#fanluv
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đđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđyou're so sweetieđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđthank youđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđđ
writing from different povs is always so fun for me esp if there's an element of angst or some kind of misunderstanding or wtv else omg i can't help it đ but thank you so much jaeyun for reading and enjoying this fic, i've always been a big fan of yours so this is extremely moving for me #FANLUV #MAMAPARK
i'll love you forever
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.
genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating
warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesnât rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon
word count: 21,858
playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))
author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.
to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you đ anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.
In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, heâd been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. Theyâd welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, âOh, I didnât know you were coming home this weekend.â when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this.Â
In the last three months, he hasnât so much as sent a text to his parents.Â
Or to you.Â
Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, âHi, sweetie, I love you đ,â turns into, âMissing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?â which turns into, âGetting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!âÂ
Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come.Â
Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isnât answering calls either. Whatâs going on with you two?
When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, âIâm going home.âÂ
And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasnât the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you werenât there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay.Â
The look of worry on his mumâs face stirs a pit in his stomach. âWhy are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,â she says, frowning. âIs it school? Or something with YN? Itâs not like her not to text back.â Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. âBreakups are never easy, honey. Iâm so sorry, I know how much you love her.âÂ
Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head.Â
Whether she knows it or not, sheâs handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies.Â
For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. Heâd imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches.Â
âWe didnât break up,â he says in a small voiceâfor some reason. âIâm just having a hard time.â Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.
The tightening grip of his mumâs arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs heâd been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mumâs cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes.Â
His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but itâs weird to be home without you.Â
There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend heâd made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you.Â
Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising heâs crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking.Â
Though he didnât know it at the time, youâd left Yeonjunâs place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one youâd only visit to toast to each otherâs heartbreaks. It had become a ritual â ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks â to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments.Â
Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of âboy whose crush likes someone elseâ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. Heâd had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time youâd dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than himâtaller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didnât stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out.Â
This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeongâlying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didnât really have feelings for her â he didnât even know her â but she was a girl that you didnât know, so you wouldnât be able to meddle.Â
It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldnât hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony.Â
But the night was missing its usual comforts.
It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to âHoonieâs first heartbreakâ. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years.Â
Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than heâd been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat.Â
The voices coming from Yejiâs room disrupt the memory. Heâs thankful.
���Your brotherâs going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.â His motherâs voice is her version of hushedâa loud whisper.Â
Yejiâs response is harder to make out, but he doesnât miss the way their mum says, âI mean it, missy.âÂ
A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs.Â
âMum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.âÂ
Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt sheâs wearing used to live.Â
âI hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I donât know how Iâm supposed to carry on your legacy.â Sheâs looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows.Â
Itâs impossible to know if itâs because of Yejiâs complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her âperfect, golden boyâ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears.Â
âOh, uh.. Iâm sorry?â Yeji offers. âI was kidding if that helps.âÂ
âIâm alright, itâs okay.â The tears donât stop stinging his eyes. âWhy do you want me to change everything about myself?âÂ
With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesnât understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoonâs academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoonâs shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her.Â
âBut other than that, Iâm good.â She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. âHowâs YN?â she asks. Itâs clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks sheâs helping.Â
Sunghoon cries again.Â
Back on campus, heâs trying to scrape together whatâs left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word âfriendâ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jayâs goading him.Â
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. âThereâs nothing you can do that I canât,â he says, meaning every word.Â
Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his âabout to say something ridiculousâ look. âPretty sure I could call YN right now, and sheâd answer.âÂ
Thereâs a pit in Sunghoonâs stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like heâs been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesnât hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesnât waste his energy trying to argue because Jayâs right.
Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoonâs course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class heâs taking â The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway â is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but itâs the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.
âThis class is, like, beyond easy, dude.â Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. âEveryone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?âÂ
âI only took it because YN thought itâd be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of havenât been going since we stopped talking.â Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected.Â
As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him.Â
âSunghoon, a word?â you ask.
He thinks youâre asking, but itâs hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. âMe?âÂ
âDoes anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?âÂ
âOkay,â he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him.Â
As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your faceâwhich, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.
Sunghoon isnât sure what to expect, so he says, âHey.â Heâs being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. âWhatâs gooooood?â His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and itâs beautiful and happy, and youâre laughing because of himâor at him, but heâs glad either way.Â
Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. âWere you ever going to tell me weâre spending next week at Mum and Dadâs?â you ask.Â
Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. âI knew there was something Iâve been meaning to do.âÂ
His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. âCan you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?â Youâre frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. âItâs not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying thingsâmaking plans involving me and then acting like Iâm the bad guy when I turn you down.âÂ
âI donât think youâre the bad guy at all,â Sunghoon admits. âIf anyone is in the wrong, itâs me, I guess.â
You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. âYou guess? Are you serious?â You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. âI canât have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum Iâm sick, and itâs contagious.â You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor.Â
He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you?Â
Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like heâs not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseungâs help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set.Â
When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away.Â
The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been.Â
For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he canât remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. Theyâre cutting all the same.Â
Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceilingâa diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks.Â
Heâs glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear.Â
âI just got off the phone with Dad..â You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. âIâll go home with you.âÂ
âYou will?âÂ
âYes. Goodbye.âÂ
Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You donât smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. Youâre aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoonâs heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then letâs not be friends at all.Â
A familiar weight lands on his shoulderâyour hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if heâs okay.Â
With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods.Â
In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home.Â
âHowâs Yeonjun,â he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw.Â
âNo,â you say simply, shaking your head. âYou donât get to ask me about him.âÂ
These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but donât protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.
He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but heâs not entirely sure how to say itâso he just does. âMy, uh.. my parents think weâre dating.â
You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking.Â
Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. âWhy do they think that?â Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine.Â
He stares blankly at you, processing. âBecause I told them weâre dating,â he mumbles.Â
âWhy did you.. do that?â You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. âWhat are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?âÂ
A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? âWe can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,â Sunghoon offers. âJust one night, YN, please.âÂ
The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads.Â
Youâre staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. âOr we could say that youâre a liar and end things there,â you say. âOr better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.â
Sunghoonâs gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows youâre right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and itâd be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. âAlright,â he concedes. âIâll take you back.â
An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. âNo need, Iâll walk.âÂ
The station youâre at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow heâs not even sure it has a pavement. Youâre halfway through the three-hour drive, so thereâs no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and itâs deep enough into October for the wind to sting.Â
âFrom here?â he asks, incredulous.Â
âYes, open the boot so I can get my bag.âÂ
Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper.Â
âOpen the boot.â
He repeats your name as if itâll make a difference, heâs pleading with you, beggingâthough he doesnât know for what.Â
You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. âPlease.â
Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that youâre not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you wonât back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driverâs seatâyour move.Â
You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks youâll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. âLetâs just get this over with.âÂ
For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriendâeven if only for a night. You scoff when he âremindsâ you that youâve been together for four months now and the only reason you havenât been able to come home recently is that your schedules donât match up very well anymoreâwhich couldnât be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldnât be more suited for seeing each other.Â
Finally, at Sunghoonâs childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. Heâs relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours.Â
With his parents, youâd sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dadâs side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again.Â
Now, at 3 a.m. he canât sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. Itâs you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed.Â
He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises youâre not wearing your necklace.Â
Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didnât want him, you wouldnât want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldnât see if you had it on or not.Â
It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, whoâd gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it.Â
While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how âboys come and go but Sunghoon is foreverâ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights laterâit was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought heâd done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoonâs been riding that high ever since.Â
Until tonight at least.Â
âAre you okay?â he whispers.Â
âIâll do it, Hoon.â Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. âFor as long as you need me to, Iâll pretend.â
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You havenât called him âHoonâ in ages, and he canât tell if youâve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that youâve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, heâs not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why youâre crying.Â
âWhat happened?â
You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. âIt doesnât matter,â you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck.Â
For as long as heâs known you, youâve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet itâs only after these months apart that heâs able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much heâs missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he canât find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes itâs enough.Â
âYou can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.â
A heavy silence follows, sharp as a daggerâscraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoonâs breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close youâve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room.Â
Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that youâre okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you donât even stir when he lies down.Â
Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room.Â
For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. Itâs at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and youâre bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. Thereâs a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding.Â
âBaby!â you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. âGood morning.â Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn.Â
âItâs great to see you too, YN,â his mum says with a smile. âMy night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.âÂ
You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. âSorry, mum, how are you?âÂ
His mother doesnât seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. âgood morningâ to go unnoticed.Â
Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a âthank youâ, and his knees turn to jelly.Â
The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon canât stop you from dragging your feet.Â
As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that youâre determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most youâd do is step over his body like a fallen branch.Â
After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. Itâs been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. Itâs like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.
You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs.Â
Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. âWhat are you doing?â
Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. âHolding my girlfriendâs hand.âÂ
âNo oneâs looking, boyfriend.â
âYou think my parents arenât going to wonder why weâre lagging behind?âÂ
A scoffâyour fingers remain defiantly stiff. âDo you think your parents are going to care whether or not weâre holding hands?âÂ
âMy mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.â Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it.Â
A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. âSorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.âÂ
As your words hang in the air, Sunghoonâs emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesnât stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomachâhe knows you donât feel the same way, he knows youâre faking, but the word âpretendingâ hits him like a truck anyway.Â
âWe held hands all the time when we were friends,â he points out.
Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. âYeah, and now weâre not.âÂ
If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoonâs feelings the most, youâd be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction.Â
âExactly!â he says, feeling the sting of his own words. âBecause now weâre dating.â
At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. Itâs forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.
âYou two okay back there?â she asks.Â
âPerfect! I feel like a kid again!â you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesnât meet your eyes.Â
The two of you donât talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs.Â
âSheâs not feeling too well,â he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea.Â
His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesnât pretend not to like it.
Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. Itâs nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers youâre chopping.Â
His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neckâthe scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesnât do anything to stop the flush.Â
Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldnât stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.
After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song heâs never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses youâd used.Â
âLeave ours,â you say. âIf you want.âÂ
Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You donât speak either. Itâs reminiscent of the pastâthe hours youâd spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post youâd come across or to ask if you were hungry.Â
His eyes track your movementsâreaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine heâs already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it.Â
Sunghoon doesnât know why youâve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt.Â
âYou know you donât have to be nice to me when weâre alone, right?â The words come out before he can stop them.
Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. âWhat?â you ask finally.Â
âI only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You donât have to sit or talk with me when theyâre not around.âÂ
Sunghoonâs known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; youâre hurt.
âWhy canât I just be nice to you because itâs the right thing to do?âÂ
Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. âBecause I donât want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.â Is what he settles for.Â
Your face softens. âI donât feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I donât think you could ever make me uncomfortable.â You pause to take a gulp of wine. âWhy canât I just want to be nice to you?âÂ
Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. âIâm sorry,â he says.Â
âWhat for?âÂ
âEverything.âÂ
Thereâs a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. âItâs not your fault,â you say. âI donât know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.âÂ
Wow, he thinks. Youâre on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if youâre meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings arenât reciprocated as if he didnât live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed.Â
âBut I didnât have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.âÂ
âDid you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?âÂ
âMaybe?â Sunghoon chews on his lipâhe has no idea what he thought would happen. âI think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I donât know, just learn to love me.â
âHoon,â you whisper, frowning. âHow could you even think about settling for something like that?âÂ
Sunghoon shrugs. âItâs not settling if itâs you.âÂ
Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wallâa glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. Youâre picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak.Â
âI know itâs not my place to ask,â Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. âBut what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?âÂ
You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks youâre not going to answer himâhe doesnât blame you.Â
âI didnât.âÂ
He waits for you to elaborate. You donât.Â
Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. âHe didnât ask why we stopped hanging out?â he blurts out.
âI told him we fell out but I didnât say why.â You shrug, but your posture is stiff.Â
âWhere did you tell him you were going to be this week?â He knows itâs not his business at all, that heâs pushing your boundaries, but he canât help his curiosity.
âNowhere.âÂ
âYou told him you were staying on campus?âÂ
âI didnât tell him anything.â Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out.Â
âSo you just left?âÂ
âDoes it make a difference to you?âÂ
Sunghoon nods.
For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. âYeonjun and I arenât together anymore.â Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoonâs jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. âI didnât want to say anything because I didnât want you to think it was because of you.âÂ
Sunghoonâs thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each otherâdisbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadnât dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront.Â
âWas it?â he asks. âBecause of me?âÂ
You scoffâan incredulous sound that doesnât match the sad look on your face. âI donât know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?â
Heâs not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach.Â
âIâm sorry,â he says after too long. âThat I wasnât there. That I havenât been there.âÂ
âYou didnât know,â you say, gaze softening as you look up at him.Â
âBut I made you feel like you couldnât talk to me about it.âÂ
You shake your head. âI made me feel like I couldnât talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, Iâm the one who ended it.â
âI still shouldâve been there.âÂ
âYouâre here now, right?âÂ
Sunghoon nods, earnestly. âAlways.âÂ
Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word âalwaysâ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when itâs done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking youâve been doing.Â
âIs it bad that Iâve missed doing this?â Youâre grinning now.
Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. âTo YNâs fifteenth heartbreak.âÂ
You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. âTo YNâs fifteenth heartbreak,â you repeat.Â
Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memoriesâdoing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents.Â
For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yejiâs clock. Sunghoonâs eyes meet yours, and he canât help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do.Â
You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. âThis is my sixteenth, actually.âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. âMy fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.â
In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But thereâs no use pretending it doesnât hurt. Pretending it doesnât hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurtâa lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, youâll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, youâll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when heâs alone in his room, like now.Â
About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing.Â
He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gaspâhis mother.Â
âWhatâs this for?â she asks.Â
âI just..â You trail off. âI know itâs not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.â You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. âItâs been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I donât think I couldâve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And Iâm trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. Iâm sorry it took me so long.âÂ
He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurtingâan ache in his fingertips that makes him wince.Â
An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoonâs family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family.Â
The memory of your parentsâ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoonâs parents could continue looking after you.Â
His chest tightens when you start crying.Â
âYou donât have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. Youâre doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,â his dad says, a little choked up. âWeâve always been proud of you.âÂ
Sunghoonâs eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He canât hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once heâs dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yejiâs room.
In her absence, the roomâs subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.
Her hairdryer is still on her desk where sheâd left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yejiâs mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan.Â
Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. âMum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,â you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror.Â
Sunghoon canât find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but donât move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer.Â
Youâre sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that youâre never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, heâs glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak.Â
âBrush your teeth and go back to sleep then,â he mumbles around his toothbrush.Â
You donât respond.Â
Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. âAnd quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and itâs freaking me out.âÂ
âBut youâre so pretty,â you coo.Â
Thereâs a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. Youâre still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you canât see the flush on his cheeks.Â
âGo back to sleep,â he says.Â
âWill you come and lie down with me if I do?â Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves.Â
Lying down doesnât sound like a terrible idea, especially not if itâs with you, so he nods. âIf you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, Iâll lie down with you.âÂ
You chuckle softly at Sunghoonâs agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didnât mean to, itâs been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like heâs glued to the spot.Â
âMove, baby,â you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. âWe can cuddle in my bed,â you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word âbabyâ on a loop in his head.Â
He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he canât go on like this, canât stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him âbabyâ and it meant something for you as it did for him. Itâs not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he canât help it. Youâre already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave?Â
The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. Youâve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows youâve only asked him because youâre tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when heâs two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.
Itâs dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. Youâre staring up at him, smiling and you donât look away when he catches you. âWhat is it?â he asks, voice thick with sleep.Â
âNothing,â you mumble. âI just missed you.â Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again. âCome on, dadâs cooking tonight, heâll need help.âÂ
Helping Sunghoonâs dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, heâs sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. Heâll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as heâs reaching the halfway point.Â
You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says itâs best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning.Â
The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoonâs lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace youâre wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing.Â
âYouâll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,â you scold, using a hand to push his knee. âWeâre almost done, I swear.âÂ
All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it.Â
âWow,â his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. âBeing in love looks good on him, heâd never have listened if I said that.âÂ
Itâs already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldnât have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while â You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. â as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.
âGod.â Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. âIâm so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.âÂ
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yejiâs words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yejiâs head, you look at him with a fond smile. âHeâs not so bad.âÂ
It doesnât sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart.Â
Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead.Â
Itâs nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a monthâs worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.
Contrary to what heâd been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and youâre telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new cafĂŠ that opened up near your place and how youâll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely.Â
Youâre still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You donât say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.
He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. âThank you,â he mumbles into your hair.Â
Sunghoon doesnât follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You donât notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. âArenât you going to walk me up?âÂ
The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them.Â
âDo you want to come in?â you ask from your open doorway.
âIâuhâI have training in the morning and Iâm already pretty tired, so..â He trails off.
Unfazed, you nod. âRight, of course. I had fun this week.âÂ
âYeah, me too.âÂ
You smile at him, sweet and sincere. âText me when you get home, yeah?âÂ
Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesnât leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down.Â
True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but donât reply. Itâs empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.
YNđŤ: iâm glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i donât want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. iâve been missing you so much and didnât know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so iâd like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik itâs a long shot ahahaha but just say youâll think about it?Â
hoonie: Youâre not overstepping at all, Iâve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and Iâd like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along đ If youâre free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer
hoonie: I missed you so much..Â
hoonie: đ¤
The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesnât escape Chaewonâs notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you.Â
âGood trip?â she asks, coming over and hugging you. âNever leave me for that long again,â she mumbles into your shirt.Â
âIt was a week, Wonie,â you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too.Â
She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. âIt was nine days.âÂ
âThe longest of my life.âÂ
Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. âThat bad, huh?â she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her.Â
During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her.Â
âNo, not at all,â you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. âI had fun.â As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesnât work.Â
Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. âHow much fun?âÂ
âYouâre disgusting.âÂ
âI didnât even say anything!â she defends, holding her hands up. âI made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and itâs hot.âÂ
âShut up.âÂ
âYouâre telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still donât want him? Youâre a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,â she says, tilting her head. âI think I would kill for that chance.âÂ
âDonât touch him.â
âOh?âÂ
âJesus, Chaewon, itâs not like that. Hoonâs too sensitive for your roster.âÂ
âI never said it was like anything, youâre the one whoâs dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.âÂ
âSunghoon isnât hot; heâs..â You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, youâve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparentsâ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. âJust leave him alone.â
Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. âOkay,â she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.
You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. Itâs not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldnât bother you, nor would it be any of your business. Theyâre grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, thereâs a nagging feeling you canât shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind.Â
When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.
you: sounds good, see u later đ¤
After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once â drunkenly â said he loved on you.
You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand.Â
hoonie: Do you want to head to class together?Â
you: sure! iâm omw out, where should i get you?Â
hoonie: .. Iâm outside your building :DÂ
Breathing a laugh through your nose, you donât fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, heâs standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.
âHey!â you call out, jogging over to him.Â
Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction.Â
âI wasnât sure if youâd have eaten anything yet, you donât normally in the morning,â he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. âMatcha. Ham and cheese toastie.âÂ
âDid you make these?â you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides.Â
He hums, nodding his head.
You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When youâre done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day.Â
âIâm meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but Iâm all yours after that.âÂ
âTalk about your grades? Whatâs wrong with your grades?âÂ
Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adamâs apple. âMy grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think heâll bench me if I fail again.âÂ
He sounds like heâs being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoonâs grades were your parentsâ favourite point of comparison.
âReally?â you ask. He nods. âWhatâs up? Is something the matter?âÂ
A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. âYeah, my best friend didnât talk to me for three months.âÂ
âOh..â Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. âIâm sorry.â
âIâm not blaming you, itâs not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.â He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. âBut if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.âÂ
âDeal.âÂ
Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isnât unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. âYouâre too good to me,â he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.
At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.
Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. Thereâs something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard.Â
During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; itâs a document adorned with Sunghoonâs own musings about Hemingwayâs style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.
âHow are your notes so good?âÂ
âI picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,â Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. âI liked it.âÂ
A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But thisâthis is different. You canât help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was.Â
âDonât look at me like that,â he mumbles.Â
Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words heâs typing: I wouldâve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..
Thereâs no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thingâa single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose â the most prominent â against your skin.Â
You remain this way â silent, watching â even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesnât notice your gaze searing into his face.
After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. Itâs uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way youâre sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjinâyou wonât do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoonâs face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs.Â
To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for youâheâd written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.
Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure youâre surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They donât say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact heâd given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. Youâre not sure why their silence disappoints you.
Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence.Â
âWhat flavour for ice cream?â Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. âAnd donât say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.âÂ
âThat happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?âÂ
Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose.Â
âMint-cho isnât that bad,â she starts. âItâs a little jarring, sure, but itâs kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.âÂ
You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know sheâs not trying to insult you, but donât know what she means when she says, âIt must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.âÂ
Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statementâs journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets â the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood â at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices.Â
Itâs only hours after Yunijnâs gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.
âI think Iâm getting sick,â you say as soon as she opens her door. âItâs been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.âÂ
Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. âDo you..â She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. âDo you have any idea what time it is right now?âÂ
âYes. Itâs three a.m.âÂ
âExactly. See a doctor if youâre sick, Iâm going back to sleep.â
âThis is an emergenââ Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. âItâs three in the morning,â she reminds you. âYou canât yell like that in my hallway, come in.âÂ
You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. âSorry,â you whisper when the door is closed.Â
Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. âYou donât look or sound sick,â she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. âWhat are your symptoms? And why did you come here?âÂ
You donât have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. âMy cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.â
âYou seem fine to me.âÂ
A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. âThatâs the thing. Iâll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like Iâve run a marathon.â You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of youâitâll be easier to confront that way.Â
From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. âOh?âÂ
âI know.â You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. âItâs only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.â
At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like youâre glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed.Â
âWhat are you smirking for?â you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door.Â
Her response only comes after youâve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. âItâs nothing,â she says, laughing.Â
âTell me.âÂ
Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think itâs meant to be comforting but itâs the opposite. âYouâll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isnât deadly.âÂ
Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm.Â
Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but canât help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up âlovesicknessâ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like âunrequited loveâ forming a pit in your stomach. Thereâs nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequitedâyou think.Â
It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way heâd tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents werenât there to see, or how he slipped up and called you âbabyâ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You canât fake something like that.. Can you?
Yeonjun did.
Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jakeâs story comes up first; heâs at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring.Â
Oh, you think. Lovesickness.Â
When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jakeâs story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportionâso vast thereâs a safety railing lining its edges.Â
You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like youâre watching it on a screenâit was your third night at his parentsâ house, after your walk.Â
You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours.Â
There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoonâs mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world.Â
You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gazeâhe brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate.Â
âHi,â you said, clearing your throat.Â
âHi,â he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. âItâs still hot so be careful.âÂ
Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell youâd come to associate with comfort and homeâwith Sunghoon.Â
âItâs not fair for me to treat you like shit just because Iâm annoyed, I shouldnât have spoken to you like that earlier. Iâm sorry.âÂ
A crease ran over Sunghoonâs thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. âYou donât have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didnât even try to think about how you would feel. Iâm sorry.â His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.
âAnyway, I only came to bring you that,â he said, pointing at the cup. âAnd to check up on you, Iâll get out of your hair for tonight.â Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hairâwhatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. âYou left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. Iâm sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didnât feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.âÂ
Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first yearâthey were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didnât feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one youâd been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED IâD BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest.Â
âGoodnight, YN,â Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. âI really am sorry.â
That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it.Â
This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. âYou have class in an hour, what are you doing?â Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. âOh, the feelings.âÂ
You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say.Â
At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isnât around to tease you about the smile you canât wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoonâyouâll text her later.
You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you donât stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who donât take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vainâyou would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.
Itâs not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon.Â
you: i have news wonie.. i like sunghoon
wonie: âŚâŚâŚâŚâŚ.. fork in the kitchen yn whatâs the news?Â
wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call?Â
She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasnât arrived, and thereâs no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call.Â
âAre you going to tell him?!â Chaewonâs voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear.Â
âI donât know.â You shrug even though she canât see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. âI donât have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. Itâs been a while, and I was pretty mean that day.Â
Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. âDid you have to tell him to get a grip?âÂ
âYou know..â You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. âIn hindsight, probably not.âÂ
A beat passes, sheâs thinking. âDonât worry,â she says. âIâll help you.âÂ
âI.. have never been so worried in my life.â You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. âBut I know youâll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.âÂ
Chaewon squeals down the phone. âI love youuuuu!â And itâs the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up.Â
Slumping in your seat, you donât have any time to stress about Chaewonâs plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm.Â
She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that youâll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of termâIan McEwanâs Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.
hoonie: Wanna study together after class?Â
you: of course!!!!!!Â
hoonie: đ¤
The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.
you: class just finished, heading to lib rnÂ
hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table?Â
you: iâll try..
It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when heâs here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view.Â
Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesnât help that heâs wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didnât realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You canât tell if itâs his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him thatâs making his biceps look so huge but itâs hard to look away, even when he reaches the table.Â
âAre you hot?â you blurt out.Â
Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way heâs looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. âDepends whoâs asking.â He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.
âIâm asking,â you mumble.Â
âThen, yeah, Iâd hope so.âÂ
Is he flirting? It sounds like heâs flirting. Flirt back! âNice arms.âÂ
He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. âAre you flirting with me?â He canât fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.
âA little. They are nice though,â you admit.
Sunghoon grins. âThanks, Iâve had them for a while now.â
You canât come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. Itâs only when you look away from him that you remember what youâre here for. Itâs a study date, not a study dateâthereâs a difference.Â
You hand Sunghoon the material youâd printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts youâd studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you canât help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while heâs thinking. You arenât making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you canât help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you canât see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up.Â
After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. âCould you stop watching me?â
âIf you noticed me watching, that means youâre watching me.âÂ
He shrugs, chewing on his lip. âWell, yeah. Iâm always watching you,â he says like itâs a given. âBut you donât normally watch back, itâs distracting.âÂ
âYouâre distracting.â
A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. âAm I?âÂ
Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you donât look as wound up as you feel.Â
Sunghoonâs eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you donât recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head.Â
âYou know,â he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. âIf my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldnât want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?âÂ
Oh.Â
Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. âSunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.âÂ
His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesnât spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.
âAre you going to get that?âÂ
Sunghoon shakes his head. âItâs nothing.âÂ
You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that heâll elaborate without being asked to. It doesnât take long for him to deliver.
âItâs just Chaewon,â he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. âWeâve been texting a lot these days.âÂ
âCool.â You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesnât, only humming in response, nodding too.Â
After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you canât see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears reddenâFuck. This is worse than you thought.Â
Chaewonâs commitment to girl code runs deepâsheâs been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl sheâd never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing sheâs saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word âbuddyâ from across the table.Â
What you hadnât counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoonâs feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and youâd already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, heâd move on, he has moved on.Â
The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jakeâs been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set.Â
âWith or without the meals, I wouldâve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..â Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. âHe even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.âÂ
âYouâre terrible,â you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. âDo you want to come in?âÂ
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. âI have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, Iâd have to leave inââ He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. ââeight minutes.âÂ
âIâm cool with that if you are,â you mumble, suddenly shy.Â
A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in.Â
Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You canât help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you canât change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are?Â
You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadburyâs hot chocolate that youâre sure is on the brink of expiration, coffeeâsachets of the instant stuff youâve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewonâs mum brought home from a tripârooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon.Â
Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoonâs head and setting it beside your cup. Heâs on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything heâs seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink.Â
On the dish rack, Chaewonâs mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. âIâm going to check if Wonie wants any,â you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor.Â
Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. âSheâs not home, one of her acrylics popped off so sheâs at the shop waiting for a cancellation.âÂ
The information itself isnât jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation.Â
âIf you knew youâd have to go back to campus so soon, whyâd you walk me home?â you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. âI couldâve walked on my own.âÂ
Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope heâll say. You think you need him to say it.Â
âBecause you donât have to do anything on your own when you have me,â he says instead, and itâs infinitely better.Â
The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet.Â
Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when itâs time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.
Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You donât let go when he does, and a sweet laugh â a giggle, you think â tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on.Â
âYou donât have to walk me downstairs, honestly,â he says, looking down at you in the doorway.
âI want to.âÂ
His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force youâre sure itâs visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away.Â
âIâll text you when I get to the door, promise.âÂ
You lock your pinky with his. âSend a selfie, just so I know itâs you and not someone else using your phone.âÂ
Sunghoonâs head falls back in a laugh. âShould I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.âÂ
You nod.
âThat wasnât anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..â He trails off, searching your eyes. Itâs obvious that heâs telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. âI wasnât sure if that was something I could talk about with you.âÂ
Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture insteadâyour best friend is going through something and doesnât feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles.Â
âYou can talk to me about anything,â you say, meaning it.Â
Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. âNext time,â he says after a beat, waving at you.Â
You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoonâs calling.Â
Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.
Thankfully tonight, itâs the first one.Â
Youâve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flowsâan hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence.Â
Itâs during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, âLet me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. âI donât want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I wonât bring it up or ask again.â
Arching a curious brow, you nod. âYou can ask me anything,â you say, meaning it.
Sunghoonâs face is impressively blankâminus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, thereâs absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you.Â
Eventually, he asks, âCan I kiss you?â He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they donât register. They donât matter.Â
Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you canât get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands.Â
âFor closure,â you repeat, though your voice doesnât sound like itâs coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart.Â
Sunghoon nods. âFor closure.âÂ
A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldnât have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting.Â
One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoonâs hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like heâs committing them to memory.
Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoonâs kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. Itâs hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, heâs trying and heâs perfect; your favourite.Â
The kiss is.. itâs everything. Itâs the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. Itâs a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. Itâs Sunghoonâs soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and itâs every bit as lovely as the rest of him.
Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger.Â
Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. Youâre all Iâve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. Youâre everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think heâs saying, weâll be okay, I still love you.Â
With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathingâheâs beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoonâs hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.Â
Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. âWas it everything you ever dreamed of?â you whisper, part teasing, all curious.
Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. âI have to go.âÂ
You want to stop him, you think youâre supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you donât. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoonâs back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until heâs out of sight.Â
Itâs your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you canât tell if itâs his leaving or the mention of him moving on thatâs tripping you up so much. Thatâs causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under.Â
You love him. Heâs gone.Â
Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloyingâclay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on.Â
Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesnât reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing.Â
Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands.Â
âDonât move on.â The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you.Â
âHuh?â He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him.Â
You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. âI donât want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please donât move on.âÂ
The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.
âDo you..â He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.
âI do,â you whisper, nodding. âIâm sorry for taking so long.â
An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. âYou like me?â he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.
âI love you,â you admit, settling on his thighs.Â
âYou do?â His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.
You nod. âSo much.âÂ
Sunghoonâs chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that canât turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.Â
âSo.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?âÂ
Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. âI will. Iâm a little bummed though.âÂ
âWhy?â You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it.Â
âI wanted to be the one to ask you.â Sunghoonâs honesty warms the room, endearing you completely.Â
You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. âAsk me anyway.âÂ
âPlease can I be your boyfriend?âÂ
In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. Heâd get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. Heâd buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.
He wasnât ready to have sex and didnât know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didnât want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest.Â
The only thing was that your lecturer hadnât given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby âšď¸Â
This morning, youâre brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!
When the picture comes through, itâs of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. Heâs smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that heâs holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants.Â
Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesnât.Â
hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?
you: mm..Â
you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!
hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?
you: i love itâŚâŚâŚâŚ.
hoonie: My girl đ¤
Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.
you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hoonie: Thx đ
hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha đ
you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.
Your resolve isnât strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back.Â
The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. âHey, gorgeous. You proud of me?âÂ
You beam at him, holding out the flowers. âIâm very proud, Hoon, well done.âÂ
âI donât want to ruin the moment,â he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. âBut hearing you say youâre proud of me is awakening something I didnât know existed.â
âA good something?âÂ
âMm,â he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. âA very good something.âÂ
Sunghoonâs words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage.Â
He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. âI donât think we own a vase.âÂ
In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.
âOh, yeah,â he says. âItâs Jayâs. Itâll work right?âÂ
You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly.Â
âCan I take a photo?â he asks when youâre done.Â
Heâs smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too.Â
âTheyâre yours, baby, do whatever you want.âÂ
âA photo of you with the flowers,â he clarifies.Â
Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. Heâs watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.
âI want pictures of you too,â you say, handing the flowers over.Â
âIâm yours, baby, do whatever you want.âÂ
Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. Heâs glowing and heâs beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent.Â
âThank you, YN,â he says. âIâve never gotten flowers before, I love them.â His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond.Â
You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.
Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. Heâs nervous, you thinkâthough it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.
Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. âOf course, Iâm nervous.âÂ
âYou donât have to be.â
âI just want to be good for you.âÂ
âDonât worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.â Your palms drag up his torso â firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart â to rest on his shoulders. âSit,â you say when he nods.Â
He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot.Â
âWait,â Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. âLet me calm down, baby. At this rate, Iâll come just seeing your hand on it.âÂ
You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.
âIâm serious, YN,â he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. âI need a minute.âÂ
Sunghoonâs eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. Heâs so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You canât help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you heâs ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down.Â
Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you canât look away. âPretty,â you whisper.
Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adamâs apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. Itâs a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can.Â
Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.
âAm I doing okay?â you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.
He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. âIâm.. Youâre doing such a good job, baby, so good.â
Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock.Â
A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.
Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying whatâs left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. Heâs mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so youâre lying next to him with your head on his chest.Â
âYouâre amazing, baby, so good for me,â Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest.Â
Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. âReally?â
He hums in affirmation, nodding his head.Â
âYou were so quiet, I couldnât really tell,â you add, hungry for more praise.Â
âThe walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,â Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, âIâm sorry. You were perfect, I swear.âÂ
Itâs a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.
âCan I..â Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours.Â
You nod. âYou can.âÂ
Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you.Â
What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. Itâs almost jarring, itâs enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit.Â
âCan you take these off, baby?â he asks, hand away to touch your leggings.Â
You donât waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt.Â
âAnd this? If you want..âÂ
You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your braâwhite and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon canât seem to get enough, though he waits until youâre lying down again to touch you.Â
Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. âYouâre beautiful,â he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. âSo beautiful,â he repeats.Â
Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, âThank you,â into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legsâyou lift one of them, resting it over his body, and heâs smiling sweetly when you look up at him.
Sunghoonâs movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skinâthis time he pushes two fingers into you.
It doesnât get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly.Â
Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, âRelax, baby.âÂ
âDonât want to hurt you.â
Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them.Â
âYou wonât, I promise,â you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.
Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as youâll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage.Â
A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Itâs difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, âAm I hurting you?âÂ
âHoon,â you whisper.Â
âCan you look at me, baby?â He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. âAm I hurting you?â he asks again. âAre you okay?âÂ
You nod. âIâm okay, just..â You sigh. âFull. Need a minute.âÂ
Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. âWant you to move, baby,â you mumble.Â
He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. Heâs slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls.Â
Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.
You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. âGood, Hoon, feels so good,â you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.
âJust want to make you feel good.â His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. Heâs working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need itâthe spot that makes the room blur around you. âThatâs all I want.âÂ
Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chestâitâs the closest youâve ever felt to someone else, the closest youâve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.
Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you canât find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under.Â
You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth.Â
After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean upâgentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoonâs tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition.Â
The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into oneâthe thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back.Â
âI love you,â he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. âIâm glad I exist.â
mama park: Hi lovely đ missing you lots, wondering when youâll be home for XmasâŚâŚâŚ..love ma
Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesnât move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on â neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night â and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curvedâlong lashes kissing the skin under his eyes.Â
Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoonâs room. You canât help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back.Â
you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap
mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!
you: iâm so sorry we lied to you..
you: but iâm really happy with him and he loves me a lot
you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life
Š zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
#will have to check out ur work omg đ#just extremely glad to have patched your soul back up bc that could've been reaaaaaally bad..#pprodsuga#fic: ilyf
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COME WITH ME, FLY YOU OUT TO GREECE đŹđˇâ - Back with ANOTHER ONE! Yessirrrr! My bro @ryanragsdale12 hit me up and said let's keep up the pressure... so we collabed & came up with this! đđžđĽ Yo mad love to everyone that came out for this! You guys are really incredible & I appreciate all of you! đđž - đ¤: @djkhaled @champagnepapi đĽ: @boiwonderproductions #djkhaled #drake #champagnepapi #Greece #wethebestmusic #fanluv #dance #explorepage #bangitspercy #dance #boysdancetoo #dgbekstudios #orlando #orlandofl #urbandance #urbanchoreo #msafam #litdances #viral #anotherone (at DGBEK Studios) https://www.instagram.com/p/CD_uPoxhgwR/?igshid=1j2jmfbhi3xto
#djkhaled#drake#champagnepapi#greece#wethebestmusic#fanluv#dance#explorepage#bangitspercy#boysdancetoo#dgbekstudios#orlando#orlandofl#urbandance#urbanchoreo#msafam#litdances#viral#anotherone
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DO U LIKE CAMO?AND WICH CAMO COLOR U LIKE?
#camo#camouflage#bape camo#crazy#fashionstreet#ahmedfashion#funny#savage#yeah#happyday#musicforlife#lovefashion#fanluv
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A nossa audiĂŞncia ĂŠ abrangente. E por este amor eu sou grato. Obrigado pelo carinho â¤ď¸ đ¸ @luisgermano1 #AFROCRACIA #AfroPupo #Filda2022 #fanluv #tvzimbo (em Zona EconĂłmica Especial Luanda-Bengo) https://www.instagram.com/p/CgSJAEwOsYH/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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⢠GOD DID - TO THE WORLD đ #FANLUV keep sending your videos in!!post it with the #GODDID NEW ALBUM COMING SOON @wethebestmusic Follow @worldblog.page for more #GODDID FROM #djjhaled #washingtonpost #repost #aljazeera #instagram #explore #exploremore #worldwide #worldblog #worldstar #joseifworldblog #joseifworld #vivavideos #vidmate #vivavideos #videos #instablog9ja #unitednations #unitedstates #youtube #tumblr #linkedin #reuters #archive #nigeria https://www.instagram.com/p/CfryX2HOyR8/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
#fanluv#goddid#djjhaled#washingtonpost#repost#aljazeera#instagram#explore#exploremore#worldwide#worldblog#worldstar#joseifworldblog#joseifworld#vivavideos#vidmate#videos#instablog9ja#unitednations#unitedstates#youtube#tumblr#linkedin#reuters#archive#nigeria
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Congrats Gzz #Repost @djkhaled ⢠⢠⢠⢠⢠⢠#FANLUV THANK YOU!! #KHALEDKHALED OFFICIALLY CERTIFIED PLATINUM!! I donât take nothing for granted so im forever grateful!! Trust me we are just getting started⌠I told yâall im in #ALBUMMODE Staaaay tuned! In the meantime - LETS CELEBRATE!! Bless up @iamsylviarhone Rob Stringer @riaa_awards @wethebestmusic @rocnation @epicrecords @sonymusic https://www.instagram.com/p/CaaZ6tLljF5/?utm_medium=tumblr
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"You can tell if your relationship is from God just by the qualification, Does that relationship help you? You can tell that if this fool 𤥠you messing with, Is supposed to be in your life, If this relationship Is happening, helping you. We tolerate more relationships, That are taking away from us, That are stealing our peace, That are ravaging our joy That have us up at night... "Oh my God I think she gonna break up, BREAK UP WITH HER!đ§" She's not helping you! He's not helping you! "They're my friends, They are fly," They are fake! They are not helping you!đ§đ¤ #3 at INDIETOP CHARTâđŚđđŻ and still! Climbing! Thank You #fanluv Mastecki Records Always Number One... #newmusic, #music, #hiphop, #rap, #spotify, #artist, #rapper, #producer, #SoundCloud, #musician, #singer, #rock, #realtalk , #alwaysnumberone , #musicproducer, #indietopchart, #songwriter, #revival, #climbing , #hiphopmusic, #applemusic, #newartist, #newmusicalert, #lifequotes , #explorepage, #deepthoughts , #dontmakeitcomplicated #masteckirecords (at MalmĂś, Sweden) https://www.instagram.com/p/CWjPxS_olJh/?utm_medium=tumblr
#3#fanluv#newmusic#music#hiphop#rap#spotify#artist#rapper#producer#soundcloud#musician#singer#rock#realtalk#alwaysnumberone#musicproducer#indietopchart#songwriter#revival#climbing#hiphopmusic#applemusic#newartist#newmusicalert#lifequotes#explorepage#deepthoughts#dontmakeitcomplicated#masteckirecords
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No BrainerâđŤđ§ med âď¸ @djkhaled âď¸ @justinbieber âď¸ @chancetherapper âď¸ @quavohuncho âď¸ @asahdkhaled âď¸ #newmusicfriday #djkhaled #justinbieber #chancetherapper #quavo #filtrkids #fanluv #wethebestmusic #nobrainer #fredag
#fredag#djkhaled#filtrkids#newmusicfriday#fanluv#wethebestmusic#chancetherapper#justinbieber#quavo#nobrainer
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Track 9 thoughâŚđ #Repost @djkhaled with @make_repost ăťăťăť đ¤˛đ˝ #KHALEDKHALED TRACKLISTING đł ALBUM THIS FRIDAY APRIL 30TH #FANLUV I Know I said ALBUM 100% DONE but it might be 101% đ STAY TUNED! Also the next post is gonna.... MAN... all I know is ... it CHANGED MY LIFE! And itâs HISTORIC đ¤˛đ˝ @wethebestmusic @rocnation @epicrecords FAN LUV I LOVE YOU ! đđ https://www.instagram.com/p/COOKRKRg99JOSfDEaIO1dYqOWxAdU3r3d4oijQ0/?igshid=ehduq9xczofx
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"Greece" by @djkhaled @champagnepapi. Custom cover art & animation by me. #djkhaled #drake #greece #khaledkhaled #fanluv #champagnepapi #ovo #octobersverywown #cover #coverart #animation #art #design #photoshop #music #hiphop #pop #albumart https://www.instagram.com/p/CCv8cWXhA05/?igshid=fqb0a50jc12x
#djkhaled#drake#greece#khaledkhaled#fanluv#champagnepapi#ovo#octobersverywown#cover#coverart#animation#art#design#photoshop#music#hiphop#pop#albumart
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Some fans asked for a picđđ˝ #fanluv đ
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TL SLEEP? đ Bet. At about a quarter past midnight this morning I found out I was on @djkhaled 's page! And as THE COVER PHOTO OF THE VIDEO! đł WHAT IS LIFE!? đđđž I literally spazzed for like 10 min lol. S/O to my bro @ryanragsdale12 for tagging me in the comments... I wouldn't even have known otherwise. âđž This may not be a big deal to some people, but I'm gonna carry this 1 proudly. Khaled is a music icon yo. Like what?! đđĽ My boi @itsseanj filmed/edited the #Popstar class video. WE OUT HERE. #CatchTheHype - #djkhaled #drake #popstar #wethebest #wethebestmusic #bangitspercy #orlandofl #orlando #fanluv #dance #explorepage #viral #insane #blessed #greece #anotherone #itslit #stillcantbelieveit (at Orlando, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDY3ucTBiSt/?igshid=mh9h39njc43v
#popstar#catchthehype#djkhaled#drake#wethebest#wethebestmusic#bangitspercy#orlandofl#orlando#fanluv#dance#explorepage#viral#insane#blessed#greece#anotherone#itslit#stillcantbelieveit
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#TBT T5DOA Pop Up Shop @therealkiss @tomdsny Brooklyn, NY đĽ by: @drevinciwrks đś: @therealkiss & @myfabolouslife âStand Upâ off the Friday on Elm Street project available now! Shouts to @justgerard @mallythemartian @bigfendi for linking me with the legend to capture the dope vibes! #drevinciwrks #jadakiss #dblock #thelox #T5DOA #FASHION #clothingline #lyrical #realrap #raspy #hiphop #shotselection #NYC #FANLUV #videography #respecttheshooter #fabolous #standup (at Brooklyn, New York)
#tbt#realrap#thelox#t5doa#raspy#fashion#fanluv#standup#nyc#shotselection#fabolous#lyrical#clothingline#jadakiss#hiphop#respecttheshooter#drevinciwrks#videography#dblock
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. . . . . #justinbieber #djkhaled #anotherone #fanluv #beready #beliebers #bieber #belieber #haileybaldwin #justin #jailey #jelena #selenagomez #bizzle #arianagrande #justindrewbieber #quavo #chancetherapper #bieberfever #hailey #jb #purposetour #rihanna #belieberforever #baldwin #pattiemallette #hollywood #beyoncĂŠ #justinbieberfanpage #jarrodafreeman via @hashtagexpert (at Cheltenham, Victoria) https://www.instagram.com/p/B7aYl1aFIfr/?igshid=1jzbkytind3hn
#justinbieber#djkhaled#anotherone#fanluv#beready#beliebers#bieber#belieber#haileybaldwin#justin#jailey#jelena#selenagomez#bizzle#arianagrande#justindrewbieber#quavo#chancetherapper#bieberfever#hailey#jb#purposetour#rihanna#belieberforever#baldwin#pattiemallette#hollywood#beyoncĂŠ#justinbieberfanpage#jarrodafreeman
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#BloodBrothers #letsmakethisyearGreat #Letswork #engineer #producer #love #fanluv https://www.instagram.com/p/B6XOsvZlLL1/?igshid=1k6ip65tik1rv
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Alantis âWild Thoughtsâ contest entry shot by TwoTimeDavis and co-edited by yours truly (Corey Goines).Â
#wildthoughtscontest#wildthoughts#wild thoughts contest#wild thoughts#rihanna#dj khaled#bryson tiller#nicki minaj#beyonce#lady gaga#rihannanavy#beyhive#barbz#fanluv#fashion#fashion blogger#fashion blog#blog#blogger#style#style blogger#style blog#share#music
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