approach.

Until–

“Boo.”

You screamed. Loud.

Your headphones flew off, your tablet nearly tumbled off your lap, and your heart slammed against your ribs.

Jake stood behind you, doubled over, laughter spilling from his lips, hands on his knees as he wheezed. “Oh my God–your face–”

“You asshole!” You smacked his arm, still clutching your chest. “What is wrong with you?!”

He was still grinning, eyes bright with amusement, hair damp from his shower. He was in sweats now, his hockey bag hanging off his shoulder.

“You scare way too easy,” he teased and dropped down on the seat next to you.

“You loomed!”

He snorted. “I stood there.”

“You loomed,” you insisted, glaring at him.

Jake just smirked, then nudged your knee with his. “Are you waiting for me?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, I just love freezing my ass off in an ice rink for fun.”

“Aw, Y/N, you’re so cute,” he teased, reaching out to pat your hair like you were some little kid.

You smacked his hand away with a huff, shoving your iPad into your bag. “Fuck you, Jake.”

He shrugged, standing up and holding out a hand. “Nah, man, I’d rather have someone else do that job.”

Your eyebrows shot up as you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Oh?” You tilted your head, voice dripping with faux curiosity. “Missionary? Or cowboy? Maybe 69?”

Jake snorted, shaking his head. “Reverse missionary. I wanna see the face of whoever has the pleasure of feeling Jake Junior doing his magic.”

You lost it, laughter spilling out of you. “Sure, Jake.”

Still giggling, you started walking toward the exit together.

Jake shot you a side glance, smirk still firmly in place. “Okay, but for real, if I had to pick a second-favorite position–”

You groaned. “Why are we still on this?”

“Because you asked,” he pointed out, completely unbothered.

You gave him an exasperated look but played along. “Fine. What’s Jake Junior’s backup move?”

Jake pursed his lips, pretending to think. “Reverse cowgirl is solid. Great view, minimal effort.”

You snorted. “So, you’re lazy.”

“I prefer efficient,” he corrected, giving you a pointed look.

You hummed as if considering it. “Okay, but wouldn’t that make missionary way too much effort for you?”

Jake gasped dramatically. “Excuse you, I give 110%.”

“Sure you do.”

“You doubt my skills?” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Wow. I thought you believed in me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh yeah, I totally sit around thinking about your sexual performance.” Actually 16 year old you did. Whenever Sophia told you about what they were doing. How good he was. But 21 year old you hasn’t really done so. In quite a while. Maybe you should think about it again.

Jake wiggled his eyebrows. “You should.”

You shoved his shoulder, laughing again.

You reached the heavy entrance door to the rink and when Jake used his shoulder to open it you.

Your hands were still linked. His hand was warm in yours and you could feel the calloused skin on the inside of his palm pressing against yours softly.

Huh.

You should’ve let go.

Neither of you did.

“Yo, lovebirds!”

You looked up to see Jay leaning out of a car in the parking lot, grinning like an idiot.

“Are you getting in or gonna stand there holding hands all night?”

Your stomach dropped.

You let Jake's hand go like it burned, stuffing your own into your hoodie pocket.

Jake looked completely unbothered. He just shoved his hands into his own pockets, glancing at you with an easy smirk. “You jealous, man?”

Jay laughed. “Yeah, bro, I’m really heartbroken over not being the one holding your hand.”

You gasped and clutched your chest dramatically. “Oh my god. Jake! You should have told me you are with Jay! I can’t get in between your homoerotic love-hate relationship!”

You quickened your pace and Jake jogged after you, still chuckling under his breath.

The moment the doors shut, Heeseung turned in his seat, eyebrows raised. “So… when were you guys planning on telling us?”

You blinked. “Telling you what?”

Jay scoffed. “Oh, come on. The looks, the hand-holding, the fact that you guys are basically attached at the hip these days.” He turned back toward the front, muttering, “I still can’t believe I had to witness you flirting in the kitchen while almost burning it down.”

“Hey! It didn’t burn down!”, you protested, not focusing on the flirting part. You still weren’t sure what happened there, but you knew that you definitely liked Jake's reaction.

Jake stretched his legs out, completely relaxed. “You sound jealous, man.”

“Duh,” Jay said immediately. “We’ve been through so much, Jake, and you go and fall in love with someone else? Unreal.”

You choked. “Excuse me?”

Heeseung laughed and reversed out of the parking spot. “Damn. Jake you really haven’t asked her yet?”

You stiffened. “Because there’s nothing to ask.”

Jay turned back around, unimpressed. “Uh-huh. Sure. Y/N, you hang out more with Jake than I do, and I live together with him. I sure know when my homo-erotic lover is about to ask his loser best friend to be his girlfriend.”

Jake let out a low, dramatic sigh, tilting his head back against the seat. “Man. It’s so hard being this wanted.”

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Heeseung laughed. “C’mon, you really expect us to believe you’re not together? Like, at all?”

“Yes!”

“Then what are you?”

Your mouth opened. Then closed.

Jake glanced at you, amused, like he was waiting to see what you’d say.

You inhaled sharply. “We’re just friends.”

Jay hummed. “Friends who go on, what, three dates a week?”

Jake shrugged. “Gotta make time for my favorite person.”

And you said “We aren’t going on dates!”, at the same time.

You snapped your head toward him. “Jake.”

He just smirked and you hit him again.

Jay and Heeseung groaned at the same time. “Oh, my God.”

You groaned back, louder. “Oh, my God, what?”

“Nothing,” Heeseung said, clearly not meaning it. “It’s just exhausting watching you guys be this in denial.”

You crossed your arms, fully exasperated now. “There’s nothing to be in denial about.”

Jay just shook his head. “Right, right. Tell me that again when you’re not literally sitting in his favourite hoodie.”

Your stomach dropped. You glanced down.

…Shit.

You were wearing Jake’s hoodie. That said nothing though. You wore them often. You had the talent to not bring weather appropriate clothing, mostly because your outfits wouldn’t look good if they were weather appropriate. You’d rather freeze than wear a ugly jacket.

Jake grinned, looking way too entertained. “I told you to bring your own.”

You kicked him and leaned forward. “Jongseong Park, are you seriously saying you don’t believe in cross-gender friendships? Psychologically, they’re crucial for emotional intelligence, breaking down gender stereotypes, and even improving romantic relationships. Anthropologically, they’ve played a key role in human survival!” You gesticulated between you and the two of them sitting in the front. ”Men and women have always worked together, forming alliances and strengthening social cohesion. So, like, without cross-gender friendships, we probably wouldn’t even be here. So maybe you should get some female friends first, to improve your social and emotional skills and not judge Jakeyboy and me because we can be friends without fucking each other.”

Heeseung and Jay just stared at you.

Mouths slightly open, eyes blinking slowly, processing the absolute monologue you just hit them with.

Jake, however, just grinned and leaned back in his seat.

“Man,” Heeseung said, finally breaking the silence. “I actually forgot you were smart.”

Jay whistled lowly, shaking his head. “Damn. And she’s hot too. Unbelievable.”

Heeseung turned to Jake, looking him up and down with newfound pity. “Bro. You do not deserve this.”

Jake scoffed. “Excuse me?”

Jay started the motor and shook his head dramatically. "Dude. You’re dating a nerd. I've lost my nerd to another nerd. I knew I was never enough for you."

"I'm not dating her!" Jake protested.

"You wish you were dating her," Heeseung shot back, grinning.

You nodded solemnly. “Jay’s the real loser here.”

Jake groaned. “You guys suck.”

Jay ignored him, shaking his head as if he was still in mourning. “I mean, I thought we had something special, you know? And then he goes and picks her?”

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head as if truly mourning Jay’s heartbreak. Then, with the most sympathetic look you could muster, you placed a hand on his shoulder. You were so glad for this distraction, Jesus. You were really not in the mood to explain to yourself and anyone else what the hell was going on with you and Jake. And why you were just walking hand in hand. Why didn't you let go even when you realized.

“Oh, Jay,” you said, voice laced with faux pity. “I am so sorry you fell for him. I can assure you that he has not been cheating on you with me. I have way to high morals for that.”

Jay let out a deep, shaky breath, nodding solemnly. “It’s… it’s been really hard.”

Heeseung placed a comforting hand on his other shoulder. “Stay strong, man.”

Jay sniffled dramatically. “I mean, I thought we had something special, you know?” He gestured vaguely toward Jake, looking absolutely betrayed. “

Jake rolled his eyes. “You guys are so stupid.”

“Stupidly heartbroken,” Jay corrected, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

You hummed in agreement, tilting your head. “It must be painful, to think you lost your one true love to a woman who looks at dead bodies all day.”

“Exactly!” Jay threw his hands up in exasperation. “Like, what do I have to do? I’m young, I’m attractive, I come from money–”

“Yeah, but you don’t have weird hobbies,” you pointed out with mock seriousness. “That’s clearly where you went wrong.”

Jake scoffed. “Oh, so my hobbies are weird?”

“You monologue about black holes for fun, bro,” Heeseung said.

Jake scowled. "First of all, wormholes are a fascinating theoretical concept—"

"God, there he goes again," Jay fake-gagged, making you burst out laughing.

You liked Jakes ‘weird’ hobbies. You didn’t particularly enjoy physics but if he could listen to you ramble about bone fracturing you could listen to his rambling about wormholes. It was really cute actually.

"You guys just don’t appreciate science," Jake huffed, crossing his arms.

"Not true," Heeseung said. "I appreciate science when it’s not being explained to me at 2 a.m. because some idiot suddenly had an existential crisis about black holes swallowing the Earth."

Heeseung leaned back in his seat, nodding in your direction. “See? This is what you could have, if you want to steal Jay's boyfriend.”

You just smirked, crossing your arms. “Well, Jay, if it makes you feel better, I would be treating him well. You know, take him out, hold his hand, maybe even listen to his little physics rants. Then he can home to you and treat you like the king you are and satisfy all your needs. I just learned that his preferred position is missionary.”

Jay gasped. “You’re gonna let him nerd out?”

Jake glared at you. “Don’t call it nerding out.”

“I am in love with a nerd,” Jay muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Oh, Jay," you clutched your chest like you were heartbroken for him. "I am so sorry. Falling for a loser like Jake must be so hard."

Jay nodded solemnly. "It is. The worst pain I’ve ever known."

Jake groaned. "You both suck."

"You love us," Heeseung and Jay said in unison.

Jake just slumped in his seat, muttering under his breath while you all laughed.

Almost two hours later you were laying on Jake's sofa bickering over what movie you wanted to watch today. You were scrolling through Disney plus while he was on the toilet when you saw two very familiar faces.

“Continue watching?”, you muttered and clicked on the picture just as Jake came back from the bathroom. “You started watching Bones?”

Jake, dropped down on the sofa next to you, lounging with his socked feet propped up on the coffee table. “You said it’s the reason why you are the person you are now.” he said, stretching lazily. “Figured I’d see what the hype was about.”

Your mouth opened, then closed. You weren’t sure what stunned you more—the fact that he actually gave the show a chance or the fact that you felt weirdly… touched by it.

“And?” You folded your arms, giving him a pointed look.

He sighed dramatically. “It’s annoyingly good.”

A triumphant grin stretched across your face. “I knew it! I told you, you would like it!”

“Please just tell me they get together.”, he said resting one of his arms on the armrest behind you.

You pressed your lips onto each other and shook your head: “I will not spoil anything. You gotta watch Jakeyboy.”

Jake scoffed, reaching for the remote. “Booth and Brennan are the most stubborn people on Earth. They’re practically begging to make their lives harder. They should just fuck.”

You just laughed.“I will say nothing. How much did you watch?”

He shrugged and pressed start on start. “Five seasons.”

Your jaw dropped. “Jake!”

“What?” He shrugged, grinning at your shock. “I got hooked.”

“You are insane.”, you shook your head. “Where did you find the time to watch five season in like seven weeks?”

“I mean I watched other stuff as well. But I tend to watch it whenever I am not eating anything? I don't really want to eat and look at a rotting corpse? I am normal compared to you.”, he shrugged and grabbed the blanket that was laying next to him, draping it on top of his and your legs.

“Hey!”, you protested.

Jake was heading out of the business building, stretching his arms above his head as he stepped into the crisp afternoon air. The sun was out, and it instantly put him in a better mood. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that you had texted him earlier, asking if he wanted to go for coffee at your café—the one where you’d had your first date-not-date. He didn’t even have to think twice before saying yes.

You loved the sun, but between your major and the sheer number of hours you spent buried in your studies, you rarely got to enjoy it. So whenever the weather was decent, you made it a mission to drag him or one of your friends outside with you. He thought it was kind of endearing.

He was checking his phone, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he read your text you sent him during class when he suddenly heard his name being called: “Jake!”

His head snapped up at the familiar voice. A man in a sharp suit strode toward him, laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

“Uncle Jungjae?” Jake barely had time to register what was happening before he was pulled into a firm hug. “What are you doing here?”

His uncle patted his back before stepping away, smiling knowingly. “Nice to see you too, son.” Then he lifted his laptop bag slightly. “I was invited to give a lecture on venture investing. Thought I might catch you while I was here. So surprise!”

Jake blinked. “Well, you got me.”

“Of course I did,” Jungjae chuckled, throwing an arm around Jake’s shoulders as they started walking toward the campus entrance. “So, tell me, how’s school? Hockey? Life? Your father mentioned you have some exciting news.” His eyes glinted with curiosity.

Jake stiffened slightly. Of course, his dad sent his uncle to poke around.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “Everything’s good. School’s school, hockey’s hockey. Same old.”

“And your girlfriend?” His uncle’s smirk was all-knowing. “Your father was very surprised when you told him you were bringing someone to the wedding. Or, well that you had a girlfriend at all.”

Jake forced a tight-lipped smile, heart sinking. Damn it.

“Ah, yeah. Y/N,” he said, feeling oddly hot under the collar. “We, uh, we’ve been together for a while now.”

Jungjae raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’ve been very secretive about it.”

Jake swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “I just… didn’t think it was a big deal. And, you know, my personal life isn’t exactly dinner conversation with my dad.”

His uncle hummed. “Well, I’d love to meet her. Without your dad present. He is going to intimidate that poor girl to no end.”

Jake had always been fond of his father’s younger brother. Unlike most of his family, his uncle was consistently supportive, kind, and easy to be around. He himself didn’t have any children but it was clear he was his favorite child in the family.

Jake opened his mouth to stall when, as if on cue, he spotted you approaching from across the courtyard.

His stomach dropped. Shit.

You were walking toward him, unplugging your headphones, wearing one of his jackets you stole over one of the summer dresses he knew you loved. You really looked cute in it. Younger, not as sharp as you usually did.

Thinking fast, he plastered on a smile and waved you over. “Y/N! Baby!”

Your brows knitted together for the briefest moment before your eyes flicked toward his uncle. Jake barely tilted his head in his direction and widened his, just enough for you to catch on.

A second later, you nodded slightly, your expression smoothing into something effortlessly sweet as you closed the distance between you two.

“Hi, Jakey.”

If Jake wasn’t currently fighting the urge to die inside, he might have cringed at how effortlessly you played the part. Instead, he just wrapped an arm around your waist, hoping his uncle didn’t notice how stiff he was.

His uncle looked very amused.

“Well, well,” he mused, shaking his head. “Now I see why your father was so shocked.”

Jake forced a grin. “Yeah, uh–Uncle Jungjae, this is Y/N.” He gestured between the two of you. “Y/N, my uncle.”

You turned to his uncle with a polite smile, offering your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Jake’s told me a lot about you.”

Jungjae shook your hand, his grip firm. “And yet, this is my first time hearing about you.”

You laughed lightly. “Well, Jake’s a man of mystery, I suppose.”

Jake nearly choked. Mystery? He was the least mysterious person on the planet.

His uncle gave a thoughtful nod. “That he is.” His expression softened, though, as he studied Jake. “It’s good to see you finally settling down.”

Jake exhaled, squeezing your waist in what he hoped looked like an affectionate gesture.

You handled the whole situation flawlessly. “Of course,” you said, bumping Jake’s side. “I had to whip him into shape.”

Jungjae laughed, patting Jake’s back. “I like her.”

Jake swallowed thickly, forcing another grin. “Yeah, me too.”

And maybe, just for a second, it wasn’t entirely a lie.

His uncle glanced between the two of you as if analyzing something before he started walking toward the exit of the courtyard. “I was just heading to my car. Walk with me?”

Jake hesitated, but you were already nodding. “Of course,” you said, looping your arm through his.

And just like that, you were walking beside him, your fingers trailing down his wrist before casually slipping into his hand.

Jake froze for half a second before forcing himself to relax.

It wasn’t weird. You’d held hands before. But something about the way you did it so naturally made his chest feel a little too tight. He squeezed your hand lightly, trying to focus on the conversation.

“So,” his uncle said as they walked. “Tell me, Y/N–how did you two meet?”

You barely missed a beat. “Through mutual friends.”

“And how long has it been?” Jungjae asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jake panicked for half a second before you replied smoothly, “A few months now.”

Thank god you could actually act your part out better than him. He was sure his uncle would see through every lie he would try to tell him.

The older man hummed. “Interesting. Your father made it sound like it was much newer than that.”

You let out a breathy laugh, looking at Jake with almost sparkling eyes. He has never seen this facial expression on your face but he didn’t want you to stop looking at him. “Well, when he told his dad we just put a label on our relationship but we have been going on dates since around the end of last year.”

His uncle gave a slow nod. “I suppose that makes sense.” Then, after a beat, he added, “You’re studying forensic anthropology, right?”

You perked up immediately. “Yes! Jake mentioned that?”

“He did,” Jungjae said, glancing at his nephew, knowing very well that Jake never said anything about that. It must have been his father. “And he said you were very passionate about it.”

Jake found himself relaxing more and more as you started talking about your studies. You were always so excited about what you did, and it was hard not to get caught up in your energy. He loved listening to you rambling about your cases or whatever you thought was interesting. Huh, maybe his friends were right. You were a nerd.

Even his uncle seemed to enjoy the conversation, nodding along and asking more questions. By the time you reached the parking lot, Jake had almost forgotten that this wasn’t real.

Jungjae stopped by his car and turned to the two of you with a warm smile. “I’m glad I got to meet you, Y/N. I can see why Jake’s so taken with you.”

Jake stiffened. Oh shit.

But you just smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. “It was really nice meeting you too, sir.”

Jungjae patted Jake’s shoulder. “We’ll talk soon, alright?”

Jake nodded, swallowing. “Yeah, of course.”

His uncle got into his car, and as soon as he was out of sight, Jake let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

You turned to him with a smirk. “Well, baby, that was fun.”

Jake groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I hate this.”

“No, you don’t.” You nudged him playfully. “Come on, fake boyfriend. You still owe me coffee.”

Jake shook his head but let you pull him along.

He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or deeply concerned that lying to his uncle felt so easy at the end.

You were listening to Kazuha excitedly talk about wanting to ride the biggest rollercoaster when a familiar voice called out.

“Yo, Y/N!”

Turning toward the voice, you spotted Jake, Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon and their respective girlfriends walking towards your group. The moment Jays girlfriend saw you, she brightened. “Oh! Sakura, K! I didn’t know you guys were coming too!”

You met Jay's girlfriend briefly when you were having one of your movie evenings and she was very sweet to you.

Sakura beamed, immediately hugging her. “We just got here not long ago!”

Meanwhile, K stepped forward, bumping fists with both Jay and Heeseung. “Been a while,” he said, grinning.

Jay smirked. “Dude, it’s been, like, two weeks.”

“Which is a while,” K shot back.

The group easily fell into conversation, exchanging hugs and greetings. Heeseung’s girlfriend was talking to Yunjin about a new book, while Sunghoon and Jake were talking to K, giggling like three small girls.

You shook your head with a small smile.

At one point Jake slowed down his pace and walked next to you and Chaewon, just listening to the two of you talking about a class she already passed and you were currently suffering through.

It wasn’t long before the others started eyeing the biggest, fastest ride in the park.

“You’re coming, right?” Kazuha asked you.

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah… no.”

Jake scoffed from beside you. “Same.”

Sunghoon frowned. “Dude, you’re seriously not coming? Again?”

“You know I don’t do rides,” Jake said, crossing his arms. “It’s not my fault my body refuses to cooperate.”

“Oh my god, you get motion sickness,” you realized, looking up at him.

Jake groaned. “Don’t say it out loud.”

You laughed.

The rest decided to go and lined up in the queue without you, leaving the two of you alone.

Jake slung an arm around your shoulder, watching your friends queuing up. “Guess you’re stuck with me for the night.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, what a tragedy.”

The two of you decided to walk around the carnival on your own, not wanting to be bored by waiting for your friends when the operator told you they would have to wait at least twenty minutes.

Jake walked beside you, his arm still around your shoulder when he suddenly stopped in front of a game stand. “Oh my god look at those plushies. They look like a cheap badly made mini version of Layla. I am going to win one!”

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the game. It was one of those classic carnival scams–the one where you had to knock over a pyramid of weighted milk bottles with a baseball.

“Oh, are you?” you teased, crossing your arms, leaning onto the booth next to him. “Because I don’t know, Jakeyboy, this looks kinda hard.”

He scoffed, rolling his shoulders like an athlete about to enter a championship game. “Have a little faith in me.” He winked for dramatic effect before turning to the booth worker. “Three tries.”

The first ball bounced off the bottles without even toppling one.

You barely stifled a laugh as Jake straightened his stance. “That was a warm-up.”

The second throw knocked over a single bottle.

Jake cursed under his breath. You bit your lip, watching his jaw clench in frustration.

By the third attempt, you were almost hoping he’d miss just to keep teasing him. But with sheer determination and possibly some anger, he threw the last ball with a little too much force, sending the bottles scattering.

“Yes!” Jake pumped his fist in the air before turning to you with the cockiest grin. The booth worker asked him what plushy he wanted and he enthusiastically asked for the beige dog.

He handed Jake the little dog plushy and he handed it to you. “Here. A token of my victory.”

You took it, grinning up at him. “Aw thank you Jakey. Are you sure you want to give me fake Layla?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, take her.”

With your new plushy secured in one arm, you let Jake guide you toward the food stands, where the smell of fried dough was practically calling your name. Within minutes, the two of you were sharing a funnel cake, tearing off pieces as you strolled through the festival.

At some point, Jake paused, squinting at you.

“What?” you asked, mid-bite.

He smirked. “You’ve got sugar on your face.”

Before you could wipe it away, he reached out, brushing his thumb against the corner of your lips.

You froze.

It was such a simple action, something so natural, and yet your brain short-circuited for a second too long.

Jake, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed. “There. All good.”

You blinked at him. “You could’ve just told me.”

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” he teased, popping a bit of sugar-covered dough into his mouth like nothing happened.

You exhaled, shaking your head with a laugh as you kept walking, pretending your heart wasn’t suddenly hammering in your chest.

When you and Jake made it back to the ride, the others were mid-flight, getting tossed around like rag dolls. You both stood at the base, watching as Kazuha’s scream pierced through the air, while Jay, next to her, looked like he was regretting every life choice that had led him there. The ride finally came to a halt and your friends stumbled out, looking various levels of disheveled. Sakura’s hair was windswept, K was holding onto her for balance, and Heeseung’s face had gone a little pale.

Chaewon spotted you immediately, her eyes zeroing in on the plush dog. “Well, well, what do we have here?” She smirked, poking the dog’s nose. “Did Jakeyboy win you a prize?”

You held the dog protectively to your chest, shooting her a mock glare. “Don’t insult our child.”

Chaewon burst out laughing, clutching her stomach. “Your child? Hey guys, look! Y/N and Jake had a baby!”

Sunghoon grinned. “Wow, congrats on the new addition!”

Kazuha smirked, leaning over to get a better look at the plushy. “What’s its name?”

You rolled your eyes, playing along. “Sir Fluffington the Third.”

Jake snorted, nodding seriously. “Yeah, it was a tough labor, but we pulled through.”

The whole group erupted into laughter, and even though your cheeks were burning, you couldn’t help but laugh along.

As the teasing about "Sir Fluffington the Third" died down, Chaewon suddenly grabbed your arm and tugged you a few steps away from the group.

“So.”, she said and hooked her arm into yours. “You and Jake, huh?”

You furrowed your brows. “What about me and Jake?”

“What do you mean what about the two of you.?” Chaewon swung your connected arms slightly as the two of you walked. “You two have been getting pretty close lately.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“Mm-hmm.” She hummed, clearly unconvinced. “That’s why he won Mr. Fluffington the third just now. Because you are just friends.”

You scoffed. “I think I’d know if there was something more than friendship going on between the two of us.”

Chaewon stopped in her tracks, turning to face you with an amused expression. “Would you, though? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like everyone else already knows except you.”

Her words made you pause. You and Jake had become pretty comfortable with each other. And you really enjoyed spending time with him. But that didn’t mean– Did it?

Chaewon grinned at your silence. “See? Told you.”

“Even if there was something between us, there is no chance that his dad would let him date me.” You swallowed hard, forcing a shrug. “Their relationship is… strained, and it makes things complicated. It’s not as simple as just asking each other out.”

Chaewon’s face softened. “Oh.” She paused. “I didn’t know. I am sorry Y/N.”

You nodded, relieved she accepted that answer without pushing for more.

Chaewon nudged you lightly. “So, what? You guys are just dancing around each other, until his daddy gives you the yes?”

You let out a short laugh. “No. There is really nothing between Jake and me. We are just friends. I would have told you if it was more.”

Oh if she only knew.

Your group had unanimously decided that the Ferris wheel would be the last ride of the evening. It was almost midnight, and most of the festival-goers had already trickled out, leaving behind clusters of drunk students squeezing in one last round of fun.

You stood at the back of the line, chatting absentmindedly with Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon as the line moved forward. You were just about to follow Jay into the gondola he and Sunghoon were sitting down in when the ride operator suddenly stopped you and Jake.

“Sorry, you’ll have to take the next one,” the worker said, lowering his hand before either of you could step into the gondola.

Jay shot Jake a look so obvious you almost groaned out loud.

He didn’t even need to say anything. You knew what was happening here.

With an exhausted sigh, you took a step back, standing beside Jake. The doors locked with a metallic clink, and you watched as it slowly ascended, leaving the two of you stranded on the platform.

The silence stretched between you until the next gondola arrived.

As the Ferris wheel lurched back into motion, you slid into the seat across from Jake, stretching your legs out slightly. Jake, however, rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, before blurting out, “So… Jay wants me to ask you if you wanna be my girlfriend. Like, right here. Right now.”

You let out an exaggerated groan, throwing your head back. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. We would have absolutely fit into their gondola. Man, your friends are so noisy, Jake, it's unbelievable.”

Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “You mean they orchestrated this?”

“A hundred percent.” You shot him an exasperated look. “Chaewon also pulled me aside earlier, asking me what we have going on.’”

Jake snorted, shaking his head. “So, let’s do it then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shrugged, switching seats so that he was next to you instead of across. The shift made the gondola sway slightly, and suddenly, the space between you felt a lot smaller. “Let’s just tell them I asked you. That I had this whole speech about how my dad doesn’t matter and how I love you and shit. I mean we at least know now that we do look realistic.” His voice was casual, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes as he leaned back against the seat, turning his gaze to the lights below.

You let out a dry laugh. “Oh, of course. And then I started crying and dramatically said yes?”

“I mean, you could cry. Would add to the believability.”

You huffed out a laugh, nudging his leg with yours. “Pretty sure I wouldn't cry over that, Jakeyboy.”

He smirked, but before he could respond, he jolted his chin toward something outside the window. You followed his gaze and, sure enough, saw Jay and Sunghoon’s gondola creeping up alongside yours at just the right angle to peer into yours.

“They’re watching,” Jake muttered.

A wicked idea bloomed in your mind. You turned back to him, voice laced with mischief. “Should we give them a show then?”

Jake blinked. “What do you mean?”

You tilted your head slightly, observing the way the carnival lights flickered in his dark eyes. He looked—annoyingly good, if you were being honest. Soft strands of hair fell over his forehead, and the warm glow of the Ferris wheel cast a golden hue over his features.

“Let’s kiss, Jake. If you were to really confess we would definitely kiss.”

The words left your lips before you could think twice about them.

Jake visibly swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes flickered from yours to your lips, then back up. “You think this is a situation that requires it?” His voice was quieter now, a little breathless.

Your heart gave an unexpected lurch.

“This is a situation that demands it.” you corrected, ignoring the way your pulse thrummed in your ears.

You didn’t give yourself time to hesitate. You scooted closer, closing the space between you, and slowly lifted your hand to his cheek. You half-expected him to pull back, to laugh it off and tell you to stop being ridiculous. But instead Jake moved. He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you, and his hand lifted – hesitant at first – before settling against your jaw, his thumb brushing featherlight against your cheek. The warmth of his palm sent a strange shiver down your spine, rooting you in place as his lips met yours.

It was supposed to be just a kiss. Nothing more.

But the second his lips moved against yours, something in you faltered.

You had forgotten what kissing felt like. Or maybe, you had just forgotten what it felt like to kiss someone like this. Maybe you just also never have been kissed like this.

Jake’s lips were warm, softer than you expected, pressing against yours with a kind of cautious certainty. His fingers curled slightly where they rested against your face, his touch sending a slow, unfamiliar heat creeping up your neck.

You didn’t even realize you had leaned into him until the gondola creaked slightly, shifting under the movement. Your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of his jacket, pulling ever so slightly.

And for a fleeting moment, the world outside the small metal cabin disappeared.

No carnival. No friends watching from another gondola. Just the feeling of his mouth slanting over yours, his thumb tracing absentminded circles into your cheek.

Your lips still tingled when you pulled back. Your breath came just a little too fast.

Jake swallowed, his hand slipping from your face as if he had just realized where it had been. His eyes flickered across your face, lingering for a second too long on your lips before he cleared his throat.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The distant sound of the carnival buzzed around you, and the Ferris wheel continued its slow rotation.

You swallowed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Jake couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Yeah, it’s definitely... uh, not something I thought I’d be doing today.”

Your brain still felt scrambled.

“So was that a yes to my proposal to be my fake girlfriend until the wedding?”, Jake nudged your shoulder.

You rolled your eyes and hit him with Sir Fluffingtin the Third. “Go fuck yourself Sim.”

He shook his head and said with a serious expression. “Y/N, we already had that conversation. I need another person for missionary!”

You snorted and hit him again. “You are such a looser, Jakeyboy. But yeah if we can convince the others that we are unbelievably in love with each other until the wedding in two weeks then your dad should believe us as well, right?”

“I hope so.”, his gaze flickered back to Jake and Sunghoons gondola.

When your gondola finally came to a halt, you took the chance to breathe, pushing the strange tension aside as you stepped out. The second your feet hit the ground, you felt like you had just snapped back to reality. Jake was right behind you, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as you rejoined your friends.

Jay and Sunghoon were waiting and from the way their eyes flicked between you and Jake, they were definitely hoping for a post-ride recap.

You shot them a tight-lipped smile—the universal signal for don’t ask—before slipping away to where Kazuha and Yunjin were waiting.

The moment they stepped through the front door, Jake barely had time to kick off his shoes before Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon practically ambushed him “Alright,” Jay started, crossing his arms. “Talk.” “What?” Jake scoffed, trying to walk past them, but Heeseung blocked his path. “You know what,” Sunghoon drawled, leaning against the wall with an all-too-knowing smirk. “We saw you.” Jake’s stomach dropped. “Saw what?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “Dude, the kiss.” Jake opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again. His brain was still partly fired. Jay clapped a hand on Jake’s shoulder, grinning. “So? You finally asked her out?” Jake exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He knew this was coming. He prepared for this. But still, something about the way they were all looking at him made him… hesitate. “Yeah,” he said finally, keeping his voice even. “I did.”

Sunghoon let out a sharp whistle. “About damn time." Jake forced a chuckle, even as something inside him twisted uncomfortably. “Yeah, yeah.” Heeseung nudged him. “So what did she say?” “She said yes.” The words felt strange on his tongue. Like a half-truth. Because technically you did say yes—just not in the way they all thought.

Jay grinned, shaking his head. “Man, I knew it. I knew she’d say yes.” Jake stiffened. “What?” “Come on,” Jay scoffed. “It’s so obvious. This girl looks at you with hearts in her eyes. The way the two act around each other is almost disgusting, Jakeyboy.” Jake swallowed and Jay narrowed his eyes. “Alright, walk us through it. What did you say?”

Jake exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean… what do people usually say? I told her I liked her, and that I wanted us to be together.” It wasn’t technically a lie. It just wasn’t the whole truth. Heeseung hummed, clearly unsatisfied. “And what did she say?” Jake shrugged, trying to play it off. “She said yes." Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? Just ‘yes’?”

Jake scoffed. “What, you want a full transcript?”

Jay grinned. “Yes, actually.”

Jake groaned, pushing past them to collapse onto the couch, but they all followed.

“Okay, fine.” He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers. “She said she already knew you guys were orchestrating the whole thing and that it was really obvious.”

Jay smirked proudly. “You’re welcome.”

Jake rolled his eyes but continued. “And then I said something about how my dad doesn’t matter, and how I like her and all that.”

Sunghoon squinted. “Do you like her?”

Jake blinked. “I mean, yeah? I wouldn’t be dating her if I didn’t.”

That seemed to satisfy them for a second, but then Jay continued.

“And the kiss?”

Jake stiffened, suddenly hyperaware of the phantom feeling of your lips still lingering on his.

“What about it?”

Jay scoffed. “Dude, come on. How did it feel?”

Jake hesitated, searching for the right words, but the only thing that came out was, “…Good?”

Sunghoon snorted. “That’s it? Just ‘good’?”

Jake groaned, running a hand down his face. “What do you want me to say? It was nice, okay?”

Later that night, Jake lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts an absolute mess. What the actual fuck was happening? How did you agreeing to be his fake date for your exes weeding escalate into him being your “officially” your boyfriend in front of all your friends. Now, he had to keep up the act every time someone was around. Jake exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. He was completely and utterly fucked. Because now he knew how your lips felt against his, how they tasted faintly like the sweet funnel cake and cigarettes, how your fingers skimmed over his skin so lightly it sent a shiver down his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stop replaying it over and over again. It wasn’t supposed to feel like that. It wasn’t supposed to leave him breathless, heart racing, craving more even after you had pulled away. This was supposed to be fake.

It was supposed to be just for show, something to sell the act. But the second you had gotten close, the moment your fingers ghosted over his cheek, he had completely forgotten about the act. He had forgotten everything except how warm your lips were against his, how effortlessly you fit against him, how badly he wanted to pull you even closer. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Jake turned onto his side, gripping his pillow like it would somehow help him make sense of this. Pretending for a weekend? Doable. Pretending in front of your friends? A little more complicated, but still manageable. But pretending to himself? That was a whole different problem. So why the hell did it feel so real?

Not even 24 hours later the reason why everything had to at least look real called him. Jake was toweling off his hair when his phone rang. He sighed and stared at the screen for a second before answering. “Jake.” His father’s voice was clipped, businesslike. “I’ve been looking into this Y/N girl.” Jake’s stomach dropped. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, you have.” “I have to say, I’m not convinced she’s a good fit for you. Jake clenched his jaw. “And what exactly does that mean?” “She doesn’t… carry herself the way I expected,” his father continued. “Her parents might be working as doctors but she-” He exhaled sharply, like the conversation itself was tedious. “She is not exactly what people will expect from you.” Jake’s grip tightened around the phone. God forbid he date someone who doesn’t look like she walked out of a country club. “Not everything is about appearances,” Jake muttered, rolling his eyes so hard he was surprised he didn’t get a HD view of his brain. “I don’t know if this is the right choice for you.”

Jake gritted his teeth. “It’s not a choice. “Isn’t it? Do you think she is a good fit for you?” Jake’s stomach twisted. What the hell does that mean? He wanted to ask, but he already knew he wouldn’t get an answer. His father was careful with his words, always just vague enough to sound concerned rather than cruel. But Jake knew what he meant. She’s not good enough. Jake’s fingers dug into the fabric of the towel. His father continued. “You’ll be bringing her to a wedding where people will talk, Jake. You need to think about what that means. For you. For us.” Jake squeezed his eyes shut. This was exactly why he even considered the whole fake dating thing in the first place. To get his father off his damn back. But instead, he was just under even more scrutiny. Jake’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He wanted to tell his father to shut up, to fuck off, but instead, the words that came out were:

“I love her.” Silence. Jake could hear his own breathing, too loud in his ears. Where the hell did that come from?

His chest felt tight, his own words echoing in his head. But the moment they left his mouth, he knew. He knew. He wasn’t lying. He wasn’t saying it just to shut his father up. He wanted to mean it. His father finally spoke, voice unreadable. “Do you?” Jake swallowed. Yeah. Yeah, he did. It was terrifying. It was also the easiest truth he’d ever admitted. “Yeah,” he said, voice hoarse. Another pause. Then— “I hope, for your sake, that’s true.” And then the line went dead.

Jake stared at the screen, still gripping his phone, heart pounding in his ears. He had just told his father–of all people–that he loved you. And the worst part? He wanted to tell you too.

It had been almost 2 AM when your phone buzzed next to you, pulling you out of a deep sleep. Groggy, you reached over, squinting at the screen. Jake’s name flashed in the dim light. You rubbed your eyes and blinked, half-asleep.

Jakeyboy Are you awake?

You smiled a little, even though you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to be awake right now.

You Yes, now i am. What's up?

A beat passed, then another text came through almost immediately.

Jakeyboy Do you wanna get ice cream? At the GS25 in front of the campus

You frowned, pulling yourself out of bed. You glanced at the clock. 1:47 AM – well, there was no way you were going back to sleep now. You threw on a hoodie, grabbed your phone, and slid your feet into a random pair pajama pants. Your hair was still braided, messy from the day, but you didn’t care. The GS25 was halfway between your dorm and his, and when you got there, you spotted him sitting on the curb already. He looked up when you approached, his eyes lighting up just a little bit. A small smile curled onto his lips. “You look cute,” Jake said, his gaze scanning over you with an easy affection. Your heart fluttered, but then you looked down at your pajamas and felt a little self-conscious. You couldn't help it. “Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward about your unkempt appearance. Jake noticed the shift in your mood right away. “Hey, don’t do that. You really do look cute. I mean it.”

You tried to brush it off, offering him a small smile. “I’m just wearing pajamas.” “Well, pajamas look good on you,” he said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You felt a little warmer at that. You both went inside and bought ice cream, then sat outside in front of the store. The cool air stung your skin, but it felt good, somehow. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable, though the silence between you felt oddly thick tonight. Finally, Jake broke it. “My dad called,” he said suddenly, his voice a little tight. You pulled your head away slightly, looking at him, concerned. “What did he want?”

Jake didn’t meet your eyes, and you could see the way his jaw tightened. “He basically told me that he thinks you aren’t a good match for me.” He waved vaguely, his voice was tight, like he was swallowing frustration. “He was like ‘I expect the best out of her’. He expects you to be perfect, so that for the media we can play the picture perfect couple and family and shit. I hate it so much Y/N." Your heart sank. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t right, that he didn’t deserve that kind of pressure. But you didn’t know how to begin. Jake let out a bitter laugh. “Honestly, I don’t care. I’m just so tired of hearing it. I don’t want to be what he wants. I want to do what I want.” It wasn’t fair, what his dad was putting him through. It wasn’t fair to expect Jake to conform to someone else’s vision of what his life should look like. Your voice was softer than you wanted it to be. “Jake, I—" He cut you off before you could finish. “I’m just saying, it’s not like this is all pretend. I mean... I really like you. You are one of my closest friends right now. You know that, right? And I don’t want him to actually hurt you when you meet at the wedding. He is going to be an asshole to you.” 'One of my closest friends' Somehow that stung a bit but you couldn’t help but feel touched by how much Jake seemed to care about protecting you, even in this mess of a situation. But the more you thought about it, the more confused you got. Him saying you were a friend coudln't sting. It shouldn't.

"I get it." you said after a moment, trying to sound lighthearted. “It’s all good. You don’t have to worry about it. I am a big girl, Jake. If he talks shit to me i will politely talk shit back at him." Jake didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he dropped the subject. You both sat in the silence for a while, eating your ice cream. “Jake…” you started, biting your lip. “What was your childhood like? You don’t have to tell me, but… I guess I never really asked and you tend to not talk about it.” Jake was quiet for a long time. So long that you almost regretted asking. Then, finally, he spoke. “I spent most of my time with my uncle,” he said quietly, his gaze distant. “He was the only one who actually cared about what I wanted. I think… I think he’s the reason I still have a little faith in family. He’s the reason I got into hockey and he convinced my Mom to convince my dad. He was always supportive. My mom is too, but sometimes I feel like her focus is more on Joshua than on me.” You could feel your heart ache at the vulnerability in his words, and you nodded slowly. “That’s really nice. I’m glad you had him. He seemed nice.” Jake smiled faintly. “Yeah. I love him a lot.” He paused, eyes drifting to the side for a moment. “I had a good childhood, overall. Just... complicated sometimes. But, I guess that’s kind of everyone’s story, right?”

You hesitated again, your fingers gently touching the edge of his hand. “Yeah,” you said, your voice quieter. “I think everyone’s got their own stuff they’re working through." Jake was silent again. You got up and tossed your trash into a bin nearby, giving him a moment to just think. When you sat down he put his head onto your shoulder. It had to be uncomfortable for him but he carefully took one of your hands, playing with your fingers. He almost startled you when he started talking again. “I never loved Sophia.”

You stilled. “I thought I did, at the time. Or well I wanted to.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “But looking back… I never felt all that shit people talk about. The butterflies, the excitement, the–whatever it is that makes people fall in love.” You didn’t say anything. You just let him talk. “I started dating her because I knew my dad would like it,” he admitted, his voice laced with something bitter. “And she liked the attention. We looked good together, so it just… made sense. My friends teased me about it, and I thought, ‘Maybe this isn’t stupid.’ Maybe it would shut my dad up for a second.” Jake exhaled, staring down at your hands and softly closed his fingers around yours. “But it was never real. Not for either of us. She liked the image. I liked the approval.” He let out a dry laugh. “She was still my first everything, though. First kiss, first… all of it.” He swallowed. “And then she cheated. With her best friend’s boyfriend.” Your heart clenched. You weren't sure what hurt you more back then. Sophia or Maruc's betrail. “You told me when you found out.” His voice was quiet now, distant. “And when I confronted her, she wasn’t even really guilty. She just… looked at me and said, ‘You knew this wasn’t real, Jake. We both did. And you know the worst part?” He lifted his head rom your shoulder and finally met your gaze. “My dad blamed me. He said it was my fault she strayed. That if I’d been a better boyfriend, if I had been more–” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. You’d known his dad was awful, but this–this was worse than you expected. It was cruel. It was disgusting. Jake had been a kid, figuring things out, and his father had just used it as another way to tear him down. Another way to remind him he’d never be enough. “That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice thick. You felt an ache in your throat, something dangerously close to anger. “That’s not fair to you at all.” Jake blinked, like he wasn’t used to hearing those words, and his brow furrowed in confusion, as if he didn’t understand why you were so upset for him. You tightened your grip. “You didn’t deserve that, Jake.” God, he really hadn’t. He was kind, funny, a little cocky but never mean. And he had spent his whole life trying to meet impossible expectations that only left him feeling like he was failing.

It was quiet for a long moment before you spoke again. "When I found out that they were sleeping with each other I felt my world collapse. Suddenly nothing made sense anymore. Marcus was my first too, in everything.", you focused your gaze on your intertwined fingers, softly squeezing his hand. "Sophia was what I thought was my best friend. I told her everything and I followed both of them like a little duckling." You chuckled bitterly. "I was so swooned by their world. Being rich and influential. Going to all these cool events. I didn't even realize that I hated every second of it. I did so many...things with Marcus that I am not proud of. Most of the stuff I really didn't want to do but I was young, stupid and I think I was in love. Those stupid butterflies betrayed me. I should have never been excited for anything I did with that asshat, but I was and in the end I was the one heartbroken."

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head again. "So I don't really think you missed out on much. At least you didn't get your herat broken in millions of pieces. " As as soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Jake’s face soften in a way that made your chest tighten. His eyes were fixed on you. He shifted slightly, leaning closer, and his voice was lower, gentler. “Wait... Y/N, what... what kind of things?” There was a pause, and you could hear the worry in his voice. “What did he make you do?” You blinked at him, caught off guard by the tenderness in his question. You didn’t want to get into all of it – not with him, not now. You really wanted to leave the past in the past. So gave him a small, reassuring smile, though it was laced with a hint of sarcasm. “Nothing too crazy, Jake. Just... stupid stuff that I let myself be talked into because I thought I had to, you know? Smoking, drinking, sex when I didn’t even want to.” You shrugged, trying to keep the conversation light despite how heavy it really felt and focused your gaze on the streetlamp on the opposite side of the street. “Just... young, dumb, and in love.” "You didn’t deserve any of that," Jake murmured, his voice tight. His hand, still gently holding yours, gave you a small squeeze. “You deserve someone who sees you as more than a way to impress their friends or boost their image.” You wanted to say something lighthearted, to push this conversation into a safer territory, but for once, you didn’t have it in you. You just nodded, your fingers tightening slightly around his.

“I’m sorry,” he added quietly, almost to himself, as if he was blaming himself for not being there for you sooner. You felt your heart soften at his words, and you smiled faintly, squeezing his hand back. "Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, Jake." You paused for a moment, then added with a light chuckle, “Besides, I'm not a delicate little thing. I’m fine." Jake sighed, his hand resting on his lap now, still close to yours. “I just... I hate that you went through all that. You didn’t deserve any of it. You deserve better.” His voice softened and you could feel those traitors in your stomach. Those stupid little butterflies whose only goal was to make you unhappy. "It's fine. Really. I didn't tell you this to make you worry about me. I just wanted to show you that you haven't missed out by not feeling all the things people feel when they are in love. Most of the time those nice feelings disappear and not so nice ones take their place. You were spared by not being in love with Sophia.", you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder again. Trying to ignore your butterflies and all those things people feel when they were in love. You couldn't fall for Jake. You never wanted to feel the pain you felt when you saw Marcus and Sophia in his bed and everything that came after ever again.

The bar the team was celebrating their win in was busy, but not unbearably so. It wasn’t loud enough to be overwhelming, but still just enough to make your head ache slightly. You sat next to Jake in your usual spot, both of you nursing beers, though neither of you were drinking fast enough to actually feel it. His arm rested lazily around your shoulders, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against your sweater. You leaned into his side, letting his warmth seep into you, but it didn’t do much to shake the heaviness pressing down on you. Your mind kept drifting back to earlier in the day. You had been fine during the lab, steady hands and a clear mind as you did what had to be done. It was routine, nothing you hadn’t done before. Usually, you could detach. Today, you couldn’t. You and four other students were working on the body with respect and professionality. But as you peeled back the skin and bone, carefully exposing the delicate folds of the young boys brain, you felt nauseous.

Jake shifted beside you. “You good?” he asked, his voice low enough that only you could hear over the bar noise. You exhaled through your nose, nodding automatically. “Yeah. Don’t worry about it.” Jake studied your face for a second longer. You gave him a weak smile and his fingers pausing against your shoulder. He squeezed your arm gently before taking another sip of his drink.

You were half heartedly listening and laughing along to what Beomgyu was telling Jake but your thoughts were still elsewhere. You knew the profession you chose was gruesome. Your parents had tried to prepare you for it, making you sit through forensic classes, pushing you to talk to actual forensic anthropologists, hoping you’d reconsider. But you were stubborn. You applied to every university that offered a forensic anthropology major, determined to prove that this was what you wanted. And it was. You loved it. All of it. Well, almost all of it. Because sometimes, especially when you were handling kids, or what was left of them, you were forced to remember exactly what you were doing. Those young boys and girls, long gone, their skin cold, the smell of formaldehyde replacing what should’ve been Axe body spray or cheap drugstore perfume. Faces stripped of emotion, of laughter, of life. They had futures, or at least, they should have. They should have had years ahead of them, chances to grow up, to fall in love, to make mistakes. But instead, a single accident, an illness, or worse, a person had taken that from them.

It made you appreciate your own life more. Made you hyper-aware of how fragile it all was. And yet, what were you doing with that awareness? You were fake dating someone. To appease his father.

In some way, weren’t you just wasting his time? Wasting your own? Time that could be spent with someone who would actually be there in the long run. Someone to grow old with. To adopt a real Sir Fluffington the Third, to plan holidays, to talk about kids, to buy a home together. Someone to come home to. Someone to share the weight of days like this. Your brain, unprompted and entirely unhelpful, supplied you with a picture. Jake. Or rather, an older version of him. The thought startled you, so sudden and so vivid that you nearly flinched.

Jake?

Why was it Jake?

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, watching as he laughed at whatever Beomgyu had just said. He wasn’t yours. He wasn’t meant to be yours. And yet, your brain had conjured up a version of him standing in a kitchen with you, handing you a mug of coffee in the morning, smiling at you like you were his favorite thing in the world. You shook the thought off. It didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. You suddenly felt a bit like you were suffocating, the warmth of the bar, the buzz of conversation, even the way Jake was still absentmindedly playing with the hem of your sleeve. “I’m gonna go for a smoke,” you murmured, barely loud enough for Jake to hear over the bar’s noise.

Jake glanced down at you immediately. “Want me to come with you?” You shook your head. “No, it’s fine.” His brows pulled together, just for a second, before smoothing out again. And because, apparently, this was a thing you did now, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. You weren’t sure when it had started, exactly. In the week since the kiss until now you and Jake really leaned into the whole couply stuff, being a bit more touchy with each other. He was always touching you in some way, his arm around your waist, his hand on your lower back, his fingers brushing against yours absentmindedly. It was all too easy to let yourself get used to it.

Maybe it was necessary, given that in just two weeks, you’d be standing beside him at that god forsaken wedding, playing the part of a couple who couldn’t keep their hands off each other. To get his father off his case and to give a huge fuck you to your exes. You really hated his father. That man didn’t deserve Jake's respect and you have told Jake as much. since that one conversion at the GS25 you never missed any of his games. You send him stupid memes or small messages to motivate him to win, to show him you were there to support him. And it worked until now. Not a single game lost. You’ve bought him so much food and pastries as congratulation gifts that you were glad he did as much sport as he did. Else he would probably be a bit round.

But right now, you needed some distance. You needed air. And you needed a cigarette. Jake hated to see you smoking. So before he could change his mind and follow, before you could second-guess yourself, you turned and slipped outside. The night air was crisp, cutting through the warmth that still clung to your skin from inside the bar. You tilted your head back, staring at the sky, letting your eyes trace the constellations.

Life was so fucking fragile. You had known that for a long time, logically, clinically. It was something you studied, something you understood down to the very bones of it. But today, it felt different. Today, you peeled back a boy’s forehead, carefully extracted the thing that made him who he was, and for the first time in a long time, it had rattled you. It made you want to scream. Because it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that someone so small, so young, could just be… gone. Reduced to an object on a table. A case file. A lesson. Your fingers twitched as you pulled a cigarette from your pocket, lighting it with practiced ease. The first inhale burned. It didn’t fix anything, didn’t quiet the thoughts clawing at your mind, but for a fleeting moment, it gave you something to focus on. The nicotine settled in your system, a dull sort of relief, just enough to take the edge off.

You needed to quit. You knew that. You had been saying it for years, but every time you thought about stopping, you hesitated. The craving wasn’t even the worst part. It was the way the cigarette felt like a pause button, a moment of stillness in the middle of everything. It was a shitty habit, and Jake hated it. He made that clear every time he caught you. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl toward the stars.

“You know he hates it when you do that.” The voice startled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to see Jay stepping outside, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Your heart was still beating a little too fast from the surprise, but you scoffed, bringing the cigarette back to your lips. “You gonna give me shit about it too?” Jay shrugged, finally turning his gaze to you. “Nah. Just an observation.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Yeah, well. He’ll live.” Jay hummed, stepping closer. He leaned against the wall beside you, his eyes searching your face. “You’re quiet today.” You hesitated. The cigarette burned between your fingers, the nicotine was already settling into your bloodstream. You forced a small smile, tilting your head slightly as you took another drag. “Just tired,” you said. “Long day.” You flicked the ash onto the pavement, watching it disappear into the cracks.

Jay didn’t look convinced. His eyes lingered on your face, searching, and for a second, you thought he might call you out on the obvious deflection. It was annoying how good he was at reading people. At reading you. “Y/N-” “I’m fine, Jay,” you interrupted gently, offering him a softer smile this time. “Really.” He didn’t move, didn’t say anything right away. Over the last two months you had gotten close to Jay, through all the hours spent at the rink, at team dinners, at their dorm, at bars just like this one. And somewhere along the way, between all the forced proximity and the nights spent orbiting the same friend group, you and Jay had grown close too. Not in the same way you were with Jake, but close enough that he could read you just as well. Maybe even better.

That was the problem. Jay studied you, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. “Did you tell Jake?” You exhaled, watching the smoke curl upward, disappearing into the night. “No,” you admitted, flicking ash onto the pavement. Jay made a sound, something between disbelief and exasperation. “Dude.” You sighed, bracing yourself. “I don’t want to worry him." Jay let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “That’s not how this works, Y/N.”

You glanced at him, catching the way his brows had pulled together, the tension in his jaw. He wasn’t angry, Jay never really got angry, but he was frustrated. You’ve spent almost a whole night talking to him, when the two of you decided to stay sober and watch over your friends. You told him there that you really hated doing that. Worrying people with your problems. Life was too short to worry, especially over problems that aren’t your own. “I’m fine,” you said, lighter this time, as if saying it enough would make it true. Jay’s gaze didn’t waver. “You don’t have to do that, you know.” “Do what?” “Pretend,” he said simply. “Not with me. Not with him. Especially not with Jake.” Something in your chest tightened, the words settling uncomfortably in your stomach. You swallowed, looking away. If Jay only knew. “It’s not a big deal.” Jay sighed again, lingering for another second like he wanted to say something else. But then he just shook his head and pushed off the wall. “Try not to take the whole pack down with you,” he muttered as he turned toward the door. You let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “No promises.”

And then he was gone, the bar swallowing him whole. You stood there for another moment, the weight of his words pressing heavy against your ribs. And then, before you could stop yourself, you reached for another cigarette.

Jake was half-listening to Beomgyu and Soobin talking about a recent Eagles game when Jay slid back into their booth, leaning in close. “You need to talk to Y/N,” Jay murmured, voice low. “Something’s off with her. She wouldn’t tell me what’s up, so maybe you can use your boyfriend privileges to get her to talk?” Jake furrowed his brow, staring at Jay for a beat. He had noticed it too, how quiet you have been all night, how you lingered closer to him than usual. But he also knew you. He knew you hated worrying people with your problems. If he asked outright, you’d probably brush it off. You’d talk when you were ready. You always did. He figured something must have happened in the lab. Some cases were harder to stomach than others, and sometimes, the weight of what you learned stuck with you for a while. When that happened, you liked to process it alone.

But despite whatever was on your mind you still showed up for him. You always did. You had come to every home game for the past few weeks, watching from the stands like his own personal lucky charm. Jake hadn’t played a single bad game since you started watching. “I know,” he murmured, voice quieter than intended. “She’ll come to me if she wants to.” Jay didn’t say anything more. He just gave Jake a look that said he was doubting that and switched topic. A few minutes later, Jake flinched when cold fingers brushed against his arm. He turned quickly, half-hoping, half-knowing it was you. It was. You squeezed yourself back into the booth beside him, settling into your usual spot. Instinctively, his gaze swept over you.

You looked tired.

He felt bad that you were here. He knew Fridays were busy days for you. And yet, you still made time to come to his games and stick around for the post-game hangouts. The fact that you showed up, no matter how exhausted you were, meant more to him than he could put into words. When your eyes met his, something flickered across your face—an emotion he couldn’t quite place. “You good?” His voice came out softer than he meant, but it was the only thing he could think to say. You held his gaze for a second before offering a small, fleeting smile. “Yeah,” you murmured. “All good.”

Jake didn’t believe that for a second. But he didn’t push. Instead, he pulled you closer, tucking you against his side. His arm curled around your waist, holding you a little tighter than necessary. As Beomgyu and Jay started talking about an upcoming swim competition, Jake found his focus drifting. You shifted slightly in his hold, resting your head against his chest, and his thumb absently traced small patterns against your side. He took a slow breath and immediately scrunched his nose. The sharp scent of secondhand smoke clung to your hair.

He leaned forward slightly, lips almost brushing the shell of your ear. “You smell like smoke.” You sighed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. There was something unreadable in your expression. Jake held your stare, his fingers tightening just slightly at your waist, trying to get you to stay here with him, to relax–even if just a little. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I was outside.”

Jake hummed, debating whether or not to scold you. He knew smoking wasn’t an everyday habit for you, but you tended to smoke whenever you were stressed or something was troubling you. He didn’t want to lecture you. Not right now. But then, before he could stop himself, his lips parted. “You should quit,” he said quietly. You looked away. “I know,” you muttered, voice distant again. Jake exhaled softly, letting the moment settle. He wanted to say something else, to get you to open up, to tell him what was wrong, but before he could, Jay’s voice cut through the conversation again.

The night carried on, the noise of the bar a comfortable hum in the background, but Jake barely heard it. His focus had narrowed down to the warmth of you against his side, the way your body naturally leaned into his like it belonged there. Jay was saying something–laughing about something–but Jake wasn’t really listening. His attention flickered to you every few seconds, studying the way your fingers idly traced the rim of your glass, how you bit down on the inside of your cheek when you were lost in thought. Then the song changed. Finesse by Bruno Mars blasted through the speakers. The second the first beat hit, Jake felt his stomach twist. A chorus of cheers and drunken excitement filled the bar immediately, a wave of energy that swept through the room. It was a tradition, one that had been in place long before Jake joined the DA hockey team. Every time Finesse played, all the hockey players were expected to kiss their lovers. People made their way through the bar, searching for their partners.

"Fellas, grab your ladies if your lady fine." Jake’s grip tightened on your waist ever so slightly. It would probably look weird if he didn't kiss his girlfriend. He hesitated for only a second before he leaned in, letting his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “It’d be weird if I didn’t, right?” You barely had time to react before he leaned in, slow and careful, like he was giving you a chance to stop him. But you didn’t. And something in him faltered at the absence of any hesitation on your part.

His nose grazed against yours for a brief moment before his lips met yours. Soft and deliberate. It was gentle at first, almost as if he asked for permission again, and when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it slightly. His body responded without thought, the tequila on his tongue mixing with the faint taste of your cigarette from earlier. His hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, feeling the soft pulse there.

You shivered, and fuck. That reaction alone had something deep in him stirring. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy this as much as he did. And yet, the second you melted into him, Jake felt something he’d never felt before. His stomach flipped, his chest felt too tight, and for the first time in his life, he understood what people meant when they said a kiss could leave you breathless.

When his hand traced down the curve of your spine, when his fingertips barely skimmed your skin through your thin shirt and you shuddered beneath his touch, he felt a rush of something hot and heady curl low in his stomach. So he did it again. Slower this time. Letting his fingers linger, tracing back up, taking his time. Another shiver. Another sharp inhale. Jake felt a stupid, giddy grin threaten to break through. Butterflies. He actually felt fucking butterflies. Every little thing he did, every touch, every movement–he could feel it in the way your body leaned into his, how your breath stuttered against his lips.

He was fascinated. Completely and utterly hooked on the way he could pull those reactions from you with barely any effort. That realization alone made something snap inside him. He slid his hand back up your spine, fingers pressing into the nape of your neck, and the way you shuddered again had his breath catching in his throat. You melted into him, and it felt too easy. Too good.

God, he was an idiot. Jake pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. He could feel your breath against his lips. “Please stop smoking. It’ll kill you.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he immediately regretted saying it. The seriousness in his voice didn’t feel right for the moment, but he couldn't help himself. He hated that you smoked. You looked up at him, and for a brief second, he thought he saw something shift in your eyes, something that made his chest tighten. His hand, still on your waist, slowly lifted, and he gave you space to push him away. But you didn’t. Your gaze met his, and he found himself unable to look away.

Shit, this was all kinds of messed up. Jake’s heart raced. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore, but he knew that in this moment, with your eyes locked on his, he didn’t care. He just wanted to be close to you, to feel the warmth of you, to drown out everything else in the world. Slowly, he lifted his hand again, this time cupping your jaw with his palm, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His breath was shallow, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips.

His fingers curled at the nape of your neck, thumb grazing the edge of your jaw. He didn’t think. He just acted, pulling you into another kiss. He had kissed plenty of people before, but never once had it felt like this. Never once had it knocked the breath straight from his lungs, left his brain foggy and his chest aching with something unnameable. The kiss was slower. More deliberate. He kissed you like he wanted to learn you, like he wanted to savor every second, every movement of your lips against his. He deepened it just slightly, exhaling softly as he swallowed the small noise you made.

You didn’t move away, didn’t push him off. Instead, you kissed him back just as slowly, just as deliberately. His thumb brushed your cheek again, slower this time, like he couldn’t help himself. And he really, really couldn’t. Your lips parted slightly, just enough for him to taste more of you, and fuck, he was done for. His chest felt too light, his stomach too full of something fluttery and warm. It was embarrassing, really. He was an athlete, a grown-ass man, and yet here he was, feeling like some love-struck kid who just got his first real kiss. He could’ve kept going. He wanted to keep going. His forehead rested against yours as he exhaled, trying to steady himself, trying to pull himself out of whatever the hell this was becoming.

Jake barely noticed Beomgyu approaching, barely heard whatever the hell his teammate was saying, because he was too busy trying to make sense of what just happened. Then, like nothing had happened, he was forced to turn away, to let go, to pretend. But even as the bar filled with noise again, even as he forced a grin and let himself fall back into easy conversation with Jay, the feeling of your lips still lingered against his. And worse? The breathless, giddy feeling still hadn’t left. And he knew, without a doubt, that he was in deep, deep trouble.

Your apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside and the occasional creak of the building. Your bed was cramped, barely big enough for the two of you, but that was the least of your concerns. The heat from Jake’s body pressed against your back, his arms around you pulling you into his warmth, but you couldn’t seem to shake the cold feeling that had settled deep in your chest. You had thought that after a long walk, after getting tucked into bed, maybe you’d be able to sleep. But sleep wasn’t coming tonight. Your thoughts circled around that damn brain, the weight of it, the fragility of life, the way it had been so small and delicate in your gloved hands. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. Kids weren’t supposed to die, to be handled like... like pieces of evidence. But that was what he had become.

This brain. The boy was someone. A person. Someone's son, someone's brother, someone's friend. He had been alive. He had thought and laughed and felt and dreamed, and now... nothing. Jake shifted behind you, his breath warm on the back of your neck as he adjusted his position. His breathing had steadied out a while ago and you assumed he fell asleep. But his arm tightened around you, pulling you just a little close. "Hey," he murmured, his voice low and thick with sleep. "You okay?" You didn’t answer right away, pretending to be asleep. You couldn’t. You could barely hold back the tears that threatened to spill when you were on your own, but voicing out what was on your mind to Jake would surely open up the floodgates you called eyes. He was here so you wouldn’t do that, not to trigger you into doing so.

"Y/N," Jake said again, this time his voice was more awake, more alert. His hand slid up your arm, his fingers tracing the curve of your shoulder. "Talk to me." You sniffed once and blinked away a few tears. When Jake heard the noise he lifted himself onto his arm to look at you. You rolled onto your back, the tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the ceiling, unable to look at him. "I—" You swallowed, trying to keep it together, but your voice cracked. "I held his brain, Jake." You could barely say it out loud without choking on it. "His... brain. Like, the thing that makes him a person. The thing that... made him alive." You let out a shaky breath. "I can’t stop thinking about it. That’s all I’ve been thinking about. That... he was just a kid. And now he’s gone." Jake was quiet for a moment. But then his hand moved again, his fingers threading through your hair gently, and his breath was steady against your face as he leaned in close.

"I don’t know how you do what you do," Jake said softly, his voice low but filled with a quiet admiration that took you by surprise. "But I know it’s not easy. And you don’t have to carry all that by yourself, Y/N." "How am I supposed to do this?" you whispered, voice barely above a breath. "How do people deal with this? When you see something like that and you just feel so helpless?" You sniffed again and wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt. “He was killed by multiple kicks to the brain. Who could do that to a child, Jake?” Jake paused, his hand now resting on your side. His thumb brushed against your ribcage in slow, comforting strokes. He didn’t have an answer right away, and you didn’t expect one. But after a moment, he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "I don’t know," he admitted, and there was something so raw, so honest about the way he said it that it almost made you break right then and there. "I wish I did. I wish I could tell you that there’s a reason why those people do what they do, but… I can’t. I don’t think there is." His fingers curled slightly against your side.

"But I know you," he continued, his voice steady. "And I know that if there’s anyone who can handle this, it’s you. And I know that doesn’t make it easier, but it makes it matter. You’re helping people. You’re making sure those kids get their justice." You let out a shaky breath, your eyes finally drifting to his. They were soft in the dim light, dark with something unreadable. You searched his face, taking in the way his brow was drawn slightly, the way his lips were parted. "I don’t feel strong right now," you whispered. Jake’s lips twitched, just barely. "That’s usually when you are." For a while, neither of you spoke. You just breathed, just laid there, his fingers still tracing absent patterns along your ribs, his body still warm against yours. He was right. It wouldn’t get easier but at least you could find answers for the families in mourning and justice for the victims.

"Thanks," you murmured. Jake shifted closer, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him again. "Anytime," he whispered, his voice full of warmth. Eventually, your eyes grew heavy, exhaustion creeping in despite the thoughts still spinning in your mind. Jake must have noticed, because his hand moved again, brushing a strand of hair from your face before settling back against your waist. "Get some sleep," he murmured. "I’m right here."

Jake didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. He’d woken up in your bed that morning, your back pressed against his chest, your breathing slow and steady as you slept. He should’ve rolled away, should’ve put some space between you, but he didn’t. Instead, he’d let himself stay there for just a little longer, his arm still draped over your waist, his fingers twitching where they rested against your stomach. And that was the first red flag. Because this – whatever this was – was supposed to be fake. It was supposed to be a means to an end, a temporary fix for a problem that had nothing to do with the two of you actually being together. But that didn’t explain the way he’d felt when you asked him to stay over last night. Didn’t explain the way something in his chest had clenched when he saw those tears you tried to hide.

It sure as hell didn’t explain the way he’d kissed you yesterday. How the taste of your lips was so addictive, it was the only thing he could think about all evening. He hated the tinge of the leftover nicotine on your lips but he loved how you reciprocate his kiss, letting him deepen the kiss. The combination of tequila and cigarettes being almost as addictive as the funnel cake and cigarettes was a few weeks ago. The second red flag was that he didn't want to let you go. Maybe he was being a little overbearing, but he didn’t care. You complained the whole way to his physio appointment, groaning about how you had actual work to do and how you had no interest in watching him get his shoulder prodded and stretched, but he ignored you. He just grabbed your hand and tugged you along, keeping a firm grip to make sure you didn’t slip away.

And honestly? He was glad he did. Because the second his physiotherapist started explaining something about muscle recovery, you perked up. You went from grumbling under your breath to engaging in an actual conversation about anatomical shit that went completely over his head. Something about tendons and ligaments and how the body compensated for injuries—he wasn’t sure. But you were smiling, and you were talking like you actually enjoyed yourself. Jake sat there, half in pain, half in awe, watching you chat with his therapist while he was forced through another round of exercises. “You’re way too enthusiastic about this,” he muttered between clenched teeth as he pushed through another painful stretch.

You just grinned, arms crossed as you leaned against the wall. “I just think it’s fascinating.” Jake shot you a glare that didn’t hold much weight, but deep down, he was relieved. He didn’t know if you were actually feeling better or just putting on a good front, but at least you weren’t curled up in bed, lost in your own head. That was a win. After physio, he didn’t give you a chance to slip away. He dragged you to lunch, steering you toward a small, homey restaurant owned by a sweet old woman who always snuck him extra food. “You literally didn’t have to make me come here,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him as you picked at your plate. “Didn’t I, though?” he shot back, stuffing a dumpling into his mouth. You rolled your eyes but kept eating, and Jake counted that as another win.

By the time you both made it to his dorm, you were still insisting that you needed to study. He glanced at you from where you sat at the other end of his couch, your laptop balanced on your lap as you tried to study. "You’re staring.", your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, realizing that, yeah, he had been staring at you. Your eyes didn’t leave your screen, but he could see the ghost of a smirk playing at your lips. "You look like you're about to pass out from boredom," you added. Jake huffed, leaning over to shut your laptop. "Not bored. Just done watching you pretend to study." You glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. "Some of us have degrees to earn, Jakeyboy."

"Some of us also need to take a break before they burn out," he countered. You rolled your eyes but didn’t fight him when he tugged the laptop out of your grasp and set it on the coffee table. Instead, you shifted, pulling your legs up onto the couch and reaching for the blanket draped over the back. Jake barely hesitated before shifting, too, letting you settle against his side as he grabbed his phone again. And that was the third red flag. Because he wasn’t thinking about how fake this was supposed to be. He wasn’t thinking about how this wasn’t part of the plan. He was thinking about how easy it was to be with you like this, how natural it felt to have you curled up against him, warm and soft and real.

Jake swallowed hard, his grip tightening slightly around his phone as he forced his attention back to the screen. He scrolled aimlessly through TikTok, but it didn’t matter what he was looking at. "You're quiet," you murmured, and he turned to see you watching him, brows drawn slightly. Jake forced a smirk. "Enjoying the peace while it lasts." You rolled your eyes, nudging his leg with your foot, but he didn’t miss the way your expression softened after a second. "You don’t have to babysit me, you know." He frowned. "I’m not–"

"You totally are," you interrupted, your voice light but pointed. "I’m fine, Jake. Really. This happens once in a while. You know I do work with some sad stuff." Jake studied you for a moment, and maybe you thought that would be enough to convince him, but it wasn’t. He could still hear your voice from last night, the way it cracked when you told him about that kid. He didn’t say anything, just shifted his arm so it was draped more securely around you, pulling you in just a little closer. And you let him. And that was the biggest red flag of all.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty CONTINUE ON READING --⟢ PART 2 all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox @bluxjun @sumzysworld @outroherrr @50-husbands

ᝰ an. part two is in the works and will be coming soon! I hope you all are excited for some heavy angst and fluff nonetheless! I also hope that I didn't make any mistakes when I copy pasted the fic in here because I had to literally go scene by scene and edit every text block :,( ₊ ⊹

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just-nc-tea · 2 months ago

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the truth untold pt. 2 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

READ PART ONE HERE --⟢ PART 1

⭑.ᐟ Fake Dating - Sim Jaeyun Falling for Jake was never part of the plan. The wedding was supposed to be the end, but somewhere between your getting-to-know-each-other-to-seem-convincing-dates and the fake dating in front of your friends, this all stopped feeling like an act. But loving him means stepping into a world where you don’t belong, risking heartbreak at the hands of another rich boy . So you make the only choice you can. Even if it feels so wrong.

ᝰ genre. Hockeyplayer! Jake, college sports , a LOT of angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, suggestive, fake dating, miscommunication.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of weed, alcohol and nicotine, suggestive language & actions( I tried writing smut and I was unsuccessful) , shitty exes, strained family relations, mention of death, desciption of murder (Y/N is a anthropology student and works with dead bodies, but it's nothing detailed) , they are also kinda dumb and should just speak to each other PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 35.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ GET ADDED MY TAGLIST HERE ⁀➴༯ OR COMMENT 🏒 ᝰ an. part two is in here and the story is done!! Thank you for all the feedbak on pt. 1! This is my baby and I hope you all love it just as much and give it just as much love! In theory I think you could even read this as a stand alone if you’re not up to read pt.1?! ₊ ⊹

A few days later, you and Jake stood in Incheon Airport, weaving through the crowds toward your gate while sharing a roll of gimbap you bought from GS25 after security. Well, technically, he bought it. You were just stealing it.

Jake had known you would be hungry. You had spent the entire day in class, rushed straight to the subway to meet him at his dorm and barely had time to breathe before heading to the airport. He asked if you wanted anything before the flight, but you waved him off, saying you weren’t hungry. He didn’t believe you for a second. So he bought two rolls. Just in case. Now, as you strolled beside him, you had successfully stolen one piece, then another, then almost half of his first roll. He narrowed his eyes at you, holding the last piece protectively between his fingers.

“You said you weren’t hungry,” he accused, pulling the gimbap just out of your reach. “I’m not,” you replied, very much reaching for it. Jake scoffed. “Then what the hell have you been doing for the last five minutes?” You grinned, still making a grab for the food. “Making sure you don’t eat too much before the flight.” “Oh, how generous,” he said dryly, shoving the last piece into his mouth before you could steal it. He smirked when you let out an annoyed huff, chewing with satisfaction. “You’re lucky I bought two.” Your eyes lit up instantly, and you stretched your hand out expectantly.

Jake gave you a blank stare. “What?” “The other roll,” you said, wiggling your fingers. He snorted. “Oh, this one?” He pulled it from his bag, shaking it slightly in your direction before tucking it right back inside. “I thought you weren’t hungry?” “Jake,” you said, tone dropping into something serious. “Give me the gimbap.” “Or what?” he teased, holding the plastic container closer to his chest.

“Or I’ll make sure to tell Jay we did actually light the kitchen on fire.” Jake let out an actual laugh. “That’s the threat you’re going with? You think he’ll believe that?” “Oh, I’ll really sell it,” you continued, smirking. “You know I am good actress, baby.” You blinked up at him. Jake felt heat creep up his neck and immediately shoved the second roll into your hands. “Take it.” You grinned in victory, opening the package and popping a piece into your mouth. “See? I knew you’d come around.” Jake shook his head but didn’t argue. You were impossible. And yet, somehow, he didn’t mind.

Jake had expected to dread stepping onto the plane more than he actually did. The night before, he had talked to his dad. An exhausting conversation where he’d reassured him, yet again, that he was coming home for the wedding. That yes, you were still coming too. His dad had barely reacted, just humming in acknowledgment before launching into a lecture about who Jake needed to speak with at the reception. It has been three months since he blurted your name to his dad, three months since he roped you into this fake relationship just because he didn’t want to face his father alone. He still wasn’t sure if it was the worst decision he had ever made or the smartest. At least there were some things to look forward to. He was going to see his uncle and aunt again, catch up with a few old friends, and most importantly, spend the week with his dog and you, if you let him. He glanced down at you, nestled against his shoulder, your face relaxed in sleep.

For someone who spent their days surrounded by death, handling bones and studying the remnants of people who would never breathe again, you looked peaceful. Jake hated that your job required you to witness the absolute worst parts of life. Hated the fact that just days ago, he had held you while you cried over a boy who would never grow up. Hated that you wanted to carry all of it alone. Hated that you disliked telling him, or anyone, what's worrying you. No matter how often he told you that he would worry more if you don’t. He sighed, letting his head rest back against the seat, his fingers absently tracing the edge of the blanket draped over both of you.

After this week, it would all be over. The fake dating, the stolen moments, the way you fit so easily into his life. Three months of inside jokes, of late-night texts, of you showing up at his games. Three months of watching Bones together, of him getting too invested in a show he only started because he wanted to understand why you loved it so much. He hated that thought as well. Maybe you would be okay with just being friends again after this whole thing ended. He could live with that. He had to live with that. Losing you entirely wasn’t an option he wanted to consider. The idea of going back to the way things were before, before the jokes, before the late-night talks, before he knew what it felt like to have you pressed into his side felt impossible.

He could do friends. He was hoping you could too. But first, you had to survive this week. Jake knew his father wouldn’t make it easy. He already felt sorry for whatever was about to happen, for the things his dad would say. If it were up to him, he wouldn’t even be going. He would have skipped this wedding, avoided the whole damn thing. You stirred a little. When he looked down again, he found himself softening at the way your fingers had curled into the fabric of his hoodie. Jake carefully adjusted the blanket draped over you both. The cabin was cool, and the last thing he wanted was for you to wake up shivering. Finally satisfied, he shifted slightly in his seat, resting his head gently against yours.

For a moment, he just stayed there, listening to the quiet hum of the plane, feeling the steady rise and fall of your breathing. He should also try to sleep, but all he could think about was how easy this felt. How natural the two of you fell into this rhythm of going on ‘platonic’ dates to get to know each other, how your friends thought you were a couple, how this didn’t feel fake for him. It somehow never did. And he was pretty sure you felt the same. When the flight attendant stopped by your seats, her voice was soft, polite, trying not to disturb the peaceful quiet of the first-class cabin. God bless his uncle for upgrading the two of you, claiming that he just wanted to spoil his favourite nephew and his girlfriend. Jake and you ran into your uncle a few other times on campus where you impressed his uncle so much he actually told Jake to be careful to not lose you, since he really liked you. Which didn’t make him feel particularly better about his own situation but pride swelled up in his chest when he heard his uncle say that. "Would you like anything to drink?" Jake glanced down at you, still tucked against his side, warm and soft and barely awake. He nudged you lightly. "Hey, do you want anything?"

You made a small noise in response, barely lifting your head, eyes still heavy with sleep. "No," you mumbled, voice quiet and pouty, before burrowing yourself further into his chest. Jake froze for a second, his breath catching in his throat. His arms tightened around you instinctively. God, you were so cute when you were sleepy. He had only seen you like this maybe three times before but he wished he had seen it more. You were always so sharp, so quick-witted, always moving, always thinking. But here, now, with your face pressed against his chest, your breathing slow and even, you looked peaceful and relaxed His heart ached in a way he didn’t know how to describe.

He swallowed, blinking at the flight attendant, who was watching with a little smile, before clearing his throat. "Uh, just water, please." She nodded and walked off. You stirred slightly, shifting closer to him, your fingers absentmindedly curling into the fabric of his hoodie. Jake barely resisted the urge to press a kiss to the top of your head.

Jake stifled a yawn as you stepped off the plane and into the arrivals hall at Brisbane Airport. The fluorescent lights were way too bright for six in the morning, and he was running on maybe two hours of sleep. You, on the other hand, looked like you had been hit by sleep deprivation. You were barely functioning, groggy as hell, moving through the terminal like a half-conscious zombie, even though you slept through almost all ten hours of your flight. He didn’t know you were like this after waking up, it was honestly a bit fun and adorable at the same time. He had already taken charge of grabbing both your suitcases, slinging his duffle over his shoulder while maneuvering both of your roller bags through the crowd “C’mon, sleeping beauty,” he muttered, reaching for your hand. His fingers slipped between yours, warm and steady as he tugged you along. You made a noise in response, somewhere between a hum and a whine, but didn’t pull away.

Jake really should’ve just gotten a taxi. That was the first thought that crossed his mind when he spotted his brother standing near the exit, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, smiling at him. He didn’t expect Joshua to pick him up, he really didn’t want him to pick him up. His dad said he would arrange for someone to pick him up and Jake assumed it would be a chauffeur or something. Not Josh. Before he could dwell on that, you nudged him lightly, pointing toward a man standing a few feet away. “That’s my dad,” you murmured, voice still heavy with sleep. Jake barely had time to process the information before you turned to him, stepping a little closer, tilting your chin to press a kiss to his cheek. Your lips were soft and warm. And then, just as quickly, you pulled back. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, a small smile tugging at your lips before you grabbed your suitcase and strode toward your father.

Jake stood there, his brain catching up about five seconds too late. Then, with a quiet sigh, he finally turned toward his brother. “Jake.” “Joshua.” “It’s good to see you,” Joshua said, smiling genuinely at him as he gestured toward the exit. “Figured I’d pick you up since we’re both staying at home for the next few days.” Jake just nodded, not quite able to match the same level of effort his brother was putting in. Joshua was trying. Jake knew that, he also knew that the resentment he felt for his big brother came from the wrong place. Joshua did nothing wrong for Jake to dislike him. It was their father who made it so obvious whom he deemed as the favourite child.

But that was the thing. Joshua had always been the golden son, their dad’s favorite, the one who could do no wrong. It was easy for him to try, easy for him to act like things weren’t as bad as they actually were. Meanwhile, Jake had spent years resenting the way things had played out. The way Joshua had always been held to a different standard, a better one. He nodded at his brother, forcing a tired smile. “Thank you.” Joshua cleared his throat as they walked toward his fathers car. “So… was that Y/N?” Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah." Joshua hummed, nodding. “She is pretty. Dad mentioned she was coming with you.”

“She’s staying with her family,” Jake muttered, shifting his duffel bag onto his shoulder. “Right.” Joshua paused for a second before glancing over. “How long have you been together?” Jake hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Almost half a year now.” he answered, keeping his voice even. Joshua hummed again, like he was turning the answer over in his head, trying to figure something out. It made Jake’s skin itch. “So since before Christmas?”

Jake shot him a look. “Why do you sound so surprised?” Joshua shrugged, unlocking the car. “I don’t know, man. You never really brought anyone home after Sophia. But I am glad you found someone else that makes you happy. From what I’ve heard from Uncle Jungjaes stories she is a nice girl.” Jake didn’t have a response to that, mostly because it was true. You were a nice girl. He exhaled through his nose, throwing his bag into the trunk before sliding into the passenger seat. “She is a nice girl. She makes me happy.” Joshua didn’t say anything right away. The car rumbled to life, the early morning silence settling between them like a weighted blanket. It wasn’t tense, not really but it wasn’t comfortable either. And then, just as they pulled onto the road, Joshua spoke again, softer this time. “She seems good for you.” Jake hummed and stared out the window, watching the city blur past, his own thoughts a mess of contradictions.

Jake spent most of the day sleeping, the exhaustion from the flight finally catching up to him. When he woke up around midday, his stomach was grumbling. He dragged himself downstairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the dining area. The massive oak table was set for one, his usual seat already prepared. A small Post-it was stuck just above the plate, his mom’s familiar handwriting scribbled across the paper. I made galbitang for you, just reheat it. – Love, Mom. Just the thought of his mom’s cooking had his stomach twisting in hunger. He let out a small sigh, grabbing the bowl and moving to the kitchen.

As he was reheating the soup, the sound of nails clicking against the hardwood made him glance down. Layla trotted into the room, ears perked, tail wagging wildly. Jake barely had time to react before she shoved her head against his leg, whining softly. “Hey, Layla.” He bent down, scratching behind her ears. She licked at his hand, practically vibrating with excitement. The moment he stepped into the house this morning, she had nearly tackled him, her whole body wiggling with joy. She hadn’t left his side since, curling up against him on his bed, pressing herself into his chest as if afraid he’d disappear. “You’re so clingy,” he muttered, but his voice was soft and full of adoration.

Layla huffed in response, flopping onto the floor next to his feet as he stirred his soup. He ate in silence, save for the occasional sound of Layla shifting beside him. The house was empty, just like it always was. His parents were out, probably busy with the company. That was fine with him. It was like it has always been. But the silence left too much room to think. His mind drifted as he ate, thoughts circling the same place they always seemed to end up these days.

You.

Jake groaned, dropping his spoon with a clatter. He was going crazy. He ran a hand through his hair, leaning back in his chair and decided he had to go for a run.

The moment Jake stepped outside with Layla, he exhaled, finally feeling like he could breathe again. He took the long route to the park, his grip occasionally tightening around Layla’s leash when she got too excited. She was just as happy to be outside as he was.

He found his usual bench, the one tucked beneath the big jacaranda tree, and sat down with a sigh. Layla plopped down beside him, resting her head on his knee, tail still wagging lazily. Jake scratched behind her ears absentmindedly. He should be dreading the rest of the day, thinking about dinner, about his father, about this whole damn week.

But instead, he thought about you.

Again.

About how much easier the flight had been because you were there. About how you had curled into him, barely even awake when you kissed him goodbye at the airport. About how much he wished you were sitting next to him right now.

He scoffed at himself, shaking his head. “I’m losing it, Layla.”

Layla huffed in response, like she agreed. Jake leaned back against the bench, staring up at the sky. It was funny. He spent so long dreading coming home, and now that he was here, the only thing he could think about was how soon he could see you again.

You were standing next to your father in front of the massive outdoor wedding location Sophia and Marcus had chosen for their obnoxiously expensive and over the top wedding, greeting and smiling at whoever greeted your parents while you waited for Jake to arrive. He texted you almost half an hour ago that his family was on their way, but there was still no sign of him. “You know. Even if you keep staring at the parking lot it won’t make him arrive faster.”, your father nudged your shoulder, when he caught you frowning. You huffed. “I know dad.” The only people who knew the truth about your so-called relationship with Jake were your parents. When you had first told your mom that Jake asked you to be his fake-date, she had simply laughed and told you to go with it. Why not? she had said.

Your parents weren’t particularly fond of Jake’s parents, and they had been genuinely surprised when you told them you were actually attending the wedding. Your father had asked more than once if you were joking. But when they realized Jake would be in a similar position and would be dealing with his father the whole time, they took it upon themselves to look out for him, offering him some level of refuge from whatever unpleasantness awaited. The thought of meeting his parents made your stomach twist uncomfortably. You and Jake had the whole hopelessly in love and annoyingly sweet couple act down, but still, based on what Jake had told you about his father, this whole thing was bound to be even more unpleasant than you it already was, considering this was your ex best friend and ex boyfriend's wedding. You cringed at the thought. In the ten minutes your parents and you had been waiting you had seen so many of Marcus’s friends you felt like kicking someone. You never truly liked any of them. They were spoiled, entitled, privileged assholes that believed they were untouchable thanks to daddys money. But you had gone along with it back then, hadn’t you? The endless parties, the expensive clubs, the after-hours gatherings in someone’s penthouse. You had been so desperate to fit in, to be the kind of girlfriend Marcus wanted. Even when you hated the music, even when you hated the people. Even when you hated yourself for pretending to enjoy it.

You started smoking back then. Not because you really wanted to, but because everyone else did. Because Marcus would pull you onto his lap at some rich kid’s house party, press a cigarette between your fingers, and smirk when you took a drag. And somehow that stuck. You had spent nearly two years with Marcus, yet you never truly belonged in his world. His friends tolerated you because you were his girlfriend but treated you like shit. The more you thought about it, the less sense your relationship with Marcus made. You couldn't even remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. A call of your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed Jake's Uncle approaching you. He was walking hand in hand with a very elegant woman, grinning and waving at you.

You tilted your head in confusion for a second before offering him the same enthusiastic smile. You hadn't expected him to be here, but now that you thought about it, it made sense. He and Jake’s father were business partners after all. "Y/N!" he greeted warmly, pulling you into a hug the moment he reached you. "It’s so nice to see you. You look gorgeous." You flushed at the compliment, momentarily caught off guard. "Thank you, sir. It’s nice to see you as well." Jungjae chuckled, stepping back but keeping a hand on your shoulder as he turned to your parents. "I am Sim Jungjae. Jakes uncle.", he said smoothly, shaking your father’s hand. “This is my wife Angelica. I had the chance to meet your gorgeous daughter on campus a few times."

Your parents exchanged polite smiles, your father nodding. "It’s nice to meet you Jungjae. I am Woojin and this is Nayeon." Jungjae’s grin widened as he shook your father’s hand, his charm effortlessly filling the space. "Woojin, Nayeon, it’s a pleasure. Your daughter is an absolute delight. Jake is lucky to have her." You forced a smile, suppressing the urge to squirm under his words. If only he knew. Angelica, his wife, gave you a kind smile. "It’s nice to finally meet you as well, Y/N. My husband wouldn’t stop talking about how lovely you were after he met you."

Your mother beamed, clearly pleased, while you felt your stomach twist. You had definitely not told your parents about your occasional run-ins with Jake’s uncle, mostly because you hadn’t expected it to be relevant. Before you could say anything, your name was called again. “Y/N? No way, is that really you?” You turned, momentarily startled, only to find Julia, beaming at you. She was flanked by Lillian and Clara, all three of them looking just as polished and effortlessly elegant as you remembered. You, Sophia and the three girls were kind of close back in highschool until Sophia did the unthinkable and your group fell apart. Clara and Julia being on your side and Lillian claiming you had to forgive Sophia. You hesitated for only a moment before turning to your mother. “I’ll be right back.”

She gave you a knowing look but nodded. You walked over, but before you could say anything else, Julia pulled you into a quick hug, her perfume still the same as you remembered. When she pulled back, she gave you a once-over, eyes twinkling. “You look amazing.” “You do too,” you said, glancing at Lillian and Melanie, who both nodded in agreement. “I didn’t think we’d see you here.”, Lililan mused, tilting her head. You forced a polite smile. “Well, why wouldn’t I be?” Lillian let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “I mean, considering everything…” She trailed off.

Clara gave her a pointed look and rolled her eyes, but smiled at you. “I am glad you are here. We haven’t seen each other in years! How is Korea? I love watching you instagram stories, everything looks so amazing!” Your chest warmed at that. Things had been complicated after the whole mess with Marcus and Sophia, but you hadn’t exactly fallen out with all of your old friends—life had just pulled you in different directions. Julia nodded eagerly. “Same! We should’ve kept in touch better, but you kind of disappeared on us.” You smiled, a little sheepish. “Yeah… moving cities and everything kind of made it hard. But Korea is amazing. I love it. How is Europe? You went to Portugal, right?”

Clara nodded enthusiastically. “Omg I love it. The men there? Girl ugh. Also the food? Really. You should come visit me, I have a great apartment with an ocean view and a lot of space!” Ah yes. You forgot. It wasn’t just Sophia that was ridiculously rich, but her friends as well. You were able to go to their expensive private schools, since your parents boss, Sophia's father, was sponsoring one of their best employees' kids to attend the school every year. Before you could respond, an arm slid around your waist, a familiar warmth pressing against your back. Jake. His fingers brushed along your side, and when he leaned in, his voice was low. “There you are,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to your temple before turning his attention to the three women in front of you. “Hey, ladies. Sorry to interrupt,” he said smoothly, flashing them that signature grin, “but I had to steal my girlfriend back for a second.” The three women blinked in unison. Clara was the first to react. “Wait… Jake Sim?” She looked between the two of you, eyes widening. “Holy shit, you two are together?”

Julia let out a delighted gasp. “Oh my God! Y/N, why didn’t you tell us?!” Jake chuckled, and you could feel the smug amusement radiating off of him. “Why does that sound so hard to believe?” She blinked rapidly, as if trying to process this new information. “It’s just... unexpected. I mean, you two never really ran in the same circles, right?” You shrugged, leaning slightly into Jake just to sell it further. “Things change.” A beat of silence passed before Lillian scoffed under her breath, just loud enough for you to hear. “Guess some things never do. Always finding a way to cling to people above your league.”

Oh how you just loved that girl. Before you could say something you would regret, Jake’s grip on you tightened slightly, his thumb pressing against your side in reassurance. He turned his head just enough to give Lillian a slow, unimpressed once-over. “Funny,” he mused, voice pleasant but dripping with something sharper underneath. “Last I checked, I’m the one clinging to her.” The comment landed exactly the way he intended: Melanie's lips parted slightly, clearly caught off guard, while Julia and Lillian exchanged quick glances and suppressed their amused smiles. Before Lillian could recover, Jake tugged you gently in the opposite direction. “Come on, baby, let’s go find our parents.” Clara shook her head with a laugh. “How did this even happen?” You chuckled, exchanging a look with Jake before answering. “It’s kind of a long story.” Julia nudged your arm playfully. “Well, I will demand details later.”

Jake’s fingers brushed against your waist. “You’ll have to get in line for that,” he teased. “My parents are waiting on us.” Clara sighed dramatically. “Ugh, fine, fine. But we are catching up later.” You smiled, nodding. “Of course.” Julia gave you a knowing look. “And you better spill everything.” With that, Jake gently guided you away, his fingers lacing through yours. You let him lead you away, his hand never leaving your waist, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. You glanced at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Nice save.” He smirked. “I aim to please.”

Jakes family was standing a few meters away from your parents. A truly uncomfortable feeling was spreading in your stomach, when you accidentally made eye contact with his father. His facial expression was neutral, almost bored before he realized who you were. His eyes narrowed a bit, but he started smiling. In a way you could only describe in a mean disney villain way. Thinking about it, Mufasa and Scar would fit pretty well. Jungjae was standing next to him beaming at you and opened his mouth but was interrupted by Scar 2.0. “Jake. I see you found Y/N.” Jake tensed up next to you. “Yeah. I did.” Mr. Sim’s smile didn’t waver as he took a slow step forward, his sharp gaze flickering between you and Jake. "Well," he said, voice smooth but edged with something unreadable, "you certainly took your time." Jake’s grip on your waist tightened ever so slightly. "Didn’t realize I was on a schedule," he replied evenly.

He then cleared his throat. “Mom. Dad. Josh. This is Y/N. My girlfriend.” You didn’t know if you were supposed to bow or shake his fathers hands. Jake addressed him in Korean and so you opted to bow as low as your dress let you and continued in Korean as well. “Hello Mr. Sim, Mrs. Sim, Josh. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And with that you held out your hand to shake it. His father took your outstretched and gripped it so tightly you clenched your teeth to not stop smiling. "Y/N," his father said, his voice clipped, as if testing the air, "What a surprise to actually see you here.” His tone was so clipped that it felt like an accusation rather than a greeting. Jake's hand gripped your waist a bit tighter. You did your best to mask your discomfort, smiling politely in return. "Oh, well...I sure wanted to congratulate the happy couple.”

Instead of replying directly, Mr. Sim simply nodded, his eyes still scanning you. You couldn’t help but feel like a specimen under the microscope. “Right,” he finally said, his lips curling ever so slightly as if amused by his own thoughts. He didn’t release your hand immediately, and when he did, it was almost as if he was dismissing you altogether. The look in his eyes sent a wave of unease through you, but you didn’t have the time to dwell on it before his attention shifted to Jake. “She’s polite,” he said at last, his tone neutral. “At least there’s that.” Jake didn’t seem phased by his dad’s cold reception, but you could tell by the tightness in his jaw that it bothered him more than he was letting on. His father had a way of controlling the room without even trying, and Jake had been on the receiving end of that for as long as he could think.

Jake’s mother interrupted your tail of thoughts and before you could react, she took your hands gently in hers, her touch light but firm. "It’s nice to finally meet you," she said with a warm and welcoming voice. "Jake’s told us a lot about you." "Oh, has he?" you asked, raising a brow and glancing up at Jake, who only smiled slightly. “I did interrogate him a little bit, after he told his father about you.” Jake made an embarrassed sound next to you. “Mom, please!” She just laughed at his demise. “I’ll look forward to get to know you Y/N.”

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Mom, leave the poor girl alone.”, Jake’s brother laughed and slightly nudged his mother. “Y/N. I am Josuha and this is my wife Mina. It’s nice to meet you.”, he held up his hand and you grasped it, shaking it slightly. “Nice to meet you Joshua.”, you smiled at him and moved on to Mina, “Mina.”

Mina was a gorgeous woman. She and Joshua made a stunning couple, confidence radiating off them. It was a bit intimidating to be honest. Mr. Sim hummed, clearly unimpressed by the whole situation. His gaze flickered over you again before he exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. "I suppose we’ll see if she can handle being part of this family," he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long. You felt your stomach drop, heat creeping up your neck, not the warmth from Jake’s lingering touch, but the mortifying burn of being picked apart in front of his entire family. You shouldn't care about what his family thought of you, this was faker and you would probably never see them again, but still. This whole situation was stressing you out more than you thought it would. Jake stiffened beside you, his body language shifting from tense to outright rigid. His grip on your waist tightened, like he was physically restraining himself from snapping back. Before he could, however, his mom turned sharply toward her husband, eyes flashing with irritation. "Seungho," she said, her voice firm but calm. "Enough."

Mr. Sim’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing more, his expression unreadable as he looked away. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to keep a neutral expression even as the mortification clawed at your chest. Hana, seeming to sense your discomfort, turned back to you with a softer smile, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "Don’t mind him, dear," she said smoothly. "He has a habit of speaking before thinking." Jake let out a humorless chuckle. "That’s one way to put it." Joshua cleared his throat, clearly eager to change the subject. "So, should we go inside?” The whole group slowly moved towards the entrance and you waved to your mother signaling her that you were going in. She shot you a questioning look, but you just smiled and nodded your head, signaling her that you were okay. Jakes mother was walking next to you and smiled warmly at you. "Well," she said, "I, for one, think you’re lovely. And I am really looking to spend some time with you." You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. "Thank you, Mrs. Sim," you said, your voice quieter than before. She turned to Jake, arching a delicate brow. "She’s much prettier than the last one, sweetheart." Jake coughed, his ears going red. "Mom—"

Joshua and Jungjae chuckled, and even Mina had to press her lips together to stifle a laugh. You, on the other hand, were fighting very hard to keep a straight face.

“I think she’s lovely,” Jake's uncle said firmly, offering you another warm smile before turning to Jake. “You chose well.” Jake exhaled slowly, his body relaxing beside you. He glanced down at you, his gaze softer than before. “I know.” And for some reason, the way he said it sent a different kind of warmth through you. One that had nothing to do with the summer air and scared you more than anything.

Inside the procession area Jake saw a few of his old hockey team mates so did the undoable and excused the two of you from his family.

“Dude what the fuck.”, you hissed at Jake when you were out of earshot from his dad, still spotting a sweet smile. “How can someone as rude as your father have such a nice brother and create such a nice kid. I swear that man cannot be your creator.”

Jake chuckled next to you and planted his warm hand against the naked skin of your back, guiding you toward where his friends were waiting. “I swear I don't know either. But I am glad you think I am not such an ass as him.”

You huffed and shook your head, pulling Jake into a rather abrupt halt. “Jake.”, you said, your voice as stable as it could be with him being so close that you could smell his perfume, “You are nothing like your dad. You’re warm and nice and kind. You actually care for people and their feelings. You don’t see relationships as transactions.” Jake's eyes searched your face while you continued. “You’re intelligent and funny. You wanted to adopt a penguin because you thought it would have a cold ass, Jake. I don’t think an asshat like your dad would ever think about anyone else but himself. You’re so passionate about things you love and you love passionately. Even if that passion is ramyun and if I have to ever eat Shin Ramyun again I will vomit.”

You exhaled slowly, reaching forward to flatten over his collar. “I’m just saying that you’re nothing like him. You’re not cold and calculating. You actually give a shit about people. They matter to you. And that’s more than I can say about your dad.”

Jake stood still for a moment, his thumb brushing over the bare skin of your back, his expression softening. His gaze dropped to your lips, and for a split second, you thought he might kiss you.

A small part of you wanted him to kiss you again.

You gave your heart this week.

One week to be soft and vulnerable around Jake.

One week to, like he said, feel all those feelings people feel when they are in love.

But instead of kissing you, he exhaled slowly, his eyes flickering back up to meet yours, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

He cleared his throat softly, breaking the moment and pulling his hand from your back. "I..." he began, his voice quieter than usual, softer, almost uncertain. "Thank you, Y/N. You don’t know how much that means to me.I really don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m glad I have you here. I’m glad you’re here with me."

A warmth settled in your chest at his words.

You gave him a teasing nudge, "Well, someone has to save you from your dad."

Jake laughed, but the humor didn’t quite mask the edge of gratitude in his voice. “Just don’t leave me alone with my dad for too long, okay?"

You laughed, nodding. "I’ll make sure of that."

His fingers brushed up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, and you felt it everywhere.

You knew it was for show. You knew that. You talked about how you had to step up your acting game while you were here, so you knew he was going to touch you more than usual.

But that knowledge didn’t stop the panic from curling in your chest.

Because this was exactly how it had started with Marcus.

The stolen glances, the gentle touches, the way he made you feel like you were the most important person in the world, the way he was the most important person in your world. It had been so easy to fall back then, to believe that it was real, that you were special. That he loved you.

And then it all came crashing down.

You had let yourself believe in a fantasy, and it had left you miserable.

You didn’t want to do that again. Ever.

You exhaled shakily, pushing those thoughts away. Jake isn’t Marcus. He never was. He never will be.

But as Jake looked at you again, something unbearably soft in his expression, you couldn’t help but feel scared.

Of what you were feeling.

Of what you were faking.

Of what would come in the end.

You continued your way over to Jake’s friends, who looked up in unison as you approached. “Jake!” one of the boys stood up and pulled Jake into a bear hug. “Dude, what the fuck? It’s so good to see you! Damn, bro, you got buff as hell.” Jake really did look amazing in his suit. You have seen him in suits plenty of times after and before games but this one was different. The dark blue three-piece suit tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders, the crisp white shirt emphasizing the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the color complimented your dress so effortlessly. He was effortlessly handsome, devastatingly put together, and somehow still had that easy, boyish charm that made you weak in the knees against your will.

Jake laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made you smile, and playfully boxed his friend’s shoulder. “Shut up, Tobi,” he said, though his grin betrayed how much he enjoyed the reunion. He turned to you, his arm sliding around your waist as he pulled you gently against his side. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is Tobi, my old captain. Tobi, Y/N.” Tobi’s eyes widened as he looked you up and down, then let out a low whistle. “Damn, Jake,” he said, his tone equal parts impressed and teasing. “You really pulled this gorgeous woman?” Before you could respond, Tobi took your hand in a dramatic gesture, bowing deeply and pressing an exaggerated kiss to the back of it. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up as Jake groaned beside you. “Y/N,” Tobi said, straightening up but still holding your hand, “did you know that in 10th grade, Jake–” “Tobi, don’t–” Jake tried to cut him off, lunging forward to clamp a hand over his friend’s mouth, but Tobi dodged, laughing as he continued.

“–Jake tried to do a backflip off the bleachers during gym class and completely ate it in front of the entire school? Like, full-on faceplant. It was legendary.” You burst into laughter, clutching Jake’s arm for support as Tobi mimed the fall, complete with sound effects. Jake groaned again, his ears turning pink, but he was smiling. “I hate you,” he muttered, though there was no real malice in it. The group erupted into laughter again, and Jake pulled you closer, his chest shaking with silent laughter. “Alright, alright,” he said, steering you toward the entrance of the row where Tobi and two other guys were sitting. The buzz-cut friend sitting next to Tobi, whose name you learned was Ryan, suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait, Y/N… you went to our school, right? You were in the year below us?” You nodded, and Ryan’s eyes widened. “No way. You’re Marcus’s Y/N? Like, the Y/N?”

It went silent for a moment, and you could feel Jake tense beside you. “Yeah,” you said, your tone light but firm. “That’s me.” “Damn. Didn’t they cheat on both of you?”, he asked and leaned back in his seat. Tobi’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? You were together with that ass? And they invited both of you? That’s so fucked up.” “You tell me.”, you rolled your eyes. “I mean I am here to congratulate them on their downfall. I give them 3 years tops.” Ryan shook his head, grinning. “Man, I know Marcus is nasty, but nasty enough to invite both exes?” Before you could answer, the sound of a microphone clicking on echoed through the venue, and the officiant’s voice rang out. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you could all take your seats, the ceremony is about to begin.” The group quieted down, though Tobi was still shaking his head in disbelief. As the ceremony started, you leaned into Jake, your voice low so only he could hear. “You okay?” He glanced at you, his expression softening. “Yeah,” he said, his hand finding yours. “I’m good. What about you. You squeezed his hand, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m also good.”

The reception was in full swing, but you were bored out of your mind. Your parents were deep in conversation with some of your fathers colleagues. Technically the topics they were talking about were indeed interesting, after all you were also in the medical field but you really weren’t in the mood to participate in any kind of conversation. When the official part of the wedding finally ended and the crowd slowly moved onto the dancefloor or towards the bar your eyes immediately found Jake’s table. He was on the groom's side of the hall while you were on the bride's side, since your parents were more or less still close acquaintances and colleagues to Sophie's parents.

Jake was talking to his uncle who was sitting next to him, looking as bored as you felt. As if he felt you staring, his head shot up and your eyes met. He perked up slightly and he gave you a smile. His uncle waved his hand, gesturing to you to come over.

That was all the encouragement you needed. You excused yourself from your parents with a quick, “I’ll be right back,” and made your way over to Jake’s table.

But as you reached the table, your stomach dropped. Sitting directly across from Jake was Marcus’s dad, and next to him was Jake’s dad. Both men turned to look at you as you approached, their expressions unreadable but distinctly unwelcoming.

“Y/N,” Jake’s dad said, his voice cool and measured. “What a surprise. I didn’t realize you’d be joining us.”

You forced a polite smile, sliding into the empty seat next to Jake, where his brother was sitting before. “I thought I’d keep Jake company,” you said, your tone light but firm.

Jake shot you a grateful look and grabbed your hand.

Marcus’s dad leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. “So, Y/N,” he began, his tone dripping with faux curiosity, “we haven’t seen each other in a while. How are your studies going? Still pursuing that… what was it again? Forensic anthropology?”

You nodded, keeping your expression neutral. “Yes, that’s right. I’m in my second year now.”

“Hmm,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Interesting choice. Not exactly the most… lucrative field, is it? I always thought you had so much potential. Shame to see it wasted on something so… niche.”

You clenched your fist under the table but kept your voice steady. Marcus' father was never really a fan of you. Apparently you had a really appalling charm to rich old men. “It’s not about the money for me. I find the work meaningful.”

Jake’s dad chimed in, his tone equally condescending. “Meaningful, yes, but surely you’ve considered the practicalities. It’s a gruesome line of work, isn’t it? Handling… remains and such.”

You could feel Jake tense beside you, but you didn’t look at him. Instead, you met Jake’s dad’s gaze head-on. “It’s not for everyone,” you said evenly. “But I believe in giving a voice to those who can’t speak for themselves. It’s important work.”

Marcus’s dad smirked, clearly unimpressed. “Noble, I suppose. But tell me, do you really see yourself doing that long-term? It’s not exactly a career that lends itself to stability.”

Before you could respond, he added, almost as an afterthought, “Though I suppose it’s a good thing you’re not with Marcus anymore. He needs someone who can match his ambition. Someone who understands the value of a real career.”

The words hit like a slap, and you felt your cheeks burn. Jake’s hand tightened around yours under the table. You forced a tight smile and said, “Well, I’m glad Marcus found someone who meets your standards.”

The table fell silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Marcus’s dad raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your response, while Jake’s dad gave you a look that could only be described as disapproving.

“Well,” Marcus’s dad said after a moment, “I suppose time will tell if this little… experiment of yours pays off.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Jake beat you to it. “Y/N’s one of the smartest people I know,” he said, his voice firm. “She’s going to be amazing at whatever she chooses to do. And for the record, Marcus is the one who missed out.”

The table fell silent again. Marcus’s dad looked momentarily taken aback, but he quickly recovered, his smirk returning. “We’ll see,” he said, his tone dismissive.

Jake’s dad cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. “Well,” he said, “I’m sure Y/N will… figure things out in due time.”

You forced another smile, though it took every ounce of self-control not to roll your eyes. “Thank you,” you said, your tone clipped. “I’m sure I will.”

Jake’s grip on your hand tightened even further, his thumb running soothing circles against your palm. His jaw was clenched, and you could practically feel the effort it took for him to keep from snapping back.

Marcus’s father hummed in amusement, sipping his wine before tilting his head towards Jake. “And you, Jake? Still chasing that little hockey dream of yours?” His voice was laced with mockery.

Jake’s smile was polite, but you could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes. “It’s going well, actually.”

Marcus’s father let out an unimpressed hum, swirling the whiskey in his glass. “Hockey,” he mused, as if it were some fleeting hobby rather than something Jake had poured his heart and soul into. “It’s a shame, really. You have all the resources at your disposal, and you choose this?”

Jake’s father exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a faint clink. “I agree,” he said, eyes sharp as they settled on his son. “You can’t keep pretending this is a long-term career. At some point, you need to accept reality. The company isn’t going to wait forever, Jake.”

Jake barely reacted. At least, outwardly. But you felt it in the way his fingers twitched against your palm, the slight clench of his jaw, the way his shoulders tensed.

Jake’s voice was quiet but firm. “I never said I was going to take over.”

His father’s expression didn’t change, but something in the air around him did. It was an almost imperceptible shift, a flicker of disapproval so cold it made your skin prickle. How, in which universe was Jake closely related to this man?

Marcus’s father let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Honestly, Minjae, I don’t know how you put up with this. He has everything right in front of him, yet he’s throwing it away for what? A sport that won’t last past his thirties?”

You had never wanted to punch an old man before, but there was a first time for everything. Actually that was a lie you wanted to punch this man 2 years ago when you were with Marcus as well.

Jake exhaled slowly, his grip on you loosening slightly. His father barely looked at him, already sipping his whiskey again, as if the conversation had bored him.

Jungjae, who had been quietly observing the conversation, finally cleared his throat. His voice was calm.

“Gentlemen,” he said with a practiced smile. “Let’s not turn this into a lecture.”

Jake’s father raised an eyebrow, but Jungjae continued before he could interrupt.

“I understand the concerns,” he said, his gaze sweeping across both men. “Jake’s future is important, of course. But I also think it’s worth acknowledging that success isn’t a singular path.” His eyes flickered to you briefly, then back to Jake. “And, more importantly, we should trust that Jake is capable of making the right decisions for himself.”

It was a diplomatic way of telling them to back off, and you wanted to hug him for it. You made a mental note to thank him later.

Marcus’s father let out a soft scoff but didn’t argue, while Jake’s father merely exhaled sharply through his nose.

Jungjae turned to you and Jake, his expression softening. “Why don’t we step away for a bit?” he suggested. “I think we could all use a breather. And maybe a drink.”

Jake hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah,” he muttered. “That’d be great.”

Without another word, you stood, relieved to escape the suffocating presence of the two men behind you. As you walked away, Jake exhaled slowly beside you, his hand slipping down to intertwine with yours properly, fingers lacing together.

He leaned in slightly, his voice just for you. “I think I need, like, five shots. Even without Katy.”

You let out a breathy laugh, squeezing his hand. “I’ll match you.”

The bar was quieter than the rest of the reception hall, tucked away near the edge of the venue where the music wasn’t as overpowering. The soft hum of conversations and the faint clinking of glasses filled the space as you slid onto one of the stools, Jake settling beside you while his uncle flagged down the bartender. Jungjae let out a long sigh, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “I apologize for my brother,” he said, tone gentle but laced with frustration. “He can be… difficult.” Jake scoffed under his breath. “That’s one way to put it.” His uncle shot him a knowing look but didn’t press further. Instead, he turned toward the bartender and ordered a round of shots. “Three, please. Something strong.” You exhaled, your body finally relaxing now that you were away from the oppressive presence of Jake’s father and Marcus’s dad. “You don’t have to apologize for him,” you murmured, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against the smooth bar top. “But thank you.”

Jungjae offered you a small, appreciative smile. “I do, though,” he said. “He forgets that respect is earned, not demanded.” Jake let out a breath of laughter, shaking his head. “Try telling him that.” The bartender set down three shot glasses in front of you, each filled with clear liquid. Jungjae lifted his with a small grin. “To keeping our sanity intact.” You and Jake clinked your glasses against his before downing the shot in one go. The burn was immediate, spreading warmth through your chest, and you let out a small hiss, shaking your head. “Damn,” you muttered, blinking rapidly.

Jake chuckled beside you, setting his glass down. Jungjae downed his shot smoothly, barely flinching as he set the glass down with a quiet clink. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I swear,” he muttered in Korean, rubbing his temples, “your father drives me crazy sometimes, Jaeyun.” You let out a breathy laugh, warmth still lingering from the alcohol. “Then why do you still put up with him?" Jungjae huffed a laugh. “Someone has to make sure he doesn’t scare away every decent person around him.” He gave Jake a pointed look. “And someone has to look out for this one.” Jake rolled his eyes but smiled, shaking his head. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, but I do,” Jungjae replied smoothly, placing a firm hand on Jake’s shoulder before shifting his gaze to you. “Especially now that you’re in the picture.” Something about the way he said it made your stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. Before you could respond, the DJ’s voice rang through the speakers. “All couples, please join us on the dance floor for a special slow dance.” You stiffened slightly, instinctively glancing toward Jake. He was already looking at you, his brows slightly raised in question.

Jungjae, however, grinned and clapped his hands. “Perfect timing.” Jake turned to his uncle. “What?” Jungjae jerked his chin toward the dance floor. “You two should go.” Jake scoffed. “We’re not leaving you to drink alone.” His uncle waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, please. I’m a grown man. I can handle myself.” Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in slightly and added, “Besides, who am I to hinder you from dancing with your beautiful girlfriend.” Your breath caught. Jake blinked at his uncle before sighing, shaking his head with a small smile. You bit your lip, eyes flickering to Jake’s. He sighed but smiled, holding out his hand. “Shall we?”

The opening notes of Lover filled the reception hall. Around you, couples swayed in each other’s arms, lost in their own little worlds, and for a brief second, you hesitated.

But then Jake’s hands found your waist, gentle and sure, pulling you in just enough that your bodies aligned. His warmth seeped into you instantly, and before you could even process it, your arms had wound around his shoulders, fingertips brushing against the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

A quiet sigh left him as he swayed you in time with the music, his grip steady, reassuring.

You swallowed hard and let yourself sink into the moment, tilting your head slightly to glance up at him. The golden lighting of the reception cast soft shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his jaw, the slope of his nose. His lips were parted just slightly, his breathing even, and then-

Then he rested his forehead against yours.

It was such a simple action. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, the way his breath fanned against your cheek.

Your stomach flipped.

You sucked in a breath, blinking away the sudden rush of warmth blooming in your chest.

God, if this was fake, then why did it feel so incredibly real?

Trying to distract yourself from the way your pulse was betraying you, you let out a soft chuckle and murmured, “Kotone wants this to be her first dance song at her wedding. ”

Jake’s brows lifted slightly, his eyes blinking open as he leaned back just enough to look at you. “Really?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You nodded and hummed.

His lips curled into a smile, something undeniably fond flickering across his face.

The warmth in his gaze did something dangerous to your heart.

A second passed. Then another.

You could feel his heartbeat where your chests were touching. Or maybe that was just yours going haywire on its own.

You were hoping he closed the small distance between you. Hoping that he would press his lips against yours.

But he didn’t.

Instead he cleared his throat slightly and pulled away. His face was still close enough to yours, that you could feel the heat radiating from it. “You look gorgeous today, Y/N. Marcus is surely biting his ass right now.”

Jake’s fingers traced slow, featherlight circles against the bare skin of your lower back, the heat of his touch burning through you. Every movement was deliberate, teasing, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you. Which he probably did. Stupid idiot.

You tilted your head, lips curling into something playful.

“Oh, I know he is,” you teased, letting your fingers trail lazily over the back of Jake’s neck, knowing that he really liked it when you played with his hair. “Not that he’d ever admit it. But I saw the way he looked at me during dinner. He was so mad it was almost funny.”

His fingers pressed just a little firmer against your skin as he pulled you even closer, the warmth of his palm spreading across your back. “Yeah? What about Sophia?”

You smirked, ignoring how his touch was burning on your skin. “She looked like she swallowed a lemon.”

Jake laughed at that. “I almost fell bad,” he mused, then paused before grinning. “Actually, no, I don’t.”

You laughed softly. “Neither do I.”

His gaze softened as he looked at you. “I wasn’t lying, you know.”

You blinked up at him. “About what?”

His hand slid a fraction higher, his thumb grazing over your spine, sending a shiver down it. “You look absolutely stunning tonight, Y/N.”

Your breath caught in your throat for a second before you regained control. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sim.” Your voice was teasing, but there was something sincere beneath it.

Jake scoffed, his grin widening. “Not so bad? I’m wearing a damn three-piece suit.”

You hummed in agreement, letting your fingers drag lightly over his shoulder. “And looking very expensive while doing so.”

Jake smirked. “Would you believe me if I said I picked it out myself?”

You raised a brow. “No.”

He let out another laugh, shaking his head. “Fair enough.” Then, his voice lowered just slightly, gaze locked onto yours. “I wanted to match you.”

Your heart did something stupid in your chest, skipping a beat before speeding up. You swallowed. “You did?”

Jake nodded, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist. “Of course. Can’t have my girlfriend looking better than me, can I?”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t waver. “Oh, so that’s what this is? A competition?”

Jake leaned in just a little again, his breath warm against your lips. “If it is, you’re winning,” he murmured.

Your stomach flipped, your fingers curling slightly against his shoulder.

Your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.

You needed to say something.

“Well,” you managed, clearing your throat, “we definitely made an impression tonight.”

Jake chuckled, his grip not loosening. “My mom is obsessed with you. She and uncle Jungjae were raving about how great they think you are.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. “She hasn’t even had one proper conversation with me.”

“Oh but uncle Jungjae had plenty.” Jake groaned. “I think he’s already planning our wedding.”

You let out a loud laugh, burying your face briefly against his shoulder. “Oh my god. Really?”

Jake sighed dramatically. “I swear he looked at me like I’d personally blessed the family bloodline or something.”

You grinned, tilting your head. “Well, I mean we would make pretty kids. You know, maybe Mr. Fluffington the third needs a sibling? I was thinking about the Kitty plushie we saw in butter last week?” (pls its so cute look at the link)

Jake laughed and shook his head slightly. “You think we are ready for a second one? Isn’t Mr. Fluffington the Third enough for you? We haven't even told our parents yet.”

You just shrugged and kept on smiling. “If you are up to it. I want a girl though.”

Jake’s eyes flickered to something behind you.

His smirk didn’t falter, but something in his eyes shifted. His fingers, still warm against the bare skin of your back, tightened ever so slightly.

“My dad’s watching.”, he murmured.

Your breath caught in your throat. Without thinking, your hand smoothed over the fabric of his suit. “Oh?”

Jake hummed, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “Yeah. Probably trying to decide if you’re worthy of the Sim family name.”

You scoffed, tilting your head. “Oh, please. He can go fuck himself and the Sim family name. You’re taking on mine.”

Jake let out a soft chuckle. “Your last name is Sim as well.”

You pretended to consider. “Right. Let’s ask Heeseung to marry both of us first so we can be Lees.”

He shook his head and laughed. “You are an idiot.”

“Lies. That's a totally valid and good idea.”, you patted his chest.

His fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of your dress. “I think this is a person that requires us to step our game up.”

“What do you mean?”, you tilted your head slightly.

Before you could even process it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hesitant either. It was deliberate, slow, like he had all the time in the world to make sure you felt every second of it. He tasted like tequila.

His hand trailed down your spine, fingers grazing over every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Your breath hitched, your hands tightening around the lapels of his suit jacket.

You should stop.

For your own sake. You should stop.

And yet, you weren’t pulling away.

But then, the song ended.

And reality came crashing back.

You both pulled back slightly, just enough to look at each other. Jake’s breathing was uneven, his pupils blown wide, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

You weren’t doing much better. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, your skin burning where he had touched you.

What now?

Before either of you could figure it out, a voice cut through the haze.

“Y/N!”

You turned just in time to see Sophia weaving through the crowd, her expression unreadable but her gaze locked onto you with determination.

“Can I talk to you?” she asked, barely sparing Jake a glance. “Alone.”

You blinked at her and then at Jake, still breathless, still reeling from whatever the hell just happened. Jake's shoulder tenses under your hands and you could feel his disapproval.

His hand remained on your waist. “Do you want to go with her?” You hesitated and looked at him, at his lips and back to his eyes, that were full of worry and something you couldn’t fully decipher. You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be right back. Don’t worry.” With one last glance at him, at the way his jaw was clenched, at the way he still looked like he wasn’t sure if he should let you go, you turned to Sophia.

You followed Sophia out of the ballroom. Your heart was still beating way too fast.

The air outside was cooler, the music fading into a dull hum as you both stepped into a quieter hallway.

Sophia wrung her hands together, her expression torn between guilt and nerves. You had no idea what she wanted to say and why it had to be outside, but you figured you might as well get it over with.

You cleared your throat. “So… congratulations, I guess?”

Sophia let out a short, breathy laugh, but it sounded more like a sigh. “Thanks,” she murmured before shaking her head. “God, this is so weird.”

You didn’t disagree. It was weird. A few years ago you thought you would be the one marrying Marcus and Sophia would have been your maid of honor. But now she was standing there in a white dress, finger adorned with a ring that was supposed to signal her undying love for someone you once loved.

Before you could think of anything to say, she blurted, “I’m so sorry.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Uh–”

“I didn’t want to invite you,” she rushed on, eyes wide, hands gesturing wildly. “I swear I didn’t. Our families said it was only proper because of how close our parents are, and we invited all the other kids of their colleagues and it just–it wasn’t up to me, Y/N.”

You nodded slowly, not sure what to do with that information.

Sophia exhaled shakily. “I know I don’t deserve to say this, but I really am sorry. For everything. For hurting you, for ruining our friendship. I hated what I did to you, and I hate myself for it.” Her voice cracked slightly. “You were my best friend.”

A lump formed in your throat. This situation was eerily similar to the one two years ago, when she tried to apologize for sleeping with your boyfriend. When she tried to tell you she didn’t mean to and she was drunk and out of her mind.

You swallowed. “Yeah, well… you made your choice.”

“I did,” she whispered, looking down. “And it was the worst one I ever made.”

For a moment, you just stared at her. You had spent so much time resenting her, being angry, feeling betrayed. She deserved your anger and resentment but you were over it. You had come to terms with their decision and you were not too hung up on it anymore. You closed that chapter.

“I’m glad you’re with Jake,” she said after a beat, lifting her gaze again. “He’s a good guy. You look really happy together. Happier than you did when you were with us.”

You hesitated. Your instinct was to scoff, to remind her that she had no right to comment on your relationship. But for a split second, you felt bad for her.

“He makes me really happy.”, you say softly.

You were still staring at her. Really looked at her for the first time in two years.

Her fingers were twisted together and she was blinking rapidly. You realized she was blinking away tears.

Sophia had always been a confident person. Sharp, bold, never second-guessing herself. But right now? Here at her wedding, where she should feel incredible, like the main character of the evening she looked small. She looked…sad?

“I really do hope you’re happy,” she murmured, glancing away. “I mean it. I hope you and Jake make it. Because, well…” She let out a soft, humorless laugh. “It’s not as easy as it looks, is it?”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She hesitated, chewing on her lip. Then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she leaned in just slightly.

“You know how our families are,” she said quietly. “How things work. There was no way Marcus and I were going to get away with what we did without…consequences.”

A strange feeling stirred in your chest. “Consequences?”

Sophia gave you a tight smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “A scandal like that? The golden boy caught cheating on his long-term girlfriend? Me being the other woman?” She shook her head. “Our parents were furious. It was bad for business. A nightmare for their image.”

Your blood ran cold.

“So, what?” you asked, voice quieter now. “This marriage… it’s not–”

“It makes things easier.” Sophia’s lips parted like she was about to say more, but then she pressed them together in a firm line. She exhaled sharply. “It’s just… easier this way.”

And suddenly, things made sense.

The rushed engagement. The extravagant wedding.

You knew Marcus. You knew how egoistic and self centered he was. How he always had everything to go his way.

And you knew Sophia. You knew she never wanted to marry. If she did, she always wanted to marry in Italy, at some weird lake that you couldn’t remember the name of, with only her family and friends present. After she traveled the world. After she has lived her life. After she has experienced all the things you would daydream about together.

You also knew their parents. Parents that would’ve done anything to protect their image. To smooth over the scandal of their heirs being caught cheating, partying, taking drugs.

They weren’t marrying because they loved each other.

It was damage control.

That realization made your heart drop. Where just minutes before you felt butterflies and your heart was beating in overtime just thinking about Jake in his stupidly good looking suit right now the thought of him holding you, kissing you made you want to scream and punch someone.

Sophia and Marcus weren’t together because of love. They were together because it was the easiest way to clean up the mess they had made. Because their parents had decided it was the best way to protect their reputations.

It was how their world worked. How Jake's world worked.

You liked to forget that Jake came from a family that is not just given scholarships because they work hard, he comes from a family that gives those scholarships.

You weren’t stupid.

You knew Jake was different from Marcus.

But his father? His family?

Would they ever accept you?

Would they look at you the way Marcus’ parents had, like you weren’t good enough? Would they do everything in their power to make sure Jake ended up with someone more… fitting? His mother and his brother seemed nice enough, but how much say did they get in their lives?

The thought made your chest tighten.

You were already scared.

Scared of how easy it was to fall for Jake. How it was just like when you started dating Marcus. How you fell in love with Marcus.

He betrayed you. It was Marcus' decision to fuck your friend.

But Jake? How much is he actually allowed to decide?

No matter how much you wanted him, no matter how much he wanted you, there were forces so much bigger than the two of you.

And you weren’t sure you could survive being broken by another rich boy.

Jake watched you go. He turned around to join his uncle at the bar again but before he even got off the dancefloor, a voice stopped him in his tracks. “Well, well,” Marcus drawled, stepping into his path. “Look who decided to show up. I was quite surprised when we received your RSVP back. And you came with little Y/Nie.” Jake clenched his jaw, already exhausted by the conversation that hadn’t even started. “What do you want, Marcus?” Just like that the butterflies and the nice tingles from your touch disappeared and he asked himself if the happy couple planned this. Destroying your and Jake's nice moment.

Marcus laughed, low and mocking. “Still got that temper, huh? Guess some things never change.” He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes flicking toward you before settling back on Jake. “Speaking of things that never change. Y/N looks good, doesn't she? Almost made me forget how… boring she used to be. Almost. Guess it makes sense, though.” Jake exhaled sharply. “What do you mean?” Marcus only laughed, low and mocking. “She always had a thing for lost puppies. Guess she hadn’t outgrown that yet.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Tell me, does she still make that little noise when you kiss her neck? You know the one, like she is trying to hold back but can’t? Does she still refuse to take dick down her throat? She never liked to be face fucked. She wasn’t really into anything really. She was just, well, boring."

Jake's vision blurs with a sharp flash of white-hot rage for a second, fists clenching at his sides. His whole body goes rigid, his muscles tightening as a rush of anger courses through him. ‘Smoking, drinking, sex when I didn’t even want to‘, that is what you told him. Did Marcus do that? Make you go down on him even if you didn't want to? He takes a step forward without even realizing it, his fists rising ever so slightly, the urge to slam them into Marcus' face overwhelming. If this were a hockey rink, he'd have already thrown his gloves down, ready to go. Marcus grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “What?” he taunted. “Gonna hit me? At my own wedding? Do it, Sim." Jake’s jaw tightens, his breath coming in shallow, measured bursts. The heat of the moment almost drowns out everything else, but he manages to force his anger down. He takes a slow, deliberate breath through his nose, trying to regain control.

“You don’t know shit, Marcus,” Jake mutters, his voice low and dangerous, the kind of tone that signals a warning. “You don’t know a damn thing about her.” Marcus scoffs, looking at Jake with mock innocence. “Oh, I know plenty, Sim. I basically shaped her into the person she is now. Tell me, does she still smoke?” Jake's face did something out of his control and Marcus smiled triumphantly. “Seems like she does. Looks like I could get the little weirdo to do stuff she despised. Made her addicted. I bet she thinks of me every time she lights a cig.” Jake’s jaw tightens, his knuckles white as he fights the urge to slam Marcus into the nearest wall.

But before he can move, an arm slings around his shoulders. “Jake, bro!” Tobi’s voice is light, casual, but his grip on Jake’s shoulder is firm. “Come on, man, you owe me a drink.” Jake keeps his gaze locked on Marcus for a beat longer, watching the way his jaw tics. Then, he exhales sharply, forcing himself to turn away. “Right,” he mutters, letting Tobi steer him toward the bar. As they walk away, Marcus calls after them, his voice dripping with mockery. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Jake. She’s not the type you'd want to stick around to. Trust me, I know.” Jake doesn’t look back, but his shoulders tense under Tobi’s arm. “Ignore him,” Tobi mutters, guiding Jake to the bar. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.” Jake nods, but the tension in his body doesn’t ease. He grabs the drink the bartender slides toward him and takes a long sip, his mind racing.

At one point you made your way back to Jake, sliding your hand into his and resting your head on his shoulder, while he was chatting with a few of his former teammates. He knew that as soon as you got clingy you were either drunk or tired and judging by how you were talking without slurring your words he conducted you were just really tired.

“Hey Y/N.”, he softly petted your hair.

“Mhm?”, you hummed, tilting your head to look at him. Your lipstick was slightly smudged and your cheeks had a reddish hue thanks to the warmth in the building and the few shots he knew you had. You were beautiful.

“Do you wanna go home?”

You lifted yourself from his chest. “You think we stayed long enough by now? I kinda wanna be rude but also not, you know. Your dad would be up your arse if we left too early.”

“You’re tired Y/N. I don’t care about my dad.”, he shrugged and pulled you back against his chest.

“Where should we go? I mean it would be weird if we left to go separate ways right now, right?”, you said, settling back into the position you were in before.

“Can we sleep over at your place? I kinda don’t want to spend a lot of time at home.”, Jake took your hands and started to play around with the rings on them.

“Sure. Do you wanna stop at your place first? To get toiletries and stuff?”, you asked, slightly wiggling your fingers.

“Sure. Are your parents going to stay here longer?”, Jake craned his neck and searched for your parents. They were still sitting on their original table laughing at something.

“Probably. My parents are social butterflies. Wouldn’t surprise me if they came home at like 6 am. Where are yours?”

“Dunno. But probably still here.”, he shrugged, not really caring.

“Okay then let’s go. I want to sleep.”, you said and stood up. The two of you bid farewell to his and your friends and called a cab to drive you to his house.

Jake was laying on your bed, mindlessly watching Tik Tok while you were showering first. Jake had heard the sound of the water running, the occasional hum of your voice. By the time he stepped into the shower you were probably already half asleep, your eyes were already heavy when you two were in the cab to your parents house.

Jake let the hot water pour over him, leaning his forehead against the cool tile. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the steam fill his lungs. The heat felt good, but it didn't help to get the tension out of his body. His thoughts drifted back to Marcus’ words. The things he had said about you. How did he dare to ask Jake that? How did he dare to talk like this about you?

He clenched his fists for a second, exhaling sharply as the water ran over his face.

When he finally turned off the water, he towel-dried his hair and stepped out of the shower, still lost in thought. The bathroom mirror fogged up, and he wiped it clear with his hand, catching his reflection for a moment before he walked into the bedroom, where you were waiting, curled up on the bed in one of his oversized shirts, you stole from his suitcase.

You looked so peaceful, your hair a little messy, your face soft, without make up and relaxed. The dim light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room. He slid under the covers, his body brushing against yours as he settled in beside you. You shifted, resting your head on his chest.

Jake swallowed hard.

He should leave it alone.

He really really should.

Your sex life was none of his business. You weren't a real couple. Jake didn't have to well more or less compete with your ex. He was a close friend of yours that just happened to be your fake boyfriend.

That you were cuddling with right now.

After slow dancing at a wedding.

And kissing at said wedding.

Okay. Maybe he could ask.

Jake shifted slightly, his arm resting loosely around your waist. He stared up at the ceiling for a second, debating how to even ask that. He knew he was going to regret it the second the words left his mouth.

“Can I ask you something?”

You hummed sleepily against his chest. “You just did.”

Jake huffed out a quiet laugh. He hesitated for a second longer, then finally asked, “What was it like with Marcus?”

You stilled.

Your body tensed for just a fraction of a second before you shifted against him. His fingers twitched against your back.

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, blinking blearily like you weren’t sure you’d heard him right. “What?”

Jake cleared his throat. “I mean, like… you and him. Sexually.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Huh. Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

He wasn’t even sure he knew.

Jake exhaled sharply, staring up at the ceiling again. “I don’t know. It’s just. Marcus said some shit earlier, and I guess I started wondering.” He glanced back down at you. “I know it’s none of my business, but I just–” He sighed, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

You didn’t say anything right away. You just watched him, your expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, you let out a quiet sigh and rested your chin on his chest.

“It was awful,” you admitted.

Jake blinked. “What?”

“Sex with Marcus,” you clarified. “It was awful.”

Jake frowned.

“I mean, I thought it was normal at first,” you continued, voice softer now. “I thought maybe I just wasn’t really into it. Or maybe that was just how it was supposed to be. But looking back…” You shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “I faked it. A lot. Most of the time, actually.”

Jake just stared at you, trying to process that. “Wait. You mean you never came with him?”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “Maybe once or twice? I don’t really know. I kind of refused to sleep with him for the first like six months. And well after that? Let’s just say Marcus isn’t really familiar with female autonomy and well, quite egoistic. So he came and I just didn't?”

Jake fell from all the clouds at once.

“What the fuck?” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He pulled back slightly, staring at you.

Jake’s brain short-circuited.

Fuck.

What the fuck.

He has kissed you like four, five times by now and knew that you were very sensitive. He knew how easy it was to get you to shiver slightly, how you enjoyed it when someone trailed his fingers down your neck. And he didn't even made out with you. Okay, borderline. But how in the hell did that stupid asshole not get you to cum?

He sat up a little, resting on his elbow as he looked down at you. “You’re telling me that in years of dating, he didn’t —”

“Nope.”

Jake ran a hand down his face, trying to wrap his head around that. “And you just faked it?”

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling like you were remembering something far away. “Yeah. I just wanted it to be over most of the time. It was easier that way.”

Jake felt something hot and annoyed settle in his chest. He should just have killed Marcus at the wedding. Not just hit him. How did he dare to treat you this bad in your relationship and then talk shit to your boyfriend, well fake boyfriend but not from Marcus point of view, after he made you feel like you wanted sex to be over?

“I mean, it’s not like I had anything to compare it to,” you added, voice lighter. You were trying to brush it off. “I just assumed that’s how it was supposed to be.”

Jake scoffed. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

You turned your head toward him, amusement flickering in your eyes now. “Oh I know that now. But back at 16 I thought it was kinda weird, especially since I had a boyfriend to touch myself.”

Your smirk deepened. Oh you were enjoying this.

“I mean,” you continued, “at first I thought maybe something was wrong with me, y’know? Like, maybe I was doing something wrong? Sophia always told me how good you made her feel and how good her orgasms were. But I never really understood what she meant.”

Jake stilled. He forgot that you and Sophia were close friends before she cheated, so of course you probably knew about his and Sophia’s sex life.

“But then I started thinking…” You tilted your head, voice going mock-thoughtful. “Maybe it wasn’t me that was the problem.” Your eyes found his and you batted your eyes. “Maybe Marcus was just that bad.”

Jake exhaled harshly. “He was that bad.”

Your grin turned downright wicked. “Mhm. He was. I figured that out as well. But now i got it all covered, don’t worry Jakey. I can do his job way better and I do find my own clit, compared to him.”

Jake swallowed harshly. “I- I am glad you do.”

He wanted to slam his head against the nearest wall. Or maybe your head, just to knock some sense into you.

His grip on your waist twitched, but he didn’t let go. Maybe because if he did, he had no idea where your hands would wander next, and he really didn’t trust himself to handle that like a sane person.

You let out a soft hum, watching his throat work as he swallowed. “You seem awfully invested in my lack of orgasms, Sim.”

Jake wanted to argue. He really, really did. He clenched his jaw. “I’m not.”

Your brows lifted, teasing. “No?”

“No.”

You hummed, unconvinced, shifting onto your side again, way too close. “I don’t know… you seemed pretty worked up about it just a second ago.”

“I was worked up about Marcus being a shit boyfriend,” he corrected, voice tight.

“Oh, so my orgasms or lack thereof does concern you.”

Jake swore under his breath, running a hand down his face. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I am,” you agreed easily. “And very flexible, too.”

Jake nearly choked. “Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

You giggled, absolutely delighted by his suffering. “What?”

He shook his head, staring up at the ceiling like it could save him. “Nothing.”

You poked at his side. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”

“Oh, you so are,” you teased. “Are you flustered by my sexlife, Jakey?”

You hummed, clearly not convinced. Then, before he could stop you, you reached out and tapped a finger against the center of his chest. “You’re acting weird, Sim.”

“I’m not acting weird.” He was definitely acting weird. Fuck his brain was acting weird.

You grinned, dragging your fingertip slowly down the fabric of his shirt. “Ohhh, I think you are.”

Jake caught your wrist, stopping you before you could do something stupid, something worse. You blinked up at him, wide-eyed, as if you were the innocent one in this situation. His grip tightened just slightly. “Are you done?”

“Dunno.” You leaned in. “Are you?”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose. “You’re insufferable.”

You smirked, completely unbothered. “And yet, you still keep playing along.”

“Go to sleep,” he ground out, glaring down at you.

You grinned smugly. “Why? Am I making you uncomfortable, Jakey?”

Jake hated you. He hated you so much. (He did not, in fact, hate you.)

You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. Or more how Jake got you to agree to this. Two days after the wedding Jake stood in front of your parents doorstep and told your dad he was here to steal you away for the day. You were still in your Pyjama, your hair a mess and barely awake, when your dad and Jake came into the kitchen laughing about something. “Jake?”, you asked, swallowing the bite of toast you just stuffed into your mouth. “What are you doing here?” “It’s Tuesday. We are going ice skating today.”, he said while plopping down next to you. “Huh. What do you mean?”, you asked.

“I am taking you to my old rink today. They have public skating hours every Tuesday so I thought it was fun to bring you along.”, he shrugged and stole one of the bananas on your plate. “Oh I don’t know how to ice skate?”, you said and took another bite from your toast. “Good thing I know how to skate.”, he grinned at you. An hour later you were inside a freezing cold ice rink, staring at a pair of rental skates. Jake was sitting next to you, lacing up his own skates with practiced ease. He found some of his old skates at his parents house and got them sharpened, while you got fitted for your skates. Stupid hockey player.

You exhaled and shot him a look. “You realize I could die, right?” Jake smirked, not even looking up as he tied his laces. “You’re being dramatic.” “No, you’re being dramatic,” you countered. “Dragging me to an ice rink when I can barely walk on solid ground." Jake grinned. “Ice is solid as well Y/N.”

You groaned and went back to fumbling with your skates. They felt stiff, awkward, and way too tight, and you were half convinced that this was all part of some elaborate scheme to make you fall on your ass. And maybe break some bones in the progress. After a few moments of struggle, you let out a defeated sigh. “Okay. I can’t do this.” Jake snorted. “C’mon, princess.” He moved, crouching down in front of you before you could protest. “Let me help.” You stiffened, watching as he easily took over, fingers brushing against your ankle as he tightened the laces. “There,” he said, sitting back with a satisfied grin. “Now, are you ready to go humiliate yourself in front of a bunch of kids?” You glared. “I hate you.” Jake just winked. “Not you don’t.” Standing on the rubber mats was fine. Walking to the rink entrance was less fine. Stepping onto the ice?

Absolutely not. Jake tugged on your hand, but you dug your heels in, refusing to budge. “I can’t.” “You can,” he said, voice infuriatingly patient. “Just take it slow.” “Jake.” You looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “I will fall.” “I won’t let you fall.” You hesitated. Jake sighed, stepping onto the ice first and turning to face you. “Here,” he said, holding out both hands. “Just hold onto me.” You squinted at him. “If let my hands go, I swear—” “I’m not letting your hands go. I won‘t let you go.” With a deep breath, you cautiously put one foot forward. The second your skate touched the ice, you panicked, immediately grabbing onto Jake’s arms.

Jake laughed, barely budging from the impact. “Okay, okay,” he soothed, steadying you easily. “I got you. See? You’re fine.” Your heart was racing. “I hate this. I hate you. Fuck yourself Jaeyun Sim.” Jake grinned. “You’re doing amazing.” You groaned, fingers tightening in his hoodie. “I swear to god, if you let me go, I will personally make sure you never skate again.” Jake grinned wider. “Noted.”

You were going to kill him. If you ever got off this ice alive. You clung to Jake like your life depended on it as he slowly guided you forward. Your movements were stiff, jerky, and entirely uncoordinated, but at least you weren’t on your ass yet. “Relax,” Jake murmured, tightening his grip on your hands. “You’re way too tense.” “That’s because I’m trying not to die.” Jake laughed, the sound bouncing off the high ceilings of the rink. “You’re not gonna die.”

“You can’t guarantee that,” you shot back. “I literally can.” He smirked. “Besides, you’re already better than the last time you tried.” You frowned. “I’ve never tried.” “Exactly.” You groaned, but somehow, your feet started moving. Jake kept you steady, skating backward with ease, like this was second nature to him. It probably was. You loved seeing him on the ice. He looked so happy there, albeit during games he didn’t look all too happy, but a bit constipated at times. He was a competitive idiot. But you really didn’t love seeing yourself on the ice.

He must’ve noticed you staring, because his smirk softened. “I used to skate here all the time when I was a kid,” he said. “Like, all the time. My mom would drop me off and I’d stay for hours. Just doing laps, messing around with the puck until my actual training started. Tobi and I always fought who spend more time on the ice.” You blinked. Yup, competitive idiot.

“Sounds nice,” you murmured. Jake shrugged. “Yeah. It was.”

Before you could say anything else, a blur of movement zipped past, and you barely had time to register a kid skating perfectly before you let out a scandalized noise “Oh, come on.” Jake lost it, throwing his head back in laughter. “What?” You gestured wildly. “That kid is showing off.” Jake grinned. “He is not. Y/N he literally just skates at a normal speed. You’re just slow.” “Well, this shit is hard. The floor is slippery and I am standing on two blades. How am I supposed to be faster than this?” Jake laughed. “Well by doing the same thing that kid is doing.”, he shook his head, still chuckling. “Alright, c’mon, let’s do a full lap. You’re not doing too bad.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I will hold this over your head forever if I fall.” “I won’t let you fall.”

You eyed him suspiciously but nodded, gripping his hands tighter as he led you forward. And, miraculously, you weren’t completely terrible. You still needed Jake’s help, but eventually, you started loosening your grip, even skating without his help. By the time you made it back to where you started, your legs were shaking, but you were upright. A miracle. Jake gave you a crooked grin. “Told you.” And just as he uttered that, a kid barreled into you, and suddenly, you were on your ass, the cold ice seeping through your jeans as you glared up at Jake.

His expression morphed from shock to amusement in a matter of seconds. “Oh my God.” “Don’t,” you warned, pointing a finger at him. Jake pressed his lips together like he was trying to hold back his laughter, but his shaking shoulders betrayed him. He crouched down in front of you, eyes way too bright. “Are you okay?” “No,” you huffed. Jake grinned. “You actually did great, right up until you got taken out by a four-year-old.” Your eyes narrowed. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t.”

Yes Jake. That was the problem. You forced a scoff, shoving away the warmth creeping into your chest. “Just help me up, Sim.” Jake smirked but obliged, easily pulling you to your feet like you weighed nothing. His hands stayed at your waist steadying you and making sure you had your balance before letting go. Jake arched a brow. “But really are you good?” You straightened, forcing an easy smirk. “Yeah. Just debating if I should throw you onto the ice.” He chuckled. “I’d like to see you try.” “Oh, you will.” Jake laughed, shaking his head as he started leading you forward again.

Jake was good with kids.

You weren’t sure why that surprised you, but it did.

At some point, after he had successfully gotten you to skate on your own for at least five seconds without clutching onto him for dear life, a group of kids had asked him to race them. And, of course, Jake being Jake, he hadn’t been able to resist.

So now you stood at the edge of the rink, watching as he lined up with a few kids, all of them grinning and buzzing with excitement.

“Alright,” Jake called out, pointing at the far end of the rink. “First one to the boards wins!”

The kids nodded eagerly and got into position.

You bit your lip as you watched him, your chest tightening. The way he fixed a kid’s helmet before skating backward into position, the way he still looked like the same boy who had probably spent hours at this rink, just because he loved it, everything about this made your heart clench.

He was so stupidly cute when he was excited.

And God, that made everything so much worse.

Because this, this, was what you were going to miss.

Him.

Jake.

His dumb competitive streak. His stupid grins. The way he looked at you sometimes. All the little acts of kindness.

A whistle blew, breaking you out of your thoughts. The kids shot forward, skating with all the energy in the world.

Jake let them win.

He didn’t make it too obvious. He still skated fast enough to keep them on their toes, but you could tell. He slowed down just enough to make sure one of them reached the boards first, throwing his hands up in mock defeat as they cheered.

You were going to miss him.

More than you were ready for.

Jake’s house is quiet when you step inside.

“I wanna show you something,” Jake says, tugging you toward the hallway.

You let yourself be pulled along, through the house and into his childhood bedroom. Hockey trophies line the shelves, medals hanging from hooks and different lego builds were scattered around the shelves.

Jake gestures toward them with a small, almost sheepish grin. “Told you I used to be good.”

You roll your eyes but step closer, trailing your fingers along the glossy wood of a championship trophy. “Used to be?” you echo, raising a brow. “Please. You still are.”

Jake chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. My dad doesn’t think so.”

Something in his voice makes you pause. But before you can press further, he flops onto his bed, stretching his arms above his head. “Ugh, I need a nap. Skating was a workout.”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “I’ve seen you sprint for sixty straight minutes. That wasn’t even close to a workout for you.”

Jake just grins, patting the empty space beside him. “C’mon. I know you’re tired too.”

You hesitate, but not because you aren’t tired.

Because you are. Because you know that lying down next to him, in this room, in this house that holds pieces of his childhood, pieces he’s willingly showing you, will only make everything worse.

You do it anyway.

You slip off your jacket and crawl into the space beside him. The bed dips as Jake shifts, his body instinctively curling around yours. His arms loop around your waist, his chest warm against your back, and the moment he exhales, fully relaxing into you, you feel your stomach twist again. Because this isn’t real, even if it felt real. It should’t be. In two days, this will be over. And you’ve already decided you have to let him go.

To protect your heart of what was going to come in the end.

Your throat tightens as you stare at the ceiling. Keeping him in your life after this would only be self-inflicted torture. Pretending to love him had been easy. At one point it probably wasn’t pretend. So pretending you didn’t would be impossible. And that was why you had to let him go. You have to go no contact. For your own sake.

And as he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin, you already feel sorry for it. Already grieving a friendship you haven’t even lost yet. You feel the weight of Jake’s arm around you, his steady breaths against the nape of your neck a lullaby you shouldn’t let yourself sink into.

But you do.

For just a moment.

You blink up at the ceiling, the familiar scent of his cologne clinging to the sheets, wrapping around you. Your fingers twitch against the fabric of his hoodie. You should have given it back. You should. But it smells like him. It feels like him. And soon, you won’t have any of him left. You press your lips together, ignoring the sting in your throat.

Jake doesn’t know yet. That, when you get off that plane, you’re cutting ties. You’ll ignore his texts. His calls. You’ll block his number if you have to. He doesn’t know that you’ll do the same to Jay. To Heeseung. To all of them.

Jay will know. Jay will see right through you. He’ll hear it in your voice, feel it in the way your texts grow shorter and shorter, until they eventually stop coming at all. He’ll know. And he won’t let you go without a fight.

But this is what’s best. For you, so you don’t destroy yourself in the process of loving Jake like you did with Marcus. For Jake, so he doesn’t have to be put in the awkward position of letting you down gently. So that he doesn’t have to be scrutinized by his father. So that he doesn’t have to break your heart.

Jake shifts behind you, his arm tightening, his nose brushing against your shoulder. Your chest ached as you swallowed down the lump in your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the warmth of Jake’s arm around you, on his hand resting against your stomach. ──────────────────────────Jake woke up slowly, blinking into darkness. His room was quiet, save for the steady rhythm of your breathing and the occasional soft sigh escaping your lips. He felt the warmth of your body pressed against his, your head tucked beneath his chin, your legs tangled with his beneath the blankets.

His arms were wrapped around you, holding you close.

A quick glance at his alarm clock told him it was nearly 11 p.m. He probably should wake you up, take you home. Jake exhaled softly, gaze flicking down to you, taking in the way your lashes fanned over your cheeks, the way your lips parted slightly with each slow, steady breath. You looked so soft like this, so unguarded. And fuck, he loved seeing you like this.

Because as much as he adored your quick wit and your stubborn streak, there was something about these rare, quiet moments that made his chest feel too full.

He’d always liked making you laugh, riling you up just to see you roll your eyes at him. But seeing you like this? Safe, peaceful, trusting him enough to just be, it did something to him.

Jake swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against your back, resisting the urge to smooth his hand over your hair.

He liked this.

He liked you.

He might even love you.

He has known that for weeks now.

He wasn’t sure when exactly things had shifted, when pretending had started feeling so much like something real, but he knew he wasn’t ready for it to end. Even after this week was over, even when you both got back home, he wanted this. Wanted you in his life just like this.

Because how could he go back to before?

He’d been thinking about it a lot, how things would go back to ‘normal’ once you got home. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he didn’t want normal. He didn’t want to go back to before.

He didn’t want to go back. He didn’t want this to change.

Carefully, he shifted, reluctantly pulling his arm from beneath you. “Hey,” he murmured, voice low and soft as he nudged your shoulder. “Y/N, wake up.”

You stirred slightly, your brows scrunching in mild annoyance before your eyes fluttered open. A sleepy frown pulled at your lips. “What?”

“It’s late,” he said gently. “Do you want me to take you home?”

You blinked, still half-asleep, before shifting against him, rubbing at your eyes. “Do you have a spare toothbrush?”

Jake’s brows lifted slightly. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you mumbled, already nestling back into him. “Then I’ll just stay.”

And just like that, you were asleep again, your breath evening out, completely unbothered.

Jake let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. His chest felt warm, something almost giddy curling in his stomach at how easily you had decided to stay.

Because that meant something, right? You wanted to stay.

Jake had never been a fan of long flights. Too much time to think. And right now, thinking was the last thing he wanted to do. Especially when you were sitting right next to him, head bent over your notebook, highlighter in hand as you studied whatever notes you had stuffed into your carry-on. Jake didn’t even pretend to be interested in anything else. He just…watched you.

The way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you chewed on your bottom lip when you were focused, the way you absently twirled your pen between your fingers before underlining something on the page. God, you were so fucking cute. He had the urge to reach out and tuck that one loose strand of hair behind your ear. You must have felt his gaze because you suddenly nudged him with your elbow, not even looking up from your notes. “Stop staring.” Jake smirked. “Not staring.”

You huffed, eyes flicking toward him, unimpressed. “Go to sleep or something.” Jake stretched his legs out, completely unbothered. “Not tired.” You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue further, going back to your notes. And Jake went back to watching you. He didn’t know how much time passed, maybe an hour, maybe two, when you spoke to him again.

“What are we going to tell our friends?” Jake blinked, pulled from his thoughts. He turned his head slightly, noting the way you were still looking down at your notes, your fingers lightly tapping against the page. “About what?” You still didn’t look at him. Just kept tapping your pen. "About our breakup. The wedding is over, right? No need for us to be fake dating anymore."

His stomach dropped. The song playing in his ears–one of your favorites–turned into nothing but static. For a second, he thought maybe he misheard you. Maybe he had dozed off, lost in the lull of the plane, and imagined it. But then you finally looked at him. Waiting. Expecting an answer. Jake forced his face to stay neutral. "What?"

You exhaled, glancing down at your notes like this was just some minor inconvenience to get through. “I mean, we should probably have a story, right? You didn’t want to tell them we were faking all of this. So like, maybe we had a mutual breakup? Or—” His head spun. Because what the fuck? Jake should have known this was coming. He wasn’t stupid. He knew the plan had always been to end things after the wedding.

But hearing you say it fucking sucked.

For a brief second, he considered arguing. Because if this was how you saw it, the whole situation still being you and him fake dating, then he didn't have much say in this. If you weren't feeling the same way he did for you, which you obviously didn't, then there was nothing to argue about. He didn't have to fight for a fake relationship, even if it broke his heart.

Jake felt his fingers tighten around your phone. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. “Sure.”

And he hated how hollow that one word felt in his chest.

You hesitated. Just a fraction of a second. Then you nodded slightly.

Jake swallowed, staring out at the dark sky stretching endlessly outside the window.

Then, carefully, he asked, “We’ll still see each other, though, right?”

Another pause. Longer this time.

Then you nodded again. “Yeah. Of course.”

Jake exhaled slowly. “Good.”

Silence settled between you again.

Then you spoke, softer this time. “Should we say it was mutual?”

Jake turned to look at you, something unreadable flashing across your face.

You met his gaze, biting your lip. “Like… should we say we had a reason?”

Jake had to bite back a humorless laugh. There was no reason for this to happen. At all. Not even two days ago, you had woken up in his arms. Stayed for breakfast. Laughed at the way he threw himself into the pool. Stayed until your mom called you to come home.

You looked happy.

He just shrugged, like his heart wasn’t actively splintering inside his chest. “I guess mutual sounds good.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

And just like that, it was decided.

Jake turned back toward the window, shoving his headphones deeper into his ears, but he wasn’t listening to the music anymore. Why? He just didn't understand why.

You had to be a really good actor. That was the only explanation. Maybe he had been an idiot from the very start. But he knew. He knew the second he kissed you in that bar. The way you had responded to him, the way your fingers had twisted into the fabric of his shirt, the way your breath had hitched just before he pulled away. That hadn't been fake. And neither had the way you looked at him at the wedding, standing so close, your eyes flickering down to his lips. He had felt it, that moment stretching between you, the way your body leaned into his just a fraction before he kissed you.

Jake kept his eyes locked on the window, the reflection of you flickering in the glass. You had gone back to your notes, highlighter in hand, looking like this conversation had already left your mind. He wanted to laugh. Because that was it. All of it. Over, just like that. He should've seen it coming. He'd let himself believe, for just a second, that this wouldn't end. That maybe, when you got home, you'd still be his somehow.

It has been six days since Jake and you arrived at home. Six days since you last saw each other. Six days since you asked him to fake break up. Six days spent trying to dodge Jake at all costs. Which was harder than you anticipated.

You stared at the screen of your Ipad, you were at least ten pages behind your professor in the script. At the beginning of the class you still were paying attention, knowing that this professor likes to ask random students questions during the class to check if you were paying attention but at some point our mind wandered away from nerve damage and to the damage you have done.

Your phone is heavy in your hand, when you pick it up to check the time. Your heart stops for a second when you read over Jake's most recent message from last night.

Jakeyboy 11:08 am: Hey Y/N! Do you wanna go for fried chicken today? We should celebrate that we survived last week! Jakeyboy 09:29 pm: So…no fried chicken then?

No. No fried chicken. And definitely not in that small restaurant you had your first date-not-date in almost 4 months ago now. That felt like a lifetime now.

You read it immediately. Almost replied. Almost said, Yeah, okay, let’s go. But instead, you locked your phone, flipped it over, and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in your chest.

It’s been only six days but you miss him. God, you miss him. You didn’t realize how much time you and Jake spent together and spent texting until you stopped. Or at least tried to.

Your name being called cut through your thoughts. Your head snapped up. Your professor was staring at you expectantly.

“I am sorry, Professor Kim. I didn’t catch that, could you repeat that question?”

Your professor sighed but repeated his question. You answered the question and he moved on.

You let out a breath when he went back to the slides and closed your eyes. This can’t continue like this. You had to get a grip. That thing between you and Jake was fake and you shouldn’t be as weird about this as you were.

Your phone vibrated again.

Jakeyboy Are you coming on Friday?

Jake had the Providence Regional this weekend. If they won, they’ll be headed to the Frozen Four. This was important to him. If you don’t go, he wouldn’t spend the whole game wondering why you weren’t sitting in the stands cheering on him, wondering what he did wrong. You refused to be the reason he’s distracted.

Before you can overthink it, your hand moves toward your phone.

You unlock it. Open your chat with Jake.

You type quickly.

Y/N I am sorry I was swarmed with work yesterday :( Prof Hwang wanted me to hand in my essay until yesterday instead of Friday so i had to focus and i banned my phone to the kitchen I’ll be at your game tomorrow! I promise!!!

And then, before you could second-guess yourself, you locked your phone, flipped it over again, and tried to pretend you didn’t feel relief washing over you. ──────────────────────────Jake leaned against the wall outside the locker room, one foot tapping against the floor, hands gripping his phone way too tight. The screen was blank. No notifications. No texts from you.

He checked the time. Five minutes until he had to start getting ready.

You weren’t coming.

He knew it, but he still kept glancing up every time someone walked by, heart jumping for half a second before sinking again. Maybe you got held up. Maybe you forgot. Maybe–

Beomguy came running in, just barely making it around the curve to almost crash into Jake.

"Dude. What are you still doing out here?"

Jake shoved his phone into his pocket. "Nothing."

Beomgyu gave him a once-over. "Right. So you’re just lurking outside the locker room like a lost puppy for no reason?"

Jake rolled his eyes, pushing off the wall. "Shut up."

Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed. "Where is Y/N?”

Jake didn’t answer.

Beomgyu whistled low. "Damn. She’s always here." He shifted, lowering his voice. "Did you guys fight or something?"

"No," Jake muttered, jaw tightening. "She’s just busy."

Beomgyu studied him for a second, like he didn’t quite believe it, but he let it go. "We gotta get changed before Coach loses his shit."

Jake nodded, but even as he followed Beomgyu inside, he couldn’t shake the disappointment curling in his chest. The question lingered, gnawing at the edge of Jake’s thoughts even as he stood and grabbed his helmet.

Had you fought?

No.

But it sure as hell felt like he was losing you anyway.

You’d promised to come.

You knew how important that game was.

And that, more than anything, fucking hurt.

Jake tried to shake off the gnawing disappointment clawing at his chest. The game was happening around him, sticks clashing, skates cutting across the ice, the sharp echo of the puck ricocheting off the boards, but his mind wasn’t in it.

You weren’t there.

Not outside the locker room before warm-ups. Not by the tunnel where you always wished him luck. Not even a last-minute text. Just silence.

He told himself it was fine. You had school, you were busy—but damn, it stung. More than he wanted to admit.

Then he spotted you sitting down next to Sunghoon.

Jake barely processed the wave of relief that crashed over him. His chest felt lighter, and before he could stop himself, a stupid, lopsided grin tugged at his lips.

The second the puck dropped again, he forced himself to focus, taking long strides, chasing it down along the boards. He caught a pass cleanly, shifted his weight to turn–

And then he got crushed.

Pain exploded through his side as he slammed into the boards, hard enough to make his teeth clack together. His helmet rattled. Someone shouted. He barely heard it over the ringing in his ears.

Jake hit the ice but pushed himself up immediately, shaking it off. His ribs screamed in protest, but whatever. Pain was part of the game. He took a deep breath, forced his focus back, and skated after the play.

As he lined up for the next face-off, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at you.

And for some reason, the ache in his chest hurt worse than the hit.

Jake exhaled, flexed his grip on his stick, and forced himself to look forward. He’d deal with everything else, you, after the game. ──────────────────────────The cool night air wrapped around Jake as he stepped out of the rink, scanning the small crowd until his eyes landed on you. You stood near Sunghoon and one of the guys’ girlfriends, leaning against the railing. Your shoulders were slumped, and there were faint bags under your eyes, like you hadn’t been sleeping much, and your hair, normally styled with some effort, was lazily pulled back, like you just hadn’t cared today. When you spotted him, you smiled. “Congrats,” you murmured, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around him.

Jake barely hesitated before hugging you back, pulling you in closer. He inhaled the familiar scent of you and suddenly, the ache in his ribs wasn’t the thing making it hard to breathe. You held onto him a second longer than usual, and when you spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “Are you okay?” Jake exhaled against your hair, feeling his chest tighten. He knew you weren’t just asking about the hit.

“Yeah,” he muttered, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, eyes searching his like you didn’t believe him. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face as well and he whispered back, “Are you?” For a second, he thought you wouldn’t answer. Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Then, finally, you nodded. Jake didn’t believe that either. But he let you lie. Just like you let him. ────────────────────────── You were standing next to Jay and Yeonjun at the bar, sipping on your second sex on the beach when the DJ played his third Katy Perry song of the evening. Usually the hockey team celebrated with fried chicken or at the small bar near the rink but today they decided to go to the club. A decision you weren’t too enthusiastic about but went along nonetheless. It was nice to see the others.

It was however not nice to see Jake dancing with another girl. She was way too close for it to be friendly dancing. You swallowed and took another sip, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

Beomgyu wrapped his arms around your and Yeonjuns shoulder shouting “Katy shots everyone! Yeonjun hyung is paying!”

Everyone meant you, him, Jay and Yeonjun since you were pretty sure none of the other players heard what he just said.

Yeonjun just rolled his eyes, but motioned to the bartender ordering four shots. He was already slurring his words and you knew he should probably stop soon. But you didn’t really care. Maybe another shot would help you forget what you just saw.

You drowned your already half empty sex on the beach and took the shot, laughing at Beomgyu who was trying to get you to dance with him.

He turned the two of you and you were happy to not see Jake anymore.

But that also meant Beomgyu did.

“Damn Y/N. You let Jake get flirted with by other girls? I know you are chill, but this chill?”, his hands grasped your shoulders and he turned you back towards the bar, to Jay and Yeonjuns gazes were following where Beomgyu was now pointing.

“Oh yeah. Why not?”, you asked, ignoring the hot disgusting feeling in your veins when you watched her grasp Jake's biceps.

“Because he is your boyfriend?”, Beomgyu asked bewildered.

Fuck.

“Didn’t he tell you?” You tilted your head, feigning mild surprise. “We broke up.”

The second the words left your mouth, the entire table went silent. Oh, it seems like there were more of his team at the bar than you thought.

“You… what?” Sunghoon blinked at you, beer bottle paused halfway to his lips. Where did he come from? You swore he wasn’t at the bar two seconds ago. Or maybe you were just really drunk already. Probably.

“We broke up,” you repeated, keeping your voice light. You even forced a small, casual shrug, ignoring the tight knot forming in your stomach. “Just realized we were better off as friends.”

More silence. Or well as silent as a full club could be with the music and conversations bouncing from the walls.

“Since when?” Jay demanded, looking between you and Jake like he was waiting for one of you to jump up and yell ‘gotcha!’

You felt the heat of Jake’s stare from across the room. You knew he was watching you. But you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, not when that girl was practically draping herself over him.

She was giggling at something he said, pressing a manicured hand to his bicep.

Your jaw clenched.

“A couple days after the wedding,” you answered smoothly, taking a slow sip of your drink. “We just didn’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Bullshit.” Heeseung scoffed, narrowing his eyes. “There’s no way you two just broke up and didn’t say anything. He would have told us.”

You rolled your eyes, waving a dismissive hand. “What do you want me to say? It just didn’t work out. We’re still friends.”

Lies.

You wanted it to work out.

You wanted him. Wanted him to love you. To not be talking to a random girl in a club.

But you were scared.

Jay crossed his arms, studying you carefully. “You’re telling me you guys just… mutually decided to go back to being friends?”

“Yep.”

An arm suddenly draped over your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” one of Nicolas slurred, his grin sloppy from too many drinks. “So that means you’re single now?”

Your stomach twisted.

“I mean, technically, yeah,” you said, and smiled at him.

The guy let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn.” He glanced toward Jake, then back at you, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Guess that means EJ has a chance now, if you let him.”

You forced a laugh.

“Yeah,” you said, ignoring the sudden, unbearable heat crawling up your neck. “Guess so.”

──────────────────────────

The walk back to your apartment felt both too long and not long enough. The world was spinning slightly.

Jake walked beside you, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his head tilted slightly downward. He insisted on walking you home. After he finally got rid of that girl and came back to the bar to drink a Katy shot he realized how drunk you were getting and forbade you to drink your Katy shot. That was fine with you. The alcohol didn’t help you forget. It made everything worse. So stopping was definitely the more clever thing to do.

Now you were here. Alone.

You should have said something. Cracked a joke. Made fun of him for how he had let some girl hang all over him at the party.

But you didn’t.

“I’m glad you came tonight,” he murmured, breaking the silence.

You exhaled, your breath curling in the cold night air. That wasn’t what you expected him to say. Your heart clenched.

“I’m sorry I was late,” you whispered into the dark. “I should have been there to wish you good luck before you went on the ice.”

Jake slowed down slightly, tilting his head toward you. “It’s okay.”

It wasn’t.

You had spent almost an hour trying to talk yourself into going at all. Sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at your phone, watching the minutes disappear. You had almost bailed. But you had gone anyway. You had forced yourself to get dressed, to push through the nausea curling in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, eyes trained on the sidewalk.

Jake huffed a small laugh, shaking his head. “I mean it. It was just a game.”

Just a game.

You bit your lip, arms wrapping around yourself. You should have been there. From the start.

“I still should have been there. I promised after all.” you said, your voice quieter now.

Jake glanced at you again, his expression shifting into something softer.

“Hey,” he said after a beat, nudging you lightly with his elbow. “You still showed up.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t know how to.

He slowed down slightly, looking at you with an earnest expression. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed, fighting to keep your mind clear. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, but the lie felt bitter as it left your mouth. It tasted awful. Felt even worse.

Jake didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, his face softened in that way he did when he was being gentle with you, like he could tell something was off but didn’t know how to ask. He always did that when he realized you had a hard day in the lab. He knew he had to wait for you to open up. Which you did. Always.

But today you continued to walk to your apartment in silence.

When you reached your building, you turned to hug him goodbye. When you wrapped your arms around his torso he stiffened. It was small, almost imperceptible, but you felt it in the way his muscles tensed beneath your arms, the way his breath caught just slightly.

You pulled back, blinking up at him. “Jake?”

He forced a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You flinched.”

“It’s fine,” he muttered.

Your chest ached. A deep, gnawing, ugly ache. Because of course he was hurt. YOu saw him get hurt.

You crossed your arms, ignoring the slight sway in your vision. “Let me check.”

Jake exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “I don’t think–”

“Please Jake.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you hated how raw your voice sounded.

Jake hesitated. He watched you carefully, like he was trying to read something on your face. But then, finally, he sighed, giving in with a tired nod.

You led him inside, neither of you speaking. The silence was thick, pressing down on you, and you wondered if he could feel it too.

Your bathroom was dimly lit, a single overhead bulb casting long shadows against the tiled walls. The space was small. When Jake leaned back against the sink, you had no choice but to step between his legs, your knees brushing against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Take it off,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

He swallowed. Then, slowly, he pulled his tshirt over his head, the fabric ruffling his already-messy hair.

Your breath caught.

Jake was warm. His skin golden under the dim light, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. The bruises were already starting to bloom across his ribs, dark and violent against his skin.

You reached out, your fingertips grazing the swollen area. Jake hissed, his body jerking back, before relaxing under your touch. “Jesus, your hands are cold.”

“Sorry,” you murmured, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you let your fingers trace lightly over the bruises, moving carefully, feeling the way his stomach tensed beneath your touch. The dim light illuminated the way his chest rose and fell, making him look almost vulnerable in that moment. You gently probed his side, checking for any fractures. You didn’t realize you were swaying slightly until his hands found your hips, steadying you. The warmth of his palms burned through the fabric of your top, making your head spin more. Your heart pounded, your pulse a steady, traitorous rhythm in your throat. As your hands ran over the bruise, you felt his body stiffen and his eyes tighten, but you continued, feeling for anything that seemed off. You pulled your hand back slightly, a slight frown pulling at your lips as you looked at him. He was fine, no broken ribs, just bruising.

He was watching you. You could feel it. The weight of his gaze pressing into you, heavy and unreadable. Like he was waiting for something. For you to say something. To do something.

You couldn’t.

And then, his fingers moved-just slightly, just enough to brush under the hem of your top, to touch the bare skin of your waist. His touch was light, but it sent a sharp shiver up your spine.

Something inside you snapped.

Before you could stop yourself, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his.

Jake froze. Just for a second. But then he was kissing you back.

And fuck, it was good.

Too good. Too much.

His hand slid from your waist, up, fingertips ghosting over your ribs, over your side, up to the base of your neck. And when his fingers pressed against your skin, when his thumb dragged over the column of your throat, you shuddered. A small, broken sound escaped you.

Jake made a noise low in his throat, something between a groan and a sigh, and it made your stomach twist painfully.

You didn’t even notice you were crying until Jake pulled back, his brows furrowing.

His hands gently cupped your face, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, “Why are you crying?”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to answer. You didn’t want to talk.

So you kissed him again.

This time, he was gentler. Softer.

And it only made you cry harder.

Because it felt like grief.

Because you were mourning something you never really had. Something you couldn’t have.

The moment your lips left his, Jake didn’t pull you back. Instead, his hands found your face again, holding it with just enough space between you that he could see your face.

Tears clung to your lashes, slipping down your cheeks silently.

“Hey,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t answer.

Jake’s thumb stroked over your wet cheek “Y/N.” His voice was firmer now, but still careful.

Instead of answering you hiccuped, shook your head and pressed your face against his bare chest.

And then, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the sound of his heartbeat against your ear, you choked out, "I’m so sorry."

Jake stiffened, but it only lasted a second. Then, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in without a second thought. No hesitation. No questions. Just warmth.

His hands ran soothingly up and down your back, gentle, steady. “Hey,” he said again, quieter this time. “Why are you –”

"I’m sorry," you interrupted, voice barely working through the lump in your throat. "I’m so sorry."

Jake’s fingers curled slightly into the fabric of your hoodie, his grip tightening. “Why are you saying that?”

But you just shook your head again, screwing your eyes shut, pressing your forehead harder against his collarbone.

Because you shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be in his arms.

You should have gone no contact. You had gone no contact.

And now you had ruined it.

“I am sorry Jake.”

Jake exhaled slowly, resting his chin lightly against the top of your head. His chest rose and fell against you, his heartbeat strong, steady, the only sound in the dimly lit bathroom.

“You don’t have to –” he started, then stopped himself, like he wasn’t sure what to say. He tried again. “Whatever’s going on, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

That made your chest ache.

You sucked in a shaky breath, but it didn’t help. It just made the tears come harder, your fingers gripping onto him.

Jake didn’t move. Didn’t push for answers. Didn’t ask you to stop crying.

He just held you, warm and quiet and safe.

And you hated yourself for wanting to stay.

──────────────────────────Jake stared at the black screen of his phone. He tapped it. Nothing. No messages, no missed calls. Just the same empty notifications that had been there five minutes ago.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before letting the screen fade back to black.

The day after the game, after the party, after you kissed him and broke down he thought you were just tired and wanted to be left alone. Maybe something had happened in the lab. He didn’t know. You apologized over and over again and didn’t stop hiccuping until you felt asleep. You never told him what you were apologizing for and he didn’t know what you could be apologizing for. What he did know was that it broke his heart.

By the second day, he was uneasy.

By the fourth, when his messages were still left on read, when every TikTok he sent remained unopened, when you hadn’t even sent him a half-assed meme in return, something inside him twisted tightly.

You never cried. He had never seen you cry, not once. And now, not only had he seen it, but you were pushing him away.

And worst of all, he had no idea why

It didn’t make sense. Nothing had happened, right? At least, nothing bad.

He scrolled through your chat again.

Jake Hey, how’s your day? Jake Y/N? Jake Are you okay?

No reply.

The worst part? It wasn’t just him.

He hoped you might be studying with your friends in the empty classroom you preferred to use, but your friends told him you didn’t answer their texts. Chaewon was looking as worried as Jake felt, when he told them that you weren’t answering his either.

Sunghoon had told him you skipped out on lunch with him.

If this was just about the kiss, why were you avoiding everyone?

It made him feel sick.

And now, Jay was standing in front of him in the rink’s locker room, arms crossed, staring at him like he was a fucking criminal.

“What did you do?”

Jake looked up, brows furrowing. “What?”

Jay huffed, shifting his weight like he was trying to stay patient. “Y/N. She’s avoiding all of us. So, what did you do?”

Jake exhaled sharply, leaning against the bench behind him. “I don’t know.” His voice was hoarse, tired. Defeated. “She just… stopped answering me. I don’t get it.”

Jay narrowed his eyes, like he was trying to decide whether Jake was lying or just stupid. “You don’t get it? You two were practically glued together at the hip a week ago. Now she won’t even look at you? I know you broke up, but she said you were still friends? That you ended it mutually?”

Jake dragged a hand down his face. “Yeah I thought so, too.”

Jay’s expression softened, just slightly. “Did something happen at the wedding? Or after?”

Jake hesitated. He thought about telling Jay the truth. About the kiss. About the way you had melted against him one second, only to shut him out completely the next.

“I–” Jake’s throat tightened. “I really don’t know.”

Jay studied him for a moment before shaking his head. “Well, whatever it is, you need to fix it.”

Jake let out a humorless laugh, hollow and bitter. “Yeah? How am I supposed to do that when she won’t even talk to me?”

Jay sighed. “Figure it out.”

Jake swallowed hard, staring at the unread messages on his screen.

He just wished he knew what he did wrong.

────────────────────────── Your hands were shaking.

You made a mistake.

You don’t make mistakes.

Mistakes mean carelessness. A lack of control.

Yet here you were, standing over a decomposed body in the forensic taphonomy lab, staring at the mistake you just made.

Your pulse roared in your ears as you tried to correct your mistake, but it was too late. A single misstep in this field could mean an entire case being thrown out in the real world. You couldn’t make mistakes. The stakes were too high for mistakes. You knew better. And yet, today, you made a mistake.

Your professor’s voice cut through the haze. “Y/N.”

You flinched.

Professor Kim, looked at you with something close to concern. He rarely stepped in during labs unless absolutely necessary, but now, he gently pulled off his gloves and nodded toward the door.

“Step outside with me.”

Shame crept up your spine as you followed him into the dimly lit hallway, away from the smell of decay and chemicals. The second the door shut behind you, he sighed.

“What’s going on? You’ve been off the whole week.”

You stared at the floor, hands balled into fists. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with him, not with anyone.

But Professor Kim knew you too well. He had seen you excel, seen you obsess over every little detail until it was perfect. And now he saw you fail.

“I don’t make mistakes,” you murmured, voice tight.

He exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. “No, you don’t. Which is why I’m asking what’s wrong.”

You swallowed hard. The lump in your throat was unbearable.

You wanted to tell him everything. That you kissed Jake. That you regret it. That you regret giving him hope. That you can’t stop thinking about the way his hands felt on your skin, the way his voice broke when he asked what was going on.

That you can’t even focus on yourself anymore.

But you can’t say any of that.

You should lie. Say you’re fine. Say you’re just stressed, that it won’t happen again.

But your throat feels tight, and before you can stop yourself, the truth slips out.

“I don’t know.”

Professor Kim nods, like he expected that answer. “Take the rest of the day off.”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“You’re not helping anyone in this state. Not yourself, not your peers, and certainly not whoever’s lying on that table.” His voice is firm, but there’s something gentle underneath it. “I won’t mark you for today. But, Y/N… get your head together.”

His words cut deeper than they should. You nod stiffly, barely managing a choked-out “Thank you” before walking away.

Because the truth is, you don’t know how to fix this.

How to fix yourself. ──────────────────────────You didn’t go to class the next day. Or the day after. It didn’t even feel like a decision. You just couldn’t. The exhaustion seeped into your bones, weighing you down like an anchor, making everything feel distant and dull. You woke up, stared at your ceiling, and the idea of getting dressed, walking outside, pretending you were fine—it was unbearable. So you didn’t. You called your doctor, told him you were feeling like shit—physically, mentally, you didn’t even clarify, and he didn’t ask. He just signed off on an excuse for the rest of the week. No questions. No judgment. You should have felt relieved. You felt nothing. The days blurred. You ignored texts, ignored missed calls, ignored the quiet ache in your chest every time you saw Jake’s name light up your screen. You thought about answering, about saying sorry, I just need time, but even that felt like too much effort.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there. The sky had been soft and golden when you first stepped outside, the sun dipping lazily toward the horizon. You watched it set, watched the world shift from warm orange to dusky purple, then fade into black. Now, only the distant glow of the city lights kept you company.

It wasn’t particularly cold, but it wasn’t warm either. The kind of in-between temperature that should have been comfortable but somehow wasn’t.

Your fingers fumbled with the cigarette between them.

You didn’t usually hesitate. But now, you just stared at it. The lighter sat beside you, untouched. It was stupid—after everything, this was what made you pause? You had been craving the nicotine all day, the mindless comfort of smoke filling your lungs, but for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to light it.

Maybe because you knew Jake would hate it. Maybe because, for the first time in weeks, you didn’t want to disappoint him any more than you already had. Or maybe, deep down, you knew it wouldn’t actually make you feel any better. You squeezed your eyes shut, tilting your head back against the wall, exhaling shakily.

You just needed one second to breathe.

Just one.

You exhaled slowly, staring at the cigarette pinched between your fingers.

Then, before you could think about it any longer, you flicked the lighter. The flame danced in the dark, small and fleeting. You brought it to the end of the cigarette, inhaling deeply as the ember caught, glowing softly in the night.

The first drag burned.

It was sharp in your throat, settling heavy in your lungs. You held it in for a second, like it would make a difference, like it would calm the storm in your chest.

It didn’t.

You let the smoke slip past your lips, watching it curl into the air, disappearing into nothing. The taste lingered—bitter, stale, wrong. You waited for it to do something, to ease the tension in your body, to make you feel anything other than this crushing weight of regret.

Your phone sat beside you, screen dark. You hadn’t checked it in hours. You didn’t need to. You already knew.

Jake played the Frozen Four today.

And you weren’t there.

You never went to away games—traveling was too much, and he understood that. But you always texted him. Always. Even when you were too busy, too tired, too overwhelmed with school, you always managed to send him something. A dumb joke. A simple You got this. A reminder that he wasn’t alone. Because he deserved support. Because his family wouldn’t give it to him. And you swore you would. Even if you weren’t currently in the midst of fake dating. You were—you are—friends. And friends support each other.

But you didn’t.

You let the entire day slip through your fingers, drowning in your own mess, spiraling so deep into yourself that you forgot about him. A sharp inhale stung your throat as you brought the cigarette to your lips again.

You took another drag.

The weight in your chest didn’t lift. The guilt didn’t ease. You exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the air before vanishing into the night.

Jake’s voice echoed in your head, uninvited.

"You know that shit’s bad for you, right?"

He never scolded, never judged. He just looked at you with that quiet concern, the kind that made you feel seen in a way that was almost unbearable. "Seriously, Y/N."

Your stomach twisted painfully. You should have wished him good luck. The least you could have done was let him know you were thinking of him. That you still cared, even if you were trying so damn hard to stop.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pressed the cigarette into the brick ledge, snuffing it out before you even finished.

It didn’t fix anything.

And now, you regretted another thing. ────────────────────────── Winning should feel better than this.

The crowd was roaring. His teammates were celebrating, their cheers echoing off the locker room walls, but Jake just sat there, hunched forward on the bench, elbows on his knees, staring at his phone. The screen stayes dark. No messages. No missed calls. At least not from you. Instead, his dad called.

"Congratulations, son. I heard you won."

Jake didn’t answer right away. Just gripped his phone so tight he thought it might crack.

Because he knew his dad hadn’t watched the game. He never watched.

"I’ve been thinking," his dad continued, voice calm, detached, businesslike–just like always. "I’ll be transferring to the satellite office in Seoul. I want to be closer to my family. Closer to you."

Jake’s blood turned to ice. His dad didn’t do things like that. He didn’t just decide to be around. He didn’t care about being close to Jake.

"We should have dinner tomorrow. Just the two of us. Catch up."

Jake felt sick. His dad never just did things for him. There was always a catch. A reason. A way it benefited him more than Jake. This was exactly why it all started, wasn’t it? The fake dating. The whole fucking mess.

Because of him.

Because Jake had wanted, for once, to have some kind of control. To be able to tell his dad: Look, see? I have something good. I don’t need you to approve of me, because I’m happy without it. And you had gone along with it. Had agreed just to piss off Marcus. And now? Now you weren’t even speaking to him.

Maybe he could call you. Maybe he could try to explain how much this sucked, how it was making his skin crawl, how the last thing he wanted was to sit down and have dinner with the one man who had never once supported him. But he knew you wouldn’t pick up. You barely even answered his texts. When you did, it was short, vague, nothing like the way you used to talk to him before. Before you kissed him in you dimly lit bathroom. Before you cried against his chest. Before everything changed.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching so hard it hurt. You had promised to be there. Not just for this game–for him. You had promised to be supportive, because his family wasn’t. But you hadn’t even wished him good luck. And fuck, it hurt.

Jake swallowed back the instinct to refuse his dads invitation. Because he couldn’t refuse. Not without making it worse. So he said yes. And now he was sitting here, in the locker room, watching his teammates lose their minds in celebration while he felt like absolute shit.

He played like absolute shit.

The first period had been a disaster. He was still skating around like a ghost, head stuck somewhere else. Then he spotted an opening, a clean pass heading his way, and suddenly he was laying on the ice, unable to breath. The hit came from his blind spot, full force, slamming him into the boards.

Pain exploded through his ribs. His vision blurred at the edges, and he collapsed onto the ice. He managed to push himself up, wincing hard, gripping his stick like it was the only thing keeping him upright. His entire side throbbed in time with his heartbeat. His ribs, still sore from last week, felt like they had been lit on fire. He skated off during intermission, barely making it to the locker room before leaning against the wall, eyes squeezed shut.

"CC, I can’t," he admitted, voice tight, breath shallow. "It hurts too much to breathe." The Coach barely questioned it. Just eyed him, saw the ice pack he pressed to his ribs, and nodded. Jake was benched. And the worst part? He was relieved.

He couldn’t keep playing like this. Not when he was this distracted, this fucking miserable.

He overheard Chaewon and Yujin talk yesterday. You weren't coming to class. Or to study meetings. Or anywhere. Jake had only half-heard it at the time. But now, the words echo in his head, over and over. You weren't just avoiding him. You were avoiding everyone.

And he had no idea why.

His fingers tighten around his phone. His stomach twists. He misses you. So much it’s physically painful now. ────────────────────────── Jake sat stiffly in his chair, barely touching the wine glass in front of him. He should’ve expected this. The pristine, dimly lit private dining room. The carefully curated silence. His father sitting across from him, impeccable as always, as if he hadn’t just summoned Jake here to systematically dismantle him. He should’ve expected it, but it still made his stomach churn.

“You’re quiet.” His father’s voice was as sharp as ever, but there was an air of disinterest to it, like he wasn’t particularly concerned about the answer. Jake forced a shrug, fingers tracing the stem of his glass. “Just tired.” His father hummed as if that was an acceptable excuse, but they both knew it wasn’t. They made small talk, if you could even call it that. His father updated him on the company’s numbers, on his brother’s continued excellence, on things that were supposed to matter to him but never had. Jake responded when necessary, nodding at all the right times, murmuring an occasional “hmm” or “sounds great” even though none of it registered. He felt disconnected. Like he was watching himself from the outside, just waiting for the inevitable shift in conversation.

“Y/N,” his father said, casually cutting into his steak. “Marcus’ father had plenty to say about her. And after seeing her at the wedding myself, I can’t say I disagree.” Jake’s jaw locked, but he said nothing. “She’s… bleak,” his father continued. “Certainly not the kind of woman I expected you to be involved with.” He set his knife down with a soft clink. “You could do better. You already have done better.”

Jake stared blankly at the table. There was something almost funny about it, really. His father didn’t even say it cruelly. Just plainly. Like it was a fact. Like he wasn’t talking about the person his son is in love with, at least in a fake way for his father.

“She’s not a good fit for you,” his father continued, taking a sip of wine. “Especially not considering your future.”

Jake exhaled slowly, exhaustion creeping in at the edges of his mind. He was so tired of this conversation. So tired of being told what he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to want.

“And I am not talking about hockey. Hockey isn’t a future, Jaeyun.” His father finally met his gaze. “It’s a distraction. A temporary indulgence. You always knew that.”

Jake swallowed, his throat dry.

“I let you have this because your mother insisted. But you’re not a child anymore. It’s time to stop pretending this is something you can build a life around.”

His father spoke like it was obvious, like Jake should be grateful for being allowed to chase a dream that was never meant to be permanent. Jake felt… hollow. He should be angry. He should feel something. But all he could think about was how small he felt sitting here.

“You will take over the Seoul branch,” his father continued smoothly. “That’s non-negotiable. You’re a Sim. It’s your responsibility.” Jake forced himself to breathe. “And if I don’t?” His voice came out quieter than he intended. His father’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Then I will cut you off.” There it was. So simple. So matter-of-fact. Jake just… nodded. Not because he agreed. Not because he was backing down. But because he suddenly felt too drained to keep going in circles. His father sighed, picking up his knife again, as if this entire conversation had been a minor inconvenience. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but you’ll understand in time. You have too much potential to waste on something so fleeting.”

Jake didn’t respond.

Because what was the point? His father had already decided who he was, what his life should be. There was no convincing him otherwise. Jake pushed his chair back, standing on legs that felt unsteady beneath him.

His father barely glanced up. “Where are you going?” Jake’s voice was quiet, almost empty. “Home.” He turned and walked out.

The restaurant doors shut behind him, but the world outside didn’t feel any lighter. The streets buzzed with life, but it all blurred together. He felt like he was moving through static, like nothing was real. He exhaled shakily, pressing his fingers to his temples. His hands felt cold.

And all he could think about was how much he wanted to see you. Because somehow, you were the only thing that had ever made all of this feel bearable. And whatever Jakes dad wanted, it was never Jake’s happiness. It was control. Molding Jake into the perfect heir, and in his father’s eyes, you didn’t fit into that equation. His mind felt foggy, his body running on autopilot as he walked without thinking. Step after step, streetlight after streetlight, but it didn’t make him feel any less numb.

He knew Jay and Heeseung would be at the dorm when he got back. Knew they were probably waiting, wanting to ask how dinner had gone, if his dad had finally backed off, if the conversation had been tolerable for once. It wasn’t. It never was. But he didn’t have the energy to talk about it.

So when he finally reached their building, when he stepped through the door and saw them sitting on the couch, their heads turning toward him immediately—he ignored them.

“Jake–” Jay started, already pushing off the couch, but Jake didn’t stop.

Didn’t look at them. Didn’t acknowledge Heeseung’s furrowed brows, the concern etched into his face. Didn’t say a word. He just kept walking. Straight past them, down the hall, into his room. The door shut behind him with a quiet click.

And finally, finally, he let himself breathe.

He didn’t turn the light on. Just stood there in the dark, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket before he slowly peeled it off. His movements were sluggish, detached, like his body wasn’t fully connected to his mind. His dad’s words echoed in his head, looping endlessly.

Hockey isn’t a future, Jaeyun. You’re not a child anymore. You have no choice.

Jake swallowed against the lump in his throat and let himself collapse onto the bed. He barely managed to toe off his shoes before pressing his face into the pillow, shutting his eyes like it would make everything disappear. But it didn’t. He felt like a fucking failure. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he worked, it was never enough. His brother would always be the golden child. Jake would always be the disappointment–the one wasting his time, the one throwing his potential away.

He had spent his whole life trying not to care about that.

But he did. God, he did.

He knew his father’s words had shaped him more than he wanted to admit. The way he second-guessed himself. The way he always pushed himself harder, trying to prove something, even when there was no one left to convince.

His father had made him feel like he wasn’t enough so often. Every single time he tried to be the son his father wanted. Every single time he failed.

That’s why he dated Sophia. He wasn’t sure he had ever actually even liked her. Not really. Not in the way he liked you.

With you, it was different.

He never had to force himself to be excited to see you, it just happened. You could be talking about the most gruesome, disgusting cases, and he would still be hooked, watching the way your eyes lit up when you explained something you loved. You never made him feel like he had something to prove. Like he was something to parade around in school or in front of your friends, a trophy boyfriend per say, like Sophia did. She definitely didn't date him because she liked him either, judging by how ugly all of it ended. You supported him without hesitation, without making him feel like he had to earn it first. You believed in him, even when his own family didn’t. You made him feel like he was enough.

And god, the butterflies. The stupid, stupid butterflies. He hadn’t felt that way in years. Giddy, like a little schoolboy.

But apparently, none of it mattered.

Because you didn’t feel the same. ────────────────────────── A few days after Jake played the Frozen Four, you forced yourself to pull it together and go back to class. Your professors had assigned you essays on the topics you’d missed, and for once, you were actually grateful for the workload. It gave you something to focus on. You texted Jake two days after the game, apologizing for not wishing him luck and congratulating him on the win. But he didn’t answer. You told yourself you understood. If he was mad, if he didn’t feel like talking to you, that was fair. You had pulled away first. But you decided that the two of you had to talk. This couldn’t go on like this. You had to tell him how you felt. And you had to explain why you needed to step back. You didn’t hear Jay come in. You barely noticed him at first, too focused on the essay you were working on. He sighed and slid into the chair across from you, setting his arms on the desk, catching your attention. You swallowed, shutting your laptop. “Hey, Jay.” “Hey, Y/N.” His voice was quiet, careful. You glanced at him. He was watching you, brows furrowed in concern. "You scared me." Your throat tightened. "Jay—" "I mean it," he cut in, shaking his head. “You disappeared. You stopped going to class, you didn’t go to the game, you barely answer texts. And I wanted to give you space but it's been two weeks and I am worried." Guilt curled in your stomach. You looked away. You had been avoiding him. Not because you wanted to – but because you didn't know how to explain what had been running through your head these past few weeks. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I need you to talk to me, because I don’t think you’re okay.”, Jay exhaled. "You don’t just get to disappear," he said, his voice quieter now. "You don’t just get to lock yourself away and expect people not to care. I care. Jake definitely cares." He let out a slow breath, watching you carefully. "I just – I need to know what’s going on in that head of yours."

You hesitated and focused on your laptop again. You wanted to tell him. Jay had grown to be one of your closest friends, until you started pulling away from everyone. "Did Jake do something?" That made you look up. "No, Jay." The words came out harsh and immediate, your voice cracking under the weight of them. "That’s the problem." And just like that the dam broke: “Jake and I were faking it all. We were never together. Or like kinda? I have no idea. He asked me because his dad is such a stupid arrogant asshole who makes him feel like shit even though Jake is such an amazing person. And I just went along and then you thought we were like you know dating without saying anything and we just thought oh why not. If you would believe us his dad definitely would do too. But-” You swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the desk. "Then- then this stupid fake dating thing didn’t stay fake for me and I actually fell for that stupid idiot. And now I am living through a cliche rom com crisis."

Jay stilled. For a second, he just stared at you. Then he let out a slow, almost pained breath, dragging a hand down his face. "Jesus Christ. Are you actually telling me that you and Jake spent months pretending to be together, being disgustingly obsessed with each other, making literal heart eyes across the room, and you thought–what? That you were faking it?", he let out a breath, shaking his head. You nodded. You were surprised he wasn’t more surprised at the whole dating thing. “Why did you end it then, Y/N? If you knew you liked him. That it wasn’t fake for you.”, he asked. “Because I don’t belong in his world Jay. I saw that at the wedding. I don’t belong in his world of rich people who marry their kids off because it looks better for their company's reputation.”, you swallowed and looked away. Jay just shook his head. "So you pulled away because you were scared." It wasn’t a question. You nodded again. Jay let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “Fuck,” he whispered. “Y/N. You really thought walking away was the best thing to do?"

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. "I thought if I ended it first, it would be easier." His lips pressed together. Then, softer he asked, "And? Was it?" You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

He shook his head. "You know, I don’t think you even realize what you did to yourself. You isolated yourself. You disappeared from everything. And I get it, okay? I do. When you care about someone that much, it’s scary. But shutting down? Pretending it doesn’t hurt? That’s not protecting yourself. That’s just making sure you have no one to catch you when you finally break." His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You clenched your jaw, blinking hard. "I didn’t want him to feel bad," you said, your voice small. "I didn’t want him to have to let me down gently when his dad finally thought I wasn’t enough. I didn’t want him to deal with me."

Jay let out a soft, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. "And who told you that he would? In which world would Jake allow his dad to destroy his friendships, his relationship for fucks sake." You looked away. He was right. Jay was silent for a moment. "You don’t have to do this alone, Y/N. You shouldn’t do this alone." He shook his head, a small, wry smile tugging at his lips.

"You pulled away from me, too," he said, quieter now. "You don’t get to do this alone, okay? You don’t have to." Your heart broke hearing him say that. "I miss him," you whispered. Jay sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. And he misses you." You let out a slow breath, staring at the desk. “Y/N, you love him. And he loves you.”

You flinched. “Jay—” “He does. It's probably too early for him to say it himself, but it's so obvious.” His voice was firm, like he needed you to believe it. “He’s miserable, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this. His dad took him out to dinner.” Jay exhaled sharply. “And you weren’t there. You weren’t anywhere.” Guilt curled in your chest like a vice. Jay sighed. “I’m not saying this to make you feel worse. You didn’t ruin this, Y/N. But you will if you don’t fix it.” You let out a slow breath, staring at the desk. Jay nudged you one last time. "So. What are you gonna do about it?" You stared at your hands, feeling your pulse in your throat. “I don’t even know where to start,” you said, voice small, defeated. Jay’s face softened. “You start with him.” His voice was steady, the kind of gentle guidance you hadn’t realized you needed. "But you start now. You don’t have to have the perfect words. You don’t have to have some big, dramatic confession. You just have to talk to him.” You met his eyes, feeling that old ache return, but this time, you knew you could do something about it. “I’m scared,” you admitted quietly. “I know.” Jay nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “But you won’t know until you try.”

You exhaled shakily, staring down at your desk.

Jay was right. ──────────────────────────

The glow of Jake’s phone was the only source of light in the dark room. He was laying on his back, staring blankly at the screen, watching as the minutes ticked by.

4:12 PM.

He hadn’t moved in hours. Hadn’t gone to class. Hadn’t gone to practice. Tomorrow was the NCAA National Championship, and he should be panicking about the fact that he was getting benched. But he wasn’t. Because even if Coach wasn’t benching him for missing practice, he physically couldn’t play. Not with his ribs still fucked from the last two games. He had known something was wrong when every breath felt like a knife to his side, but he hadn’t cared enough to get it checked out until Jay practically dragged him to the team doctor. Fractured ribs. A solid six weeks of recovery. No hockey. He should care. But he didn’t. Not about the game. Not about the championship. Not about anything.

The only thing rattling around in his brain was you. And his dad. And the overwhelming, crushing feeling of failure. His phone buzzed suddenly, cutting through the silence. Jake squinted at the screen.

Joshua [Incoming Call] For a second, he debated letting it ring. But then he picked up. Josh never called, so it had to be something important.

“…Hey.”

“Hey, Jake,” Joshua’s voice came through, steady but softer than he remembered. “You got a minute?”

Jake let out a short, humorless laugh. “I got a lot of minutes.”

Joshua sighed. “Yeah, I figured.” There was a pause before he said, “Dad told me what happened at dinner.”

Jake let out a bitter laugh. “Of course, he did. What did he say? That I was throwing my future away? That I was making a fool of myself?”

“What did he tell you?”

Jake exhaled, pressing a hand against his aching ribs. “Not much to say. He laid out his usual bullshit about how hockey isn’t a future, how I have no choice but to take over the Seoul branch. Then threw in some shit about my relationship being a bad look for the family—because apparently, Marcus’s dad had some opinions.”

There was a beat of silence before Joshua asked, “What did you say?”

Jake closed his eyes. “Told him I wasn’t gonna be his chess piece.”

Joshua huffed out something that almost sounded like a laugh. “Bet he loved that.”

“Oh yeah. Real father-son bonding moment.”

Another pause. Then Joshua’s voice came through, quieter.

“Jake… I’m sorry.”

Jake frowned. “For what?”

“For all of it.” Joshua hesitated. “For how Dad treated you. For how I just—let it happen. I didn’t know how bad it was, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve done something. I should’ve been there for you.”

Jake swallowed. He wasn’t used to hearing this from his brother. Joshua had always been untouchable—the one their dad never criticized, the one who seemed to just belong in that world.

But now, for the first time, he sounded… human.

“It’s not your fault,” Jake muttered.

Joshua sighed. “Maybe not. But I still should’ve told you sooner that you don’t have to listen to him.”

Jake didn’t say anything.

Joshua was silent for a long moment before saying, “Jake, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to let him control your life.”

“I don’t exactly have a choice,” Jake muttered. “He made it clear. No Seoul branch, no financial support.”

“You do have a choice,” Joshua countered. “Go no contact. Cut him off before he can do it to you. I know you’re worried about money,” Joshua continued, “but listen. Whatever you need, I’ve got you. You don’t have to keep trying to please him just to survive.”

Jake swallowed hard.

“Why?” Jake asked. “Why are you even calling?”

Joshua sighed. “Because I should have done it sooner. Because I hate how Dad treats you, how he’s always compared us, like you were some failure when all you’ve done is chase what makes you happy. I never wanted to be the golden child, Jake. I just- I loved playing music, and I was good at business, but I didn’t want it to be at your expense.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “You don’t know how fucking hard it’s been,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Trying so goddamn hard just to be enough for him. And no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

“I know,” Joshua said. “And I’m sorry.”

Jake swallowed past the lump in his throat. He was too tired to be angry, too drained to hold onto the resentment he had clung to for so long. He exhaled. “I think I’m done, Josh. I think I’m done trying.”

“Good,” Joshua said. “Because you don’t need to prove anything to him.”

Jake closed his eyes, the weight on his chest shifting—not gone, but lighter. “Thanks, Josh.”

“For what?”

“For calling.”

There was a pause, then Joshua chuckled softly. “Anytime, little brother.”

Jake ran a hand through his hair. “Guess I’m officially the family disappointment, huh?”

Joshua let out a breath of amusement. “Nah. You’re the one who actually had the guts to walk away.”

Jake didn’t know what to say to that.

Then Joshua added, “For what it’s worth? I’m proud of you.”

Jake blinked.

He didn’t think he’d ever heard those words from a family member before.

It shouldn’t have made his throat feel tight.

But it did.

He forced out a chuckle, trying to cover up the sudden swell of emotion. “Damn, hyung. That almost sounded sincere.”

Joshua laughed. “Don’t get used to it.”

Jake let out a deep breath, leaning back against the pillow as he tried to keep his mind from wandering. He didn’t want to think about the game. He didn’t want to think about anything. But Joshua kept going, his voice cutting through the fog in Jake’s head.

“So, what about tomorrow?” Joshua asked, casually. “The championship, right? Are you nervous?”

Jake blinked, surprised. “Wait, you know about the game?”

Joshua snorted. “Sure. I might not watch all the games, but I try to keep up. I mean, how could I not know about the biggest one of the season? It's your biggest game yet. Maybe you'll get the opportunity to get into a professional team if a agent is watching?”

Jake rubbed his temples, trying to focus on his brother's words. His chest felt tight just thinking about it.

“Yeah, well…” Jake hesitated, his voice faltering. “I’m not playing.”

Joshua went quiet. Then, after a long moment of silence, he said, “What? Why not?”

Jake took a shallow breath, avoiding the words for as long as he could. “I, uh… I have a rib fracture.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Jake felt a knot tighten in his stomach, because as soon as they left his mouth, the memory of the last time someone checked on him, the way you had kissed him after your conversation two weeks ago, flashed in his mind.

“What? Jake, a rib fracture? What the hell? Why didn’t you say anything sooner? You can’t just—”

"It's okay. I had worse.", Jake shrugged, cutting him off. He swallowed hard, still trying to suppress the memory of your touch.

“Jake,” Joshua said urgently, his voice low with concern. “You need to get that checked out. That’s serious. Why aren’t you-”

Jake interrupted him again. "I'm fine. Y/N checked on me and said it's probably fine but then during the game on Saturday I was distracted and someone pushed me into the board. Jay made me see a doctor and everything is fine. I just have to be careful for the next few weeks. Don't worry. But uhm maybe don't tell mom. I don't want her to freak out."

Joshua let out a huff. "Jake, you are insane. I hope Y/N is taking good care of you, if Mina knew I had a broken rib she wouldn't let me out of bed."

Jake let out a dry chuckle, but it lacked any real humor. He ran a hand through his hair, hesitating for a moment before finally saying, “Yeah, well… Y/N’s not taking care of me.” His voice was quieter now, more strained. “I haven’t seen her in almost two weeks.”

Joshua was silent for a second. Then, incredulously, “Wait. What do you mean you haven’t seen her?”

Jake exhaled sharply, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean exactly that. She’s avoiding me.” The words felt heavy as they left his mouth, pressing down on his chest in a way that had nothing to do with his ribs.

Joshua scoffed, completely baffled. “Why the hell would she avoid you? I thought she is your girlfriend.”

Jake let out another humorless laugh. "Yeah she kinda never was.”

“Jake… what do you mean?”

Jake shut his eyes, pressing his fingers against his temple as if that would somehow make everything disappear. “We were never real.”

“What?”

Jake exhaled, pressing his knuckles against his eyes. “It was fake. The whole thing.”

Joshua still didn’t say anything, so Jake kept going before he lost the nerve. “I asked her to be my fake girlfriend for the wedding. That’s how it started.” The words felt heavy in his mouth, like he was confessing to a crime. “We… we went on these, like, ‘not-dates’ to get to know each other. But then our friends assumed we were actually together, and we just went with it. I don’t even know when it started feeling… different.”

Joshua let out a breath. “Different?”

Jake groaned, flopping onto his back. “I don’t know, man. At first, it was just fun. But then we kissed. And I thought—God, I don’t even know what I thought. Then we kissed again at that stupid party, and we kissed at the wedding and she kissed me again after telling everyone we broke up and then—” He stopped himself, voice catching.

Joshua’s voice was quiet but firm. “And then what?”

Jake swallowed past the lump in his throat. “And then she broke down during the kiss. And apologized. Over and over. And I still don't know what she was feeling so sorry for. Probably for ghosting me. She probably knew she was going to do this.”

Joshua didn’t respond immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” Jake let out a bitter laugh. “And now she won’t answer my texts. Or anyone’s. She’s not going to class. It’s like she just… disappeared. And I don’t know what to do.”

Joshua was quiet for a moment before saying, “And you miss her.”

Jake let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. A fuck ton.”

Joshua hummed in understanding. “So, let me get this straight. You asked her to be your fake girlfriend, but now you actually want to be with her?”

Jake let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”

“And she kissed you and then cried, and now she’s avoiding you?”

Jake winced. “Basically.”

Joshua exhaled. “Jake.”

Jake closed his eyes, shaking his head. “She made it pretty clear how she felt.” His voice was quiet now, defeated. “I was stupid for thinking it could be something real.”

Joshua made a frustrated noise. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Jake. Are you serious?”

Jake frowned. “What?”

“She likes you.”

Jake let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Clearly not.”

Joshua groaned. “Jake, I was at that wedding. I saw you two together. I saw the way you looked at her. I saw the way she looked at you. That was not fake."

Jake’s stomach twisted. “You’re imagining things.”

“I’m not.” Joshua’s voice was firm. “She looked at you like you hung the damn moon, Jake.”

Jake pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to fight the wave of emotion building in his chest. “Then why is she gone?”

Joshua sighed. “That’s what you need to figure out.”

Jake let out a shaky breath. “I don’t even know if she wants to see me.”

Joshua’s voice softened. “Then find out. Kissing you and then crying about knowing she will ghost you doesn't sound like someone that doesn't feel something for you, you know. Maybe it started as fake. But it seems like it isn't anymore. For neither of you.”

Jake huffed. “Yeah, well, if she does have feelings, she’s doing a great job of pretending otherwise.”

Joshua sighed. “Jake, this girl spent weeks pretending to date you. You really think she’s incapable of pretending something else?”

Jake clenched his jaw, the words slipping out before he could stop them. “I don’t know what to do, Josh.”

Joshua was silent for a moment, like he was carefully choosing his next words. “You talk to her.”

Jake huffed. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Then make her listen.”

Jake let out a humorless laugh. “That easy, huh?”

“I didn’t say it’d be easy,” Joshua shot back. “But what’s the alternative? Just giving up? Accepting that the best thing that’s ever happened to you just walked away?”

Jake sucked in a sharp breath. He hated how easily his brother could see through him.

“I know you,” Joshua continued. “You don’t just let things go when they matter. And don’t even try to tell me she didn’t matter.”

Jake didn’t say anything.

Joshua sighed again, but this time, it was softer. “Just… think about it, alright?”

Jake ran a hand down his face, feeling utterly drained. “Yeah. I’ll think about it.”

He had been thinking about nothing but you for the past two weeks. ──────────────────────────They lost. They fucking lost. Jake was sitting next to Sunghoon and Chaeryoung behind the players bench in the stadium not believing his eyes. The opposing team managed to get the puck into their net two times within 10 seconds in the second period. The goals were brilliant and there was a reason why Seok Matthew got drafted by the eagles, but fuck. This couldn’t be happening. The buzzer ran to signal the end of the third period and Jake basically jumped down to his team, ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs. This couldn’t be happening. Jay ripped his helmet off and looked up towards the ceiling, Heeseung skated to the bench and slowly undid his gloves and helmet, looking absolutely devastated. Beomgy looked like he was about to cry and Soobin and Yeonjun immediately hugged him and presumably told him it was not his fault. Jake just stood there. They lost. Their coach gathered them in the locker room, his voice softer than usual, a hand resting firmly on Soobin’s shoulder as he addressed the team. “You boys played a hell of a season. Hold your heads high. You gave it everything.”

Jake had wanted to send him and Yeonjun off with a win, a championship, a night of celebration that would go down in history. Instead, all they had was silence. The bus ride home was heavy. No music, no usual post-game excitement. Just quiet. After a while, their coach stood up and grabbed the mic at the front of the bus. “Guys,” he started, glancing back at them. “You played fantastic. This whole season was incredible. I rarely have a team with this much connection, this much passion. It was an honor coaching you. So many of you have a bright future in hockey. And this? This isn’t the end. It’s just fuel for next year.” He gave them a small smile. “Next season, the cup will be ours.” A few murmurs of agreement rippled through the team, some nods, some tired smiles. Later that night, they all found themselves crammed into their regular bar. The air was filled with the low hum of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter that felt a little forced at first, but eventually, the drinks started kicking in and they took over the music cranking it up high. “Alright, alright,” Beomgyu announced, standing on one of the bar stools and clinking his beer bottle against his ring. “We may have lost, but we’re still the hottest hockey team in the league, and that counts for something, right?” A weak cheer went up, and Beomgyu scowled. “No, no, no. That was pathetic. Let’s try again – we are still the hottest hockey team in the league, and that counts for something, right?” This time, the response was louder, mixed with laughter and a few playful boos. Jake, slouched against the booth with a whiskey in hand, cheered along, with less enthusiasm as some of the others. He wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory. But the others had enough to drink already to feel enthusiastic again. Beomgyu climbed down from his chair and steered right at Jake. “Okay Jake. Stop pouting. We lost, so what. Smile dude. I just called you hot.”

That actually made Jake chuckle a bit. “I am not feeling very hot right now to be honest.” “Oh wait wait! I know what will make you feel hot within a few seconds again!”, Beomguy turned around and made his way to the DJ and then to the bar. He returned a few minutes later holding up shot glasses filled with red liquids. “Prairie fires!” And then, as if on cue, the opening beats of Hot N Cold blasted through the speakers. “Oh, fuck off,” Jake groaned, while Beomgyu cackled and slammed a shot glass down in front of him. “Katy Perry rules, baby,” Beomgyu smirked. “Take the shot.”

Jake sighed but tipped the tequila back without complaint. The rule was dumb as hell, but it was his rule, and he had to respect it. The alcohol and the hot sauce bruned in his throat when he swallowed the shot. Then the next song started. Last Friday Night. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.” “Rules are rules,” Beomgyu grinned, already handing him another one. Jake exhaled heavily before knocking back another shot.

Then, California Gurls. Jake groaned but took another. Then Teenage Dream. Then Dark Horse. And before he could even process how many shots he had downed in the span of 45 minutes, he was already way past the point of being buzzed.

“I hate all of you,” Jake slurred, swaying slightly as he grabbed onto Nicolas’s shoulder for support, which turned out to be a horrible idea, since he was swaying just as much as Jake. “Correction: you love us,” Beomgyu grinned, drowned another shot alone and turned around. “Soobin hyung! I come to give you my love!” Across the bar, Soobin barely had time to react before Beomgyu launched himself at him. “No!” Soobin’s voice rang out in pure, genuine panic, which send Nicolas and Jake into a laughing fit so hard, that Jake was scared he was going to pee his pants.

Jake was still catching his breath when another Katy Perry song blasted through the speakers, and suddenly, an arm slung around his shoulders. “Jake! It’s Katy! Where are our shots?” “Kotone!” he laughed, spinning around and wrapping her in a bear hug. Without thinking, he lifted her off the ground, making her shriek. “My favorite shots partner!” “Fuck, let me down,” she gasped between laughs. “Imma vomit if you spin me!”

Jake just squeezed her tighter. “You’d still be my favorite!” She smacked his shoulder, still laughing as he finally set her down. “Jay should get us shots,” she declared, nodding seriously. “I want those weird apple shots we had last time. Where’s Y/N? She also has to have one!” His heart stumbled. “She’s… at home,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Kotone frowned. “Aw, no. Why? She needs some Katy shots.” She spotted Jay and almost threw herself into his arms. “Baby. Can you buy us apple shots? Its Katy.”

Jay looked at her with such a love sick facial expression Jake felt like kicking him in the nuts. Jay absolutely deserved to be happy and Kotone made him so happy, he was such a simp for that girl it made Jake sick. He just wanted to kick him for being happy in front of him. And then someone skipped Teenage Dream and he heard the first notes of Finesse by Bruno mars. His heart stopped. In fact everything felt like it stopped. He had to blink aggressively to stop his tears from falling. His breath hitched, his pulse quickened, and the bar faded around him. This song. This fucking song. His eyes darted around, and suddenly, it was like watching a slow-motion montage of all his friends pulling their boyfriends, their girlfriends, their person in for a kiss. Jay and Kotone. Yeonjun and Chaeryoung. Even Beomgyu, drunk out of his mind, was spinning some girl in a circle before kissing her forehead sloppily. It was tradition.

And the last time he heard that song he took part in it. Pulling you close. Kissing you. And you kissed back. It was soft and dizzying, the taste of cigarettes and tequila on your tongue, your hands tangling in his hair. Fuck. He could still feel it.

Still taste you. And he wanted to kiss you again so badly it made his head spin worse than the alcohol ever could. Before he could think, he turned on his heel and started toward the door. He needed to go. He didn’t know where exactly—your place? His? Somewhere else? But he had to go.

It didn’t matter that you hadn’t answered his texts. Didn’t matter that you had been avoiding everyone. Didn’t matter that he had no idea if you even wanted to see him. He needed to find you.

And so, without another word, he turned and stumbled toward the door. ────────────────────────── You were on the cusp of sleep when the sound of your doorbell ringing woke you up again. You groaned and glanced at your alarm clock. 2:14 am. Who would ring your doorbell at two am in the morning. Who would need anything from you at two in the morning? Your doorbell rang again, this time longer. And again. And again. You signed and peeled your blanket off your body. Shuffling toward the front door, you pressed the button to the intercom. “Hello?” “Y/N?” Jake. What was Jake doing here at 2 am. You furrowed your brow in confusion. “Jake? What are you doing here?” “Y/N please please let me in.” His voice was slurring, and you could tell he was drunk. Without thinking, you grabbed your keys and slipped on a pair of flip-flops before rushing down the stairs to the entrance door of the building. When you opened it you froze for a second. Jake was slumped against the wall next to the door, looking absolutely wrecked. His eyes were glassy and his cheeks and neck flushed. He smelled like alcohol. When he saw you, his head shot up, and before you could even process what was happening, he staggered forward, wrapping his arms around you. His body trembled slightly as he pressed his face into your shoulder. He was crying. You felt his hot tears soaking through the thin material of your Pyjama shirt. “Why did you leave me, Y/N?” he whispered, his voice breaking. “What did I do?” You had to close your eyes for a second swallowing hard. “Jake…” You gently pushed him away just enough to look into his face. He looked beautiful, even while he was drunk and crying he looked devastatingly beautiful.

You couldn't stop yourself from wiping his cheeks with your thumb. “Jake you’re drunk.” His glassy eyes locked onto yours, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “No,” he mumbled, shaking his head sluggishly. “Not Jake.” His bottom lip trembled. “I’m not Jake. I’m Jakey. Or Jakeyboy.” His brows knitted together, voice turning small, wounded. “Why are you calling me Jake?” And just like that, your heart shattered. It felt like the air had been punched out of your lungs.

Your throat tightened painfully. You blinked hard, forcing back the sting in your eyes. "Why, Y/N? Why aren’t you speaking to me? Why aren't you speaking to anyone?” His voice cracked as he buried his face into your hands, seeking comfort, yet his words only made everything worse. “I miss you.” You couldn’t believe this was happening. It felt like a bad dream. You were the reason why he looked like this, why he was feeling miserable, as Jay put it, and it broke your heart. “Let’s go inside, Jake,” you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady. “Let’s get you some water.” Jake nodded against your hands, his eyes fluttering shut as if the simple gesture had exhausted him.

You carefully took his hands and helped him stumble inside, leading him to your small apartment. It was more of a one-room studio than anything, but you guided him to sit on the bed and knelt before him. His eyes never left you but he calmed down slightly, not crying anymore. When you got him to remove his jacket and shirt, you handed him one of his shirts he left at your place after training once. You washed it and it had been lying in your closet ever since. He looked like a kicked puppy, his face full of hurt. You stood in front of him, standing between his legs, gently cupping his face in your hands again. His skin was warm and flushed from alcohol. “Jake, I’m so sorry. I should’ve talked to you. I should’ve—” Your voice broke, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m so sorry.” Before you could say anything more, he suddenly pulled you toward him, burying his face in your stomach. His arms wrapped tightly around you, fingers clutching at the fabric of your shirt like he was afraid you’d slip away again. You felt the warmth of his breath against your skin, the way his shoulders shook, and the wetness of his tears seeping through the thin cotton. “Why did you disappear, Y/N?” His voice was so small. Your hands trembled as they found their way into his hair, your fingers threading through the strands. “I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered, your own voice breaking. “I don’t know—but I am so, so sorry.” A sob caught in your throat, and the dam broke. You tried to hide your face in your hands.

Jake pulled back slightly, his hands reaching up to wrap around your wrists, gently tugging them away from your tear-streaked face. You just shook your head and another sob made its way from your throat. “Jake, I’m sorry. I was scared. I–I didn’t know what to do,” you choked out. His grip on your wrists tightened and he carefully pulled you onto his lap. “You just disappeared, Y/N,” he whispered against your temple and you could smell the faint taste of tequila. Why did it always have to be tequila?

“You were gone. You promised.” He exhaled shakily, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your temple. Then another. And another. “I was so worried,” he murmured against your skin. Another kiss. “I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely more than a breath. “What happened? Please, I need you to talk to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. Not now. You had promised Jay and yourself that you’d talk to Jake, that you’d tell him everything. But not while he was like this. Not when he was clearly drunk. “Tomorrow, Jake,” you whispered, sniffling as you leaned further into him. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, when you’re sober. I promise. And this time, I’ll keep it.”

His hands lingered on your wrists for a beat longer before finally loosening, though he still didn’t let go. You pulled away just enough to grab a box of tissues from your bedside table, dabbing at your cheeks before handing him one. He took it, wiping his face, but his fingers never left your skin, still curled loosely around your wrist, as if he was terrified you’d vanish the second he let go. You swallowed the lump in your throat and mustered a small smile, tugging on his hand. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Jake let out a quiet sigh but nodded, letting you guide him toward the bathroom. As soon as you flicked on the light, the déjà vu hit you like a tidal wave. Him, slumped against your sink. A spare toothbrush hanging lazily from his mouth. The way his gaze lingered on you in the mirror, unfocused but so unbearably soft. He washed his face, dried it off, and the second his hands were free, they found your wrist again. You led Jake back to your bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the streetlamp outside. You could see how exhausted he was, he was moving slowly and sluggishly. You pulled back the blanket and nudged him toward the mattress. He didn’t argue, just sank onto it with a quiet sigh, rolling onto his side. You hesitated for a moment before lying down beside him, careful, unsure. But Jake didn’t hesitate. The second you were within reach, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you against his chest, his nose pressing into the crook of your neck.

He exhaled softly, his breath warm against your skin, and you felt the way his body slowly relaxed against yours. His grip on you remained firm, but the tension in his shoulders faded, his breathing evening out as he fell asleep. Your eyes flickered to the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. You shifted slightly, your hand brushing against something soft, and when you turned your head, your fingers curled around a familiar plushie. Mr. Fluffinton the Third. Your chest ached. You should’ve talked to Jake. You should’ve stayed. Instead, you ran. And now, lying here in the quiet, feeling his steady breathing against your neck, all you could think about was how much you had missed him. How much you still missed him. And how afraid you were that you had ruined everything. ────────────────────────── The city was still quiet when you stepped onto the rooftop. A cold breeze kissed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as you crossed your arms over your chest. Just standing up here made you itch to light up a cigarette. Letting the nicotine calm your nerves when your mind was too loud to sleep. You haven’t bought a new packet since you threw your last one into the trash two weeks ago. The day you missed his game. You took a deep breath, staring out at the streets that were still dark. You hadn’t slept – not really. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Jake. The way he had looked at you when you let him in. The way he had held you, his grip tight like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers again. The way he had whispered, Why did you leave me? Why are you calling me Jake? You swallowed hard, rubbing your arms before turning back toward the stairwell. You weren’t sure how long you had been up there, but the sky was starting to lighten, the first hints of dawn creeping over the horizon. You sighed, shaking off the lingering chill as you made your way back down to your apartment. The sound of you opening your apartment door woke Jake up, his face soft with sleep, hair a mess against your pillow. His brows furrowed as he blinked, his eyes searching the room until they landed on you. “Where’d you go?” His voice was thick with sleep, raspy and quiet. Your heart clenched. You crossed the room without thinking, dropping to your knees in front of him. Your hands found his face, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, and he leaned into your touch instinctively, his eyes fluttering shut for a second. “Just the roof,” you murmured. “I couldn’t sleep.” Jake blinked up at you, and for a moment, he just studied you. Your fingers moved from his cheeks to his hair, gently carding through the strands, trying to lull him into sleep again. Then your hand brushed against something soft, and you glanced down to see Mr. Fluffington the Third, clutched loosely in Jake’s grip.

Your throat tightened, and you stroked his cheek with your thumb, voice barely above a whisper. “Go back to sleep, Jake.” His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. “You’ll be here when I wake up?” You swallowed against the lump in your throat. “I’ll be here.” Jake didn’t say anything else. He just nodded sleepily, his grip on Mr. Fluffington tightening slightly as he let his eyes slip shut again.

You stayed there, kneeling beside the bed, watching as his breathing evened out. His lashes cast soft shadows against his cheeks, lips parted just slightly, his face still carrying that gentle confusion, like even in sleep, he wasn’t sure if you’d really be there when he woke up again. You exhaled shakily, brushing a strand of hair off his forehead before you finally stood. Slipping back into bed beside him felt strange. It felt like too much and not enough all at once. But the moment your body settled against the mattress, Jake’s arms moved instinctively, wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. You turned onto your side, facing him, and let yourself study him in the dim light. How had you ever thought you could just leave? Your fingers hovered near his face, tracing over the air between you before you finally gave in, brushing your knuckles against his cheek. He sighed softly in his sleep, leaning into your touch even unconsciously. You bit your lip, eyes stinging.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow you would talk. Tomorrow you would tell him everything. ────────────────────────── You stirred awake to the feeling of soft fingers running through your hair. The warmth of Jake’s body beneath you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the gentle touch against your scalp. The slight scratch almost made you fall asleep again but Jake's voice interrupted your almost slumber. “You’re awake.” His voice was quiet, still thick with sleep. You hummed in response, not ready to move, not ready to look him in the eye. His fingers didn’t stop moving in your hair. “You didn’t sleep much, did you?” You swallowed hard. “Not really.” Jake let out a small sigh, his thumb brushing lightly against the nape of your neck. "Y/N..."

You tensed. You knew what was coming. You had promised him answers. "Tell me what happened," he murmured. "Tell me why you left." Your fingers curled into his shirt, your heart pounding. "Jake..." "I'm right here," he whispered. "Just talk to me." You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to speak before fear could make you run again. "I—" Your voice broke. "I'm scared Jake."

His breath caught, but he didn’t say anything, just kept running his fingers through your hair, waiting. You took a deep breath, but it felt like your lungs couldn’t expand properly. Like the weight of everything you had been holding in was pressing down on your chest, threatening to suffocate you. Jake waited. Patient, steady, warm. His fingers still moved through your hair. "I know I don’t belong in your world, Jake." The words tumbled out before you could stop them, before you could talk yourself into silence again. Your voice was hoarse, raw with the truth you had tried to bury. "I’ve always known." Jake’s body stiffened beneath you. “Y/N…” "Sophia told me," you went on, your fingers gripping his shirt a little tighter, needing something to hold onto. "At the wedding. She told me that her marriage with Marcus was just a business deal. That none of it was real." You felt Jake inhale sharply.

"And it just—God, it hit me all at once," you whispered. "Everything your father said to me that night. The way he looked at me like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t good enough." Jake swore under his breath, his hand stilling against the nape of your neck. "He would never approve of me, Jake," you said, voice breaking. "And I couldn’t—I couldn’t put myself through that again. I can't be the girl who gets tossed aside when something better comes along. I’ve already been that girl." Jake exhaled sharply. "You think I would do that to you?" "I don’t know." The confession felt like ripping open an old wound. "I just—I am scared. Scared of getting my heart broken again by another rich boy who’s out of my league." His hold on you tightened. "I thought—" you swallowed hard, squeezing your eyes shut. "I thought if I ended it first, it would hurt less. For me. For you." Jake was silent for a long moment. And then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him—“You really think it hurt less?” Your throat tightened. Because looking at him now, feeling the way his body trembled underneath yours, the way his breath came unsteadily, the way he had shown up at your door last night looking absolutely wrecked.

No. It hadn’t hurt less at all. Jake let out a shaky breath, his hand still resting against the nape of your neck, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin. He wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel the tension in his body, in the way his chest rose and fell unevenly beneath you. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

"I can’t believe you think I would’ve done that to you." You squeezed your eyes shut, guilt clawing at your ribs. "Jake–" "No," he said, shaking his head slightly. "I need you to hear this." His fingers slid into your hair again, not to comfort, but to tilt your face up, forcing you to look at him. The hurt in his gaze made your stomach twist painfully. You felt your eyes water. "I would never do that to you, Y/N," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I would never let my dad, or anyone else, decide who I should be with. You think I give a damn about his approval?"

Your breath hitched. "You really thought I would’ve just–what? Tossed you aside when it got hard? When he didn’t approve?" His jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "You think so little of me?" Your stomach churned. "It’s not that," you murmured. "I was trying to protect myself. And you." Jake let out a soft, bitter laugh. "Yeah? Well, you didn’t. You just hurt us both." He was right. You did. "Jake…" "Do you know how fucking miserable I’ve been, Y/N?" His voice cracked slightly, and it broke something in you. "I kept telling myself there had to be a reason. That there was something I did wrong, something I could’ve fixed if you had just talked to me." You shook your head, throat burning. "There wasn’t."

His eyes softened, but there was still something so profoundly wounded in his expression. "Then why didn’t you let me fight for you? Why did you let me love you." Your throat tightened as his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and suffocating. You had thought you were doing the right thing. That cutting things off before they got too real would save you both the pain of an inevitable ending. But looking at him now, at the hurt in his eyes, at the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly where they held you, you realized you had only rewritten the ending in the worst way possible. Your vision blurred. “Jake, I—” Your voice cracked, and you sucked in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "I was scared." His jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything, just waited. "I thought—" You swallowed, your hands tightening into fists against his chest. "I thought if I let myself have this, have you, it would hurt even more when I lost it." Jake’s breath hitched. "You never even gave me the chance to prove you wouldn’t lose me." A tear slipped down your cheek, and his eyes immediately flickered to it, his thumb moving instinctively to wipe it away. His touch was so soft, so heartbreakingly gentle that it only made your chest ache more. "Your dad hates me, Jake," you whispered. "And he’s right. I don’t belong in your world. I was never supposed to."

Jake inhaled sharply, and for the first time, anger flickered through his pain. "Fuck that." His voice was still quiet, but there was an unmistakable edge to it now. "You think I give a shit what my dad thinks? You think I would’ve let him ruin this for us?" A sob escaped you before you could stop it, and then his arms were wrapping around you completely, pulling you into his chest like he was afraid you’d slip away again. Your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him just as tightly. "I’m so sorry," you whispered, the words barely making it past the lump in your throat. "I’m so, so sorry." Jake exhaled shakily, his lips pressing against the top of your head. "You should’ve let me fight for you," he murmured again, voice wrecked. "I know," you choked out, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile. "I can't lose you again," he whispered. "You won’t," you promised, voice trembling. And then, he kissed you.

His lips were soft against yours but he kissed you with a sense of urgency you weren’t used to from him. One of his hands buried itself in your hair and the other one slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You melted into him, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, tugging lightly, just to reassure yourself that he was real, that this was real. Jake groaned softly against your mouth. The hand in your hair found its way to your neck. It slid down your spine, slow and deliberate, the tips of his fingers barely ghosting over your skin. You gasped into the kiss, and he took full advantage of it, tilting his head and deepening it, his tongue tentatively brushing against yours. You slightly pulled on his hair and he gasped into your mouth, pulling away slightly to breath before connecting your lips again. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down gently.

He whined. He fucking whined, a soft, needy sound. His grip on you tightened. His breath hitched, his body pressing even closer to yours. Jake pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours, his lips parted, his breaths coming just as uneven as yours. "Are you still scared?" he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek. You swallowed hard, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over his collarbone. "Terrified." A small, breathless laugh escaped him. "Me too."

You giggled and put your head onto his chest again, interviewing your fingers and relishing in the warmth of Jake's body. Neither of you spoke for a long time. You were just there. In each others arms, breathing slowly. Then, after a while, Jake sighed. His chest rose and fell beneath you, and you felt his fingers tighten slightly against your back. “I, uh… I cut contact with my dad.” You blinked, shifting slightly so you could look up at him. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling, his jaw tight, like he wasn’t sure how to say the words out loud.

“Jake…” “He invited me for dinner.” he said, voice quieter now. “I just…couldn’t do it. I walked out.” He exhaled sharply. “I think I always knew it would end up like this. I just didn’t want to admit it.” You reached up, brushing your fingers lightly over his collarbone. “I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” He swallowed. “It’s better this way.”

You didn’t say anything, just traced slow circles against his skin, letting him know you were here, that you were listening. He let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh. “Josh called me.”, he paused. “ To apologize. It’s weird, you know? I spent so long thinking he was just another part of the problem. That he only cared about himself. But he actually… He actually cares.” Your chest tightened. “Of course he does, Jake.” Jake nodded, exhaling. “Yeah. I think I finally get that.” His fingers brushed over your shoulder, absentminded, like he was still trying to process it all himself. “I don’t know if we’ll ever be close. But at least we’re not fighting anymore.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his face. He leaned into your touch instinctively, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief second. “I’m glad,” you whispered. Jake looked at you then, really looked at you. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.” Jake didn’t say anything for a while. He just held you, his fingers running gently through your hair, his breathing steady against the top of your head. You let your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion settling deep in your bones. You felt your body growing heavier. “You should sleep,” Jake said softly, like he could feel how close you were to slipping under. You tried to fight it, but your eyelids were so heavy, your body sinking deeper into the warmth of his body. “You’ll still be here?” you mumbled, barely awake now. Jake’s arms tightened around you. “I’m not going anywhere.” That was the last thing you heard before sleep finally pulled you under. ──────────────────────────Jakes mom called him while he was still laying in your bed, eating nachos while watching Bones with you. Well he was watching Bones and you were dozing on his chest. He reached for his phone lying on the bedside table next to him, but before he could pick up his phone his mom already ended the call. She had texted him half an hour earlier.

Mom Hello Jake I am going to be in Seoul from tomorrow until Sunday 🤗 Would you and Y/N like to eat dinner with me? In the small DakGalbi restaurant near your grandmas house?

Jake felt you raising your herald peeking onto his phone screen. “Say yes.”, you said, your voice a bit rough from disuse. “Mhm?”, he raised an eyebrow and watched you sit up in the bed gathering your hair in a messy ponytail. His eyes got stuck on the soft skin on your neck. His hands haven't left that spot alone since he woke up this morning. Something about it was just so alluring to him. “Tell your mom we will be there. Tomorrow evening. She was nice compared and seemed to genuinely like me. Even when we only played pretend.”, you shrugged.

Jakes had to really make himself to look away from your neck. The tshirt you were wearing didn't make it better. The oversized and stretched material exposing your collarbones. His fingers twitched with the urge to trace along the delicate curve. God, you were so unfair. "You want me to say yes?" You hummed and climbed over his body out of the bed. Now that he was officially your not fake boyfriend anymore he was allowed to stare at you without feeling weird or like a creep. You made your way to the bathroom and his eyes didn’t leave your body for a second. Jake sighed and texted his mom back.

Instead of coming back to your bed you stayed in of the area you called kitchen and pulled a carton of eggs from your fridge and frozen berries from your fridge. You tossed the berries at Jake, who was almost hit square in the face. “For your ribs.”, you nodded, while you gathered everything you needed for whatever you were planning to cook right now. Jake caught the frozen berries at the last second, hissing at the cold against his fingers. "You're really out here trying to kill me when I am already injured, huh?" You smirked as you cracked an egg into a bowl. "If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t miss." Jake let out a dramatic sigh, tossing the berries onto the counter before sliding off the bed. "My own girlfriend is a menace."

"Oh? So now I’m your girlfriend?" He froze mid-step, narrowing his eyes at you. "What else would you be?" You only hummed in response, the corner of your lips quirking up as you turned back to the stove. He walked right up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. You let out an exasperated sigh, though you didn’t push him away. "Jake."

"Mmm." His grip tightened slightly, and his lips brushed against your skin. "You’re like a lost puppy." Jake smiled against your neck. "And you love it." You scoffed. "I tolerate it." "Liar."

You were about to fire back some witty retort, but then Jake’s lips parted, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss just below your jaw. Your breath caught. His hands slid lower, fingers skimming the hem of your shirt, thumbs pressing softly against your stomach. He kissed you again—slightly higher this time. "Jake," you warned, but it came out weaker than intended. "Hmm?" His voice was innocent, but his actions were anything but.

He kissed along the line of your neck, trailing down until he reached your shoulder. You could feel the smirk on his lips when you inhaled sharply, your hands gripping the counter for support. You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze with a smirk. "You are a weak man, Jaeyun Sim.” Jake scoffed, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Weak? Me?"

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, lazily dragging a finger down his bare arm that was wrapped around your front. "You’re all over me, Sim. Can’t even let me cook without trying to get me distracted." He narrowed his eyes playfully, grasping your shoulder to turn you around, caging you in between his body and the inner edge of your counter. He leaned forward slightly and he slotted his thigh between your legs just to watch the way your breath caught. "You’re talking an awful lot of shit for someone who’s letting me touch them right now," he murmured, his thumb brushing along your jawline.

You tilted your head, eyes dark with amusement. "Who said I was letting you?" Jake groaned. "I hate you." You grinned. "No, you don’t." "No, I don’t," he sighed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you even closer and you rolled your eyes before pressing your lips against his burying your hands in his hair. He let out a satisfied hum blindly but before the kiss could go further he pulled back a bit. You opened your eyes and pouted at him. “Hey! Now I let you and you pull away?” He giggled at that and pressed his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to kill the mood but I am getting really fucking horny at whatever you do and I really want to be sure that you are okay with whatever we are about to do. I don’t want to give you the impression you have to do anything with me.” He watched you swallow and your eyes searched his. “What gives you the impression I think you make me do anything Jakeyboy.” Now it was his turn to swallow. He watched how your hand traveled from his scalp over his upper body until you reached the loose pair of shorts he was hearing. You grabbed him by the strings dangling there and pulled him closer. He was pretty sure you could feel his growing problem very prominently against your thigh.

“I don’t know what Marcus told you.”, your eyes traveled from his lips to his eyes. “But I am not 16 and inexperienced anymore. I know how to stand up for myself. And Jake. I promise I’ll tell you whenever I feel uncomfortable or want you to stop.” Jake groaned and closed the small gap in between your bodies. He pressed himself against your warm body and almost lost his mind when you whined into his mouth. You carefully traced his lower lip with your tongue and he parted his lips slightly, inviting you in. You rolled your hips into his. It was a miniscule movement but his hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in just when he gasped. You took full advantage of it. You swallowed the sound, your tongue sliding against his, hot and demanding, making his entire body shudder. But then Jake’s hand slid down your spine, slow and deliberate, the tips of his fingers barely ghosting over your skin. Just to feel and hear your reaction again, to make you shudder. Marcus can go fuck himself. He will never get the chance to experience this. And that thought filled Jake with so much satisfaction he traced your spine back up again, stopping at your neck. You arched into his touch, and he could feel the hitch in your breath against his lips, the soft shiver that followed. He loved how you melted under the simplest touch.

He couldn't help but smile, pulling away from your lips to attack your neck with small kisses. His lips curled against your neck as he spoke. “God, I love how sensitive you are.” You tilted your neck to the side to give him more access and bit your neck. As his fingers dragged lower, tracing along the curve of your back, savoring the way you reacted to every little movement you let out a breath that sounded suspiciously close to a moan.

You swallowed hard, and your hands slid into his hair, fingers tightening. He could feel your pulse racing beneath his lips as he pressed a soft kiss just below your ear. Your skin was burning under his touch, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to drag his nails lightly down your spine, after he sneaked his hands under your shirt. The quiet moan you let out nearly drove him wild, and he groaned at the sound, pressing his forehead against yours. “You have no idea what that does to me,” he confessed, his voice strained, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. Your hands slid down to his shoulders and pushed him away from your body slightly. “Jake fuck”, your pupils were blown wide, when you looked at him. “We should eat something first. And shower. I am hungry and I feel like I stink and you should eat so you can heal properly. Also we need condoms. I don't have any here.”, you said breathlessly against his lips. Jake hummed. “I think I have some in my wallet.” “You carry around emergency condoms?”, you asked, raising one eyebrow. He shrugged casually. “I sure do. You never know when you stumble into your fake girlfriend’s arms, fully drunk, only to turn her into your very hot and,” he pressed his lips against yours, “attractive and,” another kiss, “clever and,” yet another kiss, “emotionally stupid girlfriend who thinks running away is an option when her gorgeous boyfriend is a hockey player who can run way faster than she can.” You rolled your eyes, slapping the back of his head with enough force to make him laugh. “Go fuck yourself, Sim. I am a fast runner. Have you seen me run anywhere? No." Jake grinned, clearly unbothered by your slap. “Baby, I’ve seen you on the ice. You were taken out by a four-year-old,” he teased, his voice full of laughter. You just slapped his head again. Jake chuckled, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to it before you could land another playful hit. His fingers wrapped around it gently, his thumb tracing over your pulse point. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop,” he said, still grinning. You narrowed your eyes at him but didn’t pull away. “You really think I’m emotionally stupid?” you muttered, arching an eyebrow at him. Jake’s smirk softened. He leaned in, brushing his lips against your forehead before meeting your gaze. “I think you’re scared,” he said simply. “And I think you run when things start feeling too real.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t wrong, and you hated that he knew you well enough to say it out loud. But instead of pressing further, Jake just kissed the tip of your nose and pulled back. “Come on,” he said. “You said you were hungry, and if I remember correctly, I have to eat so I can heal ‘properly.’” He shot you a wink. “Your words, not mine.” You rolled your eyes but continued on cooking while he sat down on a chair in the kitchen area. “You’re staring,” you muttered, not looking up. “I like looking at you,” he admitted easily, no hesitation, no teasing. Your hands faltered for half a second before you shoved a fork in his direction. “Shut up and cool your ribs, Sim.”

He laughed but took the fork, nudging your hip with his before getting the now not so frozen berries from your bed.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty

all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

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