#falling in love with a lanky detective | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years ago

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Sorry I Love You

F/M Pairing: Y/N (Fem!) x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Genre: Marriage AU Prequel; Strangers to Friends; Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Language, mature content throughout, smut, alcohol, references to cheating; too much angst; fluff in the best places

Word Count: 25K

Summary: The one where Y/N falls in love with Bang Chan. One day at a time.

Read Domesticated Here!

“Well, the new kids are both a disappointment.”

I tried not to smile around my poor excuse for a slice of pizza, straight from the biohazard that was our school cafeteria, as I glanced up at Minho’s return. “Oh?”

I swallowed around melted cheese, watching my best friend as he went on an entire rant about our school’s newest transfers. “I thought they would be cool!” Minho whined. “They’re from Australia - like where Chris Hemsworth became the sexiest man alive.”

I nodded my sympathy for his distress - even if it was ridiculous. “How will you survive?”

“Not helpful,” Minho grumbled, and his eyes widened when he noticed something over my shoulder. “Oh shit, they’re here! What if they remember me from the office?”

I tried not to laugh at his hysterics, looking over my shoulder at the two people who stood out like a sore thumb - clearly lost and confused on their first day in a new school.

The tallest one had an untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Thick-rimmed glasses making them appear even bigger, and freckles dotting his rounded cheeks. He stood with his feet together, knuckles turning white from the grip he maintained on the shoulder straps of his bag.

The younger one looked even more awkward, tugging at his brother’s sweater and whispering something before retreating from the cafeteria like there was a kitchen fire. “Just leave them alone,” I said, turning back to my food.

“Says you,” Minho sighed, attempting to shield his hand over his face, but it was apparently too late. “Shit, he saw me!”

“Hmmm?” I only offered him a vague acknowledgment, far too busy keeping my gaze trained on Seo Changbin who had just walked into the dining room - our school’s fighting chance at winning the state baseball championship.

He was way too handsome for his own good - dark hair and eyes, smooth, tanned skin, and a killer smile that could literally melt a girl’s heart. AKA the subject of my best fantasies, and my four-year crush who seemed determined to keep me hooked for the rest of our lives, even if I could do nothing more than admire him from afar.

But then a shadow fell across the table. “Hi!” I heard Minho squeak, dragging my attention away from Changbin to scrutinize the lanky kid who had made his way over to where we sat. “Nice to see you again.”

I was well-versed in the art of Minho lie detection, but the new kid probably had no idea that Minho was less than thrilled with his arrival. Still, nobody deserved to be ridiculed, and I offered him a kind smile. “So, this is who Minho was talking about.”

“M-me?” the new kid stuttered, pointing a finger at himself as the tips of his ears grew even redder. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, and it emphasized the vowel sounds.

“Y/N,” Minho said, clearing his throat. “This is Bang Chan. He’s in the same year as us.”

“Oh?” I mused, and just to tease Minho further, I patted the seat next to me, watching his face drop with a sweet sense of satisfaction. “Sit with us.”

“Really?” Chan asked with wide eyes. It was surprisingly endearing.

“Sure,” I encouraged him, waiting until he was settled before smirking at Minho. “I hope Minho left a good impression.”

“He was nice,” Chan said, and I realized that he was quiet and soft-spoken, but it was cute nonetheless.

“What about me?” I asked, leaning in closer just to hear his breath hitch. “What do you think about me?”

Chan seemed frozen in shock, eyes honed in on the limited space between us. “Oh...” he trailed off, lowering his head but keeping a watch on me from the corner of his eye. “You’re really beautiful.”

My heart did a little flip at his politeness. “That’s sweet of you.”

Chan was clearly embarrassed by his comment, stuffing the mystery meat into his mouth to shut himself up. “Well, we have a good-looking populace,” Minho insisted, and I found his attempt to fish out a compliment to be just as egotistical as his failed attempt to make number one on the cheerleading squad’s most fuckable list.

In fact, I quickly changed the subject before he caused Chan to think less of us (especially me by association). “You’ll meet a lot of people here,” I said. “For the most part, it’s a good school.”

Chan nodded, some of his red color disappearing as he regained his bearings. “So, I guess you’ve both known each other a long time?”

“We’re close,” Minho insisted, and he gave me a mischievous smirk to which I rolled my eyes.

I doubt Chan wanted to know the finer details of just how close we sometimes were with one another.

“He begged me to be his best friend in Elementary school. He stubbed his toe on the swing set!”

“That’s not true,” Minho gasped, and he immediately launched into an explanation to preserve whatever dignity he still had.

Meanwhile, a raucous uproar of laughter from Changbin’s table (the most popular one in the entire dining room for obvious reasons), had me turning my attention to the most perfect man to ever exist, melting over his handsome smile.

I didn’t even care if I was swooning over him - much too occupied to care about Minho’s tirade.

Or to even notice Bang Chan. The new kid from overseas who was pretending to listen to Minho’s conversation. Because he still hadn’t taken his eyes off of me.

For the next week, I couldn’t help but watch over Chan.

Maybe it was because I felt bad for him, and since I had reached out to try and make him comfortable, some distant part of me wanted to make sure that he adjusted.

But I didn’t count on the fact that he was doing a very bad job of fitting in.

From the onset of his first classes, he seemed to become the new and shiny target of every horrible niche bully group in our school - the jocks from the football team, the gym bros who always wore mesh shorts, and even the pricks from the drama department who managed to spill an entire bucket of paint over his head when he inadvertently walked into the wrong entrance of the auditorium.

Hazing was normal around the school, but I had never seen that level of dislike aimed at anyone. Maybe it was because Chan hadn’t grown up with the rest of us? Whatever the reason, the pranks and tricks hardly seemed to be slowing down.

It didn’t help that Chan presented himself as nerdy and quiet, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

The last time they did that, the school administration had the janitor bring out a ladder to reach the top of the gate at the entrance to the school.

When I watched them fetch it from the metal peaks in the parking lot, I studied Chan’s reaction as he waited for his bag. But he didn’t seem upset. If anything, he gave off the impression of someone who wasn’t planning on giving in.

And there was a substantial part of me that warmed at the thought, so I became a silent cheerleader from the sidelines.

It still bothered me that I couldn’t always be there to watch him....But sometimes, there were certain distractions that kept me occupied.

Like meeting Minho in our shared break after lunch. Locking the two of us together in the girl’s bathroom on the third floor above the gym since nobody ever used that one.

It was becoming more and more frequent for us to help get each other off, and I was a practiced pro in the art of seductively batting my eyelashes at him from my knees while he struggled to pull down his pants.

Blow jobs weren’t exactly one of my favorite things - but Minho liked them, and it was an easy way to get him off since I refused to have sex with him.

Losing my virginity would be a special occasion, and the school bathroom hardly qualified.

But Minho didn’t care. He would take anything, and he was already whining and squirming the moment I took his erection between my lips, hollowing my cheeks and sucking hard just the way he liked.

It was almost laughably easy to please Minho. He wasn’t picky when it came to my mouth, and I could get him to beg with just a swipe of my tongue across the head of his cock where he always leaked profuse amounts of pre-cum.

He liked it sloppy and wet, and considering the added element of urgency, I also tried to make it fast since anyone could still come up - even if the door was locked and no one ever bothered to use this bathroom.

Maybe there was also a little part of me that liked the prospect of someone walking in on us together, swallowing him down over and over again with every bob of my head.

I wondered what I looked like to Minho from this angle? Was it sexy to see me like this? With his cock stuffing my cheeks full and forcing spit and other unquestionable liquids to leak from the sides of my mouth?

I could safely assume that it was since Minho was already panting for me that he was close, wrapping his fingers even tighter around the strands of my hair as he forced me to take in the entire length of his cock.

I couldn’t help but choke around the fullness of him, and Minho came with a moan muffled into the sleeve of his shirt, eyes rolling back into his head as his cum spurted into my mouth.

The taste of him was repulsive, and I rushed over to the sink to spit it out, holding tight to the edge of the counter while Minho came up behind me, using one arm to hold me around the middle as his other hand disappeared beneath the waistband of my shorts.

“Do it fast,” I grunted, letting my head fall against the cool glass of the mirror, groaning when his fingers rushed across my clit.

“I got it,” Minho grumbled. He was always mouthy after he came. Plus, he liked to prove that he was more than capable of bringing me to some kind of earth-shattering orgasm. Not that I was ever disappointed with the finished result.

Shivering from head to toe when I could feel myself throbbing, leaking around him and staining my panties.

It’s not like I could help my body’s reaction, bracing my hands against the sink when his hot breath landed on the back of my neck, and one finger teasingly grazed the head of my opening-

“Fuck!” I shouted, shaking all around him, feeling my cunt clenching around nothing. “Christ, Minho.”

“Right?” I could hear him smirking, glaring from the corner of my eye as he turned on the sink to wash his hands.

“Shit.” I reached down to fix my pants, crawling my fingers through my hair to de-tangle the knots he had left.

“What are you doing after school?” he asked casually as if nothing had just happened.

But since this was a no-strings-attached something, I shrugged and told him that I would probably pass out on my bed with a pint of ice cream.

Minho snorted, and he started talking about something to do with a new video game he had been playing, when an unexpected shout from outside the bathroom caught my attention.

It sounded suspiciously like-

“Oh, Bang Chan,” I sighed, ignoring the wrinkles in my shirt as I grabbed my bag and left the restroom.

Stepping outside, I could see him from down the hallway, surrounded by some of the baseball players.

I started to confront them, but then I realized that Changbin was the prime suspect, fingers wrapped in the collar of Chan’s shirt as he brought him closer.

“Come on,” I huffed out loud, knowing that if I intervened, it might ruin my fictitious chances with Changbin...Oh, wait.

“Hey, Changbin,” I said, surprised to find my voice around the person who I had admired from afar for so long. But all my confidence withered into dust when Changbin turned to look at me, one brow lifted in question as he held Chan to his locker.

Well, shit.

“Y/N, right?” he asked, and I tried not to jump on the spot and descend into girlish laughter at the mere idea that my crush knew who I was out of everyone in our school.

“Yeah.” My tone was even. Measured.

Nice job, Y/N!

“I-uh, I don’t think you should be doing that...”

Some of the other baseball players started laughing.

Bad, Y/N!

“What do you mean?” Changbin drawled, eyes narrowed when he glanced back at Chan. “Are you friends with this guy?”

“I-I need him for a project,” I lied, wincing when Changbin let go of Chan to cross his arms.

Did that mean he bought my lie? Was I that convincing as an actress? Holding my breath when Changbin stepped closer.

“Sucks for you,” he chuckled, giving me one last considerate look before nodding at his friends.

I flinched when they walked past me, waiting until they had descended down the stairs before rushing over to Chan.

My heart dropped low inside my chest when I knelt down in front of him. The dam had finally broken. There were wet tears glossing his eyes.

“Oh, Chan,” I said, unsure of what to do as more tears started to fall. “Come with me,” I said, grabbing his arm and sending up a silent prayer when he complied, lending most of his weight against my side as I brought him into the bathroom.

Minho was already gone when I came back inside, and I made sure the door was locked before grabbing the tissues out of my bag, pushing Chan against the counter as I started to wipe away the evidence of his tears.

“I’m sorry about them,” I said to break the silence.

But Chan didn’t utter a single word.

Still, he let me clean him up, using some of my concealer to hide the dark splotches under his eyes.

“Handsome,” I declared, pulling back to look him over.

His gaze finally brightened, looking at me with something akin to awe. “Why did you help me?”

I hesitated because I didn’t really know why I had stood up to Changbin. Maybe it was just the right thing to do, or maybe I liked Chan more than I wanted to admit to myself.

Maybe I wanted to be more to him than just a silent admirer.

“Just stay with me,” I decided, giving Chan an encouraging smile. “Stay with me and they’ll leave you alone.”

“Stay with you,” Chan repeated, gaze full of wonder as his eyes trailed down my face.

“Yeah,” I agreed, smoothing down his sweater. “Stay with me.”

Two Weeks Later

Chan’s car pulled up in front of his house with a staggered groan as the shaking ceased with the kill of his engine. “Sorry about that,” Chan said, chuckling sheepishly as he adjusted his glasses. “Uhm, it used be my mom’s.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though I was certain that we would have to walk after hearing the car literally sigh when Chan toed the gas over 55 miles per hour.

“We can go inside,” he continued, and I studied his modest little house. It was surprisingly cute on the outside - colored a shade that reminded me of the sky at dawn - and there was a little sidewalk leading to the front door where flowers bloomed in a rainbow plethora of colors.

“Did you plant these?” I asked, making easy conversation with Chan since it felt like I could talk to him about anything.

“My mom did,” he said, fumbling for the keys to the front door. I stood aside, squinting at the birdfeeder overhead. “Got it!” Chan grinned triumphantly, and then he was pushing his way inside, and I followed him to greet the wall of air conditioning with a contented sigh.

“You can leave your shoes here,” Chan started, but he was interrupted by the sound of fluttering footsteps on the staircase, and then his younger brother - who I had yet to properly meet - came running down with a huge grin on his face.

One that vanished in the blink of an eye when he realized that Chan wasn’t alone. “This is Felix,” Chan said, making introductions as if he hadn’t realized his brother’s abrupt change in mood.

“Hi,” I offered, holding up a hand in greeting to which Felix took one look at me and snorted as he started back up the stairs. “Okay...” I glanced over at Chan, but he didn’t seem to find the exchange unusual. Instead, he led me into the kitchen for snacks and drinks, and then we went upstairs to his bedroom.

“How adorable!” I remarked when I first walked inside, eyes trained on the neat row of swimming trophies adorning his desk.

“Oh, those,” Chan chuckled, and he seemed nervous for some reason. “Do you like them?”

“Of course!” I agreed. “You must be very good.”

Most of the trophies were either first or second place wins. And I wouldn’t have pinned Chan as the athletic type. But maybe that was something he left behind in Australia.

“I’m decent,” he said, humble as always.

I shrugged since he didn’t seem to want to talk about it, launching myself on top of his bed to sprawl out my limbs like some kind of exaggerated starfish. “Come sit with me.”

Chan was more than willing, even allowing a rare giggle to slip through when I turned onto my side to face him. “What do you like to do at home?”

He seemed considerate, searching along the walls behind me as if the answer might pop out of nowhere. “I like to watch movies.”

“Oh? We could do that if you want,” I suggested. Especially since Chan was the one who invited me over; albeit with the most awkward blush painting his skin red.

“I also have some cool science equipment,” Chan said, and then he immediately changed his mind, stuttering around some half-assed explanation. Like he thought I might find him uncool or something.

“Show me,” I requested, and Chan hesitated for a second before rolling off the bed to hunt through his closet, returning with a tote box.

“This was my first microscope,” Chan said, and he looked proud of himself when he carefully navigated it onto the bed next to me.

“Woah!” I gasped, and it was a genuine reaction to something that looked so expensive and valuable.

There was a level of trust there - if he was allowing me to look at something he clearly cherished.

I took it from him with a delicate touch, messing with the dials on the side while Chan worried his lower lip between his teeth.

“Are you going to prom this year?” Chan asked, seemingly out of nowhere as I continued to gape as his microscope.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not really my thing.”

Prom had always been overrated. At least in my opinion.

But Chan didn’t seem happy with my response. Almost disappointed in a way that I would’ve worried over if it had been about anything else.

“Is that an old treehouse in your backyard?” I asked to change the subject.

Chan hummed in thought. The distraction worked. “Yeah, the previous owners built it for their son,” he explained.

“Can we go look at it?” I asked, and Chan wore an amused smile.

“Sure,” he said, laughing when I struggled to escape the dip of the mattress.

We both walked outside together, shoulders brushing, and, if I really payed attention, a slight feather-like touch between our fingers.

But that could’ve just been my imagination.

“It’s amazing!” I declared upon closer inspection.

The treehouse was small, but it was sturdy. Nestled between two of the biggest branches for support. Made entirely of wood and painted with an array of camouflaged colors.

There was also a ladder hanging down from the opening, and I reached out to take the velvety rope between my fingers. “Let’s go up,” I said, and Chan agreed with a slight incline of his head.

He used a supportive hand on my lower back when I managed to secure one foot on the lowest rung, and it was nice to know that he was watching over me as I climbed the ladder.

Once inside, I ignored the smell of the rotting wood, sitting with my legs crossed under me as I peeked out the window overlooking the house. It was a nice view up here, and it almost felt like I was on top of the world.

Chan joined me with a gasp, looking around as if he hadn’t been expecting something that could’ve popped out of a storybook. “I’ve never been up here,” he admitted, crawling across the floor to sit next to me.

I took advantage of his closeness, snuggling up close to Chan, unaware of the blush on his skin as he stared down at me. “This can be our spot,” I said.

His breath tickled the top of my head. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Our spot.”

Despite my best efforts, Chan must’ve figured out that I had a weak spot for him. That was the only possible explanation I could come up with for the unexpected surprise that he had for me the next afternoon we met.

“Consider this our debut as friends,” I had told Chan when he surprised me with prom tickets, muttering something about how he wanted to experience more of America’s culture.

It sounded like total bullshit, but I entertained him nonetheless.

I had been doing a lot of that in recent weeks. Doing things for him that I normally wouldn’t do for anyone else. Even for Minho.

But Chan made it easy to like him - to want to do nice things for him and keep him near me so that the other students eventually backed off because maybe they had some semblance of respect for Y/N.

That was probably due to my close association with Minho who was fairly popular among the art students.

In any case, I had never liked the idea of Prom. Especially when our school got involved. Decorating the gym with cheap party things from the dollar store and serving candy snacks on the bleachers.

This year wasn’t any different, arriving fifteen minutes after the doors opened, and I almost laughed at the pure fascination in Chan’s eyes. “Do you really like it?” I asked, and he nodded, mouth agape.

“It’s so cool!” he gushed, and I tried not to say anything to destroy that lovely smile. Chan didn’t deserve to have his spirits crushed just because I had some terrible experience with the school’s half-assed attempt to make something decent out of prom.

“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, wondering if someone had already taken the liberty of spiking the punch bowl.

“Let’s dance,” he suggested instead with obvious giddiness. Like it was the greatest idea ever.

But nobody ever danced at these things. If they did, then it was in-sync with the cha-cha slide. Or grinding somewhat theatrically bad against an uncertain partner.

No, I wasn’t much for dancing. Even if his puppy dog eyes were hard to resist.

“Alright,” I gave in, letting out an unattractive squeal when he rushed us both onto the dancefloor.

Thankfully, there were only a few couples scattered around. Moving to the music and rocking back and forth as they raised their voices above the noise of the music. Ignoring the DJs enthusiasm for everyone to “jump up and down” and “scream.”

He might’ve been the same dude who worked at the convenience store down the road.

“Come here,” Chan said, dragging me close with a surprising amount of confidence that I chalked up to him being unable to conceal his enthusiasm. “I’ve been practicing,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, and it was impossible not to share his happiness while looking at his smile.

“How will I keep up?” I wondered. But Chan seemed more than willing to take the lead, slowing down our pace even if the EDM background music called for something a little more exciting.

Maybe Chan had practiced with someone who taught formal ballroom dancing, but it still made my heart skip a beat when he wrapped one hand around my waist and held the other with a strong grip. “I thought it might impress you.”

“Impress me?” I was surprised by Chan’s confession. Why would he bother going to such lengths to impress someone like me? “Well, I have to give you a lot of credit. I figured you’d be the type to have two left feet.”

“I think you’ve got that covered,” he giggled, and I rolled my eyes playfully.

“Unlike your formal trainings, I learned exclusively from the Just Dance tutorials.”

Chan snorted, and he started laughing full on shoulder-shaking guffaws that had him allowing little giggles to escape between deep breaths. “I’m just glad to be here with you.”

“Cheesy,” I grumbled, but Chan didn’t seem to care. He just kept moving us around like we were long-lost lovers who had finally come back to each other. Running in time to a different beat than the other students, lost in the intimate aspect of each other’s closeness.

“This is nice,” I admitted, resting my head against his shoulder, ignoring the way his breath tickled the side of my neck.

There was a new song playing over the speakers, and as the DJ announced the song, I could’ve sworn that Chan started to say something...

“I like you a lot, Y/N,” he might’ve said.

But I couldn’t be sure if those words had been meant for me to hear.

One Year Later

On our first night of college, Minho invited Chan and me to a frat party off campus, and I was more than ready to experience my first big college event.

“Come with us, Channie,” I begged him, but Chan seemed resolutely opposed, already neck-deep in his medical books.

“I think I’ll be better not going,” Chan said, and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s part of the experience!”

“To drink spiked punch and worry about drunk students grinding against everything that moves?”

I threw up my hands. “Does that not sound like fun?”

Chan looked at me with the same sternness that he always wore whenever he couldn’t believe something that I said. “Y/N, I don’t think you understand my definition of fun?”

“Reading your big ass textbooks and drinking too much coffee?”

Chan smiled. “You go have fun. Call me when you inevitably change your mind.”

“Yeah, right,” I grumbled, zipping up my jacket on the way out the door.

There was no way that I would ever admit to Chan that he was right about something I clearly wanted more than anything, even if I did end up hating the party later on. But that seemed unlikely since Minho had insisted that the guy who invited us always procured the best booze and DJ.

For the most part, Minho knew what he talking about when it came to late-night entertainment, and I trusted him.

But there was definitely something different about this particular night. I could feel it deep in my bones, wanting nothing more than to rush through the crowd of students already loitering the road leading up to the frat house.

I could tell we were at the right place since the music roared from inside, and there was a distinct smell of weed in the air.

Even though my heart was pounding at the prospect of whatever waited inside. Because there was a visible tension surrounding the place. Something electric and thrilling.

“Wow!” I remarked when we came even closer, and I could see that there were hundreds of students already moving through the house when we managed to make our way inside and even more spilling out into the lawn.

“This is awesome!” I exclaimed, holding tight to Minho’s arm as he drug us closer to the kitchen where a bunch of kids were mixing the drinks.

“Try this,” he encouraged me, pushing the solo cup into my hands.

I drank without hesitation, wincing at the rancid taste. “It’s strong,” I said over a couching fit and Minho giggled at me.

He had already been drinking even before we got here. “I see someone I know. Let me introduce you.”

I agreed, ignoring the people bumping into us. I mean, it was all part of the experience, right? And I put on my best smile when Minho brought me to his cool older friends. They accepted me quickly, inviting us to play beer pong which rapidly escalated into me losing every bit of coherency as I swayed back and forth and ended up tossing several balls into the swimming pool.

Minho found it hilarious, even as a small voice warned at the back of my head warned me that I might’ve been teetering on the edge of alcoholic demise.

“I think I drank too much,” I groaned, following Minho up the stairs with a headache pounding away at my skull.

“You just need fresh air,” Minho said, and he brought me into one of few empty bedrooms where he struggled to open one of the windows.

It was at that same moment that a random girl streaked by the room with squeal. “There’s a fight outside!”

“Shit!” Minho cursed, and he tapped me on the side of the face to get my attention. “Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“Whatever,” I grumbled. It was just like Minho to go chase ass while I felt like puking my guts out.

For a moment, the thought of calling Chan to come and get me crossed my mind, but I brushed it aside with a groan. I didn’t need the headache of him teasing me and telling me that he had been right all along.

Stupid Chan and his common sense.

I huffed at the thought, glancing over to my left when I realized that there was a balcony connected to the bedroom. It would sure as hell feel better than the tiny window that Minho had left open for me.

“Oh!” I stumbled over a rise in the doorway, collecting myself before giving it a glare. The sliding glass door had opened without difficulty, and I leaned against the railing, glancing down at the huge crowd that had probably gathered for a fight.

It had been a fight...isn’t that what the girl said?

I shook my head, finding it hard to concentrate. The wind was helping, and I craned my head back to notice that the breeze was stronger higher up. “Must be nice,” I said, and I held tight to the sides of the poles, lifting myself onto the edge of the rail. I stood precariously on the tips of my toes, looking down at the students littered across the lawn.

“I’m King of the world,” I giggled, holding out my arms to welcome the added height.

But I realized my mistake a moment too late.

I should’ve never let go of the stupid poles.

It only took me a second to realize that my feet were no longer on solid ground, and then I was falling, landing on my back in those poorly-kept bushes. There was a flash of pain and then I blacked out.

And the next time I woke-up, it was to the sight of bright, halogen lights and the unforgettable smell of ammonia.

I started hating hospitals after that.

Two months later

When Chan spoke about his new roommate over the phone, I could hardly discern whether or not he was even a real person.

His name was Han Jisung, and he thought that he might like to be a medical student....but he was afraid of needles.

He’d also maybe like to be an author...but he really didn’t like to write that much.

An enigma, I decided, suited him the best.

“Are you excited to meet him?” Chan asked as he drove us to his apartment.

“Sure,” I shrugged. “Can’t wait.”

“You’ll like him,” Chan decided as if he had been putting a lot of thought into whether or not I would approve. “How is your arm?”

I frowned, glaring down at the cast as if personally offended. “You still haven’t signed it.”

“Sorry,” Chan said, and I didn’t even need to look up to know that he was smiling. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“You better.” But it was tough to be stern with Chan when he hadn’t done anything wrong. After all, it was my fault that I had gotten shitfaced enough to toss myself from the balcony on the top floor of a stranger’s house. “If he asks why my arm is fucked up, then we tell him that I hurt it playing basketball or something cool.”

“Why?” Chan asked with a mischievous smirk. “Is your story not cool enough?”

“Just drive,” I grumbled. Ignoring the sound of his laughter.

The morning I came home from the hospital, Chan had been there at the door of his apartment to give me his absolute best ‘I told you so’ look. But at least he wasn’t the type to hold it against me. For the rest of that day, Chan let me stay over so that he could practice being a good doctor and babying me like I was five instead of eighteen.

The entire day was nothing but constant cuddles, soapy TV dramas, and copious amounts of ice cream. Yet, when the sun had started to set, I managed to ask him why his roommate hadn’t come home yet. To which Chan responded by telling me that the notorious Han Jisung never had a good reason for anything that he did.

Which brings us to the present. Because Chan had insisted that I meet Jisung. And he was supposed to be hanging around their apartment all day working on music.

“This guy...” I started, trailing off as I searched for the right words. “He isn’t like going to preach to me about the history of arm casts like you did, right?”

Chan rolled his eyes, pulling into a parking spot outside his complex with a sigh. “Guess you’ll find out.”

“Will you help me?” I pouted, holding out my arms and puckering my lips.

Chan shook his head. “You’re impossible.”

But he still came around to my side of the car and offered me a hand so that I could save a bit of face without struggling to remove myself from a vehicle that sat two inches off the road.

He even kept an arm around my waist as we ascended the steps because Chan lived on the third floor, juggling his keys with his free hand to unlock the door.

I groaned in relief when I felt the air-conditioning, moving through the kitchen to the sounds of voices coming from the living room.

The sight that awaited me marked my first impression of Han Jisung - a smaller guy with poufy brown hair and puffed-out cheeks chowing down on cup ramen noodles while watching what looked like Days of Our Lives.

“Oh, hi,” I said, drawing his attention. “I didn’t realize this was a retirement home.”

“Ha-ha,” Chan huffed, following me with a grunt. “You couldn’t think of anything better?”

“I thought it was good,” I muttered under my breath while Chan proceeded to make introductions.

“Jisung, this is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Careful,” I warned him. “Minho won’t like you claiming that title.”

“I’m cooler than Minho.” It was apparently Chan’s turn to sound like a grumpy old man.

“Oh, Y/N!” Jisung sat up straighter - like he just thought to look presentable. “It’s nice to meet you! Chan talks about you all the time.”

“Woah!” Chan exclaimed, waving around his hands frantically while his ears grew red. “Not all the time, Sungie.”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Jisung was on his feet in an instant, knocking his knee into the coffee table and sending his juice bottle into the floor.

It would likely stain the carpet.

Chan frowned at the mess while Jisung stood right in front of me. “You’re not gonna, like, stay here all the time, right?”

“No,” I said. “I have my own dorm room.”

“Good, cuz’ Chan and I want to keep the place clean.”

“Right,” I chuckled. Since the whole place smelled like a wet gym sock without my intervention. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Same.” Jisung stuck out his hand, and I reluctantly held it my own. “I’ll be a doctor one day,” he proudly declared.

“Sure,” I grumbled.

Like that would ever happen.

Three months later

Despite the set-back at the party - which my parents still hadn’t forgiven me for - I had settled into somewhat of a routine around my class schedule.

I figured at this point that I had a good handle on the faces that started to populate my courses. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Not until he stepped into one of my morning classes.

In fact, one of the last things I expected was to see an 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?”

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen-ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too…” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends.

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music.

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the café.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

I never kept anything from Chan.

It was an unspoken promise between us - that we would always remain open and honest with the other as part of our mutual understanding.

Which was why it hurt me to keep Changbin such a big secret from him, and I had lost count of the number of times I had lied to Chan on the phone. Cancelling lunches and study sessions in exchange for meeting Changbin at his off-campus apartment and kissing his perfect lips until mine were numb.

“Sounds like guilt to me,” Minho remarked one afternoon when we met outside our next class.

“Just shut it,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest. “What do you know?”

“For once, I guess I know more than you.” Minho sighed. He sounded tired. It was very un-Minho like of him.

“I just don’t want Chan to feel like I betrayed him.”

“Yeah? Well, you can’t hide it from him forever, Y/N,” Minho pointed out, and I lowered my head because he was right.

But that didn’t make it any easier to find the right opportunity to break the news to Chan.

After all, when was the right time to tell your friend that you were seeing the guy who sometimes bullied him in high school? Chan would be furious when he found out.

Except Minho was, for once, very much right about the need to tell Chan that I was seeing Changbin.

So the very next time I managed to meet Chan in our favorite restaurant next to campus, I searched for the right combination of words that would break the news to him in a very gentle and, hopefully, forgiving manner.

Thankfully, Chan was in a good mood, chattering on and on about his favorite lab teacher. For a while, I let him talk, nodding when it seemed appropriate and trying not to sweat too much on my palms.

“Channie,” I eventually interrupted him, hiding behind the menu with my leg jumping under the table. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hmmm?” Chan looked up with a mouthful of food, and I figured it was my best chance since he couldn’t immediately voice his opposition.

“I -uh - I’m dating Seo Changbin.”

“Wha-” Chan started choking around his lunch, full on body shaking as he thumped his fist against his chest.

All I could do was push his water glass closer to him, encouraging him to drink before he actually died in the middle of the restaurant.

It was even more tense to watch his eyes narrow as he pushed down the remainder of his food with several long pulls of his drink. “When the hell did this happen?”

“Uh, recently?” I winced at his harsh exhale. “C’mon Channie! One you get to know Changbin better, you’ll see that he’s not bad.”

“The guy who tried to lay his hands on me in high school?” Chan scoffed at the mere notion. “Out of everyone on campus, you choose the most pompous, the most arrogant, the most...” He growled when he couldn’t think of a better synonym. “He’s an asshole Y/N.”

I searched for something to say in return, but all I could offer was a very lame: “But he’s my asshole?”

Chan rolled his eyes. “When did you start hanging around Changbin?”

“We’re in the same science class.”

“Okay? Do you just hang out at the back of the lecture hall? Exchange cute notes and phone numbers?”

I was surprised by the venom in Chan’s tone. I knew that he didn’t like Changbin, but to this extent? “I really really like him, Chan. You know I had a crush on him in high school.”

“How could I forget?” Chan grouched, frowning down at his food.

“You’ll have to get used to seeing him around,” I continued, trying to ignore the deteriorating state of Chan’s previous excitement.

“Get used to it?” Chan seemed entirely displeased by that proposition. “Is it already that serious?”

“That I want to spend time with my boyfriend?”

“So soon?”

I blinked once. “Well, the whole point of dating someone is to spend time with them and get to know them better.”

“But Seo Changbin.”

Yeah, he wasn’t thrilled. Not that I could blame him. But for my sake, since he knew very well how much I liked him, couldn’t he at least try to be a little more enthused?

“I’m not trying to fight,” I said, lowering down the menu. “I thought you should know, and I hope you can at least pretend to be happy for me.”

“I can’t even pretend,” Chan snipped, and I was a little hurt that he wasn’t even trying. “I have homework I need to do.”

“Okay,” I said, even though Chan was already leaving, and I watched him disappear outside with a heavy sense of foreboding.

This hadn’t gone well at all.

One Month Later

Comparative literature at 8:00 AM meant that I was only half-awake while listening to my professor’s tedious lecture on basic grammatical applications. I resisted the urge to yawn while I girlishly drew Changbin’s name at the top of my notebook surrounded by numerous little hearts. We had only been together for six months, but I couldn’t help the way I felt whenever I remembered his adorable smile.

“We’ll talk about the history of the oxford comma next week!” my professor announced at the end of our designated course time.

“Won’t that be a treat?” I grumbled, gathering my things before joining my classmates in a mad scramble for the exit.

I had plans to meet Changbin for lunch that day, and I was incredibly excited because Changbin never liked to meet me in public. He preferred to keep our relationship between the two of us, and I could never tell him that it sometimes bothered me that he wanted it to remain a secret. Nevertheless, today’s lunch promised a potential change in our relationship status, and I was determined to make it to the dining hall before Changbin. After all, if it were my decision, then I would walk around with Changbin all day while passionately declaring him as mine.

But standing outside of the dining hall, I reached for my cell phone with every intention of calling Changbin, when a familiar voice called out my name from further down the sidewalk. “Y/N!”

I hesitated when I saw Chan walking in my direction. “Channie,” I greeted him, trying to appear indifferent. “What’s up?”

“I just got out of a three hour exam,” Chan said. “I’m fucking starving. You wanna grab something? My treat, of course.”

“I’m meeting Changbin for lunch,” I said, and Chan immediately glowered.

“Really?” he grumbled. “We always eat lunch together.”

“Don’t be jealous,” I teased him. “You could always join us, I’m sure Changbin wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” Chan said with the same frigid tone that he always reserved for our conversations concerning Seo Changbin.

“Watch it,” I warned him. “You know that I like him.”

“Yeah? Well he’s an arrogant and egotistical-”

“There you are!”

I grinned like an idiot in love when Changbin swooped in from behind me, holding me against his chest with one strong arm. “Binnie!” I greeted him, turning my head to the side so that he could press a gentle kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Who’s this?” Changbin asked, looking at Chan with a curious expression.

Chan was positively fuming while I felt nothing short of embarrassment that Changbin had forgotten, yet again, the name of my best friend. “You know him,” I said, attempting to play it off like a joke. “He’s my best friend?”

“Your friend?” Changbin repeated, snapping his fingers as he tried to find the name he was looking for.

“Chan,” I offered, smiling politely in his direction, even though Chan’s entire expression was suddenly less than pleasant.

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” he muttered, glaring once more at Changbin before he disappeared into the surrounding crowd of students.

Later that night, I walked to Changbin’s apartment at his request, and it didn’t take him long to drag me into his bedroom. It was like a weightless descent when I fell back against the bed with my arms outstretched. I giggled when he hovered on top of me, kissing me with too much tongue, but it felt nice when I could feel his erection through his skinny jeans.

“You look beautiful,” Changbin said, and I practically preened from his compliment, helping him adjust my skirt and panties so that he could sink his cock into my awaiting heat.

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed because Changbin had an unbelievable amount of dexterity in his hips and he moved against me with practiced movements.

I closed my eyes when I felt my orgasm approaching, reaching between us to give my clit some necessary stimulation before I was coming hard while Changbin filled the condom with an exhausted grunt.

“You’re so good, Y/N,” Changbin said, helping us both relax against the bed while I glued myself against his side in post-orgasmic bliss.

“That was nice,” I whispered bashfully to fill the quiet between us.

“Mmm,” Changbin hummed, allowing me to run my fingernails up and down the bare expanse of his chest. The accompanying silence was soothing as I felt my eyelids start to close, until Changbin had to ruin everything. “Your friend was really pissed this morning.”

I froze at the mention of Chan. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think he likes me,” Changbin continued. “He always acts like the world’s biggest asshole.”

I swallowed hard because there was a big part of me that didn’t like the way that Changbin was talking about Chan. “Well, you did forget his name…”

“You spend too much time with him,” Changbin interrupted, and I felt a peculiar jab of irritation at his comment.

“He’s my friend,” I said, trying not to let my annoyance show.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Changbin scoffed. “It’s obvious that he likes you.”

“Well, yeah, we’ve been friends for a long time.”

Changbin smirked. “You’re so naive.”

I bristled at the insinuation, but the sudden chime of my cell phone provided a necessary distraction. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand to glance at the screen, hesitating when I noticed Chan’s contact name. “What does he want this time?” Changbin asked with a gruff voice that only managed to annoy me even further.

“Y/N,” Chan yelled when I eventually answered. “Where are you?”

I frowned. “Channie?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Chan said with a giggle. “I’m drinking with Han.”

“It sounds like it,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

I hung up the phone and ignored Changbin who started complaining when I fixed my clothes. “Are you really leaving me for him?” Changbin asked, but I chose not to offer a response, and I left him half-naked on his bed while I walked the remaining miles to Chan and Han’s apartment.

“What the fuck, Han?” I asked, leaving no room for pleasantries when I greeted him at the door.

Jisung cleared his throat anxiously before leading me into the living room. “I don’t know, he seemed all sad so I thought we could drink.”

“You’re the worst friend,” I informed him bluntly, sighing when I noticed that Chan was lying on the couch with his shirt thrown on the floor.

“He said he was hot!” Jisung defended himself, throwing up his hands when I glared at him.

“Do you have somewhere else to go?” I snapped at him.

“Well, I gotta buy more beer since he drank it all,” Jisung said, and he grabbed his keys from the counter. “Watch him until I get back.”

“Yeah, no problem,” I snarked, and I waited for him to close the door before I joined Chan in the living room.

“Y/N!” Chan smiled, reaching for my arm to pull me closer. “What have you been up to?”

“Channie,” I said, clearing my throat anxiously. “You’re drunk.”

“But ‘m fine,” he replied, leaning in closer, and I could feel his hot breath against my throat. “You look beautiful, but you smell like that asshole.”

I pushed against his shoulder, meeting his gaze. “Why are you doing this? You’re studying to be a doctor! What’s going to happen to your liver, Chan?”

“I guess I forgot,” Chan said with a playful smirk as he studied me through lidded eyes. “I had a dream about you last night.”

“Oh?”

“You had less clothes on.”

“Chan!” I exclaimed, shoving him harshly and he fell over with a dramatic exclamation.

“Wheeee!”

“Jesus, Han.” I sighed yet again. “He shouldn’t let you drink this much.”

“Y/N,” Chan said, looking up at me playfully. “Guess what?”

“What?” I asked, entertaining his drunken stupor.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and I narrowed my eyes.

“I don’t think so.”

“Really?” Chan asked, launching himself at me from across the couch and I had no time to prepare for the sudden addition of his weight.

“Chan!” I complained, but my next words were stolen away by the intense pressure of Chan’s lips as he started kissing me feverishly with far more coordination than I would expect from someone this drunk. Regardless, I turned my head to the side to break our unexpected kiss, and Chan’s face fell into the crook of my neck. “Channie?”

I heard him sniffle, and my heart broke at the pain in his tone. “Why don’t you like me more than him, Y/N? It’s getting harder to be your friend.”

I didn’t know how to respond to his sudden confession, but eventually his cries turned into delicate snores and I realized that Chan had fallen asleep next to me. I readjusted our positions, looking down at his puffy eyes and the tears that had stained trails down his face. He looked nothing short of angelic, and I remembered his earnest declaration while comparing it to the way Changbin spoke to me earlier with such unequivocal coldness.

In the end, I was left feeling more confused than ever before.

Two Months Later

Fuck Seo Changbin.

Fuck Facebook.

Fuck Mark Zuckerberg.

And fuck that sleazy, slutty, insert more insults here, cheerleader who slept with my boyfriend and then had the balls to post about it online.

It was humiliating, waking up that morning to the sound of a thousand phone notifications pulling me from sleep. Normally, I didn’t bother answering my phone before my alarm, but I also wasn’t used to seeing so many people tagging me in what seemed to be the same post.

But I wished I had never opened it.

Because seeing Changbin in bed with one of the school’s most popular cheerleaders made my skin crawl and my heart split into two halves.

There was nothing in this world comparable to the feeling of losing someone you thought had cared about you.

The same person who had made countless promises to stay true and loyal to you.

Yeah, okay. Apparently, his idea of loyalty was far more perverted than mine.

The worst part of it all was the notion that I had been the one to sit on the receiving end of such blatant disrespect - scrolling through the comments making fun of me and calling me horrible names.

I blocked each and every one of them. But nothing made the pain stop.

For an entire week, I had been holed up inside my room, refusing to go to classes or even leave and find something more appetizing than ramen noodles. It felt like I deserved it - to suffer alone in silence. Obviously, Changbin didn’t feel bad. He stopped texting me after I sent him a very long message calling him every last name in the book before asking him to kindly jump off a cliff.

But seeing that I couldn’t stop monitoring his social media - he hadn’t taken that advice to jump off the cliff yet - I knew that he was still very much alive and giddy with his latest conquest. Just seeing the two together churned and grinded something hot inside my chest. Shame licking at the flames.

And the only people who tried to make me feel better were Minho and Chan. But I kept them away too, refusing to respond to their calls and voicemails. Ignoring them knocking at the door to my little dorm room, yelling my name until they eventually conceded defeat.

But I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I just wanted the Earth to open up and swallow me whole. It’s not like Changbin would miss me.

“Oh, fuck him,” I snapped, grabbing another one of the darts and flinging it at the board attached to the back of my desk chair where I taped a picture of his stupid smug face.

This time, the dart managed to pierce one of his eyes. And it kinda made me feel better. But not enough to leave my self-imposed prison of isolation.

I sighed and leaned back against the headboard of my XL Twin bed. The springs in the mattress squeaked, and I wondered if they might collapse and bring me down with them.

But when nothing catastrophic happened, I reached for my phone. This was the part of my day where I scrolled through Changbin’s Instagram and fumed over posts of him and his new girlfriend. Reading through the comments so that I could block anyone who dared to mention my name.

“Smug asshole,” I muttered, and I returned to the home screen to refresh my feed.

The loading icon appeared and disappeared and left behind a recent picture of Chan, sitting in one of his favorite spots in the library. I should know since I sometimes accompanied him when I felt productive.

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth when I read Chan’s caption: “Something’s missing” it said.

Then, I noticed how sad Chan looked, and I pulled up his contact name to sort through his text messages.

He still texted everyday despite knowing that I wouldn’t answer:

From Channie:

Hey, Y/N, I heard about what happened with Changbin. Call me, okay? So we can talk?

From Channie:

Y/N. Please answer my calls.

From Channie:

Are you okay, Y/N? Just let me know that you’re okay!

From Channie:

Y/N, are you eating? I went to all of your classes to explain the situation to your professors. I’ve been keeping up with your assignments.

From Channie:

Kinda miss seeing you around the apartment. You could always come over?

From Channie:

I left something for you outside your dorm? I hope it makes you feel better

From Channie:

I guess you’re not a fan of plushies?

From Channie:

Y/N. Just tell me what I can do to make it better

I stopped reading the messages when I realized that I had started crying. There was a fist locked around my throat, and I felt like the worst person in the world for abandoning the rest of the world because one bad person in it had abandoned me.

But there was someone who still wanted me around, and I picked up my phone to dial his number.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook.

My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight that I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations…“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused.

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All of my relationships have been complete failures.”

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

I held tighter to his waist. “The right guy?”

“Someone who can make you better,” Chan whispered, and I was all to aware of the intimate nature of the moment.

“Are you the right guy?” I dared to ask him, remembering all the moments where he had pushed the boundaries of our friendship, including the night I went to his apartment and he drunkenly kissed me.

“I want to be,” he said - the first time he had ever confessed - and it was so sweet that I started crying all over again.

I took a bath in Chan’s apartment, savoring the warm water because it effectively washed away the sadness that had been weighing down on my shoulders.

It also gave me time to think about everything that Chan had said when he found me. Saying all those things about being the right guy when my brain was still cautioning me against pursuing any sort of relationship.

But maybe it was time to stop listening to that little voice in my head since it had made up so many scenarios involving me and Changbin together.

I sighed, studying my fingers. They were getting wrinkles from being submerged for too long.

“Hey, Y/N.”

I heard Chan’s voice through the bathroom door. He was probably worried about me. I must’ve been in here longer than I thought.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still okay? I have food out here.”

I almost laughed - leave it to Chan to try and entice me with takeout. “Give me a sec.”

He was quiet after that, and I drained the water - reaching for the towel he had brought me and a fresh pair of clothes. They were his, of course, so they fell a little too big on me.

But it was better than nothing, and I trudged from the bathroom, letting my socked feet slide along the floor.

I perked up at the enticing smell of fast food, hurrying my pace to the kitchen where Chan was already eating. “Hey,” he said when I sat down next to him.

“Hi.”

I reached out to grab a chicken drumstick, mouth salivating before even taking the first bite. “What do you think about me kicking Seo’s ass?”

I snorted around a laugh. “Let’s just forget about him.”

Chan frowned, but didn’t push it; instead, one kind hand reached around me to stroke his fingers up and down my spine. The gesture was so soothing that I almost started crying again. “You just need to sleep,” Chan said. “The brain’s neural signals-”

“Chan,” I interrupted before he could start a very long lecture. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Chan reached out for the biscuits, pushing them in my direction.

I took one with a smile. “Cuz’ you were right about Changbin and you totally have every reason to rub it on.”

“I’m not gonna do that to you when you’re sad,” Chan said. “Plus, you thought Changbin was good. Maybe I can’t justify arguing against someone who has a good enough heart to see the best in people.”

“But I deserve it,” I said with a sad little sigh. “I locked myself up and acted like a lovesick teenager.”

“He hurt you, Y/N,” Chan said. “People react to that kind of hurt in different ways. Your experiences are justified just because you have a right to be heard.”

I sniffled. But I wouldn’t cry again. “The things you said to me tonight were really sweet. I’ve never realized it before, but you’ve always taken care of me, even when I never acknowledged it.”

“I don’t take care of you to get a gold star or something,” Chan chuckled, playfully gasping in mock pain when I nudged him with my arm. “I take care of you because I want to.”

“You’ll be a good doctor, Channie,” I said, and then I leaned in closer to feel his warmth. “Did you mean that last thing you said?”

His inhale was sharp. “You’ll have to remind me.”

I hummed because I knew that he hadn’t forgotten. “The part where you said you wanted to be the right person for me.”

Chan was quiet, but I could still hear his even breathing and the drumming of his heart. “I’ve kinda felt like that for a long time.”

I figured that much. It all made sense when I wasn’t blinding myself with all sorts of barriers and masks. I could see it all with perfect clarity. “Do you want to be with me like that?”

Chan’s throat bobbed and I could feel his gaze on the top of my head. “I was serious, Y/N,” he said. “Whenever you’re ready to try again. I’d love it if you tried things with me.”

“Oh.” I reached out for his hand. Whatever he was saying was entirely foreign to me, but his touch was always the same. “Do you, like, want to go on dates with me?”

Chan chuckled. “Yeah, maybe one of those.”

“Just one little date?”

“That’s all I’ll give myself,” Chan admitted. “If I think about it too much, then I’d get selfish and ask for all the dates you’d want to give me.”

I tried not to think about that last part, snuggling even closer to him. I held up my pinky finger, ignoring his disbelieving scoff. “Okay,” I agreed, linking my pinky with his. “One little date.”

“Yeah?” Chan’s breath was hot against the place where my hair parted to the side, and I closed my eyes as I let him do what he did best: holding me close and taking care of me.

“Where the hell is he taking you?”

I shrugged, glancing over at Minho who wore a scary-looking scowl as he drove. Apparently, Minho had proclaimed himself my designated driver. Especially since he discovered that I was letting Chan take me out on a date.

He had been shocked when I told him. “Bang?” I remember him screeching like some sort of banshee. “Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, him,” I had grunted, annoyed with his loud (and not so indoor) voice.

“This part of town looks suspicious,” Minho grunted, drawing me from my thoughts.

“Why?” I laughed, finding the idea hilarious since plenty of students on campus frequented the downtown district on the weekends.

“I’ve got a bad feeling,” Minho said when he pulled up to the sidewalk near the address Chan had given me. “Keep me updated with lots of messages!”

“Yes, Dad,” I grumbled, shouldering open the door and ignoring the “advice” he was yelling at me until I managed to silence him with one glare.

“Fine, but don’t blame me if shit hits the fan!”

I slammed the door, turning my back on Minho as I walked down the sidewalk, ducking onto one of the alleyways that connected to the little village area behind the bustling main road. Back here, it was a bit quieter - much less hectic - and I could see colorful lights up ahead.

But it wasn’t until I was standing outside the venue that I realized where he had taken me. Chan’s idea of a first date was so surprisingly him that I almost started laughing.

“Y/N!” I looked to the side at the sound of Chan’s voice, watching him bound over to me like an overeager deer.

“You brought me to play mini golf?” I immediately questioned him.

“Yeah?” He reached around to nervously tussle the longer strands of his hair. “Do you not like it?”

I tried not to smile since he looked so uncertain. Even if the sight of little kids running around without supervision while waving their golf clubs in the air made me want to turn around and demand Chan take us somewhere else.

“Sounds like fun,” I said instead, charging ahead of him to the ticket booth.

Chan trailed behind, and I knew that he was trying to determine whether or not I was lying to him again. Hopefully, I looked as indifferent as I did inside my head.

“I’m paying,” he insisted, bumping his hip into mine to pay the fee.

As if it had been outrageously expensive or something. But I let Chan play the part of a perfect gentleman, picking out my golf club and a pink-colored ball.

“I hope you’re not trying to impress me with the tips you get paid at the café,” I said.

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?”

He looked genuinely confused, and I was struck by the thought that this might be Chan’s very first date. “Have you done this before?”

“Mini golf?”

I tried not to roll my eyes. “Not mini golf!” I lowered my voice. “Dating.”

Based on the way his ears burned at the tips, I knew that he hadn’t. “I know enough,” he said, grabbing a random club with a determined look. “Come on,” he continued, grabbing my hand and pulling me along to the course titled “Beginner.”

“Oh? Are you out of practice?” I teased, leaning against my golf club while Chan dropped his ball on the green.

He straightened his shoulders, eyes narrowed as he focused on the hole. But there was something comical about watching Chan focus so hard on mini golf, teeth pulling at his lip.

“Good job,” I said when the bottom of his club made contact with the ball, sending it flying to the other end. It circled around the hole before coming to a stop right next to its mark. “So close, Channie.”

“Like you can do better,” Chan said, stepping out of the way to make room for me on the green.

I dropped my ball with a sigh. “Well, it has been a while...”

But I held my club with the confidence of a girl who knew what she was doing. Looking back at Chan to see that his gaze was trained downward. “Are you staring at my ass?” I peeked at him over my shoulder, watching his entire face turn as red as a tomato.

“I-I’m not!” he spluttered, and I laughed and re-focused on the game, lining up my target before swinging my club.

The ball had just enough power, tapping Chan's to the side as it landed inside the plastic hole. “Looks like I’m ahead,” I remarked.

“Not for long,” Chan said, but his tone was playful, and I felt myself loosening up as we made our way through the course, teasing one another over our stances.

I kept up with the score, snatching the little book away when Cha tried to peak inside. “You’ll know when we’re done,” I assured him.

But after adding up all our points at the end, and realizing that Chan would lose by one stroke, I looked up to meet his wide and expectant eyes. “You won,” I said, tossing the book into the trash. “Guess I am out of practice.”

Chan celebrated with a ridiculous fist pump that I prayed no one else had noticed. “You weren’t bad though,” Chan added as if he couldn’t resist tossing me a compliment.

The other way around, I would’ve rubbed it in for the rest of the night. Maybe that’s why I let Chan win. Or, maybe I was softer for him than I initially thought. Either way, he was in a good mood, and a happy Chan was nice to see, dragging me across the street to the little ice cream store.

“My treat,” he insisted, pulling out his wallet as if I wouldn’t feel bad for making Chan spend all his hard-earned money on me.

“One scoop of chocolate,” I said when we approached the register.

“Two scoops,” Chan interrupted, ignoring my scoff. “Same for me please.”

“Sure thing,” the cashier agreed, and Chan paid and we waited for our cones before walking outside, quickly licking up the sweet goodness because it had already started to melt.

“You’re making a mess,” Chan laughed, and I could feel the whipped cream on my top lip, but I had no time to reach for a napkin because Chan was already swiping it away with his thumb. “Try not to wear your dessert next time, sweetie.”

“Sweetie?” I immediately questioned, and Chan paused as if suddenly realizing what he said.

“Oh....” he trailed off, looking a little bit lost as if he didn’t even know where that had come from.

“I like it,” I said, linking my arm through his. “It’s a good nickname.”

“You do?” Chan seemed stunned. “I mean, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable...”

“It’s like those cutesy nicknames that couples give each other,” I said, finishing the rest of my ice cream with a smile. “I’ll have to think of one for you.”

“Yeah?” Chan was already blushing, tossing out his melted cone. “I’m okay with Channie.”

“Are you?” I hummed. “Then I’ll stick with that one.”

“Cuz’ we’re a couple?” Chan was clearly waiting for me to make it explicit, so I did the only thing I could think of that would reassure him. Reaching up to lock one hand through his curly locks and bringing him down to my height so that I could brush our lips together in a gentle kiss.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Mmm,” Chan agreed - a bit distracted since he was far too busy memorizing the outline of my lips against his own. Kissing me for a very long time on that crowded street under the lights from the buildings.

Two Months Later

It happened one afternoon after leaving a lecture, and I was surprised to see Minho running across campus gasping for breath. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, waving his arms around like a maniac.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked, shielding myself from the curious eyes of my passing classmates who were probably wondering why I hung around with such an insane psychopath.

“It’s Chan,” he said, and my heart immediately leapt into my throat. All other thoughts were quickly forgotten. Replaced by all sorts of nonsensical scenarios in which my fucked up head imagined all kinds of terrible things that might’ve happened to Chan for Minho to come and find me like this.

“What happened?” I asked, but I was already moving, ordering him to take me to where he had last seen Chan.

“Chan got into a fight,” Minho said, forcing the words out through wheezes. “With Changbin.”

Changbin?!!

I moved even faster, tugging Minho along with me as he brought us to the south side of the campus. There was already a huge circle of students, and several people were raising their phones and trying to see the action.

“Move!” Minho barked, frightening some of the girls gathered on the edge. I pushed my way through, finding the center where I paused in horror to see what was happening:

The first thing I noticed was Changbin, rearing back to take a swipe at Chan - my Channie - as he dodged and returned Changbin’s hit with a well-placed blow of his own. It was enough to send Changbin falling, and I rushed forward to grab Chan’s arm, forcing him to stop when he turned his manic-crazy eyes on me.

“Channie,” I said, reaching up to touch the corner of his lip which was split at the end. “That’s enough.”

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, and I could see the threat of tears in his eyes.

“I know,” I whispered back, realizing that Chan was upset because he had never done anything like before. And I didn’t know what Changbin had said or done to get him like this, but it wasn’t anything good.

I could only assume the worst, glancing over at Changbin who was still on the ground, holding his bloody nose in one hand while several students tried to hand him tissues. Mostly the same desperate girls who always threw themselves at him. Minus the cheerleader he cheated on me with.

Maybe she didn’t get the memo.

“Y/N-” Changbin started when he noticed that I was looking at him, but I cut him off with a fierce look, leading Chan away from the scene with one hand stroking against his spine to sooth the tension I could still detect just beneath his skin.

“M’ Sorry-” he tried to apologize, but I interrupted him with a sweet kiss to the back of the hand held tightly in my own.

“It’s okay,” I assured him. “I’m not mad.”

If anything, I was proud of Chan for standing up to Changbin. Not the violence part, of course, but just his willingness to defend me when for years he let Changbin accuse him of being a nobody.

“He called you a whore,” Chan spat, and there was some blood mixed in with his spit. “I couldn’t let him get away that.”

“It’s okay,” I repeated, noticing Minho walking behind us. I gave him a short nod and he returned it with a subtle tilt of his head. “You’re fine.”

Chan nodded. Like he believed me. But we both knew that there was the potential for Chan to get in trouble for this. Even if the school officials hadn’t been around.

But I wasn’t worried about that because Changbin would be too humiliated to hold this against Chan. Plus, I was still savoring the feeling of a faint flicker of pride for Chan and the way he had retaliated. He had never said anything back then - nothing to counter those false assertions when Changbin mocked him in high school - but when Changbin started talking about me like that...

I smiled at the thought.

Six Months Later

Most of my nights with Chan started out something like this:

My boyfriend made an attempt to watch an innocent enough movie with me on his bed, allowing me curl up against his chest with a bowl of popcorn between us.

But I never made it more than ten minutes into whatever he thought would keep my mind from wandering to places that involved Chan’s shirt in the floor and my hands exploring every inch of his defined chest.

We often made out with the movie still playing in the background, and I could usually get my shorts down to mid-thigh before he was putting a stop to everything, ears glowing red while he spluttered some excuses about waiting for the right moment.

This time, I didn’t even give him the chance to get comfortable.

“Oh!” I remarked, looking myself over in the mirror. Chan wouldn’t be able to resist the sight of his girlfriend dressed to the nines for him.

I reached behind me for the silky robe that I had purchased that morning, tying the front together, and running my fingers along the creases in the fabric. It was smooth to the touch, and I felt like a confident goddess standing there making sure that I looked too pretty to resist.

"Channie?” I called against the closed door of the bathroom, and I waited until he responded with a quiet yell of my name, playing with the thin string holding my bathrobe together as I walked into the bedroom. “Look sweetie,” he said with a giddy smile. “I bought that premier access on Disney Plus...” he trailed off with a gasp, turning around to look at me like a deer caught in headlights.

“Channie,” I cooed, pulling apart the strings so that the robe fell apart, revealing every inch of my body wrapped in silky black lingerie - Chan’s favorite color.

“Holy shit!” Chan cursed - an amusing response coming from him - and he was as still as a statue, using only his eyes to look me up and down. He wordlessly dropped his laptop to the side.

“What do you think?” I asked, giving him a coy smile as I sauntered over to the bed, crawling across the mattress to sit against the familiar shape of his lap, straddling his thighs and bringing his hands to my waist. “You can touch, you know?” I grinned, leaning in to inhale the sharp smell of his cologne, groaning low in my chest when his fingers started to toy with the little ribbons decorating my garters.

“What’s all this about?” Chan gasped, sounding breathless as he accepted my first kiss of the night.

“You, of course,” I purred, trailing my hands down his firm chest to the hem of his tank top, sliding it up and over his head. “Look at you,” I said, lashes fluttering at the sight of Chan’s well-toned pecs and abdominals. The result of countless hours at the gym as he sculpted his body into perfect shape.

He flinched when I let my fingers tweak one of his nipples, whining as he rubbed over the area. “That hurt!” he protested, but it sounded weak when his erection was straining against the front of his joggers and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull as I nipped bite marks into his collarbone.

“Let me make it better,” I said, keeping one hand tight in his hair while the other found the waistband of his pants. For a moment, my hand fought with the zipper, but then I was pulling it down to stuff my fingers into his shorts, wrapping around his impossibly hard length to give him one good squeeze....

“Shit” Chan cursed, and I drew back in an instant, freeing my hand which was already covered with his release.

An awkward silence quickly filtered through the room, and I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Looking at Chan as he laid there wide-eyed and red all over. “Chan-”

“I know!” he pouted, burying his face in his hands as if trying to hide from me. “I didn’t mean to come that fast!”

“Hey!” I said, wrestling with his arms. “No, Channie, no! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” Chan said, and I was taken aback by the tears in his eyes as he forcefully zipped up his pants.

“Chan,” I tried again, ignoring the way he flinched when I wiped away his tears. “Why are you so upset?”

I was shocked at this rare sight of Chan - one who was sobbing and gasping around stuttered breaths. Tears marking trails down his face and snot sticking to his upper lip.

I leaned over for my robe, tying it back into place as I tried to figure out what to do. Usually, it was Chan pacifying my tears. But here I sat in an unknown place, working my arms around him to pull his head against my chest. Rubbing my fingers through his hair and using my nails to soothe down his back. “Channie,” I whispered, pressing little kisses into his curls. “I really don’t know why you’re this upset. I’m not mad or disappointed, okay? It’s just a natural reaction.”

“It’s not,” Chan whispered back. “It was too fast, and I know that. I’m sorry I’m not better. I’m sorry that I’m not Changbin.”

“Hey!” I snapped, forcing his head back so fast that I think even he was surprised. “Don’t you ever say that again! Do you hear me?”

Chan’s tears had stopped. Perhaps petrified in their ducts as he looked at me. “Listen to me, Chan. You are nothing like Changbin, and I wouldn’t want you to be like him. You’re better than him because you have nothing in common, and I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t think you weren’t wonderful just the way you are.”

Chan sniffled, reaching up to rub at his eyes. “I don’t know why I reacted that way...”

“It’s okay,” I reassured him again, lowering my tone to hold his face between my hands. “I’m sorry I pushed you into this. We’ll take it slower. Work up to a point where you’re comfortable. I promise.”

“But I know you’re ready for that now...”

“So?” I frowned. “Chan, yes, I want to have sex with you because I like you a lot and you’re really attractive, but you shouldn’t force yourself just to make me happy.”

I brought him back into my arms again, holding him close as I rocked us from side to side. “We’ll get there when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.”

“You will?” Chan asked with a meek tone that I wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“I’ll wait,” I repeated, shushing him with more sweet kisses to any part of his face I could access, and keeping him close for the rest of the night.

8 Months Later

It was Saturday, and Chan had been quiet all afternoon.

Like always, we had spent the day together, having lunch at one of our favorite off-campus locations and going to see a movie because nobody ever frequented the little theatre next to that big shopping mall.

We had the whole place to ourselves, and Chan indulged my need for kisses, reaching across the arm rests separating us to pucker little lipstick marks all over him.

“You’re not focusing,” Chan grunted at one point, eyes closed as his tongue wormed against mine.

“Neither are you,” I said, reaching over to touch his thigh, but grazing the front of his jeans on accident.

Still, it was enough for Chan to pull back, and he wiped at his mouth as he excused himself to go to the bathroom.

And then I sat alone for the rest of the movie, returning to the lobby when the end credits rolled across the screen to find him standing outside. “Channie?”

“Oh!” Chan seemed surprised to see me. “Aren’t you watching the rest?”

“The movie’s over Chan,” I said, giving him a strange look to which he cleared his throat and started leading us both to the car.

He was silent after that. It was unnerving, and he didn’t talk much at dinner on the way back to his apartment, and he only nodded along when we sat together on the couch in his living room as I complained about my assignments.

“You’re not listening,” I eventually said, sighing when Chan shook his head and mumbled an apology. “I’m tired though,” I continued. “I think I’ll go to bed.”

Chan still didn’t say anything, watching me walk into his bedroom to change clothes and huddle under the comforters. I managed to reach over and turn off the light, eyes already closing when I could hear Chan enter the room.

There were still no words, and I listened to him shuffle around before I felt the bed dip beneath his weight. His breath tickled the side of my face, and I fully expected a goodnight kiss. Until he opened his mouth. “Do you want to have sex with me tonight?”

“What?” I immediately turned around, struggling to find Chan’s face in the dark. “Turn on the light.”

Chan complied with my request, and I could tell that he was flushed, eyes looking everywhere but at me. “I’ve been practicing,” he said, making some kind of crude gesture that he immediately regretted. “I mean, lasting longer with you.”

I blinked away the remnants of sleep, sitting up higher to gape at him. “You’ve been practicing?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, and I could see that he starting to close off again, so I reached out to grab his wrist. “I’ve never done this before, but I’ve watched porn and stuff...”

“Are you sure?” I interrupted him, and I kept our gazes locked so that I could see everything.

But there was nothing but certainty as he nodded. “I’m sure,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed, breaking into a smile. “Take off your clothes.”

Chan cleared his throat at the command. “You too.”

“Alright,” I shrugged, unhesitating in throwing off my top. Chan’s eyes were practically bugging out of his head, locked onto my chest because I never slept with a bra on, even if he was lying next to me. “Well?”

Chan nodded, and I kept an eye on him as he tossed his shirt into the floor and worked on sliding his boxers down his thighs.

Bang Chan in all his naked glory was a sight for sore eyes. Nothing but plane upon plane of well-defined muscle and soft, pale skin. And then there was his cock, sitting between his legs - long and thick even flaccid. “Look at you, Channie,” I said, leaning back against the pillows as he crawled over top of me.

“Look at you, sweetie,” he croaked, pupils darkening with lust as he fingers trailed down my sides, squeezing at my hips with a groan.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked him, grinning at his rapid nod as I pushed him back and spread my legs wide, giving him a front row seat to the little show I was putting on just for him - dipping my fingers through the slit of my labia, dragging the gathered wetness and bringing it into the light so that he could see everything. “I’m all wet for you,” I said, crooking my finger and urging him closer.

I wasn’t surprised when he went for the kiss first, attacking my lips with a hunger that I knew had sat dormant with every sly touch or teasing brush of my fingers against his impressive arms. “You wanna fuck me, Chan?” I asked, pulling at the strands of his hair and bringing our tongues together somewhere in the middle.

He whined when I bit down on the muscle, panting like a dog as he groped at my skin and grabbed my legs to hitch them around his waist. We both groaned when his erect cock slid against my clit, aching for the place where I wanted to feel him the most.

“Condom,” I moaned against the perfect rise of his shoulder, waiting for him to reach out and dig one from the nightstand before he was struggling to wrap it around himself, whimpering when I helped him the rest of the way, fisting his cock and giving him several slow strokes.

“Fuck,” he growled, scooting closer and lining himself up, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine as he slid home.

I gasped at the initial stretch, deciding that Chan felt even bigger than he looked. My hand fell down to my lower stomach, imagining the outline of his cock contorting the skin.

“Are you good?” I managed to ask him, reaching up to pet through his curls because Chan’s expression was strained and his mouth had contorted into a thin line.

“Yeah,” Chan whispered. “I don’t want to cum too soon.”

“You’re okay,” I reassured him. “I’m ready when you are. Just keep breathing.”

“Thank you, sweetie,” Chan whispered, and he connected our lips again as he slowly started rocking back and forth, dragging his cock at a snail’s pace against the tight cavern of my cunt. Giving me the perfect amount of friction to stimulate every nerve-ending, all the way down to the tips of my toes, like a small bushfire had started to grow out of control.

I moaned at the grip he had taken on my hips, closing my eyes when he started biting against my neck, tongue lapping over the marks to distract himself. He had started to move faster, slamming his hips into mine as he started to find the best rhythm to keep himself going, muscles straining with exertion and a light sheen of sweat.

“Feels so good,” Chan grunted. Breath hitching when he angled himself just right, brushing a spot so deep inside that I thought he might be kissing the opening of my cervix.

I hummed in response, touching every inch of skin that I could find. Loving the sensation of power in his strong form. His biceps contracting every time he fucked his cock back inside.

“Doing so good for me,” I purred, clashing our lips together in an unexpected meeting of teeth. “Are you okay?”

Chan nodded, thrusting harder and faster, like he had given up on the idea of lasting longer because we could both taste the prospect of a good orgasm. “I love you,” Chan moaned between thrusts. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you too,” I whimpered, feeling myself drawing closer to the edge.

But it was even better knowing that Chan was right there with me, reaching down between our bodies to slide his thumb across my clit, keeping his cock grinding against that reactive spot that had me seeing white in the peripheral of my vision. Calling his name when he emptied himself into the condom with a delicate kiss pressed to my lips.

One Year Later

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

I was startled by the sudden presence of the shop worker, glancing away from the cake display with full alertness. “I was just looking.”

“Are you celebrating?” she asked. “We can do customization work.”

“Really? It’s for an anniversary.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she cooed, clapping her hands together like she was the one who had hitched herself to a medical student.

“Yeah, I guess,” I shrugged. In reality, I wasn’t used to this kind of thing considering the fact that my relationships usually never lasted more than a few months. “We’ve been together for a year.”

“Well, that’s a long time,” the worker informed me. “No wonder you’re trying to make it special.”

“That’s the plan,” I joked, even if I was feeling completely out of my comfort zone. Special occasions were often reserved for Chan because he was the romantic one in our relationship. He was the one who was counting, making a big deal out of every little milestone: “Happy two months, Y/N!” or “It’s been six months now, Y/N.”

I did my best to reciprocate his enthusiasm, going along with whatever plans he happened to be making. For our two month anniversary, I gave him a blow job in the restroom of the movie theatre. And after we got home from dinner to celebrate six months, Chan and I had sex for the very first time in his apartment, throwing Jisung out because Chan’s roommate was incredibly nosy and I was half-way convinced that he got off to the sounds of our fucking.

“The cakes are baked fresh every day!” the shop worker continued, doing her best to convince me to spend 20 dollars on a fine mixture of sugar, flour, and icing.

“Give me your biggest one.”

“Sweetie, you didn’t have to,” Chan insisted after I offered him the expensive pastry.

“Happy anniversary or whatever,” I said in return, resisting the urge to show him the receipt from the cake shop because I was half-convinced that they had overcharged me.

Chan pulled me in closer by my hips, hands enveloping my waist as he kissed me softly. “I have something special for you tonight.”

“A fancy bottle of wine and my face in the mattress?”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded me gently. “We’re going out.”

I was still unconvinced, reaching down to palm his cock over the jeans he was wearing. “Are you sure, Channie? I’ll even ride you if you want.”

“We have plans,” Chan insisted while reaching for my wandering hand. “Go get dressed.”

“Is Jisung here with his latest plaything or something?” I snickered. “You’re awfully persistent.”

“Because I have a surprise,” Chan said, pointing in the direction of his bedroom. “You better hurry, sweetie, we’re leaving in thirty minutes.”

“Well, then you better appreciate a half-assed attempt to look nice,” I told him. “I’m talking Aéropostale instead of Armani.”

“You’ll probably look sexy regardless.”

“Channie, you always know how to stroke my ego.”

Chan must have gotten dating advice from his parents. That’s the only suitable explanation for the nearly vacant drive-in movie Chan was currently paying an entire week’s worth of tips for two tickets. “Chan,” I said, glancing around nervously. “Is this the part where you tell me that you’re a serial killer?”

Chan pulled up to the front of the lot, parking next to one of the rusty speakers twisted into the ground. “Isn’t it great?”

“I guess,” I said, craning my neck to take in the giant screen. “This is revenge for Minho’s frat party, right?”

“I think it’s amazing,” Chan said. “You want anything from the concession stand? My treat, of course, sweetie.”

“You go knock yourself out,” I said. “I’ll just stay here with my phone in case I need to urgently dial the emergency number. How fast do you think the police can get here?”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Chan said, wrenching open the door to his faded Mustang. “I’ll be right back.”

I shivered, crossing my arms as I slowly counted the number of cars surrounding us: a grand total of four. There were only four other cars here in a run-down gravel lot in the middle of the woods. This was something out of a horror film, a new nightmare directed by Wes Craven. At any moment, I totally expected Jason Vorhees to run out of those trees waving around his machete and, no matter how big Chan had gotten over the summer, I doubted he could take down an immortal monster. “Keep it together, Y/N,” I murmured. “This isn’t the dumbest thing he’s ever done.”

I was pretty sure nothing could ever top our impromptu beach trip for spring break when Chan somehow booked us a room in the basement of someone’s beach house. Concrete floors and walls, exposed pipes and insulation, Chan and I shared a tiny twin bed with eyes wide open as we listened to the scariest noises emanating from the giant furnace. Needless to say, Chan found us another room at the Motel 6, ditching the creepy couple who told us that they couldn’t give a refund.

“Popcorn!”

I nearly screamed at the sound of Chan’s returning voice, rolling my eyes when he shoved the box at me from across the console. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“What are you so worried about, Y/N?” Chan asked as he shut the door. “The movie starts soon.”

“Great,” I said. “Would it be entirely rude to ask what the hell you paid for us to see?”

Chan shrugged while taking a giant bite of his pretzel. “It’s an older movie, but I hear it’s one of their most popular.”

“Well, if it gives me a couple of strokes, then your ass can drive us to the hospital.”

“It’s not scary,” Chan argued, leaning his seat back to accommodate his view. “I think you’ll like it if you give it a chance.”

“But the very first time I see a fucking ghost or something…”

“There aren’t any ghosts,” Chan said. “Unless we’re talking about the movie with Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze.”

“You cry like a little bitch every time.”

“They deserved to be together!”

“Shhh,” I silenced him quietly, moving up in my seat. “Your fifties flick is about to play! Maybe I’ll get lucky and see a nice ass or something.”

“How crude,” Chan remarked, grumpily wiping his greasy hands against his jeans.

“It’s starting!” I cheered, propping my elbow against the console. “Are you excited?”

Chan glared at me as the credits rolled across the screen. “See if I do anything nice for you again, Y/N.”

“I’m trying to appreciate this gesture of love,” I said, pointing at the two characters on screen. “Do you think they’ve ever been to a drive-in movie?”

“Are you gonna talk the entire time?”

“You don’t like my commentary?”

“Unless it’s the director’s cut, then no.”

“Channie,” I feigned hurt. “You’ve broken my delicate sensibilities. Wherever will I regain my confidence?”

“You have plenty of that, Y/N,” Chan said.

I looked away from the movie screen, admiring the sharp profile of his jawline. “Have you ever noticed how remarkably gorgeous you are these days?”

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“That’s a shame because I was hoping to get inside your pants.”

“Watch the movie!”

I grew silent, moving back to my side of the car while sneaking my phone from my side pocket, scrolling through my messages with the screen brightness on low. There were several messages from Minho which I temporarily ignored in favor of the unexpected appearance of Han Jisung’s name. He only ever reached out to me when he was either in desperate need of help or because he heard an inappropriate joke and thought I should know about it as well.

From Jisung

Where does Chan keep his condoms?

I rolled my eyes, deleting the message before tapping on Minho’s contact name.

From Minho

Was Chan’s surprise everything you hoped and dreamed for?

To Minho

He took me to a drive-in theatre

From Minho

If I see your name in the obituary, I’ll let the police see this message.

To Minho

You’re becoming less supportive with each passing day

From Minho

That’s because you just interrupted my hook-up! She fled the moment she saw your name.

To Minho

Then she wasn’t good enough for you. I probably just saved you from months of clingy girlfriend syndrome.

I waited for Minho’s response before an exaggerated moan from on-screen abruptly captured my attention. I looked back at the screen, mouth dropping open as I realized the two main protagonists had progressed considerably in their relationship. “Channie, you didn’t tell me there was porn in this,” I gasped, smirking at the sight of my flustered boyfriend. “Aw, your ears are red.”

“Shut it,” Chan growled.

“Was this not what you expected?” I asked him, reaching out to trace the outer shell of his ear.

“They did say it had an R rating,” Chan admitted, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

I drew my hand away from his ear, running my fingers down his arm and waist until I found the front of his jeans. “We could have watched porn at home.”

“W-what are you doing?” Chan asked, eyes frantic as they surveyed our surroundings.

“Nobody’s watching,” I said as I tightened my hand around his cock, enjoying his accompanying moan. “Have you ever had sex in the car before?”

“In my Mustang?” Chan gasped, eyes now shut tightly together as he tossed his head back against the headrest. “These are leather seats.”

“And?”

“I don’t want semen on my leather seats,” Chan complained.

“Relax, Channie,” I reassured him, working my way across the console to sit directly on his lap. “I’ll let you cum inside so it stays in me instead.”

Chan’s mouth fell open at my promise. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Well, good thing I do,” I smirked, reaching into my pocket. “I’m on birth control anyway.”

“Since when?”

“I can’t tell you that,” I said, waving the silver packet in his face. “You’ll get all jealous.”

Chan frowned, eyes narrowed. “Changbin?”

I nodded once. “I thought it was better to play it safe.”

“How fortunate for him,” Chan glowered.

“I told you not to assume anything,” I said, reaching down to unbutton his jeans. “Now you’re all worked up.”

“Yeah? Talking about your ex-boyfriend does that to me,” Chan said, hissing between clenched teeth when I held his cock in my hand.

“You don’t see me drooling over his dick, do you?” I asked him, stroking once, twice before ripping open the condom. “Do me a favor, Chan, and be a good boy while I fuck you.”

“What about the movie?” Chan asked breathlessly, watching through half-lidded eyes as I worked the condom down his erection.

“You mean the porno?” I snickered. “I’ll give you a live sex show instead, how does that sound?”

Chan answer came in the form of a heavy groan as I took him deep inside, shoving my panties to the side to accommodate our coupling. I twisted my skirt up higher around my hips to make sure it was out of the way, allowing us both an intimate view of where his cock disappeared. “Shit, Y/N,” Chan panted. “Are you a voyeur now?”

“Like those couples aren’t doing the same thing,” I said, grabbing tightly to his shoulders for balance. “Now, just relax while your girlfriend makes you feel good, hmmm?”

“Okay,” Chan managed breathlessly while his hands shot out to grab my waist. “Make it fast though.”

“Like anyone will stop us,” I said, sighing happily as I pressed a gentle kiss to his pulse point, tongue tasting the skin of his throat. “But, if you’re interested in testing me, I could probably make you cum in five minutes. Remember the first time you let me touch your cock?”

Chan winced at my words, probably recalling to mind the unfortunate way he had been unable to hold himself together, cumming from just a simple hand job on his bed. “You’ll never let me forget that, will you?”

“Don’t worry, you last a lot longer now,” I said, grinning triumphantly when his moans started to grow louder, circling my hips to grind against his pulsing cock. “I think I’ve thoroughly corrupted you.”

“Yeah?” Chan sighed, leaning forward to kiss me with bated breath, hands now groping the front of my chest while his tongue smoothed against mine.

I pulled away to relieve my aching lungs, allowing Chan open access to my neck while my head was tilted back against the steering wheel. “You wanted it just as much as I did,” I commented, tangling my hands in his messy curls to hold him in place. My thighs were now straining from my movements, the burn aching pleasantly like the time Chan had tried to teach me how to swim in the campus pool, keeping one hand under my stomach while he encouraged me to kick out my legs.

“You were going to get fucked one way or another,” Chan said, letting out a deep rumble as he occasionally rutted up when my hips would fall against his, skin bruising with every seductive sound.

“But at least I got your cock instead of my fingers,” I said, rolling my hips faster as I started to chase my own orgasm. “You wouldn’t believe the difference.”

“I might,” he said. “It works both ways.”

I fought every urge to just stop my movements and let Chan fuck me however he wanted, reaching for one of his hands to guide his long fingers down between us. “Please, Channie,” I whined loudly, an unfortunate result of my increasing desperation with every deep fill of his cock against my tight walls.

His thumb pressed down on my throbbing organ, kisses growing messier as we both started to chase our highs, teetering precariously on the precipice between pleasure and rationality because fucking in the car was certainly not high on my list of most responsible moments. “Are you close?” he asked. “Because I might die if I don’t cum soon.”

“Don’t die,” I whispered, scratching my nails down his chest through the fabric of his shirt. “Just a little longer.”

Chan grunted, forehead slipping against mine now that we were both covered with sweat. I opened my eyes just enough to realize that we had successfully fogged up all the windows like that giant innuendo of a scene in Titanic. “Fuck, Y/N,” Chan groaned, kissing me again with too many teeth.

“Chan,” I swallowed around a moan, legs trembling with a cloying mixture of exertion and the anticipation of a satisfying orgasm. Chan wasn’t far behind, grabbing my thighs with clenched fingers as he jerked his hips up to fill the condom with a thunderous groan.

I held onto him, his face buried against my chest as we both struggled to regain our breath. “I’ll fuck you better when we get back,” Chan promised, and I had never heard anything sexier in my entire life.

“Happy anniversary.”

“I love you, Y/N,” Chan murmured against my skin.

“Yeah? Well, I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

Two Years Later

There were days where I couldn’t believe that Chan was a doctor-in-training. Days like this one. Standing next to my boyfriend in line outside the mall as we waited for his dumb comic book store to open.

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan had told me when we eventually made our way inside the mall after waiting nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

“Yeah? After I get drenched, right?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he giggled. Clearly, the figurine was more important than me.

“This is ridiculous, Chan,” I grunted, reaching up to remove the slick strands of my hair that were sticking to my forehead. “We’re both gonna catch pneumonia!”

“It’s not cold enough,” Chan said smartly.

Stupid doctor knowledge.

“Well, can I at least have some consolation for my discomfort? My socks are soaked!”

“I’ll buy you some socks,” Chan said, but his voice sounded distant, eyes glowing with the light of the comic book store. “Oh my god! It’s amazing,” he exclaimed, and he didn’t even bother waiting for me before rushing inside.

I rolled my eyes but followed him. Deciding that it couldn’t possibly get any worse than my clothes drenched with rainwater. But then I realized the giant crowd of desperate shoppers surrounding a neat display at the back of the store, and I groaned at the idea of fighting nerds in their element.

Instead, I watched with concerned eyes as various hands started reaching out to try and take one of the figurines as the poor store clerk attempted to control the rampant crowd.

And at the very front of that mess, muscling his way to the thing that he had been talking about nonstop all week, was my boyfriend. Pushing and shoving at the other shoppers as his eyes retained that familiar glimmer that reminded me of the same Chan who sat in the living room for hours playing video games with Felix.

I called him Gamer Chan, and he would stop at nothing to win.

Even if that meant elbowing a poor kid in the side of the head to wrap his hands around his precious figurine, fighting his way to the register to pay for the damn thing with a week’s worth of pay.

I stood by the door, eyebrow raised in some semblance of surprise, when Chan returned to me with the biggest grin on his face. “I got it!” he said, holding up his bag triumphantly, and something twisted inside of me that was reminiscent of the fiery flames licking at my belly when Chan and I were in bed together.

“Fuck, that was kinda sexy,” I admitted, throwing my arms around his neck to kiss him in front of all those other grumpy shoppers who hadn’t gotten as lucky.

“Bathroom?” Chan panted against my lips, and I nodded with far too much enthusiasm.

Letting him drag us through the mall into one of those nasty family restrooms where Chan and I let our coats hit the ground as I backed him up against the door, wrestling with his pants so that I could free his already erect cock.

“Come on, sweetie,” Chan moaned, tightening his fingers in my hair, and I had never felt so turned on before in my entire life, swallowing his cock to the root and letting him fuck my face in that gross bathroom with that stupid action figure watching us from where Chan had carefully set it down on the counter.

“Let me fuck you, Y/N,” Chan hissed from above me, nearly losing his collective shit when I dug my tongue into the slit of his throbbing cock.

“Please,” I moaned, pulling away from his cock with a thin string of spit dropping between my lips.

“On the sink,” Chan said, pulling down his pants to mid-thigh while I rucked up my skirt and let my panties fall to the floor.

It was so practiced for us at that point, and I leaned against the counter, using my arms to support myself when Chan ripped open a condom with his teeth and wrapped himself in a protective layer of latex. “Hurry up, Channie,” I whimpered, wiggling my ass at him.

“I got you,” Chan whispered, and his eyes were closed in utter bliss when he slid inside, feeling every inch of his cock strangled by the tightness of my walls.

I moaned around his name, letting Chan use one hand to bend me even further over the sink to fuck his cock into me, and I could still see the action figure from my peripheral vision. “Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted around the sound of skin slapping against skin. “So tight for me.”

“Shit!” He felt so good at this angle, and the way he was pressing me against the cold granite was adding extra friction to my swollen, sensitive clit.

It kinda reminded me of the time when Chan snuck us inside the little closet outside of his lab. Holding his hand over my mouth to muffle my moans when he fingered me right outside where his classmates were talking amongst one another.

But I could tell that I wouldn’t last long, and in the final moment of total awareness before I nearly blacked out from the pleasure, I noticed the stupid action figurine leaning against the mirror. It reminded me that we came all this way for something that I thought was worthless, but nothing could ever match Chan’s cock. And maybe I didn’t hate it as much as I thought.

Three Years Later

Chan prided himself on maintaining perfect grades. Of all the things that meant the most to him in life, straight A’s and a 4.0 were amongst the top of the list.

But despite being more careful than anyone else I knew when it came to academic excellence, his biggest mistake had been teaming up with Han Jisung because he wanted to be a good friend and Chan’s weakness would always be his soft spot for his friends.

“He screwed me over,” Chan fumed from next to me, slamming down his test paper and attracting some very serious glares from the others trying to study in the library.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

I had tried to tell him a long time ago, of course. But he didn’t believe me.

“You can make it up,” I said. “Doesn’t this professor like you? Go to his office hours and see if he’ll let you put in some extra credit.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Chan grumbled. And maybe it was one of those days where Chan simply wanted to channel all the stresses of his studies into one outlet. Jisung just happened to be the victim.

“I’m serious,” I insisted. “I’ll even come with you. And then afterward we can get some dinner and go back to your apartment. I’ll even give you one of those massages that you like so much.”

Chan’s eyes lit up at the promise, and he seemed to abandoned his previous vendetta against Jisung, swiping his books into his bag. “Alright,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

“It never hurts to ask,” I reminded him, reaching for his hand to hold close in mine as we walked together across campus to where the medical laboratories were kept in one of the newer buildings.

Instead of old-fashioned air conditioning units hanging from the windows, there were HVAC systems that kept everything cold in the summer and warm in the winter. The ideal conditions for student lectures, even if I suffered in one of the oldest buildings on campus which wasn’t nearly as upgraded.

“You can wait here,” Chan said once we stood outside, adjusting his bag on his shoulder as he leaned down for a kiss. “I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time,” I urged him, finding a sitting spot along the brick wall while Chan hurried inside the building.

There was no need to rush, scrolling through social media for a while to keep myself occupied, but there were always alternatives, especially since I had Minho on speed dial, pulling up his contact and then holding the phone to my ear. “Y/N,” his voice said from the other end. “Where are you?”

“The science labs,” I replied, frowning at a chip in my nail polish. “Why?”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” Minho replied, and I could hear that he was breathing hard - likely taking a power walk through campus to find me.

“What happened this time?”

“Remember that girl I met at the party last night?”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s a clinger,” Minho said, and I rolled my eyes because only Minho could land himself into these predicaments.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” I said, already spotting him on the horizon, and exhausted wasn’t a good look on Minho.

Especially when he smelled like a gym locker. “Ugh, gross,” I protested when he drug me closer to wrap his arms around my waist.

“Look behind me,” Minho instructed, and I did as he said.

“Why?”

“The girl with the blonde hair,” he said, and I found her easily. “Tell me when she takes the hint.”

I smirked knowingly, but kept a watch on the poor girl who looked nothing short of distraught when she realized that Minho already had someone else. She stomped her foot on the sidewalk, crossing her arms over her chest as she stormed off.

“I think you’re good,” I muttered, pulling away from Minho. “Don’t you have time to shower?”

“Oh? I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Minho huffed.

“Relax, I just saved your ass,” I said. “When are you going to learn that girls in college are looking for long-term boyfriends?”

“What? Like you and Bang,” Minho snorted, and I grinned when I noticed someone over his shoulder.

“Is that a problem?” Chan asked, and Minho spun around so fast that I wouldn’t be surprised if he complained of whiplash.

“Bang!” Minho laughed, tossing an arm around Chan’s neck like they were old friends. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if you let me go,” Chan grumbled, and Minho obeyed at once, backing away with his palms outstretched.

“Anyway,” he sing-songed. “I gotta go...great to see you both! Dinner on me this weekend?”

“Like that would happen,” I snorted. Minho had always been the friend who begged for a meal.

“But I made extra because I babysat for my mom’s friend,” Minho said. “All you have to do is sit the kids down in front of the TV and everything’s fine.”

“Remind me to never take advice on childcare from you,” I remarked, grinning when Chan started grabbing on to my arm.

“Don’t forget your promise from earlier,” he whispered into my ear, and I shivered in anticipation.

“Stay home tonight,” I warned Minho, seeing him off with a promise to answer his text messages more promptly, keeping Chan close as we made our way back to his apartment.

It was almost dinnertime, but I forced my hunger down as I followed him into his bedroom. “Jisung isn’t here, right?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Chan agreed, cheeks flushing when he noticed that I was staring at him.

“Take off your clothes,” I said, walking into the bathroom for the lotion. “You better be on the bed when I get back.”

I could hear Chan struggling with his jeans as I checked my reflection in the mirror, giving him enough time to situate himself. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” he called back, and I walked into the bedroom, eyes immediately finding Chan’s naked ass as he glanced up at me from where his head was resting on his folded arms.

“Don’t give me that look,” he complained, shielding his eyes.

“Why? You look so sexy, Channie,” I said, crawling over top of him to straddle his lower back, pouring out a generous amount of lotion before rubbing my hands into the tense muscles.

“Oh!” Chan moaned. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” I smirked, priding myself on making Chan feel a little less stressed. “What did your professor say about the extra credit?”

“You were right,” Chan said. “He agreed to help me out with some extra hours in the lab at night.”

“See?” I dug my thumbs into the little divots above his ass - god he had such a nice ass. “You’ll have to remember that in the future. Y/N knows what she’s talking about.”

“Don’t get cocky,” Chan mumbled.

“Let me have my moment!” I protested, sitting up a little to land a gentle smack on his ass cheek, admiring the color of the stinging red. “Turn around for me.”

“Why?” Chan whined.

“Why? Maybe I want to see your beautiful face.”

“Yeah, right,” Chan huffed, but he still rolled over onto his back, giving me the best view of his sculpted torso.

I ran my hand down his abs, feeling him shiver at the sensation. He was so gorgeous, and I would tell him over and over again because he deserved to hear it. Moving my way down the bed to settle between his thighs where I had a close-up angle of his soft cock resting against his leg.

“Such a big boy,” I joked, breath fanning over the sensitive head of his cock.

But Chan looked like he had been deeply affected by my words, squirming around as his cock filled out even more.

“Oh?” I found his reaction amusing, reaching out to give him a quick stroke, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Listen to me, Channie. I’m going to blow you, and then I expect you to get me off too, okay?”

Chan was nodding furiously like a man possessed, spreading his legs and tightening his grip on my hair. “Please, sweetie.”

“Such good manners,” I grinned, opening my mouth to take him to the root and savoring the sound of his moans around my name.

Four Years Later

On my graduation day, Chan was the first one to find me as I stood outside the stadium where the ceremony would be held, sweating through my robe because it was 90 degrees outside.

I didn’t have my diploma yet because they would mail it to my home address, but there was a folder in my hands to mimic the effect when I walked across the stage, eyes lost in the sea of people as I gave up on trying to find anyone that I could recognize.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetie,” Chan said when he was close enough to wrap me in his arms, forcing my nose right against his armpit where Chan had already stained the fabric of his t-shirt.

But I didn’t complain, holding him close despite the heat until I heard another voice calling my name, pulling apart to meet the full weight of my mother as she skipped along the sidewalk.

“Y/N!” my mother cried, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue as she wrapped me into a hug tight enough to knock the air clean out of my lungs. “Look how beautiful you are!!”

“Oh, yeah,” I grunted, ignoring the tension in my lungs. “Smeared make-up and everything.”

“Honey, that can be fixed,” my mom said, turning her attention to the steady lines of mascara as she used her thumb to fix the stains. “There we go!”

“Thanks,” I grumbled, feeling Chan come up behind me to wrap an arm around my waist while my mother dramatically fanned herself with her hands and talked nonstop about how inspirational the Chancellor’s speech had been.

“The way he talked about the future!” My mother gasped, fingers falling against her chest. “And I thought to myself, yep! That’s my daughter! She starts her new job this week! Isn’t that great?”

It’s just an assistant position, I wanted to grumble, but I couldn’t ruin my mother’s good mood. “Can’t wait!” I said through gritted teeth, and the three of us started walking back to the big parking lot behind the stadium.

The plan had originally been to drive uptown and find some lunch, but my mother was unexpectedly called in for a night shift, and I brushed off her apologies and said it would be fine. I could just spend the night with Chan and indulge our favorite takeout.

“Takeout, sweetie!” Chan had said. “For your special day?”

“It’s fine,” I had assured him, but I could see that he wasn’t convinced.

“Call me later on,” my mother continued, stopping next to her worn Honda. “I want to talk more about all those big plans you have.”

“Sure,” I agreed, accepting another stifling hug and allowing Chan to take several pictures of us. One too many in my opinion.

“Bye, Y/N,” my mother cooed, and I watched her drive away before leaning into Chan’s weight and begging him to take us back to his apartment before I died from a heatstroke. Using one finger to stifle the inevitable lecture on the improbabilities of that happening waiting on his lips.

“Let’s just hang out at your place for the rest of the night,” I said, swinging our hands together between us.

I was in a much better mood knowing that AC wasn’t so far ahead. “Whatever you want, sweetie,” Chan agreed. “You deserve it.”

His apartment complex wasn’t nearly as crowded as the stadium, and I already felt better away from other people when Chan fished out his keys to unlock the door, laughing at the way I ran inside with open arms.

“Air conditioning!” I cried, ignoring the sound of Chan’s laugh as I fell down face-first onto his bed. “Smells like your laundry detergent.”

“Yeah, I do remember to wash them,” he said, and I looked up at him to see a familiar smile.

“What are you doing?” I whined. “Come sit with me!”

“Of course, sweetie.”

I whined when he still wasn’t close enough, sitting up to shimmy off my robe and the white tank-top I wore underneath. Chan caught-on quickly, reaching down to remove his own t-shirt, laying back against the bed so that I could rest my head against his chest, savoring the intimacy of skin-on-skin contact and Chan’s natural musk.

“Do you want to nap?” I asked him with half-closed eyes.

“Sure,” he whispered, moving his hand to my hair to pet through the strands.

It was enough to keep me close to the edge, falling in and out of consciousness until I felt Chan move out from under me. I groaned at the loss of him, turning over onto my back to look up at the ceiling. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” he chuckled, and I managed to find him across the room, rifling through one of his dresser drawers.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, wondering if we should just call food in.

But Chan didn’t respond, and I forced myself into a sitting position when he approached the bedside with his hands behind his back. “Y/N,” he said, sitting down the edge of the bed. He looked nervous, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

Because Chan was the last person who felt nervous about anything. Over the course of our time together, he had developed a healthy level of confidence, both in his personal and professional lives, and there was something intrinsically satisfying about seeing him grow in such a way. I was proud of him for overcoming high school, and I had never felt so attached to another person to the point where anything I planned never made sense unless Chan was apart of that process.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, trying to read his expression.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Chan said, and he tried for a smile, pulling back one of his hands to reveal a little black velvet box. He opened the top and the light hit the individual diamonds decorating the ring inside. “This was my mother’s,” he said, sinking down to one knee on the floor.

“Channie.” There was a part of me that already knew what was happening. Yet, I dared not disturb the moment - what he had so obviously rehearsed and planned.

But my eyes still hadn’t left the delicate ring sitting inside the little black box lined with beautiful velvet. “Uhm, I know I still have some years in medical school, but I think this just feels like a good time, ya’ know? To, uh, get married? Uh, to me? If you’d like?”

He winced at the proposal, and I could tell that Chan was already regretting his words even though I had never heard anything more beautiful in my entire life. I gave him an encouraging smile, holding out my hand so that he could slide the ring onto my finger. “Let’s do that,” I said, leaning down to take his face between my hands and kiss him as passionately as he deserved.

Five Years Later

There was something primitive that sparked inside of me whenever I received a notification from Chan’s mother. The living reincarnation of Evil which had spawned more evil in Felix. How it skipped Chan I would never understand.

“Son of a bitch,” I cursed, trying to gain control over my temper as I re-read the text from Chan’s mom.

AKA the most pretentious and hard to deal with person on this planet!

Every last detail of our wedding had been scrutinized by this woman! She even complained because some of the flower bouquets had mismatched shades of red!

I sat down on the couch in our new apartment - the one Chan had found in the more upscale district. He insisted that we move in together after I graduated, and even if he still had classes and trainings at school, we wouldn’t have to worry about driving between living arrangements just to see one another.

Plus, it made sense to live together as a couple on the brink of committing the rest of our time to one another. And the added bonus of acting as Chan’s personal stress reliever whenever he got home from a frustrating afternoon of classes and could fuck me like some kind of animal....

“Sweetie!” I perked up at the sound of his voice. “Where are you?”

“In here,” I said, projecting my voice from the living room as I pouted at my phone. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Chan chirped, walking into the room while wrestling with his tie. “We worked with some nice kids at the children’s hospital downtown. You should’ve been there, Y/N, they were such sweethearts!”

“Glad to hear it,” I said, wondering if I could get away with using an acronym or self-censoring asterisks in my response to Chan’s devil mother.

“You look upset,” Chan said, and his tone shifted to one of concern as he knelt down next to me. “Did something happen at work?”

“Not at work,” I sighed, turning my phone around to show Chan the message from his mother.

“Oh.” Bang Chan frowned. “She shouldn’t talk to you that way.”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just deal with it like I usually do: a passive aggressive text and radio silence when she tries to call me.”

Chan grinned like he found it funny even though I was only halfway joking. “I’ll talk to her, Y/N. She shouldn’t be making this hard for you.”

“I’m just so stressed from this,” I admitted. “And it shouldn’t be stressful.”

“No,” Chan agreed, shouldering off his lab coat as he reached for my hand. “What if we just forget about the wedding?”

I almost laughed until I realized that Chan looked serious. “Wait, what!??!”

“Yeah, let’s just go down to the courthouse and get married right now,” he said, and there was a strange giddiness in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a long time.

Could we really do that? I wondered. Why the hell not? “Yeah? Okay!” I agreed, standing up on trembling legs as I looked around the room. “Oh god. What do we need? I don’t know what to bring!”

“They just need us,” Chan insisted, and he was already a step ahead - a calming force that always brought me back into the moment - handing me my coat and grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter. “You ready?”

I nodded with what had to be the cheesiest smile on my face, holding tight to Chan’s hand as we left the apartment and made the short walk down the street to the courthouse where everything could be made official.

He even thought ahead to all the paperwork - marriage license and certificate, - fishing out his wallet to pay the fee and bringing out his own pen so that we could sign on the dotted lines. Waiting with bated breaths as the woman behind the counter notarized everything with a government seal. Handing it back to us and directing the awaiting security guard to escort Chan and I to the next room.

There was a pastor waiting there, and he conducted the impromptu ceremony without a hitch. Having us repeat those sacred words that bound us together while holding out a hand to direct us when it was our turn to say “I do.”

“I now declare you husband and wife,” he concluded. “You may kiss the bride.”

He held out our certificate and license, and in plain view of everyone in that little government building, Chan kissed me as if it was the first time that he had ever done so.

It suddenly all seemed so simple. Like I had been overthinking everything and stressing out about something that was supposed to be fun. But Chan had this amazing way of making it feel like anything was possible.

Do we want to avoid the stresses of wedding planning? Why not. We could get married in a courthouse without anyone to bother us.

And so we did.

And we could appease everyone else with a proper wedding later on. But this moment was for us. And I would never forget the sensation of our first shared kiss as husband and wife, swaying back and forth under the big, fancy chandelier in the courthouse.

Six Years Later

Chan had been pacing back and forth in our apartment all morning, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater and biting the skin around his nails.

“You’re gonna make yourself dizzy,” I remarked, watching him with concern.

“I can’t help it!” he grimaced. “What if they don’t accept me? I need this residency, Y/N.”

I almost laughed because how could anyone be stupid enough to turn down Chan? A certified genius who once memorized all the phone numbers in his mother’s contact list when he was a kid and bored at the dentist office. “If that happens, then you can guarantee them a strongly worded letter from me,” I said, frowning down at my work papers.

It was then that the phone rang and Chan fell back against the wall in a decidedly dramatic fashion. “It’s them!”

“Then answer it,” I said with a hint of a smirk.

“Right,” he agreed, clearing his throat as he accepted the call, and I could hear Chan’s voice growing fainter as he walked into the next room.

But despite my earlier confidence, I found myself setting aside my work and holding my breath while Chan talked on the phone to the officials deciding his fate. It felt like the conversation was taking hours, and my leg bounced up and down, arms crossed over my chest as I sent up a silent prayer that the hospital would welcome Chan with open arms.

After all the hard work he put in for the position, there was no one more deserving than Bang Chan.

“Please!” I whispered over and over again, closing my eyes and folding my hands together. Like my mother used to do when she wanted something more than anything. Only to be startled by the sudden rise in Chan’s tone, and my eyes flew open when he rushed back into the room with the brightest smile bringing out his dimples.

“I got it!” he yelled, and I laughed and met him halfway across the room. Letting him wrap his arms around me in a tight embrace.

“I’m so proud of you,” I managed to tell him over the squeezing of my airways.

“Oh, sweetie,” Chan moaned, holding me close as he devoured my lips with all the enthusiasm of a medical student realizing his lifelong dream. “Do you want to go to bed early?” Chan continued, nipping at my ear and moving his hands up and down my waist.

“What for?” I grinned - already knowing the answer but loving the rare opportunities to tease Chan into a little dirty talk.

“You know what for,” Chan huffed, moving his hands to my back. “I’ve got the job I wanted. We can get the bigger apartment. And all I’m missing is my wife riding my cock.”

I shivered at his words, closing my eyes to relish in his smooth kisses. “Is that right?”

“Whatever you want,” Chan agreed, holding me even closer to the point where it felt like he was trying to mold us together.

At the same time, I heard Chan’s phone start ringing again, and I glanced over to see Jisung’s number flashed across the phone screen. “Hey!” I said, pulling Chan’s hands away from where they had been slowly wandering down to my ass. “You’ve got an important call.”

Chan scoffed when he saw the caller ID. “I don’t think Jisung qualifies as important when I was ready to take my wife to bed.”

“He might’ve gotten a similar call,” I reminded him. “Don’t you think you should congratulate him?”

Chan sighed, pouting because he wasn’t getting laid. “Yeah, alright,” he grumbled, taking the call and giving my ass a firm slap on the way to the kitchen.

I smiled after him, thinking back to when Jisung had frantically called Chan one night in a crying spell complaining about losing out on yet another position. He whined that his medical degree was useless, but Chan hadn’t given up on him.

“Well?” I asked when Chan back in. “What did he say?”

“He got an interview,” Chan chuckled, and he seemed to be thinking about something.

“You’re thinking?” I prompted, stepping closer to draw one hand down his arm. “Tell me.”

Chan shrugged. “I don’t know how much pull I get, but maybe I can put in a good word for Jisung at the hospital.”

I raised one brow. “Is that okay?”

“It’s the least I can do,” Chan insisted, and he walked over to our shared computer desk. “I’ll write them a letter.”

I smiled, proud of Chan for standing up for his friends. Especially someone who had stuck with him through all those hard years of late-night studying and pulling all nighters to make deadlines.

I would have to remind him of this later on, the afternoon when Chan got his first position and spent the next several hours writing a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position.

It would turn out to work better than any of us could’ve imagined because at this point next year, the three of us would be out celebrating Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi.

“Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung would say. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan would say despite wearing the biggest grin on his face.

Seven Years Later

I had faced disappointment before in life.

After all, it was an unavoidable fate for most people. But I just wish it didn’t have to be this....losing my job after working so hard to impress the CEO and build stock with the company.

Gone after one night.

I sighed, reaching out for yet another glass of wine. I had lost count after the third one.

In the past, I would always tell myself that it couldn’t possibly be worse. But that sentiment seemed to ring hollow this time.

I grimaced at the thought of lazing around on the couch all day, glancing up when I heard the sound of Chan’s keys in the door. His voice was bright when he called my name - unaware that his wife was brooding in the next room. But he found out very quickly that something was wrong, poking his head around the corner to drop his smile.

“Y/N?” Chan approached me carefully, and I could tell that he was overthinking.

Might as well get it out. “I lost my job,” I told him. “The firm went bankrupt.”

“Oh, Y/N,” he whispered, and the gentle tone was what broke me, and I started crying for the first time since receiving the phone call - like Chan knowing the news made it official.

“It’s alright sweetie,” he said, holding me tight to his chest because he knew I hated to cry and at least this way, safe in his embrace, I could hide in his shirt. “I know it’s not your fault.”

“This whole day is shit and you smell like hospital,” I cried, feeling Chan’s chuckle. “I ruined your tie.”

“I can always get a new one,” he said, carefully pulling me back to remove the snot-infested piece of fabric. “Talk to me, sweetie. Why are you so upset? There’s a whole city out there full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to hire someone as smart as you.”

I wanted to smile at his attempt to make me feel better. Chan always laid on the compliments thick when he knew that I was upset. “I just feel like I failed, ya’ know?” I sniffled. “It’s not that I’m worried about money, but what was the point of going to college and doing all that work when nothing pays off in the end?”

“You’re not a failure, Y/N,” Chan said in a stern tone. “Do you understand?”

I scoffed at his reprimand. “You sound like my mother.”

“Well, she’s right,” Chan said. “Why would you feel that way about yourself, huh? And who says it’s the end?” Chan asked, reaching out to rub this thumb against the underside of my puffy eyes. “You’ve only just started, Y/N.

“Yeah,” I cried, wiping away the tears that he had missed and feeling utterly wrecked.

Chan was right, though, because this wasn’t really the end. But it was still hard to not feel disappointed. I just needed some time to get over it.

He certainly helped, whispering soothing praises into my ear, wrapping his arms around me to pull me into his arms, hands rolling across my back.

“You’ll find something better,” Chan said, and he was kissing across my chin. “I know you have more to give the world.”

I managed a smile through the tears, turning my head at the right angle to cause our lips to brush across one another’s. “Besides, sweetie, this gives you time to enjoy yourself for a little while, yeah?” He applied more pressure to the kiss against my lips. “You want to take a shower with me? Self-care is important, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Even at my weakest - with my face probably a mess of smeared make-up and snot - Chan still tried his best to make me feel like I was the greatest thing to walk on two legs.

“Channie,” I said, holding out my hand for him to take, lifting me up from the couch with an impressive strength that still managed to catch me off-guard even after all these years together. “As long as you don’t mind having a trophy wife who stays at home all day.”

Chan snorted. “Sweetie, I would never think of you like that...although, you are pretty enough for the part.”

I smirked, playfully pushing at his chest as he we walked to the bathroom together.

As soon as Chan had the door closed, he was reaching down for the hem of his shirt and I had to swallow down any lingering doubts. Instead, I thought about how far we had both come to reach this point - to where we could just take off our clothes around each other without the situation having to be sexual.

It felt domestic with Chan. Even if I couldn’t help but ogle the curve of his ass when he bent down to adjust the water temperature.

After all, I should at least appreciate the fact that I was the luckiest woman in the world to have scored Bang Chan.

Hands? Chest? Arms?

Check. Check. Check.

Even that soft smile that he gave me when he stepped into the shower, beckoning me forward while keeping the curtain held wide open.

I joined him after managing to wiggle my panties down my legs, toeing them off and stepping inside the ceramic tub. Immediately, Chan was all over me, and I forgot all about being domesticated or whatever.

His mouth was hot as it clashed with mine. I knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted to take my mind off of the tragedies of my work life by forcing me to give 100% to my sex life.

Not that I would complain.

If anything, I drove myself even closer to Chan, allowing my tongue to tangle with his own. “Y/N,” he moaned into our kiss, and I responded by wrapping my fingers around his cock, already half-hard against his stomach.

“Channie,” I purred, making sure to squeeze him tight, moving my hand up and down the smooth length of his rising erection.

I turned my wrist to touch him just right, and the way his heart thundered against my ear reminded me that there were far more important things in my life that I would never lose.

And that would always be good enough for me.

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