The Younger Kind Part 45 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is loving his life at home. Skittles continues to fit right in while you inadvertently insist on nearly finding the one thing Bradley wants to keep hidden. A family day at the beach followed by a night alone with you are the only things he wants to focus on right now. It would be great if that's what he was allowed to do.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4000 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
It was late by the time Bradley got home with Skittles, and you were pretty tired after assisting with an emergency at work. But Noah must have heard him pull into the driveway as he called out, "Daddy's back!" in the middle of coloring a rainbow turtle. He was out of his seat and heading for the front door before you could stop him, but it didn't matter, because you were anxious to see Bradley, too.
When you rounded the corner, he was kneeling on the floor and collecting Noah in his arms, a light blue bakery box on the floor next to him. You were used to seeing him with one arm around Noah while he held Skittles, but right now he was looking up at you like you were the only thing in the room worth his attention. It was remarkable that he still made you feel this giddy.
"Hey, Baby," he rasped. "You had a good day? Your emergency patient doing okay?" Then he stood up with his arms full and leaned down to kiss your forehead. He was still in his uniform, tall and strong, holding everything you cared about against his chest.
"Yeah. I had a good day," you replied, somehow managing to squeeze your way between Noah and Skittles to give him a kiss on the neck while he chuckled.
"Me too. Skittles got a clean bill of health," he whispered, and you could hear his stomach growling. It had probably been seven or eight hours since he had lunch, so you bent to pick up the bakery box, already craving a donut.
"That's good. Come on," you coaxed, tucking your index finger inside the top of his pants and earning a raised eyebrow as you tugged him toward the kitchen. "We already ate, but I'll heat up some leftovers for you while the two of you color."
"Daddy, is Skittles your best friend?" Noah asked as you set the box on the counter and took a peek. You gasped, because it was filled with crown donuts. You looked at Bradley over your shoulder where he was now sitting with his son on his lap.
"I think technically either Mommy or Aunt Natasha is my best friend, Bub."
You smiled as Noah sternly said, "No. It's Skittles. Mommy and Aunts don't count."
"Right. My bad," Bradley replied as he fiddled with something in his pocket. When he met your eyes, you noticed his cheeks were a little flushed as you bit into one of the donuts. "I got you a whole dozen this time."
"I see that," you replied, setting it down again so you could heat up a plate of food. "Did you run into Casey?"
"I did not," he replied as Noah handed him a green crayon. "It was just Skittles and I running up the credit card bill. That animal clinic is expensive."
"I believe it," you replied, taking a bite of potato from his plate to make sure it was hot enough. You'd always wanted a dog, but according to your parents, everything to do with pets was too pricey. They wouldn't even let you have a goldfish when you were a kid.
You set Bradley's dinner in front of him before grabbing the container of ants on logs out of the refrigerator for Noah. You arranged them on a plate in a zigzag shape before giving them to him, and he had one in his mouth before the plate was all the way set down. When you turned to get your donut, Bradley reached out and wrapped his hand around your thigh, pulling you back to him.
"Princess," he whispered. "I love you."
He looked tired, and he was clearly in a bit of a soft mood. Maybe even sentimental. The way he called you his best friend a few minutes ago made you smile even now. But his dark eyes held so much devotion as he examined your face that you ran your fingers down along his cheek and let your forehead rest against his. You knew he was starving; you could still hear his stomach growling, but he made no move to release your leg to take a bite of his dinner. So you just stayed there, your lips brushing his every time you moved.
"I love you too, Daddy."
You grinned against his kiss as Noah crunched loudly on his carrot sticks. This was where you belonged. You could barely even remember the details of your tiny rental because of all of the richness of your home with Bradley. It was overpowering. Living with Bradley and Noah had a dreamlike quality that made everything better.
"You need to eat," you whispered, kissing Bradley one more time before returning to your donut.
-----------------------------
"I want Skittles to sleep in my bed!" Noah was practically crying, his cheeks bright red with frustration as Bradley tried to get him ready to go to sleep. He was overtired and cranky, and right now he was inconsolable. "You said after she got her cast off, she could sleep in my bed!"
"Noah," Bradley said in his softest tone as his son's arms flailed in his pajama shirt. "I said we can try, but we can't force Skittles to do things. Do you understand?"
But he just whined, "I want her to sleep in my bed!"
Bradley sighed where he sat in the middle of Noah's bedroom floor, the engagement ring still tucked in his khaki uniform pants pocket. He didn't know where to put it. He didn't even know exactly when he wanted to give it to you. But he desperately needed to get it stashed away somewhere before he just proposed to you tonight, because having it on his person was making him feel a certain way about you. Maybe it was a good thing that Noah was kind of killing the vibe.
"Just get in bed," Bradley told him. "If you get in bed right now, I'll bring Skittles in."
He watched Noah launch himself into his twin bed and pull the blankets up to his chin. The odds that the pup would stay in Noah's room even for a few minutes were pretty slim. You had her out in the backyard right now so she could go to the bathroom, but the little pooch was almost glued to Bradley's side whenever he was home.
As soon as you walked back inside in your cute little shorts and tank top set with Skittles at your feet, Bradley bent and scooped her up. "Noah is losing his mind. Wish me luck." He turned away from you with a smirk and kissed Skittles on her head. "If you stay in there until Noah falls asleep and long enough for me to fuck my Princess, I'll give you a treat."
You were cracking up in the kitchen as he walked away. "You're bargaining with the dog!" But he knew better. Skittles wasn't just a dog, she was his best friend after all.
Noah's eyes lit up in the soft glow from the nightlight when Bradley entered his bedroom with the pup. "She got used to her own bed, okay? So if she doesn't want to stay, we can't make her." But Noah's arms were outstretched, ready to hold his pet, and Bradley got her nestled in under the blankets next to his little body.
As the dog looked up at him, concern for her new sleeping arrangement in her puppy eyes, Bradley bent to kiss Noah on the forehead and Skittles next to her bow. "Try to go right to sleep," he whispered to Noah. "I'm serious."
He just giggled in response as the dog licked his face, and Bradley did not see this little experiment ending well as he exited the room. He patted his pants pocket just as he had been doing all night. It took all he had within him not to open up the box and check to make sure your ring was secure, and he still didn't know where to put it for safekeeping.
When he entered his bedroom, he abandoned the idea of finding a good hiding spot when he found you in the middle of the bed wearing your paper crown. You looked so young and impossibly innocent with your glossy lips and your pajama set, but your filthy words betrayed you. "I heard you wanted to fuck a Princess."
He ran his fingers through his hair and smirked as he stood next to the side of the bed while you crawled toward him. "I always want my Princess," he whispered as your lips hovered just inches away from his zipper. When you looked up at him, every trace of innocence was completely gone, and you leaned in until your lips met his tip through his khakis. "Baby," he moaned, but before you could get his zipper down, he reached for your hands.
"What's wrong?" you asked as he pulled you up so you were kneeling in front of him.
"Nothing's wrong. Everything is very right."
You smiled up at him as he kissed your lips softly. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, as plainly evidenced by the ring in his pocket right next to where your hand just settled. So as he guided your fingers up to his chest, he asked, "Do you want to go on a date with me?"
You laughed against his lips. "You're asking me on a date? We're already in a relationship."
Bradley's hands settled on your hips as he nipped along your jaw until his mouth was next to your ear. "Doesn't mean I can't ask you out. I got selected to fly in the air show, and I want you to be my date for the weekend."
"Really?" you gasped, your fingers tightening around his shirt buttons. "Noah and I get to watch you fly? And you and I can tour the children's hospital?"
"Mmhmm. I wasn't about to let you go with Jake. That man only has one thing on his mind when it comes to you."
"Oh yeah?" you asked, feigning pure innocence once again through your voice. "What does he have on his mind?" When Bradley responded by tucking his hand inside your tiny shorts and stroking your bare pussy, first you gasped, and then you laughed.
His touch remained soft and tentative as he slipped one finger down to tease your opening. "You see, he doesn't want you the way I want you."
"How do you want me?" you whimpered softly, kissing his lips.
"I want you with me for the rest of my life."
"Daddy!" you whined, kissing him desperately as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He knew nobody else had ever spoken to you the way he did, but he also knew he'd never been in love like this before. This time, when you reached for his zipper, he let you have him. His shirt and pants ended up on the floor along with your tiny pajamas, and you welcomed him into your tight pussy as you told him you loved him.
"I have everything," he groaned as he made love to you as you peppered kisses along his flushed cheeks. "You're everything."
After you came for him, Bradley let himself indulge in filling you up while thinking about your belly all swollen and pregnant, and you reached for him just as Skittle came trotting back into the bedroom. Your soft laughter as Bradley curled up behind you had him laughing, too.
"The dog will literally do anything you ask," you whispered as she walked across the room and turned three circles around her dog bed before plopping down. "She stayed in bed with Noah long enough for you to fuck me."
"Dogs are man's best friend for a reason, Princess."
You snuggled in his arms for a few minutes, fingers laced with his as you kissed his forearm. Just as Bradley was starting to doze off, you said, "I'll check on Noah before I get ready for bed." He squeezed you tight one time before releasing you and rolling onto his back to stretch. "Ow!" you gasped when you climbed out of bed. "Shit! I just stepped on something hard in your uniform pants."
His eyes went wide as you started to bend down to investigate, but he vaulted out of bed. "I'll take care of it," he practically yelled, and you dropped his pants. The ring box made a soft thud as it hit the floor, and you gave him a strange look.
"Okay," you replied, glancing at him one more time before pulling your pajamas on and heading out of the room.
"Fuck," Bradley grunted, picking up the pants and rooting around in the pocket until the box was in his hand. He turned away from the door and snapped it open, revealing the most perfect ring he had ever seen. He was already obsessed with imagining it on your finger. But he snapped it closed again quickly and ran for the dresser.
He could leave it with his undershirts, but when he opened that drawer, he realized you were in that one a lot, often borrowing from him. He opened the next drawer down, but it was filled with your cute underwear, so that definitely wouldn't work. He reached for the bottom drawer which was filled with his socks, but he heard you coming back down the hallway, so he dropped the box and kicked it shut.
"Aren't you going to get ready for bed?" you asked as you plugged your phone into the charger, still eyeing him a little cautiously. Bradley realized he was just awkwardly standing there naked in front of the dresser for seemingly no reason, so he was definitely going to have to move the ring later.
"Yeah," he agreed, grabbing some clean underwear and kissing you as he walked past. "Getting ready for bed."
--------------------------
On Thursday, Bradley let you know that everyone was insisting on a beach day on Saturday, but when you texted Natasha about what kind of bathing suit she was planning on wearing, she claimed she might not even go.
"Well I don't know if I want to go if Nat isn't going," you complained to Bradley while you made dinner. "I don't want to be the only female there. In a bathing suit. That would be weird."
"She's going," Bradley said with an eye roll. "She's just being difficult, because she's trying to pretend nothing is going on with Javy. Besides, I'm not going unless you're going." He took the spoon you were holding out of your hand and spun you around to face him. "I don't want to go anywhere without my Princess."
You let him kiss you and slip his hands underneath your top, trying not to moan as his calloused hands danced softly along your skin. When his lips skimmed along your cheek, you whispered, "You just want me there to help you walk safely across the uneven rocks and sand." You bit your lip as he eased his face away from yours to give you a cautionary look. So of course you immediately added, "Because you're such an old man."
One big hand slipped down and softly spanked you on the butt as you laughed. "Old or not, I can still get the job done. And that includes walking across the beach."
"Sure, Daddy. But I'll go, too. Just in case."
"Thank you. Now if you think you can be nice for a minute, I have something to tell you."
"I can be very nice," you said, kissing him on the tip of his nose before spinning around to check on dinner.
Bradley patted you on the butt before reaching into the refrigerator to get two beers out. "Penny offered to take Noah home after the beach and keep him for the night."
As he opened both bottles, your gaze drifted to where Noah was sitting on the kitchen floor, building blocks while Skittles basked in the last rays of the setting sun. You licked your lips as you watched Bradley press his mouth to his beer and take a long drink, the bob of his Adam's apple capturing your attention. "We'd have the house to ourselves for the night?"
He winked at you as he set his beer on the counter and pressed the other one into your hand. "Just you and me," he rasped, pecking your cheek. "And I can think of a few fun ways to pass the time."
Then he was on the floor with Noah, and Skittles was in his lap, but he kept shooting you his smug smile that you liked so much.
On Friday night, after Noah was in bed, you started to get things packed up for the following day. "Why do we need so much stuff to go anywhere?" you mused out loud as you found sunblock and beach towels.
"Oh, hell no," Bradley said, taking you by the hips and pulling you away from the tote bag you were packing. "First of all, you used to bring your textbooks over in that bag when you were babysitting, so it gives me an instant boner." You erupted into laughter as he held you against his chest. "But second, you drastically over packed when we went to the lakehouse."
You looked up at him over your shoulder. "I know," you whispered. "But I want Noah to have anything he might need or want. And you know how my parents were." You didn't like talking about them. They never understood you when you were a child, and that's why you'd moved out as soon as you could. They were also the reason you had a hard time spending Bradley's money even though he wanted you to be comfortable.
"I know, Baby," Bradley crooned, and you melted back against him. "I love how much you love Noah. And I hate that you never got to do anything or ask for anything when you were his age, but there's no need to go overboard for a beach day."
You nodded. "Well then why don't you help me pack?"
"I'd be happy to."
But you and Bradley spent more time kissing and laughing softly than anything else. His hands were all over you, just pulling you closer and trying to keep you there. "Let's go to bed," he whined for the third time, convinced you'd packed everything the three of you could possibly need. "I want to cuddle with you."
You nearly shrieked as he picked you up, leaving the pile of gear for the beach next to the front door, and carried you back to the bedroom. "Oh, you want to cuddle?"
He hummed and nodded against your shoulder. "Yeah. Let's save all the nasty shit for when we're home alone tomorrow night." Butterflies erupted in your belly as he set you down on the bed and climbed in next to you. "Let's cuddle."
You were wrapped up tight in his arms, Bradley's soft, even breaths tickling your neck as he whispered that he loved you. This was perhaps the safest you'd ever felt in your life. Nobody was going to hurt you here. Not now. Bradley would take care of that. And you would take care of him.
As you snuggled in to go to sleep, your eyes caught on the items lined up on the dresser. "What's all of that out for?" you asked softly.
"Huh?" Bradley grunted, probably already part way asleep. But you propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at the purple USB drive, a pile of your underwear, your purple plug, your paper crown, and the bottle of lube. All sitting in a tidy row.
"On the dresser, Bradley."
"Oh," he said with a chuckle as he pulled you down flat again. "I started packing for the weekend, too. So to speak."
-------------------------
Bradley grunted, trying his best not to let you see how awkwardly he was walking across the sand. Not after you made the claim that he'd need you to hold his hand and guide him. You and Noah pranced ahead of him, but he was stuck carrying two bags, a cooler, an umbrella and a beach chair. And the temperature of the sand was roughly that of the surface of the sun.
"Fuck," he growled as the sand rushed into his flip flops and his aviators slid down his nose. How you were managing was literally beyond him. He just wanted to get this afternoon over with and get you back home and into bed. He had some plans for you, all of which were becoming more explicit by the moment as he watched your ass swaying in your purple bikini bottoms.
Literally the last thing he needed right now was to become aroused, so he just pushed your delicious looking rear end from his mind. Apparently you found the perfect spot, because you finally stopped and turned around to look for him. Then you laughed and left Noah with Nat while you made your way back to him.
"This sand is fucking hot," he complained before you could say anything at all.
You took one of the bags and the umbrella from him as you said, "It's August, Daddy. Of course the sand is hot. Do you need me to help you along? Or, I could run back to the Bronco and get your walker?" You started to turn in the direction of the parking lot with an innocent look on your face.
"You're really looking to get it tonight, aren't you?" Bradley replied, dumping everything next to where Noah was burying Nat's legs in the sand. You looked so pleased with yourself, and he thought about the ring that he had moved to the pocket of his dress whites that he'd picked up from the dry cleaner. They were hanging in the back of the closet, and he figured you'd have no reason to look there. Before you could run off, he pulled you in for a tight hug and said, "Stay out of trouble. Be a good girl. And I'll give you anything you want later."
Your lips met his ear, nudging his aviators crooked. "I love you." His fingers skimmed your skimpy bathing suit bottom as you joined Noah who had Nat covered to her thighs.
Javy was trying his best to casually toss a football around with Mickey and Mav, but he couldn't keep his eyes to himself. It was a good thing Bradley was absolutely convinced he was looking at Nat and not you, otherwise he'd have a problem. He left you next to the pile of everything you packed, intending to simply join the little football scrimmage that was going on, but then he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, that's really nice, Bradshaw," Jake drawled. "You brought the family today. The little ball and chain, and the big ball and chain."
Bradley hooked his sunglasses with his index finger and dragged them roughly down his nose. "Funny," he said without emotion. "But you weren't calling her a ball and chain back in April when you tried to hook up with her in my kitchen."
Jake hooted with laughter, and it made Bradley's skin crawl. He was such a dick most of the time, and it was always intentional. "There's a difference between hitting a tight pussy and inviting it to live with you. I know the difference. You don't seem to. I'm surprised you didn't bring your dog along, too."
Bradley snapped. "What the fuck is your problem, man?"
Jake met his gaze, and Bradley was reminded without a doubt that Jake would love to get inside your little bikini bottoms just to say he could. "I don't have a problem, but it looks like you do." He jerked his chin toward the volleyball nets, and Bradley turned to investigate. You were standing there, holding hands with Noah while you talked to a guy with blond hair. Upon further inspection, Bradley realized it was your ex boyfriend, Greyson.
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Well, well, well. We actually hate you, Grey. If Daddy and Princess can manage to make it to their sexy night home alone, what would you like to read about? And I really hope that ring is well hidden until Daddy comes up with a plan. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 46
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the only exception | beomgyu x reader
pairing: beomgyu x female reader
content: love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda
tw: mentions of fight and blood
words count: 12k
notes: reposting because of high demand (lol)
preview:
you were not the type to believe in the existence of love. to you, there was no such a thing as true love; no such a thing as unwavering, unbreakable, and unparalleled fondness and devotion for someone. to you, people love to get something they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents were a living prove of that
the day you were old enough to understand the lack of love and affection between your parents to each other, and to you; you swore to never grow that feeling to anyone — family, friends, partner. anyone. because to you, love did not exist.
you were content living that way for years, not happy, but content.
the absence of love in your life protected you from attachment, heartbreak, sorrow — those negative emotions that you deemed unnecessary and unworthy to be sitting inside of you.
life was okay without love, you thought.
until you had to spend the rest of your summer with a distant relative whom you've never met in your entire life, in a small town with an ocean view, where fate had brought you a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky.
and maybe, just maybe, love does exist.
a comforting smell of freshly brewed chamomile tea wafting in the air as you make your way inside the unfamiliar home — the one you will be spending three months in because your parents are way too busy flying around across the globe to be taking care of you.
"come on in, y/n." the woman in front of you speaks, her voice soft, the type of voice a kindergarten teacher would have.
maybe she was one, you have no idea. in fact, you know nothing about the woman standing in a yellow dress in front of you. she is pretty, even though it is evident her aging is slowly creeping up to her from the way her skin wrinkles on the corner of her eyes when she smiles. but to you, she is pretty- the mother-like kind of pretty. the kind of pretty that makes you feel warm inside.
but again, you know nothing about her. have never seen her in your entire life. never even heard her name from any of your parents until today.
aunty sue.
that was the name your mom had told you in the car this morning when she was dropping you off at the train station, she couldn't even make some time to drive you straight here, and telling you the woman is a distant cousin of hers whom she hasn't met in a long time. and that was also the name the said woman had introduced herself to you.
"do you want some tea, honey? or anything else?" she asks, making her way into the kitchen as you trail behind her like a little lost puppy.
"tea is fine," you reply.
leaning against the kitchen counter, you roam your eyes around the room. some parts of the walls are painted in pastel green while another part is decorated with a plaid wallpaper with the same color — just a shade darker. the counter tops are full of kitchen appliances, cookbooks, sunflower patterned dishes, and freshly washed vegetables along with some other things. there are random little trinkets on the windowsill — a wooden carved statue of a cat, a line of herbs in old tomato cans, and a sun catcher being hung at the corner of the window making tiny little rainbows refracting inside the kitchen.
the furniture of the dining area does not match with each other — one wooden chair with a striking blue cushion, a yellow wicker chair and another two plastic chairs in white. though everything is mismatch, it doesn't look weird. it feels right, even.
it feels like home.
very different from your house where nothing is ever out of place. the countertops made of slick white marble, picked personally by your mother, are always shiny as if no one has ever touched it. truthfully speaking, they kind of are. no one is ever cooking in that kitchen. you bet the only stains that has dirtied that counter was that one time you spilled your morning coffee on it. the stove, it looks brand new compared to the one in front of you right now which looks like it has been in service for more than a decade with how rusty it looks.
everything in your house is perfect to the tee. a façade that is what you like to think — to mask the family's imperfections.
a house that never felt like a home.
"i'm going to keep my stuff in my room first, i'll be right back," you say as you pull your luggage with you.
"sure, honey. your room is the second door on the right."
honey.
not even your own mother has ever called you that.
you haul your bag with much difficulty up the stairs, cursing yourself mentally for overpacking, before making your way to the said door. the room is spacious, not as big as your own room back in the city, but still enough to fit a queen-sized bed in the middle, a study desk by the window and a two doors wardrobe in the corner.
the glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony are being left slightly open, the warm summer breeze blowing the white sheer curtain. leaving your luggage by the bed, you make your way over to the balcony — pushing open the sliding door wider as you step out into the outdoor.
to say you are astonished is an understatement. the view in front of you is breath-taking — the house is located on top of the hill, overlooking the neighborhood and the ocean, the season's bright sunlight is making the scenery even more spectacular.
you breath in the air, inhaling the smell of the blue sea with your eyes closed.
there is someone, other than aunty sue, downstairs — you can clearly hear the sound of a male voice which is a little bit too loud to be ignored, talking to the woman in the kitchen about how his mom had forced him to deliver cake to all the houses up the hill in the middle of the day.
"y/n, honey! are you done? come downstairs, please." opening your eyes, you let out a soft sigh as you walk back inside, keeping your eyes on the ocean outside as you close the glass doors.
it's okay, you have the whole three months here. you tell yourself as you make your way back into the kitchen, the guest is still going on about how his little rant.
"i mean, don't get me wrong. i love summer, but to deliver all of them under the sun? god i felt like-.." and as he turns to face you who is standing at the entrance of the kitchen, your breath hitch in your throat.
you're not sure is it the iridescent illumination from the sun catcher beaming on him, or the glow of his skin that is glistening with sweats from biking under the summer rays, or the sparks in his eyes as he stares at you;
but oh god, he is beautiful.
not pretty, but beautiful. the angel-like kind of beautiful. the kind of beautiful that would make people turn their heads. the kind of beautiful that would make you steal glances at him if you were to sit in front of him in a train. the kind of beautiful that makes the ocean view you saw earlier lose its' price.
the once in a lifetime kind of beautiful.
"y/n, this is beomgyu, his mom owns a bakery down the hill."
"oh, this is the girl that you've been telling me about!" he says excitedly as he makes his way over to you, "she's pretty."
and you almost choked on your saliva. how can he be saying things like that so casually?!
"hi, i'm choi beomgyu," he says, extending out his hand for a handshake. "aunty sue told me a lot about you so i'm kind of excited to be your friend, that is if you want, of course."
you look down to his hand, lifting your own as you slowly put it in his. "im y/n,"
though it feels rough, his hand still holds a certain kind of warmth that makes you feel secured. you can feel calluses on his fingertips, too. does he play the guitar?
you're not even sure why you feel bashful under his gaze. you don't understand the warm fuzzy feeling you're getting when he keeps his hand in yours. you don't get why your heart is beating so fast when he says your name, the syllabus rolling perfectly on his tongue like it was made for him and only him to say.
"well then, i look forward to hanging out with you, y/n."
the conscious side of your brain is already blaring an alarm, telling you to turn him down, telling you that no, you don't want to hang out with him. that no, you don't look forward to spending your summer with him.
but despite that, you find yourself nodding to his words. "me too, choi beomgyu."
it has been three days since you have first arrived, and you have concluded that choi beomgyu is a man of his words.
you didn't think much when he told you that he looks forward to hanging out with you, thinking that he was just being nice to a newcomer and to act friendly to you.
because that's all you have ever known — people acting nicely to you.
you remember when you used to associate in a group of girls back in middle school; it was one of the worst times of your life. eleven years old you were so naïve (read: stupid) to realize that those girls were just using you for your unlimited amount of cash — always inviting you to go shopping, forcing you to throw fancy sleepovers — until one day one of them literally had to scream in your face that they were only hanging out with you for your daddy's money.
and since then, you have never tried to befriend anyone and those around you never approached or asked you to hang out, either.
so, it is a surprise to you that choi beomgyu stays true to his words.
yesterday, he had come over early in the morning looking as beautiful as you had remembered the first time you saw him; asking you if you want a little tour of the small town. you had declined, telling him you still had a few things left to unpack, leaving the boy pouting. you had felt slightly bad, just slightly.
you are in the backyard with aunty sue, picking up some ripe tomatoes from the small garden. she told you she has been tending this small part of her backyard for almost seven years now, planting
various kinds of vegetables, using the excuse of she doesn’t like the ones sold in the market, when in reality she just really loves gardening and watching her plants come to live day by day.
“is the tomato that interesting to you?”
you jump in surprise as you hear a low voice speaking next to your ear. turning around, you find a grinning beomgyu looking down at you. he peeks under your straw hat, trying to have a better look at
your face. “you look like a tomato yourself.”
you frown, “what do you mean by that?!”
he bends, hands resting on his knees, now being eye to eye level with you. humming, he continues to study your face.
there is always something about him that never fails to make blood rush to your face. yesterday it was the way he dressed — white sleeveless top tucked messily inside his black jeans. it was simple, nothing outstanding about it but to you, he was breath-taking. and today; it’s the way he’s looking deep into your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every blink.
the rational part of you is telling you to push him aside or to move away, to break the eye contact. but the other part that you have no idea existed inside of you until you met him few days ago, is telling you to keep staring into his sparkling eyes, to play along to whatever little game he has put on.
the rational part of you won as you take a step back, creating a safe distance between your figure and his. you can feel your cheeks flushed, fully blaming it on the warm temperature as you had been
standing under the sun for quite a while now.
“your cheeks are so red, like a tomato.” he giggles, “are you hot?”
you look away from him, hiding your face under your hat as you whisper, “k-kinda…”
he was about to move closer to you again, hand reaching over to your hat, but it stops mid-air when aunty sue is calling over for the both of you. thanking the lord and savior, you quickly make an escape
from him as you walk over to where your aunty is standing with a plate full of freshly cut watermelon in hand.
you sit beside her on the porch, while beomgyu is standing right in front of you. “tell your mom i say thank you for the watermelon,” aunty sue says and the boy just hums, hand reaching down to pick up two pieces of the sliced fruit, handing one over to you.
you thank him quietly and he smiles down at you, “you will never find a watermelon as sweet and juicy as the ones that my grandfather planted.” he boasts, and aunty sue make a sound as what sounds
like she is agreeing with him. “that’s right, mr.choi planted the best watermelon in the country.”
the scorching heat of the sun calls for you to take a bite of the fruit – it is sweet, just like what beomgyu had said. “it’s so good,” you speak under your breath. you’re not sure how he manages to hear what
you said but he did, as the smile on his face grow wider. “right? i told you!”
he waits for you to finish the slice in your hand before handing you another one, all the while still towering in front of you.
“sit down, beomgyu.” your aunty says to him to which the boy just shakes his head. “i’m protecting y/n from the sun,” he replies casually, taking a bite of the watermelon “she looks like a real tomato
right now.”
both you and aunty sue look up to him in sync. he is, indeed, covering you away from the sun — being tall makes it easier for him to shield you away from the direct sunlight of the summer rays but his back
is taking up all the consequences of his action as you can see droplets of sweat forming on of his neck, sliding down to his back.
you glance to aunty sue, a coy smile on her lips. “j-just sit down!” you scold him, pulling him down by his wrist to sit beside you on the wooden veranda.
aunty sue giggles, “talking about tomato, do you want to bring some home, beomgyu?”
he shakes his head, “thanks, aunty sue but no one in that house enjoys eating tomato.”
“but i do want to ask for your permission to steal this cute tomato away from you for the night,” he says as he pokes your cheek with his index finger to which you move slightly away. “my friends are doing a bonfire by the cliff later, i was thinking to bring y/n along.”
you hesitate, gaze moving from his face to your aunty’s. “you can go, y/n. it’s much more fun to hang out with people your age rather than spending time with me,” she ensures you.
you look back to beomgyu, his eyes hopeful as he waits for your answer.
“okay, then.” you finally give in, a wide smile making its’ way across his face.
he stands up, one hand in the pocket of his pants as he bends down to look at your face, again.
“see you tonight then, tomato.”
one conclusion you can come up after spending a good half an hour with choi beomgyu is that he does not have a sense of personal space — not that you mind, at least for now when you are surrounded by unfamiliar teenagers laughing and chattering around the bonfire.
you’ve been stuck to his side since the moment you reached the cliff. it’s not like you are that comfortable with him but out of everyone here, he is the only person you know. despite that, choi beomgyu looks like he is that comfortable with you — hand on the small of your back while walking, wrapping his flannel around your waist so that you won’t get your shorts dirty (when in reality he just doesn’t like the way the other boys are looking at the exposed skin of your legs), sitting too close you can feel his shoulder brushing against yours as he moves.
truthfully, you would have been so annoyed. but this is choi beomgyu. he is choi beomgyu and you have no idea what’s about him that makes you feel so protected. even now when he has his hand on top of your right knee while he’s talking to his friends, you don’t feel irritated.
it feels right. he feels right.
“beomgyu!” someone calls him over from behind. he sighs, “i’m gonna go talk to him for a while, you’ll be alright here, right?” he asks to which you just nod your head.
what is he expecting you to say answer? no, don’t leave me, beomgyu. as if you would ever say that out loud.
the warmth of his palm leaves your skin as he gets up, making his way over to the blue-haired boy that was calling for him. your let your eyes linger on him, watching as he gives the guy a fist bump before
both of their gaze move to you and you quickly look away.
“you’re y/n, right?” a guy who is sitting in front of you speaks.
you nod, “hueningkai, right?” you ask, remembering his name after beomgyu had introduced you to him earlier. and you glad you did from the way his eyes lit up when you get his name right. years of
attending charity events and parties where you were forced to talk to random people by your parents has thought you to imprint people’s names on your mind easily.
“heard you’re from the city. how is the life there? i really want to live there someday, it’s really boring here,” he pouts. “the nearest mall is like, miles away.”
“i think it’s fun here,”
“yeah? and why is that?”
you go quiet for a moment. why is that? — there are various reasons why you think the town is not as boring as hueningkai believes. for an example, the ocean. there is no beach in the city, the nearest one being a whole hour drive away. the air here is cleaner too, not as polluted with vehicles smokes as the city. the weather here is nice too; though it’s summer, the heat here isn’t as bad as it is back
home.
and as your mind try to come up with another reason why you think the town is fun, your eyes move over to the brown-haired boy laughing along to whatever joke the blue-haired one has said to him.
even in the darkness of the night — the only source of light coming from the fire in front of you, he is still beautiful. the way he throws his head back as he laughs, the way his eyes are sparkling under the
night sky, the dimple that appears on his cheek as he smiles.
“it’s fun because there’s beomgyu, right?”
you turn your attention to the boy sitting across from you, his eyes on the same person you were staring few seconds ago.
“do you like him?” hueningkai asks, out of sudden.
“w-what?” you look at him, bewildered. “i don’t know what context of like you are talking about, but he is a good fr-…”
friend.
you so badly wanted to call beomgyu your friend, but you don’t even have the slightest idea of what a friend is — you never had one, at least not a real one. all through your school years, you have never
really had someone you can call as friend. sure, you talked to your classmates, but they felt more like acquaintances than friends. and you never bothered to get close to anyone because you know there
are always something they want in return — money, gifts, invitations to fancy parties, rich kids from your family’s circle to date, the list goes on.
so, you stop yourself from labelling beomgyu in that way. he is not your friend, not after only three days of knowing each other.
“he is a good guy, of course i like him. what kind of person doesn’t like good people?” you say, shifting in your seat to which hueningkai just shrugs his shoulders, “i think he likes yo-…” he stops talking midsentence when someone throws their arm around his neck, holding him in a chokehold.
“taehyun is calling for you,” beomgyu says as he smiles down wickedly at the younger. hueningkai knows his friend is lying but he just rolls his eyes and walks away to where taehyun is sitting.
“let’s go somewhere,” he extends his hand over to you.
“where?”
beomgyu grumbles, “just come.” taking your hand, he pulls you up to your feet.
following him from behind, you have no idea where he is taking you as you both walk further and further away from the group, until you’re climbing down the cliff.
he offers his hand to you, and you gladly accept, “be careful.”
holding your hand in his, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you down to the ground with an ease. the night is pretty chilly compared to the sunlit afternoon earlier, but beomgyu’s hand still
hold a certain kind of warmth. and even though the temperature is low, you still can feel heat rushing up to your face when he keeps his arm around your waist even after you’ve set your feet safely on the
sandy beach — you’re glad it is dark, you don’t think you want him coming up with another vegetable related nickname for you.
“i wanted to bring you here yesterday, but you were busy unpacking. and i wanted to do it today too, but you looked so tired from helping aunty sue,” he says. “i know this is not the best time to be coming
here since it’s so dark but i just thought maybe you would want to see the ocean at night too.”
you move your gaze from his face to the moana in front of you. the water is calm, small waves crashing along the shores. no one else is around, only you and him.
you were about to walk over to the water’s edge when you feel beomgyu tugs on your hand gently. “take off your shoes first, pretty girl.” bending down, he wraps his hand around your ankle before
slowly pulling the white alexander mcqueen off of your foot. beomgyu is surprised, to be honest, to the fact that you casually wear a very expensive pair of sneakers to a lame bonfire party. then again,
these shoes probably didn’t cost that much for you.
“all done, you can go now.” he stands up straight again and he can’t help but notice the pink shade decorating your cheeks even in the inky night, “tomato.” he chuckles, pinching your left cheek.
you gently swat his hand away, blushing deeper, before walking to the water again. you smile as you feel the sand seeps through your toes as the waves crash on the shore. turning around to beomgyu, you see him with a soft smile in his face as he watches you from a distance.
“join me,”
and he can’t seem to decline your offer when you’re looking so ethereal underneath the moonlight, a gentle smile on your lips as you move your feet around to play with the wet sand.
abandoning his cheap pair of sneakers beside your expensive ones, he runs over to where you’re standing back facing him. he pretends to push you further to the ocean to which you react faster, shoving him — making him fall into the water with a big splash.
“hey!” he shrieks, quickly getting up on his feet. you take that as a sign for you to run — in which you didn’t manage to escape far enough when you feel his arms circling around your waist before he pulls you down along with him into the water.
“beomgyu!” you whine while splashing more of the salty water towards him while giggling.
and that night, while you both are walking home, soaked from head to toes with your wet clothes sticking disgustingly on your skin, laughing and giggling, you thought; maybe this is what friendship feels like.
“aunty sue, i’m going out for a while!” you call out your aunt in the kitchen as you’re running down the stairs toward the front door.
she peeks her head from the kitchen’s entrance, “where are you going, honey?”
“beomgyu’s mom’s bakery!” you reply, already stepping outside and you failed to catch the tender smile your aunt is throwing your way as you are busy putting on your shoes. “i’ll be back before dinner.”
when you push open the gate of the house, beomgyu is already waiting for you on his bicycle, a hat in his hand as he offers it over to you. “put it on, it’s too sunny.”
you accept with no question, putting the white hat on. it smells like him — like a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters. it smells like summer.
he smells like summer.
beomgyu watches as you put his hat on, holding back his smile to how adorable you look trying to tighten the hat’s straps to fit your head’s size. his hand reaches over to your face, tucking a few strands
of your hair that have come loose from your braids behind your ear. “pretty,” he whispers under his breath.
you look away from his eyes, quickly moving to sit on the backseat of his bicycle, wincing as the exposed skin of your thighs come in contact with the burning metal of the seat.
“sorry, chieko has been out in the sun for a while,” he says, referring to his bike. “you good?”
“yeah,” you shift on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “you name your bicycle with a dog’s name?”
he hums as he starts paddling, “my grandfather got this bicycle from a japanese owned shop. the owner used to have this really cute golden retriever by the name chieko, i loved him, hence the name.”
he explains, “is it weird?”
“kinda,” you reply to which he just laugh it off.
it has only been a week of summer break and beomgyu had come up with so many plans for the both of you. he has promised to make this, as quoted from the man himself, the best summer of your life
— to which you just responded with a raised eyebrow. you don’t mind spending the whole three months of break with him, you don’t mind at all. in fact, you would really like the idea — but he doesn’t
have to know that.
one of the plans he had come up with is; baking. and that is how you find yourself in the back of his mom’s bakery, with a baby pink apron tied around your waist and beomgyu going around in the
kitchen looking for the ingredients for the fruit strudels he had promise to make with you.
“oh, you must be y/n.”
you turn to the source of the voice, and you quickly bow your head, “ah, yeah. nice to meet you.” the woman in front of you have the same dimple as the one on beomgyu’s, and the way she smiles warmly remind you of her son too.
“you’re really pretty, just like what beomgyu had told me.”
“mom, where’s the peach?” he asks, stopping his mom from exposing him further, as he is rummaging inside the fruit basket on the counter.
the woman giggles, “is our beomgyu shy? is he embarrassed if his mom is going to tell the pretty girl all about the things he had talked about her?” she continues, emphasizing on the pretty girl.
you look over to him and notice how his ears has turned slightly red from his mom’s teasing. you’re not sure why he is acting that way when he has called you with that specific nickname so many times
already.
“mom~” he whines, all the while avoiding your eyes that are fixated on him.
his mom lets out a loud laugh — now you know where beomgyu got that from — as she walks over to the fridge behind you. “i keep them in the here, baby.”
“oh,” he says, taking the peaches from his mom’s hand. “thank you, my lady.” he leans down and kiss his mom’s temple to which his mom playfully pushes him away. the gesture tugs a string in your heart
— a feeling of longing. you can’t remember when was the last time you hugged your mom, or your dad. heck, you can’t even remember when was the last time they asked you about your day.
“have fun baking, y/n. i’m only a shout away if you need something, okay? in case beomgyu burns the kitchen down,” she jokes again before walking out to store again.
beomgyu sighs, “sorry about her. she can be a bit… overbearing sometimes.”
“no, she’s fun.” you says, stepping closer to help him with the fresh fruits.
and that’s how you spent your thursday morning; baking various fruits strudels — peach, strawberry, mango, blueberry. well, it was beomgyu who did most of the work but nevertheless, you had fun
cutting up the fresh fruits.
the oven digs, indicating the pastries have been baked. beomgyu pulls the tray out, before setting it on the flour-covered counter. “oh, it smells amazing!” you exclaim excitedly.
“wait until you taste them, they are,” he looks down at you, making a chef’s kiss gesture to which you just giggle. “well, we have to let them cool down first before putting the cream and the fruits. wanna
go up to my room while we wait?”
you hesitate, never ever in your life have you ever stepped a foot in a boy’s room. despite that, you find yourself nodding to him, “sure.”
he nods, taking off his apron and waits for you to take yours off before snatching it from your hands, hanging them on the hook by the fridge.
following him up to his room which is located at the second floor just right above the bakery, you notice the picture frames decorating the wall going up the stairs. family portraits, baby pictures of
whom you assume are beomgyu and his brother, wedding pictures of his parents, a picture of beomgyu’s kindergarten graduation. it’s like the family’s own little hall of fame.
imagining your house in your mind, you don’t think you have any other picture being hung on the wall aside from that one huge family portrait in the living room — the one where you were looking so rigid
sitting in between your parents. you hated that picture, and you still do. family portraits are supposed to be a symbol of happiness, a symbol of affection, a symbol of a healthy family relationship but your family does not have any of that. the picture that was taken in the fancy film studio in france was just another attempt to cover the family’s despair. it’s pathetic, really. how hard your parents are trying
to come off as a happy married couple with a perfect daughter. throwing the money away for material things that can cover up the lack of happiness in the household. it’s pitiful, the only thing they need to be raising a happy family is the one thing that they lack in life.
a loud chirping at your right as you step onto the landing of the second-floor surprises you. you turn your head to look at the green-colored parrot in the cage. it has its’ head tilted as it stares up at your
unfamiliar face.
“this is toto, my pet.”
“your pet?”
he nods.
“out of all the animals you can have as a pet, you chose a parrot?”
he shrugs, “toto is everyone’s best friend in this house.”
you blink, and he does too.
“oh, okay.” you say and he nods. “come, my room is this way.” he leads you over to the door that has a messy scribble of ‘choi beomgyu’ in colorful crayons, opening it for you and urging you to take step inside. “after you.”
his room is surprisingly neat. well, it’s not like you have seen a guy’s room before but you did assume beomgyu to be a little messy kind of person — the usual clothes on the floor, comic books scattered
on the bed, snacks wrappers on the desk. but his room is clean, no used clothes on the floor, only a round foldable table in the middle of the room.
“how long are we supposed to wait for the pastries to cool down?” you ask, taking a seat on the floor by the desk. “around half an hour,” he replies. “you know what other baked goods i’m really good at?”
you shake your head, “tell me.”
“pumpkin spice cupcake, but we don’t have any in the store now. it’s not autumn yet so finding for pumpkin is quite hard this time of the year.” he explains.
“how am i supposed to have a taste then?”
“that means you have to come here again during autumn,” he says. “i’ll bake every autumn desserts for you. beside, don’t you want to see my pretty face in a different season too?”
you grimace, “what difference does your face make in autumn?”
he laughs before reaching over to his guitar that was leaning against the wall beside the door.
so, he does play the guitar.
“do you want to hear a snippet of the song i wrote?” he asks while tuning his guitar.
“you wrote songs?”
“yeah, for fun though. i’ve never really let anyone listen to it, aside from the guys.”
“sure,” you say, holding in your excitement.
“i wrote this a few days ago, it’s not finished yet but i’ll try to give my best.” he gives you a smile before he starts strumming his guitar strings softly.
and when you thought choi beomgyu is already beautiful from the way he smiles, from the way his eyes twinkle under the summer sunshine, from the way his whisker dimples form on his cheeks when
he laughs — here he is giving you another reason to think that he is the most heavenly person you have ever came across when he opens his mouth to sing.
your fresh fragrance, your sparkling eyes
makes me feel better
reality loses its power, even the earth dies
the moment is eternal
you’re not sure is it the way the sunlight shining through the open window or the way his eyes are fixated on you while he sings, but you can feel the blood rushing to your face, leaving your cheeks feeling so warm.
no matter where you are, no matter what season
if we’re together, feel like summer
“this is getting boring.” says hueningkai as he throws the uno cards on to the floor before plopping on his back on the ground.
“agree, we should be doing something else.” taehyun, who has been scrolling on his phone since half an hour ago finally spoke.
beomgyu, with his four other friends along with a few others are sprawled out in choi yeonjun’s basement. they’ve been doing everything that they deem fun to do in the last four hours — the video games, board games, card games, truth or dare (in which beomgyu had successfully dodged every single question and dare related to you).
“let’s hit the diner, i’m kind of starving,” one of yeonjun’s friends, minho, suggest to which the other boys agree without any objections.
“nah man, i’ll pass for tonight.” beomgyu says, already standing up from his seat, “think i’m going to go home and sleep.”
“really, sleep?” minho asks, smirking up to beomgyu. “or are you going to see that girl, what’s her name again? y/n?”
beomgyu raises his eyebrow, “what does y/n got to do with this?”
sensing the shift in the air, soobin quickly nudges minho in the rib. “hey, shut your mouth.” says the older.
“i don’t know, beomgyu?” the blondie continues, “i barely see you hang out with your friends lately. every time i ask them where’s beomgyu, their answers were always the same; hanging out with y/n.” he pushes his tongue against his cheeks, clearly enjoying how extremely annoyed beomgyu looks.
“you don’t even have time for your friends anymore now? why? too busy fucking that little rich bit-…” and the next thing beomgyu knows is he is on top of the guy, throwing punches across the blondie’s
face as both soobin and yeonjun try to pull him away.
“don’t you fucking dare say that word.” he yells out loudly, throwing another blow on minho’s cheek.
minho forcefully pushes beomgyu, making the latter falls on his back as the blonde-haired boy climbs on top of him, punching him on the corner of his lips before yeonjun had to (literally) throw hands
towards minho to make him stop punching his younger friend.
there’s a loud ringing in beomgyu’s ears, his head spinning.
he was never one to resort to violence when it comes to anything. aside from that one time he accidentally kicked a girl in elementary school while trying to show off his hapkido skills, beomgyu has never hurt anyone physically. but there is something about the way your name rolls on minho’s tongue that make him sick to the core.
he gets on his feet after regaining his vision again, blood trickling down from his lips. he gives his friends one last glance before running up the stairs of the basement, slamming the door loudly as he walks out.
wiping his bloody lips with the sleeve of his hoodie, he curses under his breath, thinking he can’t go home with bruised lips and blood stains on his hoodie — his mom would make a big deal about it.
so, he continues walking — passes the front of the bakery, up the hill. feet moving according to where his heart wants him to go. to find comfort.
and it wasn’t a surprise to him as he stops in front of your aunty’s house, looking up to the second floor where your room is. the lights are out, total darkness surrounding your room. of course, it’s half
passed midnight, of course you will be sleeping by now.
beomgyu is not sure why did he came here. it’s not like he wants you to see him in this state — bruised lips, fresh blood still oozing from the cut, tousled hair, red stains on the sleeve of his yellow hoodie.
no, he doesn’t want you to see him looking this miserable. he was just trying to look for comfort, and to him, his comfort comes in the shape of a girl in an oversized blue t-shirt standing across from him.
“you scare me!” he says as he finds your figure standing in front of the gate of the house.
“what are you doing out here?” you ask.
“what are you doing out here?”
you cross your arms on your chest, “i saw you from the window.” though the only source of light shining on him comes from the dingy lamppost above him, you’re still able to make out his busted lips.
stepping over to him, you gently take his face in your hands. at that moment, beomgyu knows coming here to actually see you wasn’t a bad idea when he can feel the heat from your palms engulfing his cheeks.
he wanted solace and apparently you are his.
“what happened to you?” you ask softly, afraid that if you raise your voice any higher it might hurt him.'
“i fell…” he says, “for you.”
you take your hands off his cheek, slapping his arm to which he jokingly winces in pain. “how could you slap me when i’m already this wounded?” he pouts, “i did fell, okay? i tripped while coming up
here. the hill can be pretty steep sometimes.”
“you’ve been going up and down this hill your whole life, how can you suddenly fell today out of nowhere?”
“i don’t know? people make mistakes, y/n.”
you roll your eyes, “come on, i’ll clean it up for you.”
beomgyu didn’t hesitate to follow you into the house, up the stairs and into your bedroom. you lead him over to the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise and waking up your aunt in the room
right across from yours— you don’t think she would appreciate you bringing a boy into the house in the middle of the night, and the last thing you want is her thinking there’s something passionate going
around between you and the baker’s son.
taking his face in one hand gently, you blow onto his cut. “it’s going to sting a little, okay?” he hums, enjoying the cool breeze from you on his open wound.
he watches you tentatively as you dab the antiseptic on his skin. “does it hurt?” you ask to which he just shakes his head no. “okay. phew, this is kinda scary.” you giggle as you lean closer to his face again, your nose a few inches away from his.
beomgyu roams his eyes all over your face — your eyes, your nose, and your lips. he observes the way your long eyelashes flutters against your soft cheeks with every blink you make. the way your pupils dilate as you are so focused on attending his busted lips. the way your nose scrunches up occasionally when he lets out a low groan of pain. the way your lips are pull into a pout while you’re busy nagging to him.
even under the ugly fluorescent light of the bathroom, with you wearing the most basic clothes — no fancy summer dresses, or blouses, or expensive sneakers – with your hair messily being put up into a bun, face free from any kind of make-up, to choi beomgyu; you are the most beautiful.
and in the daze of post-punched and being in your presence, he lets the words slip out of his mouth.
“you are so fucking beautiful, y/n.”
the saying of time flies when you’re having fun is actually true. days have turned into weeks, and weeks have turned into months — it’s already been two months since you first arrived in this small
town with the ocean view.
the past months have been filled with many new things you’ve never experienced in your life — going hiking to see the sunrise with beomgyu, harvesting vegetables and herbs with aunty sue, helping
beomgyu’s mom in the bakery, binge eating snacks at the convenience store past midnight with beomgyu and his friends, barbecue party with the townspeople.
and the most precious thing you’ve encountered during this summer break is friendship — not only with beomgyu, but his friends too. you’ve come to get comfortable with yeonjun, soobin, taehyun and
hueningkai along the way after spending time with them. beomgyu had brought you along to hang out with them a few times, and you had grown to enjoy the boys’ company, too.
and beomgyu has stay true to his words about making this summer the best three months break of your life.
“you look pretty already,” aunty sue says behind you as you’re busy fixing the strands of your hair framing your face.
turning to look at her, you pout. “i’m not.”
“beomgyu thinks you are.”
you blush, looking into the mirror to avoid your aunt’s teasing eyes. “i’m done, let’s go.”
“you’re not going with beomgyu?” she asks as the both of you are walking down the hill, a rattan basket in your hand.
“he said he’ll meet me there,” you explain. “he has to help his mom with the bakery booth.”
“ah, right. i forgot about that.”
another new thing you get to experience in this small town is their annual summer festival. aunty sue had told you that the town’s mayor came up with the idea of making the festival around a decade ago
in an attempt to give some sort of entertainment for the kids and teenagers, and also the adults, in the town during the season. it was a great success the first year it was being held — with more than
thirty booths of various foods and games. hence, why the summer festival has become the town’s annual event now.
as you reach the festival’s venue which is being held by the beach, you see soobin and yeonjun chattering at a booth near the entrance. you hand aunty sue the basket before excusing yourself to talk to the boys.
“yeonjun! soobin!” you call out, running up towards them. “oooh, y/n! you look so cute!” soobin exclaims excitedly as you stop in front of him. “but not as cute as choi odi, though.”
“choi odi?” you question and the boy nods “my pet.”
“a cat?”
“no, a hedgehog.”
you grimace — what’s with this group of friends and their weird animals as pet?
“what? you don’t think hedgehogs are cute?” he asks.
no, they look like rat — is what you wanted to say but you don’t have the heart to voice those words out from the look soobin is giving you. “yeah, they are… not bad.” you say before moving your gaze
away from him.
yeonjun notices the way your eyes are scanning around for the familiar mob of brown hair in the sea of visitors, and he chuckles. “his booth is on the other side,” he says. “want us to show you the way?”
your cheeks flushed from being caught but you thank him, anyways. “it’s okay, i’ll go by myself. i’ll see you guys later, then!” you say, walking away from them while waving.
you were about to walk around, trying to find his mom’s bakery booth when you hear your phone’s notification inside your bag. pulling it out, you smile as you read the name of the sender.
beomgyu: where u at, pretty girl? i saw your aunt but not you.
you quickly type in your reply.
you: i’m at a cotton candy stall near the entrance, omw to find u
beomgyu: stay there. i’ll go to u.
after waiting for a while, you spot him walking over to you — dressed in a white button up shirt, tucked inside his black jeans. hair slightly dishevelled from the ocean breeze. he has a smile across his face as
he keeps coming closer to where you’re waiting for him.
even in the sea of people, choi beomgyu is the only one that caught your eyes. you could be in a big ballroom of a masquerade party and the only one that has your attention is still choi beomgyu — there’s
just something about him that you can’t seem to explain that make you only look at him and him only.
you look up to him when he stops in front of you, the smile from earlier getting wider. “hi, pretty.” he says before his hand reaches up to your face, tugging the strands of hair behind your ear neatly. this
has been a little habit of his that he really loves doing whenever he sees your hair getting on your face — never once have you told him that you purposely let those strands untied.
“the firework show will be at 8pm, so we will have around,” he checks his phone, “hour and half to walk around. what do you want to do?”
“you’re not helping your mom’s booth?”
“my brother is here, so he’ll be helping mom for today.” he says, peeking to the stall behind you. “wanna try the cotton candy?”
there is already a line of children waiting for their turns to get the sweet treats in various shapes —heart, bunny, flower, and even a unicorn. when it reaches your turn, beomgyu asks you what shape
you would like for your candy, and you eagerly point at the bear on the menu sheet.
“here’s your order, mr. lover boy.” the man says, handing the stick of the bear-shaped cotton candy to beomgyu. “enjoy your time here, lovebirds.”
“we’re not-…”
“thank you, we will.” taking the candy from the man, beomgyu put his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from the line.
you look up at him, blush evident on your cheeks. why didn’t he deny the man earlier? lovebirds? love, really? “beomgyu, why didn’t you-..” you pause mid-sentence when he hands you the cotton candy.
looking up at him, then down to the cotton candy that is still in his hand, then up to him again and down to the candy again, you let out a laugh.
he furrows his eyebrow questioningly, “what so funny?”
taking out your phone, you open the camera app. “stand still.”
he complies, standing still with the cotton candy in hand all the while you’re giggling and snapping multiple pictures of him. “are you done?” he whines.
you show him the photo on your phone screen, swiping right to let him see the rest of his pictures you’ve taken. “the bear looks just like you!”
“is it funny to you?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as he tickles your side. you squirm in his hold, laughing harder. “it is, because it looks exactly like you- ah! beomgyu, stop tickling me!”
he holds onto the stick of the cotton candy tighter as his other arm is still wrapped around your waist. beomgyu has always known of how beautiful you look when you smile and laugh, but, oh god. right
now, where you’re laughing to your heart’s content, in his arm, dressed in the loveliest white summer dress he has ever seen, with the warm glow of the sun slowly setting, he swears nothing else is as
beautiful as you. not even close.
“beomgyu, please stop. i’m going to pee.” you beg, tears from laughing pooling in your eyes. he lets you go slowly before handing the cotton candy to you which you gladly take.
“let’s go,” he says as he takes your free hand in his, pulling you into the gleeful summer festival.
you spent a good hour touring around the festival — eating tanghulu and few other famous street foods. playing random games at the game booths even though you knew they were all rigged, it was
still fun — beomgyu did won you a small teddy bear keychain from the dart game.
you visited your aunt’s stall too, where she’s selling little handcrafted trinkets. you couldn’t ignore the cheeky smile she sent you when she saw the way beomgyu was holding onto your hand.
then, you went to his mom’s booth where you met his brother for the first time. you were kind of expecting the teasing from him, but you didn’t know it would be so bad to the point you had to ask beomgyu for a glass of water, afraid you might suddenly pass out from the excessive blood rush.
it was fun. you don’t think you have experienced this much fun in your life. the last time you felt happy was when you had visited disneyland back when you were ten. with your maid, not with your parents. you don’t think you would have enjoyed it as much if you did go with them.
“we have 10 more minutes before the fireworks show.” beomgyu says as he leans his side against the railing. he had suggested to go up the cliff to have a better view of the firework. you thought it’s going
to be a packed spot but surprisingly there are only three other people there, sitting distance away from where you and beomgyu are standing.
you can feel his stare from the corner of your eyes, making your cheeks flushed. god, is it possible to lose one’s life from immense blushing? if it is, then you’re in a terrible danger.
“have you ever been in love?” he asks suddenly.
at that moment, the only thing you can hear is the loud ringing in your ears. gone the sound of the festive happening down by the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sound
of the people behind you chattering. the sound of beomgyu’s voice.
have you ever been in love?
have you? you want to say no. you want to tell him that you don’t believe in love — that you would rather believe in the existence of a flying elephant rather than believing in love. you want to tell him
there is no such a thing as love in this world. there is no such a thing as sincere love. people love to get what they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents are a living prove of that.
you want to tell him if there is one thing you are so fucking afraid of in this world, it is to love.
you want to tell him that you don’t think love is worth taking the risk, you don’t think it’s worth fighting for. love is not a real thing. you’ve seen so many people from school getting heartbroken over a
breakup with their lover, only to jump into a new relationship a week after that. if love is a real existing thing then, how could you move on so easily like that?
you so badly want to tell him, but no words come out from your mouth as you stare into his sparkling eyes.
“you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he says after sensing the discomfort on your face.
“have you?”
“yeah,” he says, now facing the sea. “i’m in love with a lot of things — my family, my friends, toto, my bicycle.” he says, shifting on his feet, “i love helping my mom in the bakery, i love writing songs even
when no one listens to it. i love this town, no matter how boring it gets sometimes, i still love it.”
“i love summer,” he says as he turns to face you again. “i love summer because it brought you to me.”
you were about to say something to him when you hear the announcement from the speakers that the fireworks will be going off in the count of three.
ignoring the proclamation, you keep your eyes fixated on his. he is staring at you endearingly, a soft smile on his lips as he takes a step closer towards you.
three
he takes another step forward, until the tips of his shoes are meeting yours.
two
he tugs the strands of your hair behind your ear like he usually does, only this time he didn’t put his hand down, keeping it on the soft skin of your cheek. he rests his other hand on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him.
one
he tilts his head, leaning down towards your face before stopping, leaving a small gap as he waits for you to make the next move, an unspoken sign of asking for your permission.
and as the fireworks start shooting in the sky, you stand on your tiptoes. hands resting against his chest as you lean forward, closing the gap in between your lips and his soft ones.
it started off with you gently resting your lips on his, until he starts to pull you closer by your waist — where he deepens the kiss.
it feels magical.
the way his lips are massaging softly against your own, the way his thumb is caressing your cheek in the gentlest manner, the way he tightens his hold on your waist — not hard enough to hurt you but
strong enough to keep you in place, the way his heart is beating so fast under your palm. the way the sky is glowing and shimmering brightly with the non-stop fireworks.
he is magical.
it’s not like you have ever kissed a boy before but the way beomgyu is kissing you with so much care, with so much affection, so endearingly, with so much love — you know the kiss is perfect. you just know it is.
because you don’t need a flawless kiss for it to feel complete, all you need is choi beomgyu to be the one kissing you.
to you, choi beomgyu is the epitome of perfection.
the ringing of your phone wakes you up from your deep sleep. reaching over to the vibrating device on the nightstand, you pick up the call without checking the caller id.
“hello?” you say, voice hoarse.
“y/n?” shoot, it’s your mom. “are you still sleeping?”
“uh, yeah. i just… woke up.” you sit up on your bed, eyeing the clock on the wall – 12:04pm. if there is one thing your mom hates, it would be tardiness — in anything, including the time you wake up from
sleep.
“i slept really late last night,” in which you did. after the summer festival, and the whole kissing thing, beomgyu had walked you home. not forgetting to give you another kiss, which felt more like a peck,
before he left. and you had stayed up until almost four in the morning replaying that particular scene on the cliff over and over again in your head.
you hear your mom sighs from the other end, “how you been doing there?”
oh, that’s new.
“it’s been okay,” you twirl the end of your blanket. “aunty sue is a very war-…”
“listen, y/n. i’m kind of busy right now. i just called to remind you about your leave after the summer break.”
and that is when reality hits you.
“your dad thought it would be a good idea if you come home this weekend. to make early preparations.”
shit. how could you forget?
“i’ll send a driver to pick you up this sunday,” she says, and you can hear rustling from her end, “i gotta go.”
when the line goes off, you remain holding your phone against your ear.
how can you get forget? did you forget because you’re too busy having fun here? did you forget because you finally found something, or rather, someone to share your happiness with? did you forget
that you’re only here temporarily, to take a breather from the crowded city? did you forget that you’re not supposed to be attached to anyone?
you’re leaving. you’re leaving the country in september. you’re leaving for a university on the other side of the world. you’re leaving your home. you’re leaving this town.
you’re leaving beomgyu.
beomgyu.
these past months, you have been engulfing yourself too much into whatever temporary fantasy he had created for you. you were so into it that you started to brush away all of your beliefs that have
been your pillar your whole life. you were so blinded by the happiness he had brought you that you started making an exception for him.
and for the first time in two months, for the first time since you have arrived in this small town with an ocean view, for the first time since you met the boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky — you want to be anywhere but here.
you know you’re being a jerk to beomgyu — ignoring his calls and text messages, lying to him about coming down with a fever, forcing aunty sue to make up whatever excuses she could think of
whenever the boy stopped by to catch a glimpse of you, pretending to be sleeping whenever you saw him standing under the lamppost outside of the house at night.
you’re being irrelevant and you know that better than anyone else. but you can’t find any other way to explain to him about everything — you’re not ready and you don’t know how to. you know he’s in
love with you, and maybe, just maybe, you do harbour the same feeling for him as well — but you're in denial.
love does not exist.
that’s what you’ve been telling yourself every day.
you’re going back home tomorrow, and you have successfully avoided beomgyu up until this point. until aunty sue had to (almost) beg on her knees asking you to deliver an official government letter to
the choi’s place. she had come down with a summer fever herself, making you feel bad if you refuse to help.
and that’s how you find yourself inside the the bakery’s kitchen that saturday afternoon, a brown envelope in hand. you are glad it is saturday — meaning beomgyu is not around as he always spends
the day at taehyun’s place.
you peek around the kitchen, no one in sight. there’s no one behind the register in the bakery too. is the shop closed?
you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, turning around with the envelope still in hand, “mrs. choi, aunty sue asked me to-…”
you blink, hands coming down to your sides.
leaving the brown paper on top of the counter, you were about to make an escape before you feel his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back to him.
“y/n,”
“let me go,” you say under your breath.
he pushes you against the wall, trapping your body. “are you okay?”
out of all the things he could be saying to you right now, he’s asking you if you’re okay? out of all the mean things he could be spitting to you right now for ignoring him without explanation, the words
that came out from his mouth are those of endearment.
you avoid his eyes, afraid that you might break if you catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. “i’m fine.”
“then why have you been ignoring me?”
“i wasn’t feeling well.”
“then, that means you’re not okay.” he says softly, “look at me, y/n.”
you look up at him, tears pooling your eyes. “why are you being so difficult?!” you didn’t mean to scream in his face, but at this point, your brain has lose control — your body moving according to your
heart.
beomgyu is taken aback by your sudden outburst, “what?”
“why are you making it a big deal that i’m not talking or hanging out with you anymore?”
“how am i supposed to not make it a big deal when the person i’m in love with is pushing me away?” there, he said it.
“love?” you say, while trying your hardest to keep your tears from falling. “there is no such a thing as love in this world, beomgyu.”
“are you saying my feelings for you are invalid? of course, there is. there’s love everywhere in this world.”
“no, there’s none!” you scream again, “how can you fall in love with someone within, what? two months? that’s unrealistic, beomgyu.”
“you don’t need years to fall in love with someone, y/n. you can be by someone’s side for decades, shares one roof, sits at the same dinner table and sleeps on the same bed for years and years onwards
but if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.” he raises his voice slightly.
you finally let your tears fall as images of your parents cross your mind — of how unhappy they are with each other, of how their eyes never hold any kind of affection for one another. they have been
married for almost two decades now — live under the same roof, eat at the same dinner table, sleep on the same bed, wear the same silver bands around their ring fingers – but the love was never there. it’s never going to be there.
if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.
they are the reason why you’re acting the way you are now.
"i don’t need years to fall in love with you, y/n.” he wipes the tears on your cheek gently, “the moment i saw you that one summer afternoon, i knew i was falling head over heels for you.” he pauses,
searching for your eyes. “i knew that i’m in love with you.”
“tell me, y/n… did i do anything wrong? is it the kiss?” he asks, “i’m sorry i stepped over my boundaries.”
“it’s not the kiss,” you whisper.
“then? what’s bothering you, baby?”
more tears come out of your eyes at the nickname, “this whole thing,” you gesture to him and you, “you know it’s not going to last, right?”
he shakes his head, “no, i know you’re going to back to the city after the break, but we’ll make it work. it’s not even that far. you know people do anything for their loved ones, right?”
you take a deep breath, before wailing loudly, not caring about anything anymore. “you’re not gonna love me anymore after i leave, beomgyu. and i’m not talking about going back to the city. i’m leaving the country soon, to the other side of the world, for four fucking years, choi beomgyu!”
“i’ll wait for you, i promise.”
“no one is that stupid enough to wait for someone for that long. why take the risk of waiting years for someone? what if i suddenly came back with a boyfriend, or a fiancé?”
“you worth all the risk in the world, y/n.”
“why are you making things difficult for me?” you push him off of you before you make a run for the door. you continue running up the hill, tears still spilling out your eyes.
you stop, looking back to where you came running from. he doesn’t come chasing after you.
and a part of you wish that he did.
“is this the last one?” your driver asks as he loads the last of your luggage into the car’s boot.
you nod, thanking him to which he replies with a nod of his head. turning to face your aunt, you take her hand in yours. “thank you for taking care of me in the past two months.”
she smiles, rubbing on the back of your hand with her thumb. “are you sure you don’t want to see him first?”
you shake your head and the woman just nods hers before pulling you into a hug. it’s warm. she has always been warm, ever since the first time she picked you up at the train station. she has treated you
like nothing less than a family member, though you and her are very distant relatives.
“i’ll miss you.”
“i’ll miss you too, honey.” she caresses your hair. “come back soon, hm?”
you nod, moving away from her warm hold. “bye, aunty sue.”
as the car drives past the familiar bakery, you look down to your lap, droplets of tears wetting the thin fabric of your skirt.
and just like that, your temporary happiness ends.
the leaves start to wilt, slowly turning brown as the season transition from summer to autumn. the temperature getting colder and colder as each day passed by. no more scorching sun, no more clear
blue sky, no more children running around by the beach.
he stands on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. nothing much has changed since three years ago — except some parts of the railing has awfully broken down. honestly, he prefers it that way — the town not
changing. the way the town looks boring to an outsider, but actually holds a lot of hidden wonders.
the town holds a lot of dear memories to him. this is the town he has grown up in, the town that taught him all the life lessons that made him the person he is today, the town that brought him a girl
that he could never forget, even in his next life.
he looks over to the sea. if he swims far enough, would he reach the other side of the world? to where you are right now?
three years.
it has been three years since he last heard anything from you. it’s not like he didn’t try reaching out to you, he did, multiple times. he tried calling your phone, only to be greeted with the same bot telling
him that the number is no longer in service. he tried looking up for your social media — facebook, instagram, anything. but nothing ever came up with your name aside from a profile website of your
family, a picture of fifteen years old you under the words ‘daughter of a successful businessman and the uprising fashion designer’. he thought you look adorable in the picture, despite the lack of life in
your eyes.
three years went by and you still haven’t come back.
three years and all he could think about every day is you.
you, you, you.
his friends have been telling him to just let it go, telling him it was just a summer fling, telling him it’s time for him to move on, to go meet new people in college.
but he didn’t. he knows what is worth it in his life — you are worth the wait, the risk, everything.
he tugs his hands inside the pocket of his coat, the air is getting so chilly despite it being only september.
“thought i would find you here,”
he turns his head so fast as he hears the familiar voice, he thought he might get a whiplash from it. but as he stares at the figure standing across from him, he thinks he is experiencing more than a whiplash right now.
there you are, standing five feet apart from him. he roams his eyes over your smiling face, and he wonders how is it possible for someone to be this beautiful. you look different from the last time he
saw you, in a good way.
your hair is slightly shorter compared to three years ago, you have lost the baby fats on your cheeks too, making your cheekbones stand out when you smile, and your eyes, they no longer look like the one he saw on the last day he saw you, or in the picture from the internet. your eyes are filled with life now, sparkling under the grey sky of the autumn morning.
“i went to your mom’s bakery but you weren’t around. figured you would be-…” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as the man takes a long stride towards you before pulling you into his arms.
he holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing your nose against the base of his neck while his other hand is wrapped around your waist.
he still smells the same — a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters.
even in a different season, he still smells like summer.
you wrap your arms around him, “sorry i took too long.”
shaking his head, he wraps his arm tighter around you figure — afraid that you might suddenly evaporate into thin air, and this is just another night dream of his. “no, thank you for coming back.”
“thank you, too. for waiting for me.”
he pulls you away from his neck, staring deep into your eyes. “i promised i would wait for you, didn’t i?”
you nod, smiling up at him happily. you notice how he had grown few inches since the last time you saw him that one afternoon in the back of his mom’s bakery, from the way your neck is straining so
much looking up at him. his hair is no longer the deep shade of brown anymore, it's ash grey now.
he leans down, tilting his head as he nudges your nose with his — waiting for you to close the distance between his lips and yours, just like what he did that one summer night, in this exact same spot.
and as you finally rest your lips upon his — you think about how choi beomgyu is worth all the risk that you’ve took. the arguments with your parents because they kept opposing the idea of you dating a
nameless boy from a small town, the cramped semesters because you wanted to cut one semester off so you can come back to him a year sooner, the longing and aching feeling for him you got whenever
your friends in university talk about their partners. at the end, there were all worth it.
choi beomgyu is worth it.
you are still a firm believer of love does not exist. it’s hard to get rid of that idea when you’ve been sticking to it almost all of your life. and given that your parents’ eyes still lack of love and affection for
each other even after being married for a whole two decades now, it’s impossible to accept that there is love out there for everyone.
but to you; love exists in a form of a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky, and that is all that matters to you.
and to choi beomgyu; even under the cloudy and gloomy autumn morning sky, with wilted leaves dancing around in the air with the wind, with the temperature getting colder and colder as day passed
by, it feels like summer to him — because it doesn’t matter where he is, or what season it is, whenever he’s with you, it feels like summer.
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Happy Home | G. Satoru
Desc: Suguru gives Satoru a little push to jog his memory
Cw: MANGA SPOILERS UP TO 237, Fem!Reader, Childhood Friends, Angst???, Slight Torture :>, BITTERSWEET, fluff, reunion,
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Satoru Gojo
wc: 2051
“Now come this way.” Suguru says, standing up from his seat.
Satoru raises an eyebrow, curious as to what his friend wants him to do. He finds himself shooting up a little bit too aggressively, something very light, unharmful if you will, hitting his upper chest. It’s cold, possibly metal, and he digs inside of his uniform to find a necklace around he neck.
Now he’s confused, because in high school, he had never worn a necklace.
Two rings were attached to the chain, and it was clear that it was carefully crafted. The jewel embedded in it was a blue matching his eyes. He blinked carefully, inspecting it.
Now, he felt as though something was missing.
“We’ll be back. Meet us there!” Suguru shouts with a wave to the rest if their friends, placing his hand on Satoru’s shoulder as he guides him through the empty airport’s terminal.
“Where the hell are we going?” Satoru asks.
Suguru snorts, rolling his eyes at his friend while muttering under his breath,
“So annoying…” licking his lips, he continues, “We’re going to find something.”
And with that, Suguru opens a door.
“What the fuck?” Satoru says, stopping outside of the open door. Suguru is inside of the room— can he even call it a room?
It’s a completely different location. Bright and sunny, a tall green hedge, and a familiar dirt path.
Suguru waves him to come, and after a long mental debate, Satoru gives in. He trudges inside with a slouch, blinking as he tries to figure out how he knows this place.
From the beginning of the path, in the distance on this exact cloudless day, Satoru has a memory of this exact setting.
And he’s watching the memory as an outsider. A young Satoru, no older than five, is holding the hand of a girl, the same age as his younger self. He breathes out, watching himself and the girl pass. The girl’s face is blank, but her yellow backpack was oh-so familiar.
His heart thumped, watching her turn back, and suddenly, the blank face turned into someone.
She stared back curiously, like someone was there but she couldn't see them. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and chubby cheeks puffed. But, for a split second he could have sworn she smiled.
Her face goes blank once more, but she’s no longer facing him. She’s facing the little Satoru who’s smiling brightly at her.
Suguru stands back at the door, his arms crossed as he nods his head back towards the door. Satoru feels like a robot, nodding wordlessly as he steps back in without question. His eyebrows are furrowed, clearly lost in thought.
In the same hall, Suguru walks down, standing in front of another door.
“Wait. Wait… before you open that up again, are you sure this isn’t a dream?” Satoru asks almost sweetly, fluttering his eyelashes like a fool at his best friend.
He deadpans, fed up with the white haired male.
Suguru swiftly opens the door and shoves his friend in, only for the infinity user to be met with a pit.
Screaming as he free falls down the dark depth, he eventually lands. Falling onto his back with a grunt, he turns to the side only to be met with a girl. She seems older now. Her body shakes as she gives a long laugh, the wind tousling her hair.
That familiar, annoying laughter is buzzing in his ear. And there he sees himself, identical to himself now, freefalling besides him.
He can’t hear the conversation between his other self and the girl, no matter if he strains his ears.
He stares at her once more, and he begins to realize that he knows her. He truly knows her.
It’s you.
Suguru’s rainbow scaled dragon lunges down, catching Satoru and taking him back to the door.
“Anything?”
“Yeah…” he breathes out. Suguru’s eyebrows shoot upward, excited that Satoru will finally remem—
“That was the girl we saw earlier!”
Suguru bites his tongue hard. His hand grips Satoru’s shoulder again, directing him to another door. “Okay, really look at her.” Suguru tells him. Satoru nods eagerly, this time he opens the door himself, and he’s slightly shocked.
Literally. Like electricity zaps him at his fingertips.
He pulls his hand away quickly, wincing before glaring at his friend while he shakes the stinging limb out.
“Whoops, forgot you couldn't do that.”
“The hell?”
“My bad,” he snickers, opening the door and smiling as he points him into the room.
The setting of this room is dimmer.
“Satoru, remember that these are just memories.”
Satoru is sitting at the table, chairs on the opposite ends but not on the side he is facing.
A woman with blindfolds his tied to the chair. Clearly bruised and beaten, her arms are tied with rope, rubbing her skin raw.
“Gojo Satoru,” the person commanded.
You lazily shook your head, your hair dry with your own blood. “We’ve got all day.” The man in front if you says calmly.
Your lips are chapped, dry and cracked with blood.
Satoru doesn’t realize he even turned his Cursed Technique on, not even knowing it was possible to turn it on in the after life.
His eyes gleam blue, and though your head is hung low, you can feel it.
Feel him.
You smirk, mumbling incantations that irritate the men in front of the table.
Suguru’s hand catches Satoru’s collar, and he’s instantly pulled back into the hallway of the terminal.
Satoru is laying down on the cold floor, staring up into the light hanging above him. Not even realizing he’s crying, he glances at Suguru.
“Where is she?”
Suguru sighs, showing him a small smile before ushering him up.
“It’s a long walk—”
“I don’t care.”
Suguru chuckles, “You never change do you?”
The last room in the hallway. All the way at the end.
Satoru had come to notice every door was different, but familiar. From your childhood, the doors were all the same, and on the opposite side were his own. He comes to realize that the memories were all your own. And his were across yours.
Suguru stops in front of the door, hands in his pockets. “Open it.”
Satoru analyzes his face, looking for even a hint of lies but he finds nothing. His hand shakily goes up to the knob, twisting it until it clicks open.
It’s a home.
The front door to a home. It’s bright, and there's distant humming. He looks at his hands, and they’re larger than he remembers. Sweatpants and a white t-shirt instead of his uniform on his body.
He looks around the home, and realizes this was the one the two of you designed years ago. When he turns around, Suguru is right behind him, older as well. He almost laughs.
“Dude, what the hell is going on?”
Suguru says nothing, pushing Satoru from the house door towards the living room, which left a completely open space in the kitchen.
There you are.
Leaning into the oven, at the table sat Megumi and Tsumiki, but the two were facing you. Your hair up, and it looks like you had just woken up.
You were laughing at something Tsumiki said, and when you turn around— oh he wishes he could capture this memory in a glass, watch it over and over.
“S–atoru?” You stammer, dropping the spatula you were holding.
He smiles, watching Tsumiki and Megumi look over their shoulders. They freeze, and surprisingly, Tsumiki is the first up.
Megumi stays seated, one hand on the table, one holding the edge of his chair.
He wants to get up, but he’s frozen. Megumi’s body was responsible for taking his life after all. You haven't moved either, watching Satoru embrace Tsumiki tightly, leaning to the ground as the children are in their younger years. He stands up, arm on Tsumiki’s shoulder as he starts walking to Megumi.
Slow steps, slow and steady, then, when the chair goes flying, Megumi is all over him. He’s suddenly 15, then 13, then 10, then 7, and now a first grader again.
He’s crying, holding Satoru’s cotton shirt in balls in his fists, wailing. “Dad!” He repeats in shaky cries, hiding his head in the crook of his neck.
Satoru picks him up, holding him and taking Tsumiki in his other arm. He’s hunched to the floor, his hands holding their heads close to his neck.
You’re watching the scene, still unmoving. Finally, you take a small, hesitant step towards the three.
Satoru immediately looks up, and his eyes shine in a way you’d see when he’s staring at kikufuku. “Satoru,” you whisper, shaking your head to bat the forming tears away.
You smile, tilting your head at him. “What do you want for breakfast?”
He chuckles, almost sadly. “You know, the usual.”
You gather your strength and walk to him, kneeling down and pecking him on his lips. Your forehead rests on his own, your eyes are closed as you greet, “Welcome home.”
Now he’s the one laughing, not even realizing he's crying he continues to laugh.
He calls your name out brokenly, and Tsumiki and Megumi slowly release themselves from his grip.
While crouching, he clumsily embraces you, causing you both to fall on the floor. His large hand is on your cheek, eyes closed while he whispers, “I’m so sorry for forgetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry..” he cries.
You’re smiling, reaching up to his face to wipe his tears. “You're alright, you're alright.” You tell him, but he continues. “I’m sorry...”
You lift yourself up from your laying position, taking him with you. “Satoru, you’re alright now. No more apologizing,” you chastised playfully, pinching his nose.
“That’ll get you nowhere. Let’s just think about now.” Now you’re smiling, “And now, I’m making breakfast, so let’s get you seated at the table,” With a kiss to his cheek, you lift him off the floor. Holding his hand you lead him to the table.
Megumi and Tsumiki are seated at the table as well, back at their seats.
You feel like laughing when you see all their puffy eyes and red faces.
You turn to the door and raise an eyebrow. Your legs take you to the entrance and you swing it open.
“Suguru, come in,” you tell him, and he glances around.
You reach your hand out, and when you do, the barrier causes your arm to have your uniform.
Pulling him in he stumbles, your hands on his shoulders as you push him to the seat next to Satoru.
Suguru blinks at him before laughing hard. “You all look like you got stung by bees!” He chortles while pointing childishly.
“Pft—!”
Satoru slams the table, pointing at his friend accusing, “Shut up, Suguru!”
You walk back into the kitchen and finish cooking.
By the time you turned around, the table was filled with everyone that you knew in your life.
Kuroi, Riko, Yaga, Kento, Haibara.
You felt your eyes watering, and after taking a quick inhale, you smiled, taking the plates to the table. “Help yourselves.” You told them, sitting at your own seat. The head of the table, next to Megumi and Satoru.
This was perfect.
This was home.
Satoru grabbed your hand that rested closest to him and smiled. “You came just in time.” You chuckled, Megumi’s feet swinging in his chair, Tsumiki nibbling on a waffle from her fork.
Suguru was with his girls, Nanako and Mimiko, wiping their faces. Haibara was talking enthusiastically with Yaga, who only seemed to nod as he attempted to follow along with the talkative man.
Nanami sat quietly, per usual, but he too seemed happy.
You bent your head down, and rested your other hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair.
His cheeks puffed up, but he didn't push you off like he normally would. He stayed, until Tsumiki started teasing him.
“Are you going to eat, Satoru?”
“Yeah,” Megumi starts, poking his plate with his fork, his head hung down as he continues, “Are you gonna eat, Dad?”
Anyone could see the steam escaping the boy's face, but he was making an effort. His ears glowed a bright pink.
Satoru felt his heart swell. He picks up a fork, watching you slide a waffle to his plate.
“I will,
Thank you for the meal."
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