#high school in a nutshell | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cbeargyu · 26 days ago

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𝙉𝙀𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 ― 𝑗. 𝑗𝑎𝑒ℎ𝑦𝑢𝑛

summary: after you tell a lie, there's no turning back, y/n doesn't know what to do now that she told the whole frat that she slept with the best boxer in college: jung jaehyun.

pairing: college boxer!jaehyun x student afab!reader

genre: strangers to friends w/ benefits to lovers, smut, angst (y/n is such a fool), college life.

wc: 27,4k

warnings: this fic is slightly inspired in manhwa peach sorbet. humor, cursing, breeding kink, fingering, blowjob, kissing, sex scenes in a nutshell💀, smoking, alcohol.

part ii here.

playlist: ✧ need to know ; doja cat ✧ tio ; zayn ✧ entertainer ; zayn ✧ common ; zayn ✧ rear view ; zayn ✧ you wish you knew ; zayn ✧ swim ; chase atlantic

notes: i hope you enjoy it and sorry for my bad english T-T english isn't my first language so pls forgive me if i had some grammar errors bc i'm still learning😁🙏 and yeah i love zayn 😭

“being a virgin in high school isn’t a big deal, y/n” that’s what your friend, kang saeran said, at that moment she was a virgin as well, but once both of you graduated, she slept with her boyfriend. damn liar. you thought because nowadays you were in your sophomore year in college and still nothing of action.

yeah, you had some boyfriends in the past, but never took the next step and had sex, maybe because you were afraid or because you thought that you wanted to be a virgin until you got married to the man you loved… how wrong you were.

none of your childhood friends went to the same college as you. that feels like starting from zero again. as a birthday present, your parents rented a small room for you close to the college, so you can become more independent and have your own space and avoid all the troubles with the roomies at the college sorority.

at some point, you were excited, because you started to imagine all the privacy you would have and that meant one thing; have sex whenever you like. but the sad reality was other, you were always busy with school tasks and barely had time to hang out with friends, also add that you just went on some dates but nothing else. It’s like men weren’t interested in you in a sexual way, even in a romantic way. but, come on! you were pretty, funny, and have great music taste, what the hell is wrong with them then?

“when did you lose your virginity, y/n?” you almost choked with your bubble tea when jinsol asked that without any filter, as if it were anything at all, maybe it was for her, but you… damn, you were a fucking virgin as hell.

“perhaps she’s a virgin” jungeun mutters and giggled, you gave her a dirty look.

“shut up, and nope, i’m not a virgin.” you lied, staring at your friend with confidence in your eyes, you thought your performance was too good because both girls looked at you expectantly for you to continue with your revelation. “was with my ex-boyfriend from high school, we had sex after the graduation party, on the couch at his parents' house” jinsol frowned and jungeun couldn't help but let out a laugh, although she tried to cover her mouth when jinsol nudged her, sorry, she said biting her lips as if she was avoiding at all costs not to laugh at you.

“wow… too much information if i can tell…” it was what jinsol said, on the inside, you were dying of shame, why should you have stuck your tongue out and said that? besides, you were unintentionally exposing how kang saeran lost her virginity. at least they didn't know her, so the ethics can be screwed if they want to.

“well… it’s the first time i've told you this so… i’m sorry if it sounds weird to you”

“it did” jungeun mocked of you once again.

“bitch, you’re starting to piss me off” you pointed your finger at jungeun in a threatening manner, maybe you were getting defensive, but you had to protect your secret from now on. "why don't you tell us how you lost your virginity?"

since then, you and your friends have talked little to nothing about her active sex life at the moment. now and then, jungeun tells them that she will go on a date with some random dude on tinder and won't return to the sorority until the next day. she doesn't care about the sanctions she receives. jinsol is a beauty in the social science department and most of the guys have a huge crush on her, however, she recently started dating qian kun, an exchange boy in the music department, while you, well, you are in good health and doing well in your studies.

summer days are coming and that means summer vacations, you could return to your parent’s house or maybe apply for a job near the college. today was friday and your first class started at 9:30 am, it's still early so you decided to make a little stop at Starbucks on your way to the college. you ordered the usual; iced mocha. you took a seat near the window while checking your instagram feed, behind you were sitting some girls from the same department as you, you recognized one of them as park sooyoung, one of the college goddesses, she was barely wearing makeup and still looked too beautiful, her lips were pigmented in a strong red that stood out with her milky skin. she was laughing with her friends, you didn't avoid paying attention to the other's conversation when you heard the word sex.

“is he really as good as they said? i heard he can last up to five rounds in bed”

“it was spectacular, have you heard that phrase that says “he would makes you see stars”? well, it was like that” sooyoung covered both cheeks realizing the blush that was appearing on her face. the other girls squealed and congratulated her.

“i heard about a rumor going around the frat that said that if you sleep with him, it’s 100% sure you’ll cum within five minutes” they squealed again and sooyoung kept nodding.

what you didn’t understand was, who the fuck are they talking about? thousands of images came to your mind, trying to give shape to the man they were describing, how prominent or spectacular he must be to have such abilities as if he were a god or something.

“i’m telling you girls, having sex with the leader of the boxing club was the best thing i could have done, besides, i would like to go out on a date with him, he’s not only good in bed, he’s also very attractive, at least i want to see him once again” that was what sooyoung said with a smile on her face, everything about her seemed to glow, is that the result of a good fuck?

you thought about the boxing club- you didn’t even know there was a boxing club at the college, to begin with, let alone know who the leader is, but he must be someone good-looking as the rumors said. you didn’t give the matter any more thought and headed to the college, straight to your first class.

but your mind wouldn’t leave you alone and started to imagine all the possible faces and bodies that could be assimilated by someone handsome knows how to fuck and who, undoubtedly, must have a good body because he’s a boxer. you wish for a moment you hadn’t listened to that conversation that had nothing to do with you. oh, you did. in the end, you would regret it, because that night, your friends would invite you to a frat party to celebrate the arrival of summer and when you had too much alcohol in your system, the others decided it was a great idea to play “truth or dare” with an empty soju bottle that was there.

it was the turn of taeyong from the psychology department to turn the bottle, at this point you felt too dizzy, however, you knew how to hide it very well, next to you was jinsol, who was muttering something that you couldn’t understand well, maybe she was saying you to go to sleep or go to the restroom to vomit.

you opened your eyes in surprise when the tip of the bottle pointed at you, taeyong’s corners rose wickedly, and everyone was waiting expectantly for his question, you knew he would say something stupid as was common, something silly to make fun of you. but, even in this state, you weren’t going to allow it.

“who was the last person you had sex with?” that felt like a bucket of cold water on you, everyone laughed at the question, as direct and blatant as lee taeyong.

“what kind of question is that, hyung? we were asking about our kinks” jungwoo tapped taeyong’s shoulder in a friendly manner as if he could feel the tension in the air from the question.

and the thing is, you hadn’t done anything wrong to taeyong to make him dislike you like that, you just refused to go on a date with him because he wasn’t your type and he kept bragging about how he had slept with all the girls in the department.

“what’s wrong? you won’t answer? of course! your only last time must have been when you lost your virginity on your in-laws’ couch, or so jungeun said” taeyong let out a cruel-sounding laugh, everyone was completely silent, he was starting to cross the line.

you quickly looked at jungeun, the only one capable of telling taeyong that, she was choking on her beer when taeyong revealed that. “i swear i didn’t tell him everything!” was her only excuse as she wiped it off the beer with the back of her hand. the feeling of disappointment and humiliation was starting to rise in your chest.

the others tried to defuse the heated moment, taeyong looked at you with victory in his eyes, as if he had achieved his goal. but you were too stubborn to leave it at that, so you firmly answered his question:

“since you are so interested to know, i slept with…” your mind was not thinking clearly, you barely knew how to formulate an understandable sentence, you looked around and felt that long minutes passed, and taeyong staring at you coldly with his jaw clenched and arms crossed over his chest denoting the annoyance.

“a member of the… boxing club” damn you and your damn obsession with using someone else’s testimonials to pass them off as your own.

everyone’s eyes widened, what you had said was unheard of, and the questions of who it is were not long in coming.

your gaze inadvertently fell on jungwoo, who was snacking on some of the fries on his left side. “jung…” you barely mumbled.

“jung?!” minkyung shouted out of nowhere as if she had hit the person you were talking about, but you just were inventing everything, wasn’t it? “you’re talking about jung Jaehyun?! oh my god, that man is so hot! you were keeping that secret well, y/n!” now all the girls were screaming around you, except jungeun and jinsol, who were looking at you dumbfounded. jinsol reacted quickly and congratulated you, although she didn’t know why she was doing it.

jung… who?

“are you… serious?” taeyong asked in a low voice, incredulous at your words. but when you nodded firmly, he licked his lips, thinking about how he could take more advantage of this situation. “well since you are so close to jaehyun, why don’t we invite him?” everyone innocently supported taeyong’s plan, as if they wanted to bring a couple together, but taeyong’s intentions were different. you bit your lips, holding in the anger that this motherfucker was provoking in you.

“do whatever you want, lee” when taeyong started to type jaehyun’s number on his phone, your heart started to race, you began to sweat and you didn’t know if it was the effects of alcohol or if you were just going to pass out from anxiety. taeyong had a nice conversation on the phone, it seemed that jaehyun was training and didn’t want to leave it just for a stupid party, as he said.

“come on, bro! we have a special guest here, i’m sure you want to see her” everyone started cheering. the line was silent until jaehyun said he would be here soon. fuck, he was just making things difficult.

the minutes went on forever and internally you wished he wouldn’t come through, but you could not chicken out, now you had to face thing as it was, also you had to figure out how you would keep your reputation after this, the most difficult thing was that you didn’t know jaehyun’s personality, apparently he is close to taeyong, what if he is just like him? you would certainly be done.

you heard the guests shouting as they announced jaehyun’s arrival, and you barely heard a deep voice complaining about making him come to a party in the middle of the night, you swallowed hard, and suddenly, the descriptions given by the girls at starbucks started to run through your head again.

god damn.

you were in big trouble.

no.

in a huge problem.

you were sitting on the ground when the huge figure of jung jaehyun landed in front of you, he frowned when you looked up to see him, god damn, his face was so beautiful, or maybe you were too drunk, but you looked into his dark eyes and you almost swore you were reflected in them.

his hair was falling over his face, he was wearing a loose sleeveless shirt showing his worked arms, his skin shone a bit, it must be the sweat from the training he was doing, underneath he only had black shorts revealing his strong legs, shit, you began to feel hot on your face from looking at him intensely.

damn, when you said you fucked someone from the boxing club you didn't expect they would bring a real person here just because you threw in a random name.

"hyung! why didn't you tell us that it was you who took away y/n's purity!” lee donghyuck put his arm around jaehyun's neck, but he didn't flinch. he just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to understand what was going on, but without being too obvious.

"shut up haechan! didn't you hear that taeyong said that y/n lost her virginity a long time ago?" donghyuck was pushed by heejin, causing jaehyun to wriggle out of his grasp.

you could only close your eyes and swallow your shame, shit, how you wish you weren't there right now.

"why did you never tell us about this, y/n!" minkyung nudged you, very cheerful in her drunken state, but she only managed to plunge you further into embarrassment. the worst thing was that jaehyun looked annoyed with each passing minute.

"i didn't know you had high standards, y/n, it's amazing to know that jaehyun gave you a chance in his bed" when taeyong said that, something in you snapped, any hope of pride gone.

“h-hey jaehyun, I thought we'd never see each other again…” you said, completely nervous and shaking.

“must be a coincidence, y/n”

jaehyun gave you a smile that managed to send a chill through your whole body, even more so because of the tone he used when he said your name as if he had tasted it from his mouth before letting it out.

without warning, jaehyun wrapped you in his arms in a warm hug and it denoted a lot of confidence, but your body was rigid, you could barely react. the others yelled obscenities like go get to a room, but you only paid attention to what jaehyun whispered in your ear.

"okay, you will ask everyone to excuse you, but you have to leave with me, did you get it?"

as an automatic reaction you nodded, and once jaehyun separated from you his aura changed completely, now he smiled and his eyes turned half moons, two tender dimples appeared on his cheeks and you could look at his face for the first time with a dazzling smile from him.

“okay guys, thanks for inviting me, but i have to go, jaehyun will walk me home-”

"wow, you guys are going to fuck!" minhyung yelled out of nowhere, jinsol gave him a death glare and he gulped, realizing his mistake. "oh, I mean, they'll just walk home, yeah," he cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

in an act of trust, you took jahyun's hand and intertwined it with yours, although the boy's body tensed, he hid it quite well, both of you left the building and the walk became awkward, neither of you was able to say anything while you moved away from the gaze of others, but you didn’t let go of each other's hands either. before going out into the dark, you noticed how jaehyun's knuckles were worn, and bruised with recent reddish wounds.

you led the way home without saying a word, the route was usually seven minutes, but this time you felt that your home was ten miles from the fraternity. once in front of the door of your home, you swallowed saliva, preparing yourself mentally and physically for the reverence in search of forgiveness from you and all the next generations.

“did you say that... you and I met and that... we had sex?” the slowness of his words was painful and humiliating, you stopped your walk, but you weren't able to turn to face jaehyun.

“please forgive me, i was too drunk, i know it's not an excuse, but at that moment... i just said the first thing that came to my mind, i didn't expect that there was someone with the name jung in the boxing club. i'm sorry, i got you involved in this lie, but if my friends and the whole frat find out i lied i’m all done, the truth is… i'm still a virgin, i've never slept with anyone and-...” you started talking so fast that jaehyun could barely understand everything you said, he chuckled because your speech was so random jaehyun didn't know how to feel right now, maybe used or just like a idiot that ruined your lie for being called jung and join the boxing club.

jaehyun was silent for a few moments, however, that was not uncomfortable, it was more like he understood your situation, even though you had dragged him into your lies, he listened to you carefully.

“if you want, i’ll say it didn’t happen” jaehyun whispered, bright darkness appeared in his eyes and his lips curved up in a strange smirk, he took a hand out of his pockets and brought it closer to your face, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb, you didn't know if it was you or him who was burning in the heat. “but where’s the fun in that?”

the softness with which he caressed your cheek was intoxicating, due to the closeness you could smell his cologne and a faint of sweat, but it wasn't a bad thing for you in those moments, it felt so raw and intimate, god, you were in front of a real man. instinctively, you brought your face closer to him, tilting your head to try to reach him and you even stood on your toes, this only made jaehyun giggle, who saw it as something cute of you, there was no doubt that you were completely virgin.

with parted lips you asked for jaehyun to kiss you, so desperate for his touch and wondering what his saliva tastes like, your thoughts were rising as you felt jaehyun's breath on your face. and as if jaehyun read your thoughts, he kissed you slowly, you could only move your head to give him better access, your hands ended up on his chest where they squeezed his shirt hard and jaehyun's other hand landed on your neck, pushing you towards him.

his kiss increased when without warning, jaehyun pushed his tongue into your mouth, first licking your lower lip and then going all the way in, at first you were surprised, but it didn't take long for you to reciprocate and keep up with him. a heat was present in your crotch, and hot gasps left your mouth that was barely silenced by jung jaehyun's wild and intoxicating kisses.

god, you didn't want to stop, but the lack of oxygen was present in both of you, managing to separate for a few moments, jaehyun stared at you and you did too, it was as if his eyes were calling you to keep kissing him and how obedient a girl you were, you pushed your lips to his again, this time leading the rhythm and placing your arms around his neck, stroking with your fingertips the fade of his hair and the tips of his ears.

this time you felt jaehyun's hands slightly climb up your hips until they slipped under your blouse, you gasped at the contact of his cold hands touching your warm skin, at this moment you were letting yourself be carried away by hormones, you were not thinking correctly with your head, but you didn't care, you wanted to rub yourself against jaehyun's body to relieve the burning sensation in your crotch.

suddenly, the sound of a call coming in made you jump. jaehyun patted his front pocket and took his cell phone out, it was none other than lee taeyong, you rolled your eyes without jaehyun seeing you and he took the call.

"we're in front of her house, yah... calm down, i'm about to go back to the frat, we won't do anything tonight..." his words made your heart skip a beat, your cheeks turned redder than you thought they were already after the hot kissing session. jaehyun was going along with your lie and that was so... sneaky.

"i have to go, i don't want to have another penalty for leaving the rooms late" jaehyun took a deep breath and put both hands in his pockets as he watched you slowly search for the keys. you were kind of disappointed that it all ended like this tonight, being interrupted by that motherfucker.

"okay then, see you around...?" he said, with some doubt in his voice, you looked up and noticed a sparkle in his eyes. hope. as if it were a romantic movie, you dropped everything you had in your hands and you kiss his lips, a short and pure kiss, but full of feelings and desire, jaehyun could barely flinch because you quickly separated, when you turned embarrassed, a smile already decorated her reddish lips.

"thank you jaehyun"

"why do you thank me?"

"just because of everything..." you smile shyly, alcohol does have a strong effect on you. "see you later" you assured and that made jaehyun feel safe. your word was everything. soon you would see each other again.

a week later, you hadn't seen jaehyun near the college, even though you didn't want to be so obvious looking around for him, you always kept an eye on the crowd when you were walking around campus.

finally, the only thing you know about him is that he belongs to the boxing club, nothing else.

also, you don't know where the boxing club is.

would it be weird for you to ask for the location?

the uncomfortable questions from the people who attended the party that friday were all around you but ceased on tuesday when that topic was no longer new.

jinsol recommended you not see jaehyun anymore, when you questioned her why she simply said "there are many rumors around him, i don't want that to involve you" even though you tried to understand her, the word rumors, were very ambiguous; what other rumors will exist around Jung Jaehyun besides the ones you heard in the cafeteria?

otherwise, jungeun sent you a lot of messages apologizing to you for telling taeyong about your "closeness" and that she didn't expect you to have fucked jaehyun. well, it was a lie, but only he and you knew that.

you stopped thinking about everything that had happened in the last few days and focused on the strong pain you felt in your neck, it must be the stress, you thought. although the summer vacations were approaching and with it the end of the semester, you felt a bit pressured with the exams and final deliveries, yesterday you did nothing but study and now these were the results. you fondled the painful part and let out a small moan.

taking classes on saturdays, having body pain and the extreme heat was the perfect recipe to alter your mood, even though you were wearing a light button-down shirt and shorts you felt the sticky feeling on your skin beginning to upset you.

you decided to stop at starbuck's to buy something cold, as soon as you arrived at the establishment the air system greeted you, thank heavens the place was not so crowded and there were some empty tables, you thought if it would be a good idea to sit down for a bit to check the essay you were about to submit next week.

"hello welcome, may i take your order?"

"hi, i'd like a venti ice americano, please-"

"two venti ice americano, please."

you were interrupted when someone taller than you, perched on your right. it was none other than jung jaehyun, smiling warmly at the cafe worker with those beautiful dimples, you were dumbfounded, the woman typed the computer and confirmed the order, jaehyun in one brisk movement, pulled out the cash ready to pay for you.

"my treat, okay?" he said, how was it possible that he did everything so naturally? you could barely say anything, you merely mumbled a slight thank you, but he looked so comfortable around you that you didn't know what to do.

when your coffees were delivered, you sat down at a table in the back. strangely, you felt like a girl on her first date of a lifetime, your heart was pounding hard against your chest and your hands were sweating, no matter how hard you tried to wipe them against the fabric of your shorts it wasn't enough.

"thanks for the coffee, jaehyun" was all you managed to say, he squeaked and took a sip of his coffee.

"it's nothing" he shrugged his shoulders downplaying it, he shook his hair and you noticed light beads of sweat, surely he came from training or something. also, you saw that the wounds from his fists were still there, but not only that… the veins on his arm and hands were too marked, that image was so hot. you had never had any fixation with people's hands, but seeing jaehyun's hands made you change your mind and you couldn't think of them touching you, around your neck or on your… "y/n?" you jumped in place when you heard him call out to you. "are you okay? it seems your mind is occupied with something else" he recited as if he could read your thoughts, you swallowed saliva and quickly denied.

"it's not that, it's just… i'm a little stressed from school these days, i've barely been able to rest properly" your hand caressed the back of your neck, massaging it lightly. jaehyun's eyes carefully followed your every move without you noticing.

"i can tell, I've heard that the finance department is very strict and stern, isn't it?" wait a minute, how does he know which department you belong to? hearing that threw you off a bit and you couldn't help but ask him.

"how do you know I'm in the finance department?" jaehyun smiled as if he had been caught.

"well, i've heard a lot about you."

it only took a second for your face to change color. what could he have heard about you? you wanted to ask, but your throat closed up in that moment. you felt your body tremble from the thoughts growing in your mind. why was jaehyun suddenly so interested in you? was it because of the lie, perhaps? jaehyun might have noticed the change in your expression and let out a small laugh. that was all it took for all the embarrassment to drain from your body, making the atmosphere lighter and allowing your muscles to relax. without meaning to, you smiled too.

you realized how easy it was to talk to him. despite his attractive appearance, anyone would think he would be the typical arrogant guy for being part of a sports club and sleeping with many girls, but jung jaehyun was the complete opposite.

you kept bumping into things as your drink slowly dwindled, leaving only the ice cubes in sight. even though the conversation flowed naturally, you both knew you were skirting around the main issue, avoiding the heart of the matter. if only you hadn't been interrupted yesterday—what would have happened? would jaehyun have slept with you? so many questions, and a mix of fear about knowing the answers.

"do you mind if I walk you home? It's getting late" jaehyun suggested, swirling his glass in the air, causing the ice cubes to clink from side to side. you glanced at your own glass, now empty. you had both lost track of time. when jaehyun stood up, a strange feeling hit your stomach, and without thinking, you bit your lip. your house was close by, so you decided to play it cool and go along with whatever random topic he’d start talking about next.

on the way home, you couldn't stop thinking about what to do. would it be too cold to just walk inside and act like nothing’s happening? would it be too much to ask him to come inside with you? would he think you're too easy? you weren’t sure of the answers to the flood of questions swirling in your mind, but one thing was certain—you both felt the sexual tension. even when your shoulders brushed against each other, you could feel electricity shoot through your body with every tiny touch. jaehyun seemed calm, or at least that’s the image he was trying to project.

once you stood in front of your apartment door, jaehyun spoke: "I really enjoyed the conversation. rest well, y/n" jaehyun slipped his hands into his pockets and gave you a small, lopsided smile. "I hope next time we meet, you don’t act like a stranger." you parted your lips, searching for the right words. his face seemed like it was waiting for something more.

are you waiting for something more? you thought. it was hard to say goodbye now, and without hesitating, you said:

"hey, jaehyun, it’s saturday and it’s still early. why don’t you come in?" you rubbed your arm, trying to calm yourself, as your heart raced a mile a minute. the seconds you waited for his response felt like years. jaehyun's smile widened, and he nodded.

you opened the door and felt the warmth of your home welcoming you, while inside, your mind was spinning. I invited him. I actually did it. in reality, it was the first time you had brought a guy over—someone of the opposite sex, someone you were interested in.

and you were interested in him in the most sexual way possible.

"thanks for inviting me" jaehyun said with a grateful smile, showing off his adorable dimples. you weren’t sure if it was the whole situation, but even that innocent gesture sent a wave of heat through your body, especially between your legs. quickly, you took off your hoodie and tied your hair into a ponytail.

"it's been really hot today. do you mind if I take a quick shower?" you asked, waving your hands as if trying to cool yourself down. jaehyun raised an eyebrow, curious.

"go ahead, I’ll wait," he said, sitting down on the small sofa in your living room. you could feel two things pulsing: your heart and your vagina.

suddenly, the mood shifted, as your movements became a bit clumsy—like when you accidentally kicked the edge of the dining table, causing you to curse under your breath. when jaehyun moved closer to help, you quickly pushed his chest away. "I’m fine!" you repeated, not looking him in the eye.

"if it feels awkward, wouldn’t it be better if I leave?" jaehyun's voice was calm, trying to understand you. it was more than obvious that you were feeling uneasy about everything that had happened between the two of you, and he understood why the situation suddenly felt weird.

"n-no!" you quickly said, looking at him with concern. jaehyun stepped a little closer. "you don’t want to... do that?" your cheeks turned pink, and your gaze dropped to your feet, feeling truly embarrassed. jaehyun let out a small chuckle, realizing that, in fact, you were a complete virgin, acting like a high school girl.

"what’s so funny?" your cheeks puffed up, feeling both embarrassed and a little annoyed at the thought that jaehyun might be making fun of you.

"nothing, you’re just really cute,’ he said, lifting your chin to lock eyes with you. you could see the confidence in his gaze while you were a bundle of nerves and anxiety. "you’re really beautiful, y/n" his free hand now took yours, which was smaller than his, and that only turned jaehyun on even more. slowly, he walked back to the sofa and sat down, leaving you standing in front of him, your chest right in his view. "in any case, there’s no need to shower... you’re going to sweat again anyway." your face flushed even more, fully grasping the double meaning of his words, but your body jolted slightly as you felt jaehyun’s warm hands slide under your shirt, moving up to reveal your breasts, pushing your bra out of the way. you had to admit, the sight of jaehyun massaging your breasts was undeniably hot.

you were lost in his soft and exciting touch that you didn't notice when jaehyun caught your left nipple between his lips, the hot and wet sensation of his tongue making you gasp. the man's hands slid over your waist, pulling you closer to him, you were so fucking horny.

a new sensation made you jump as jaehyun grabbed the other nipple with his fingertips, rubbing it. you felt wetter and wetter, weaker and weaker, and if it weren't for jaehyun's strong arm holding you, you might have fallen at any moment.

you don't know how much time passed, but jaehyun switched to your other nipple, and you could see how the left one was shining with saliva and swollen... an image that made you even wetter and feel incredibly hot.

"let's go to bed" in an instant, he pulled your soft flesh out of his mouth, looking at you with lust-filled eyes, his lips swollen and shiny with saliva. though you were a little dizzy with excitement, you hadn’t realized how far things had gone. you were about to head to your bed—then what would happen?

before you knew it, you were already lying on your bed with jaehyun on top of you. you watched as he took off his shirt, revealing his well-toned body, worthy of someone who belonged to the boxing club. he tossed the shirt somewhere in the room and leaned down to kiss your lips with hunger and desire. obscene sounds escaped from his mouth, gasps and moans filling the room.

jaehyun's fingers reached your panties, pulling them aside to finally touch your most intimate place, and you opened your eyes in surprise.

‘it's really wet down here,’ he said with a smile on his face, slowly caressing you. his fingers slid over your flesh, from your clitoris to your labia. why did it feel so good? despite the intense sensation, you felt embarrassed, covering your face with both hands. ‘are you sure you've never done this before?’ jaehyun asked with a grin, as his fingers stroked you up and down."

“I told you that I have never—AGH!’ you couldn’t even finish the sentence because something entered your body. jaehyun had inserted one of his long fingers, which quickly began to move in and out. it was your first time, and the sensation was strange and a little painful; your face contorted and your body stiffened. you were so tight that it hurt, but soon your moans turned into pleasurable groans. was this the power of jung jaehyun that all the girls talked about? the feeling of someone else doing it was truly different; you would never have reached this level of excitement on your own. jaehyun added another finger, and the wet sounds echoed even more in the room. without warning, a knot formed in your stomach, and you knew something was about to happen, so you quickly grabbed jaehyun’s wrist, trying to stop him. “w-wait, ah! I f-feel... I feel something coming...’” as soon as you finished the sentence, a clear stream shot out, soaking the pink sheets of your bed. you let out a sweet moan that made jaehyun doubly hard. you closed your eyes, recovering from the incredible orgasm you had just experienced. when you opened them, you saw jaehyun’s proud expression and a large puddle in your crotch—again, the wet sheets. “but what the—! I just washed them this week!” you almost started crying because washing sheets is the worst. jaehyun just giggled. before you knew it, he was unzipping his pants and...

what he released from between his legs was not something ordinary. come on, you had never seen one in person, but this was nothing like what you had seen in porn pages or the images that strangers sent to your message inbox. this was simply huge in every sense of the word. how was it possible that it could fit inside you? the tip was pink, and veins started from the base of his abdomen, wrapping around it. it looked quite hard, and you could barely appreciate it before he began to roll a condom over it. where had he gotten it? who knows, but you couldn't stop thinking about the size. “what’s wrong, y/n?” obviously, your reaction had thrilled him, feeding his ego. “do you think it won’t fit?” one corner of his lips curled into a sly smile.

"are you challenging me? of course, bring it on!’ you said, feeling confident because y/n wasn't just any girl; you were a competitive girl, and this was nothing. you knew it would hurt at first, yes, but your hunger for sex was stronger, and you were sure that soon you would have that chunk of meat buried deep in your wet pussy.

"I like confident girls" jaehyun said, leaning his face closer to yours and licking his lips with lust as he took your legs, positioning himself between them. once he was nestled between you, he ran his hands over your captivating body. first, he gently took your shoulders, caressing them from top to bottom, then he traced his warm tongue along your neck, sending shivers throughout your body—especially in your swollen pussy. afterward, he massaged your breasts, which weren’t particularly big, and sometimes you felt insecure about that. however, seeing how perfectly they fit in jaehyun's hands made you feel so sexy. did jaehyun think the same?

how was it possible for him to be so good at this? his touch quickly left you weak and dizzy. was it because he had had a lot of sex before? that was clear; he was handsome, had a great body, and above all, he was well-endowed down there. no girl could resist.

"I’m going to put it in" he leaned closer to your face, and you felt his warm breath. that’s when you realized that what was about to enter you was something big, hard, and thick. maybe you shouldn’t have challenged him like that. perhaps just a little, you were starting to fear that the process would be too painful.

you clung to his arms as he slowly slid inside you. he caressed your cheek and whispered, "relax, don’t tense your body too much"

it was easy for him to say that, as he wasn’t the one being penetrated. however, he was incredibly gentle, even when he was fully inside you, your body stiffened. your head tilted back as you breathed quickly, trying to adjust to what had been inserted into you for the first time. "I won’t move until you feel ready, okay?" his nose brushed against yours in a compassionate gesture, and even that filled your heart. small tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, and it was jaehyun who gently wiped them away. "you’re doing so well, y/n."

despite the pain that ran through your body, your mind was focused on the pleasure that the situation was giving you: jaehyun’s naked body on top of you, jaehyun inside you, jaehyun with a blush on his face, jaehyun having sex with you. it was the only thing you could think about, and it only made you wetter. little by little, the pain faded, and suddenly you were begging him in a voice that betrayed your surrender, asking jaehyun to move.

then, the hard and fast thrusts came without hesitation. you could only focus on how your breasts bounced and how barely you could hold back your gasps of pleasure. jaehyun looked satisfied, seeing the sheer thrill on your face. you couldn’t think straight; you could barely keep your eyes open, and you weren’t sure how much longer you’d last, as you were getting wetter with each movement.

‘wow, you’re really soaked,’ jaehyun commented with a grin on his face, almost as if he were mocking your state. you didn’t even care; instead, you pulled him closer, clinging tightly to his body.

suddenly, your phone started ringing—someone was calling you. it was so unexpected, and jaehyun seemed to care about it as he paused and asked, ‘you should probably answer that.’ but before he could even reach for the phone, you grabbed his hand and guided it to your breast, whispering softly, ‘don’t stop, please,’ while biting your lip. you were close, you could feel it, and whoever was calling could go to hell right now.

this made jaehyun even more turned on. for a moment, he didn’t know how to react, but as your legs wrapped around him again, he could only smirk, proud of his bedroom skills, enough to have the ex-virgin begging him not to stop. he knew you were enchanting, but he didn’t know just how much. so, he grabbed your waist, lifting it to penetrate you deeper and faster. this technique made your moans even louder, filled with pure excitement. combined with the sounds of skin slapping, the creak of the bed, and jaehyun’s gasps, it all created a unique melody in the room.

“oh, i'm going to cum...” jaehyun warned as his movements became harder against your body, you felt the pounding hit hard against your hips and how his fingers were marked on your waist painfully, but all this combined only brought you closer to climax too and from one moment to the next you were untying the knot in your stomach through a sweet orgasm, giving a squeal as a result. jaehyun took off the full condom and looked at you on the bed, trying to catch your breath, your legs quivering with pleasure and your nipples still erect. there was no choice but to take another condom. “ready for round two?” he whispered in your ear.

although, you were processing how good your first time having sex had been, you didn't think you were completely ready for a second round, however, you couldn't resist against jaehyun, and without thinking, you ended up sweaty and exhausted after 4 more rounds.

it had been two weeks since that night with jaehyun—two long, chaotic weeks where everything seemed to fall apart piece by piece. a fire had broken out in an apartment two floors above yours, thick smoke swallowing the hallways, alarms screaming through the building. even though your place hadn't been damaged, the inspectors had evacuated everyone to assess the structure. you'd bounced from couch to couch, staying with friends for a night or two at most, but their living situations were tight—shared sorority houses, cramped apartments, boyfriends already occupying the only free space. now, you sat alone on a bench across from the university, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly through your contacts, desperate for someone, anyone, to call. going back to your mother’s place wasn’t an option—you knew the arguments would start the second you walked through the door. you craved your independence, even if it meant being homeless for a few days. the problem was, you didn’t have the money for a hotel. not even close.

you look at jaehyun's contact for a second, you stop to think if it would be a good idea to call him, I mean, you barely know each other, you slept together once, would that be enough of an excuse for him to let you live with him for a while?

you don’t know what to expect when he answers. you’re clutching your phone like it might slip out of your hand from how fast your pulse is racing. and now, with your apartment unlivable, your options reduced to zero, you’re doing the last thing you wanted—calling him.

it rings. once. twice.

then you hear his voice, smooth and casual like nothing’s changed.

“hey. y/n?”

you swallow thickly, your voice trembling despite how much you try to sound fine.

“hi. i know it’s… late. and random. and maybe you don’t want to hear from me, but i didn’t know who else to call.”

there’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable. it’s quiet, like he’s listening closely.

“what’s wrong?”

you sigh, eyes stinging as the reality settles deeper into your chest.

“there was a fire in my building. the apartment above mine is completely destroyed, and the structure’s unsafe. they told me i can’t stay there. i don’t really… have anywhere to go right now.”

another pause. this one longer. you brace yourself for something like damn, that sucks or hope you figure it out.

instead, he says softly, “i’m at the pool hall with a couple of friends. you can come. we’ll talk here.”

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just whisper, “okay. send me the location.”

you arrive about thirty minutes later. the place is half-lit, old wooden floors scuffed from years of dragging chairs and boots, the smell of beer and smoke embedded into the walls. the second you step in, you spot him—jaehyun, in a black t-shirt that clings to his shoulders and jeans that do too much justice to his thighs. he’s bent over a table, lining up a shot, lips parted slightly in concentration. he looks good. too good.

when he notices you, his face relaxes. his body straightens. no hesitation.

he waves you over. “you made it.”

you nod, offering a small smile. “hi.”

“guys, this is y/n,” he says, turning to the two men beside him. “yuta, taeyong.”

they both greet you, yuta with a mischievous glint in his eye and taeyong with something a little softer. polite, but unmistakably curious.

“nice to meet you,” yuta says, and you catch his eyes flicker down your outfit—tight jeans, fitted top, just casual enough to not scream i dressed up for someone, but still enough to make their jaws subtly tighten.

jaehyun sees it. you feel it in the way he stands a little closer to you.

“chill,” he tells them, easy but pointed. “she’s way out of your league.”

they laugh, pretending like they weren’t staring, and jaehyun turns back to you.

“want a beer?”

“sure.”

he brings one for you without asking what kind. cold glass touches your palm, and his fingers brush yours just a second longer than necessary. he doesn’t mention the call again. doesn’t ask you anything serious. just hands you a stick and nods at the table.

“you play?”

“twice. maybe. terribly.”

he grins. “that’s more than most.”

you play a few turns. he’s good. effortlessly good. you’re not, but you’re trying. then your turn comes up again, and you bend over to line up your shot. you don’t realize how far you’re leaning until you feel it—the air shifts. someone’s watching.

you glance sideways. yuta’s not even trying to hide the way he’s looking.

jaehyun clears his throat, sharp.

“dude. seriously?”

yuta looks away like a scolded child, taeyong biting back a smile.

jaehyun’s voice is low now, just for you. “you might want to bend less, unless you want to start a war.”

you raise a brow, playfully. “they’re just looking.”

“yeah, and i don’t like it.”

he walks around the table, stops behind you. “want help?”

you nod, and he steps close. closer than he needs to. his front presses lightly against your back, firm and warm. he leans down, guiding your arms, his chest flush to you, his breath skating along the shell of your ear.

“hit the green. angle it toward the corner pocket. trust me, you’ll nail it.”

but you’re not listening. not really. not when his hand slides just a little too far down your arm, or when his hips nudge forward, enough to feel him. he’s doing it on purpose. there’s no way he isn’t.

you shift, bump your elbow lightly into his ribs. “you’re kind of all over me. i can’t focus like that.”

he chuckles, stepping back with both hands raised. “my bad. force of habit.”

you shoot. the ball sinks clean.

his voice lights up. “see? you are good.”

you smile despite yourself. “maybe you’re not a terrible coach.”

he high-fives you, fingers curling briefly around yours, and for a while, the game continues. laughter. teasing. another round of beers. the weight between you two loosens just a bit—but never disappears.

eventually, it’s time to leave. the guys stretch and yawn, pretending they aren’t already planning their next stop.

“we were thinking of hitting that new bar on third,” yuta says.

“nah,” jaehyun replies instantly, grabbing his jacket. “i’m taking y/n home.”

taeyong raises a brow but doesn’t argue. “alright. catch you later.”

once outside, the air feels cooler. quieter. you walk in silence for a few blocks, your body relaxing more than you expected. and then he says it.

“so… what happened exactly?”

you exhale, the weight returning. “the apartment above mine caught fire. no one got hurt, but they say the building’s not safe. i can’t go back until it’s inspected and fixed. and all my friends live with their boyfriends, or in places too cramped to take someone in.”

he nods slowly, not pushing.

“you can stay with me,” he says after a beat. “just… not tonight.”

you look up at him, confused. “why not?”

he scratches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.

“my roommate kicked me out for the night. his girlfriend’s coming over, and well… you know.”

you do. you laugh a little, half amused, half exhausted. “so that’s why you were out?”

“yeah. didn’t feel like hearing them fuck through the wall.”

you both fall silent, until he looks to the right. neon lights spill across the sidewalk in pinks and reds. your eyes follow his line of sight.

a motel.

he glances back at you, one brow lifted. “wanna crash there for tonight? i’ll get you a room.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes. please.”

he smiles, soft and genuine this time. “come on, then.”

and for the first time that night, you feel like you might actually sleep without everything collapsing around you.

the motel room was small and stuffy, the thick summer air clinging to your skin the moment you stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, and jaehyun immediately moved to the wall-mounted control, turning on the air conditioner with a low hum that filled the silence. still, it was warm, your skin damp with sweat and exhaustion. you sat on the edge of the bed, waving a hand lazily in front of your face as you tried to cool off, your other hand pushing your hair away from your neck.

“fuck, it’s hot,” you muttered, fingers fumbling with your hair, searching for a hair tie that wasn’t there.

“here,” jaehyun said, tossing something onto the bed beside you. it was a small plastic bag, printed with the motel’s name in red cursive. you opened it, expecting maybe a water bottle or a towel, but instead found a collection of travel-sized soaps, a tiny bottle of shampoo, a mint, two condoms in gold wrappers… and a hair tie. your fingers brushed over it before you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“you know this place too well.”

he scoffed, smirking as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. “maybe you’re just the one who doesn’t know anything.”

his voice held a mocking edge, teasing you like he always did, like he hadn’t fucked you stupid on your own bed two weeks ago and left without so much as a real goodbye.

you reached into the plastic bag and pulled out the small collection of motel goodies, letting your fingers slide over the items until they wrapped around the foil square. it crinkled softly between your fingertips as you held it up, raising your brows as your eyes flicked to him.

“do these even fit you?” you asked, tone playful but low, teasing.

he huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he stepped closer, arms still crossed over his chest.

“not really,” he said. “those are standard size. they don’t fit me right.”

you rolled your eyes, even as your cheeks burned with something you didn’t want to name. reaching back, you tied your hair up with the elastic, then stood up to stretch, pretending not to care that he was watching you.

jaehyun checked his phone and sighed. “i should go. the guys are probably already at the next bar.”

your chest tightened, confusion blooming low and sour in your stomach. you blinked. “you’re leaving?”

“wasn’t the plan to crash here just for you?” he teased, but there was something unreadable in his eyes.

you hesitated, lips parting. you didn’t want to ask him to stay. you didn’t want to sound needy. but the thought of him walking out again, of sleeping alone in a motel bed you hadn’t paid for, filled you with a sudden ache.

“it’s hot as hell out there,” you said, stepping closer. “you should shower. you’ll feel better.”

he arched a brow. “i showered before going out.”

“so what?” you shrugged, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. “i think you should shower again.”

he stared at you for a beat, eyes darkening as the realization clicked into place. “ah,” he murmured, tilting his head. “so that’s what this is.”

your body moved before you could think—crawling up onto the bed, slow and deliberate, your eyes never leaving his. he didn’t move, just watched as you reached him, rising on your knees to press your palms to his chest. his shirt was soft and damp against your fingers. you tilted your face up to his, lips barely brushing his collarbone.

“don’t go,” you whispered. “you’re already here… might as well make it worth it.”

his hand slid to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, lips ghosting over your temple as he muttered, low and sinful, “you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

your heart skipped a beat. you weren’t even trying to hide the way your gaze dropped to the bulge in his pants. his words shouldn’t have made your thighs press together like that, shouldn’t have sent that deep, pulsing warmth down your spine, but fuck—he was so casual about it, so sure of himself, it made your breath hitch. he was already hard. you could see it now. and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

you let the condom fall onto the bed as your hand drifted slowly to the front of his pants, fingers hovering before you made contact. the heat radiating through the fabric was almost unbearable, and when you finally palmed him through it, his jaw flexed. your voice came out soft, a little shaky, but full of intent.

“can i see it?”

his eyes darkened immediately, and he didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you with that unreadable expression that made your stomach twist. then he nodded, slow and sure, backing up and letting himself fall onto the bed. he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion and laid back, propping his hands behind his head, the muscles of his arms flexing, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that made your mouth go dry.

“go ahead,” he murmured, “since you’re so curious.”

his pants were already unbuttoned, boxers peeking out from the waistband. your gaze dropped to the heavy outline straining against the fabric, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for him. it was your first time doing this—your first time touching a guy like this—and you felt nervous, eager, clumsy all at once. you tugged his pants lower until they pooled around his thighs, revealing the thick bulge beneath his briefs.

when you finally pushed those down too, your eyes widened slightly. your hand wrapped around him, a little too firm, and you felt him twitch under your touch.

“not so rough,” he said, his voice low, half-laughing, half-breathless. “be gentle.”

you nodded, swallowing hard, adjusting your grip, your thumb brushing along the tip. the weight and warmth of him in your palm was foreign and overwhelming. your head dipped forward and you kissed him there, soft and uncertain. he sucked in a breath, his abs tightening, his hand still behind his head but his knuckles whitening with the way he gripped the pillow.

you let your tongue trace slowly along the underside, tasting him, feeling him throb with every slow movement. then you wrapped your lips around the head and began to take him in, your hand stroking what you couldn’t fit just yet.

he made a sound—a sharp breath, a curse under his breath—and when you looked up, his face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded with something between shock and desperation.

“am i doing it right?” you asked, pulling back slightly, your lips glossy, your voice soft and unsure.

“fuck, yes,” he groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. “you’re gonna kill me if you keep looking at me like that.”

his hips bucked slightly, involuntary, and you took him deeper this time, slowly, carefully, adjusting to the rhythm, feeling the way his thighs tensed beneath your touch. his breathing grew heavier, his abs flexing with every flick of your tongue, every soft suck, every messy, eager movement. he reached down, fingers threading into your hair, not to guide you, just to anchor himself, as if grounding his sanity with the feeling of you.

“shit, baby—” he moaned, his voice rough now, desperate. “just like that. don’t stop.”

you didn’t. you hollowed your cheeks and moved faster, more confident now, loving the way he twitched on your tongue, the way his composure was crumbling second by second. his fingers tightened in your hair and his thighs trembled slightly.

“fuck, i’m close—” he gasped.

you kept going, feeling his release building, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, and when he finally came with a low, strangled groan, hips jerking, voice broken and raw—he said your name like a plea.

you swallowed, slow and deliberate, licking your lips as you looked up at him. he looked dazed, ruined, beautiful. his chest was heaving, sweat on his brow, his skin flushed.

“jesus,” he whispered, a half-laugh escaping his lips as he finally let go of your hair. “where the hell did you learn to do that?”

you just smiled, your lips still tingling, proud of yourself, of how undone he looked—like you were the only one who had ever touched him like that.

you crawled back up the bed, breath still shallow from everything you had just done, and started peeling your clothes off one by one. your fingers fumbled slightly from how needy you felt, pulling your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without care, followed by your bra, panties, everything that separated your burning skin from his. his eyes were on you the entire time—hungry, intense, reverent. he didn’t say anything, just licked his lips and let his gaze roam across your body like he was starving for it.

“i want to ride you,” you said, voice low, thick with want.

his mouth parted slightly, surprise flickering in his eyes, before he leaned over to grab something from his wallet on the nightstand. “wait,” he murmured, pulling out a foil wrapper—different from the motel ones. thicker, black, and unmistakably his. “these are the ones that actually fit.”

you watched him tear the wrapper open and roll it on effortlessly, his movements confident but still urgent, like he’d been holding himself back just for you. when he was ready, he laid back again, arms slightly outstretched, his eyes locked on yours.

“come here,” he said. “you can ride me now.”

you bit your lip and moved quickly, like you couldn’t bear to wait another second. and you really couldn’t—you’d been on edge for days. the stress, the instability, not knowing where you’d sleep, all of it had pressed down on you like a weight you couldn’t shake. but when you were with him, everything slowed. everything made sense. and right now, you just needed to feel him, to get lost in him.

you straddled his hips, your knees on either side of his thighs, palms pressing against his firm chest. his hands found your waist, warm and steady, as you guided yourself over him. he was so hard, so thick, and as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, you gasped—half from the stretch, half from the overwhelming feeling of finally, finally being this close. his cock filled you inch by inch, making your walls clench around him involuntarily, your breath hitching as you adjusted.

“fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned, brows furrowed, his fingers digging into your skin like he was barely holding on.

your eyes fluttered shut as you took him deeper, until your hips met his and your thighs were trembling from the intensity. you rested your hands on his abs, taking a moment to breathe through it, to feel him throbbing inside you.

“you okay?” he asked, voice softer now, thumb brushing along your hip.

you nodded, leaning down to kiss him, slow and messy. then you began to move—shallow at first, testing the pace, but soon you were rolling your hips, finding a rhythm that made your body light up with fire. every movement dragged delicious friction along your walls, and the way he filled you, stretched you, made you moan softly, needily.

his hands slid up to your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples until they peaked, sensitive and aching. he cupped them both, lifting himself slightly to suck one into his mouth. his tongue was hot and wet, swirling around the sensitive nub while his other hand played with the other breast, squeezing, pinching gently, making your hips grind harder against him.

“god, you feel so good,” he murmured against your skin, lips still wrapped around your nipple, his voice sending vibrations through your chest.

your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as you rode him faster now, the slap of your skin meeting his echoing in the cheap motel room. your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body trembling as the pleasure built. he sucked harder on your breast, then switched to the other, moaning into you like he was addicted to the taste of your skin.

“jaehyun—” you whimpered, grinding down harder, desperate for release. “i’m close…”

“don’t stop,” he said, breathless, one hand sliding down between your bodies to rub tight, fast circles against your clit. “cum for me, baby. let me feel it.”

you cried out, body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you, thighs quivering, cunt pulsing around him in waves that felt endless. he grunted beneath you, lost in the way you clenched around him, hips thrusting up as he chased his own high, until with a deep moan and your name on his lips, he came too—hard, twitching inside you, eyes clenched shut, body taut with release.

you collapsed on top of him, breath tangled with his, both of you sweaty, shaky, completely undone.

after a moment of recovery, limbs tangled and skin damp with sweat, jaehyun pulled you close and pressed a soft kiss against your shoulder.

“we should shower,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky. “it’s hot as hell in here.”

you hummed in agreement, letting him guide you out of the bed. your legs felt like jelly, sore and shaky, but his arm stayed around your waist, grounding you. the bathroom light was harsh, flickering slightly like everything else in that old motel, but the water came out warm and steady. steam quickly filled the small space.

you stepped into the shower first, sighing as the water hit your back, washing away the sweat and lingering stickiness. jaehyun stepped in behind you, his body pressing up against yours, his arms wrapping loosely around your waist. the moment should’ve been calm, domestic, but his hands couldn’t help but wander.

his lips brushed your neck, wet and slow, while his fingers slid up your stomach to cup your breasts again. “couldn’t stop thinking about these,” he whispered, licking a droplet of water from your shoulder.

you tilted your head, letting him kiss you deeper. your back arched instinctively, pressing into him, and you felt his cock hardening against the curve of your ass. “again?” you teased breathlessly.

“you’re too fucking hot not to,” he said, voice rough, before turning you around so your back was against the cold tile. his mouth claimed yours, tongue exploring like he hadn’t just come not long ago. he lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip, and the tip of his cock rubbed against your folds, teasing.

you gasped as he slipped inside again—this time slower, deeper, the water pouring down your bodies as he began to move. the shower was tight, cramped, but that only made it hotter. the sound of skin on skin was drowned by the water, but you could hear him panting in your ear, could feel the way his mouth latched onto your nipple again, his thrusts picking up pace.

you held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, your moans muffled against his neck. it was messy, rushed, passionate. and when you came again, clenching around him, he followed quickly, holding you tight as he spilled inside the condom once more, both of you trembling under the hot spray.

after the shower, you dried off, still breathless, your legs wobbling every time you moved. you collapsed into bed with a sigh, pulling the thin sheet over your body. jaehyun lay beside you for a few minutes, stroking your hair, until sleep started to pull you under.

when you woke up, sunlight was leaking through the curtains, weak and golden. the bed beside you was empty. you blinked against the brightness, groaning at the soreness in your thighs and hips. everything hurt deliciously. you reached for your phone on the nightstand, and saw a message waiting from jaehyun.

had to leave early. training. don’t worry about time, i extended the checkout. i’ll call you when i’m done and take you to my place. there’s food for you on the table. eat, baby.

you sat up, rubbing your eyes and looking around. on the small glass table near the window sat a paper bag from starbucks. you got up, curious, and opened it to find a warm cheese sandwich and your favorite coffee. it made you smile—something about the quiet thoughtfulness of it, after such a dirty night, made your chest feel warm.

later that day, you were sitting on the grass outside campus with your friends—jungeun, jinsol, and sooyoung. the sun was soft and the air carried the scent of spring. they were all staring at you like a pack of wolves, eyes gleaming with barely-concealed curiosity.

“so…” jungeun started, tilting her head, “are you going to keep avoiding our questions, or are you finally going to spill?”

“you kept your secret very well” jinsol added with a smirk. “you disappeared overnight and came back all smiley and glowing. bitch, don’t lie.”

you looked away, sipping your iced tea and trying to play it cool. “we’ve just been hanging out… it’s nothing serious.”

“nothing serious my ass,” sooyoung said, lying on her back and shielding her eyes from the sun. “ you think we don't remember how you got when he arrived at the party?”

you blushed furiously, heart pounding, but tried to keep your tone steady. “i’m not giving you the details. and definitely not about that.”

jinsol groaned. “come on. we just want to know one thing.”

“is his dick as perfect as we imagine?” jungeun whispered dramatically, making everyone laugh.

you covered your face with your hands. “i’m not talking about his dick.”

“that’s not a no,” sooyoung chimed in.

you tried not to laugh, cheeks burning. “we’ve only gone out a couple times. that’s all.”

jinsol leaned in closer. “i think it’s only a matter of time before you two become official. honestly, he seems like he really likes you.”

but sooyoung shook her head. “nah. not yet. she hasn’t gotten over dong sicheng.”

that name hit you like a soft, invisible bruise. you looked down at your drink, lips pressed together.

“he was just… a phase,” you muttered.

sooyoung arched a brow. “a phase you’ve been stuck on for like a year.”

“he never liked me like that anyway,” you said, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice. “i was just his art buddy. his therapist. his background character.”

“yeah, well,” jungeun said gently, “maybe jaehyun’s your plot twist.”

you didn’t reply. but for a moment, you let yourself imagine that possibility. and it didn’t feel so far-fetched.

“actually,” jungeun chimed in, casually tossing a piece of grass into the air, “i heard something about sicheng.”

your head snapped in her direction before you could stop yourself. your heart skipped and thumped oddly in your chest.

“yeah?” you tried to sound indifferent, but the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

“mhm,” she said, glancing at the others. “one of the girls from the art department told me he’s coming back this semester. apparently he finally sorted out his exchange paperwork.”

“guess you’ll be bumping into him again,” sooyoung said, nudging your shoulder with a teasing smirk. “don’t go falling all over him again. please use your brain this time.”

“i didn’t—” you started, but then just sighed. “i know.”

jinsol gave you a knowing look. “well, i hope you don’t fuck it up with jaehyun over some old fantasy. like… jaehyun’s not just hot. he’s actually a good guy.”

sooyoung snorted. “a hot guy with a career path and muscle definition that could resurrect me.”

“he’s not just hot,” jungeun added, more serious. “he’s crazy talented. my brother’s obsessed with local sports and he says jaehyun’s a legend around here. three-time regional boxing champ. undefeated.”

you blinked. “wait, really?”

“mmhmm,” she said. “he’s been competing for like three years straight. he’s got insane discipline. trains daily, eats clean, sleeps early unless he’s too busy fucking you apparently—ow!” she laughed when you slapped her thigh in protest.

but your mind was already conjuring images… jaehyun in the ring, sweat dripping from his brow, his jaw set with sharp focus. his body gleaming under the lights—broad shoulders, cut arms, those tight abs tensing as he dodges, lunges, throws a punch. bruises on his ribs, a scratch near his lip, blood maybe on the edge of his gloves. heat rises to your cheeks as the image lingers—his body slightly damaged but so undeniably alive and powerful, all for something he loves.

he wasn’t just hot. he was dedicated. passionate. and god, he looked good doing it.

sooyoung sighed dramatically beside you. “i want a boyfriend like that. good body. good face. and a dick that ruins lives.”

“jesus christ,” jinsol muttered, snorting into her drink.

“what?” sooyoung shrugged. “i’m just saying. it’s the dream.”

you shook your head, cheeks flushed. “he’s not my boyfriend.”

they all stared at you.

“yet,” jungeun said, grinning.

you looked down at your phone, pretending to be unbothered, but the way your stomach flipped said otherwise.

not your boyfriend. not officially.

but the way he touched you. the way he looked at you like you mattered—like he saw more than just sex.

it made you wonder.

what if he could be?

at sunset, you’re waiting just outside the university gym, sitting on the edge of a planter box as the warm, golden light spills across the campus. the air still holds a trace of the day’s heat, but it's softened now, carried gently by the evening breeze. your phone buzzes in your lap, but you ignore it, eyes focused on the gym entrance.

jaehyun walks out a moment later, his presence like gravity pulling your attention. he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt that clings slightly to his damp skin, khaki shorts that show off his toned legs, and worn white sneakers. his training bag is slung over one shoulder, and droplets of water still trail from the ends of his freshly washed hair. he must’ve taken a quick shower after practice. his smile is soft, those signature dimples showing as he spots you.

“you ready to head to the apartment?” he asks, stopping in front of you. his voice is calm, smooth, like there's no rush.

“yeah, but… before that, i want to take you out to eat,” you say as you stand, brushing your hands over your clothes.

his brows raise slightly in surprise. “why?”

you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “i just… it’s a thank you. for taking me to the motel, for getting me food, for extending the time. and now you’re letting me stay at your place, so…” you trail off, cheeks heating up.

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “you don’t have to do that. it wasn’t a big deal.”

you bite your lip and shrug. “well, it is to me. no guy’s ever treated me like that before, so… i thought it’d be important.”

that seems to catch him off guard. he stares at you for a second longer, then nods. “alright. i’ll let you treat me. but don’t expect me to be easy to impress,” he teases, the corners of his mouth lifting.

you smile, relieved. “what’s your favorite food?”

he thinks for a second, then frowns. “i don’t really have one. i’ve been on a strict diet lately since i’ve got more tournaments coming up.”

your jaw drops slightly. “what do you mean you don’t have a favorite food? come on.”

he chuckles. “i’m serious. everything’s been about protein, greens, hydration… it’s been pretty boring.”

“that’s tragic,” you say with mock seriousness. “you’re in your twenties and you’re telling me you don’t even crave ramen or tteokbokki?”

“okay, fine,” he laughs. “i haven’t had kimbap in forever. does that count?”

you grin. “perfect. i know this place that makes really good kimbap.”

a little while later, you’re both seated at a small table in a cozy street-side diner. the kimbap comes out quickly, warm and fresh, and jaehyun’s eyes light up when he takes the first bite.

“this is really good,” he says with a satisfied sigh.

“you look happy,” you tease, watching the way he leans back in his seat, finally relaxed.

he nods, swallowing. “i am. i’ve got a big fight coming up—i’ll be up against a nationally ranked fighter. if i win, i’ll qualify for the majors.”

your eyes widen. “that’s huge! jaehyun, oh my god, congratulations!”

he rubs the back of his neck, clearly flustered by your excitement. “thanks… i’m trying not to jinx it.”

“you’re gonna crush it. you’re so disciplined and talented—seriously, it’s inspiring.” you smile at him, and it’s completely honest.

he goes quiet for a second, then looks down with a tiny smile of his own. he’s blushing. the tough, cocky boxer—blushing.

“you’re really bad at taking compliments, huh?” you say, laughing gently.

“maybe,” he replies with a grin, nudging your foot under the table. “but i don’t mind it when it’s you.”

you finish eating with that warm, playful tension between you, the kind that always seems to build whenever you’re with him.

you're walking beside jaehyun along the crowded sidewalk, the sun already sinking low, casting an orange glow on the buildings around you. he’s telling you something about a professor at the university who never shows up on time, and you’re half-listening, half-distracted by the soft drip of water from his hair. he smells faintly of soap and cologne, clean and warm. you smile at the way his voice hums, deep and casual.

but then, suddenly—

“jaehyun!” a bright, feminine voice cuts through the air.

before you can even turn, there’s a girl jumping on him—literally throwing her arms around his neck. you blink, startled, and take a step back. jaehyun catches her easily, like it’s nothing, one of his hands settling on her waist, holding her with casual familiarity. his smile grows wider, those pretty dimples showing instantly.

“noona, what are you doing here?” he asks, clearly happy to see her.

“i came to visit some friends,” she says sweetly, brushing her shiny, curled hair behind her ear. her eyes flick down his body like she’s assessing him. “you’ve gotten taller… or maybe just your shoulders?” she teases, reaching out to squeeze his bicep without hesitation.

you feel something twist in your chest. it’s hot and petty, and you know it, but still—you don’t like the way she’s touching him. you don’t like how close they are. how… familiar they are.

is she his girlfriend?

the thought hits you like a slap. no. no way. that would be cruel—after what you and jaehyun did… after he held you and kissed you and let you ride him like you were the only girl in the world.

the girl finally looks at you. her face lights up with surprise and a sly sparkle in her eyes. she's polished—makeup flawless, glossed lips, expensive jewelry. everything about her screams elegance. you suddenly feel plain in comparison.

“oh?” she says, eyeing you. “are you jaehyun’s girlfriend?”

your stomach drops. but at the same time, some part of you feels… relieved. so she isn't his girlfriend.

“ah… she’s…” jaehyun starts slowly, glancing at you, voice uncertain. “she’s my friend.”

“nice to meet you!” she chirps, stepping forward and taking both your hands enthusiastically. “i’m miyeon, jaehyun’s childhood friend.”

“a-ah… i’m y/n. nice to meet you too,” you say, barely holding your voice steady.

miyeon turns back to him with a soft pout. “jaehyun, you should bring y/n to our store sometime. you haven’t visited in so long.”

“i will. soon,” he says, his tone easy, but not committed. she beams and clings to his arm again, pressing against him in a way that makes your skin burn.

after a bit more small talk, she waves goodbye, and you and jaehyun continue walking. you’re quiet. so is he.

the train ride is short, but quiet too. you’re still chewing on the jealousy simmering low in your stomach. you don’t say a word until you’re back on the street again, just a few blocks from his apartment.

“jaehyun,” you say suddenly, stopping in your tracks.

he turns to face you, brows lifted.

you stand still for a second, then open your arms slightly—awkwardly. as if you’re asking for a hug.

he doesn’t hesitate.

jaehyun steps into you and wraps his arms around your body, holding you close. you melt into his chest.

“are you copying my noona?” he teases softly against your hair.

you shake your head lightly, but your cheeks are burning.

he leans back just enough to look into your eyes. “now i really can’t wait to get home,” he says with a grin and a very obvious double meaning.

you scoff and push him back a little, pretending to be annoyed—but you’re not. not really.

jaehyun unlocks the front door with one hand, still carrying his gym bag over his shoulder. he nudges the door open with his foot, letting you step in first. the place smells faintly of laundry detergent and cedarwood. it’s clean but lived-in, with a few scattered training wraps on the floor and a row of protein bottles lined up neatly on a shelf.

“make yourself at home,” he says, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “my roommate, junhoe, isn’t here. he’s probably off fucking his girl somewhere.”

you chuckle, still standing in the entryway.

jaehyun walks ahead, opening a side door. “this is the study,” he says, gesturing. it’s a small room, barely wide enough to fit a desk and some shelves, but there’s a window with good light and it smells like old books. “i can clean it up and maybe get a futon or something in here if you’re staying.”

you nod slowly, looking around, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. he’s leaned in the doorway now, watching you with that lazy, unreadable gaze, the same one he used to look at you that night at the motel—right before you climbed into his lap.

“there’s an extra mattress in my room,” he adds casually, but his mouth quirks up in a smirk that gives him away. “wanna see?”

you raise a brow. “you’re so subtle, jaehyun.”

he laughs, voice low and warm, and then turns on his heel. you follow him down the short hallway to his bedroom. the lights are dimmed, his bed already made, a dark gray comforter spread out neatly. he gestures toward the corner, where a folded mattress leans against the wall. “see? told you.”

but you’re not looking at the mattress.

you’re looking at him.

at the way the veins in his arms stretch as he runs a hand through his damp hair. at the way his shirt clings to the firm lines of his torso. at the faint red bruise just below his jaw—probably from sparring, but it looks like something you'd want to kiss.

“do you want to shower first?” he asks, turning back to you.

you shake your head. "i already showered earlier.”

“true,” he says, stepping closer. “but that was to wash off the sweat.”

“and this one would be to…”

he’s right in front of you now. inches away. his voice drops to a whisper.

“to get dirty again.”

you don’t move. you just look at him, look at the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his eyes flick to your lips. then you reach out, grab the hem of his shirt, and lift it over his head in one slow, steady motion.

jaehyun breathes in sharp and deep as your fingers skim his chest. his body is insane—broad shoulders, thick arms, chest hard as stone and wrapped in smooth golden skin. faint bruises pepper his ribs, evidence of training, and you drag your hands over one without thinking.

“you’re really something else,” you murmur.

“so are you,” he says hoarsely, fingers already at the waistband of your jeans.

clothes come off fast after that.

you fall together onto the mattress, his mouth hungry on yours. he kisses you like he’s starving, hands exploring, groping, dragging down your back. he moans against your lips when you grind your hips down on his thigh, searching for friction.

then he flips you over.

pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other tracing down your stomach, between your legs.

“still wet,” he murmurs. “even though i haven’t touched you in hours.”

“shut up,” you pant, arching your back.

he chuckles and lowers his head. his mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, your breasts—licking, sucking, biting just enough to leave a mark. you cry out when his fingers finally slide between your folds, slick and slow.

“shit, baby,” he whispers. “you feel so fucking good.”

“then stop teasing me,” you groan.

he smirks. “as you wish.”

and then he’s inside you.

thick. hot. stretching you open all over again.

your back bows. his name spills from your lips like a prayer.

he moves slow at first—deep, careful strokes that make you shudder. but then he picks up the pace. harder. faster. his skin slaps against yours, your breath hitching with every thrust. the bed creaks. his grip bruises your hips. and you love it.

“jaehyun—f-fuck—”

“you like that?” he growls, voice wrecked. “you like being fucked like this? like a real good girl?”

you nod, crying out as your orgasm builds.

“i’m close,” you moan, nails digging into his back.

“come for me, baby,” he pants, kissing your lips hard. “i wanna feel you come around me.”

and you do.

it hits you fast, hard, white-hot.

your whole body trembles. he follows right after, gasping your name, burying himself deep inside you with one final thrust.

you lay there for a while, tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin.

his arms wrapped around you.

his lips brushing your forehead.

jaehyun is quiet for a long time after he comes, his chest rising and falling against yours as he tries to steady his breathing.

the room is dim, but you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his arms tighten around you, protective and gentle. he nuzzles into your neck, his lips brushing the damp skin there, not in a sexual way this time—more like he's grounding himself in your presence. you lie there, tangled up in sheets and each other, the only sound being the soft hum of the ceiling fan and your hearts calming down in sync.

he eventually pulls away just enough to look at you, eyes hooded but soft, and his fingers trace down the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “are you okay?” he whispers, voice a little raspy, a little concerned.

you nod, smiling faintly, and reach up to cup his cheek. “yeah. just... full. in every way.”

his lips quirk into a crooked smile and he kisses your forehead. “good.” he stands, stretching just a bit before grabbing a clean towel from a nearby shelf. he wipes you down carefully, not rushing, not skipping a beat. he doesn’t say much during it, but the way he handles you—like you’re something delicate, like this moment matters—says everything you need to hear. afterward, he throws the towel into a laundry basket, slips on a pair of loose sweatpants, and pulls a t-shirt over his head. he brings you one of his shirts, big and worn and soft, and you slip it on before curling back into his bed. he climbs in beside you and pulls the blanket over both of you, spooning you close, one hand resting low on your belly, thumb tracing circles into your skin.

you're just starting to doze off in his arms when the front door creaks open and you both hear the familiar thump of sneakers being kicked off.

“yo,” comes a male voice from the hall. jaehyun groans softly and pulls back just enough to peek out from under the blanket.

“junhoe,” he mutters.

a few seconds later, a tall guy with sharp eyes and dyed ash-blond hair pops his head into the room. he freezes when he sees you in bed, cheeks flushing slightly, but he raises a hand in greeting anyway.

“ah... so you finally brought someone home. what’s up?” he says with a knowing smirk.

“shut up,” jaehyun groans.

you sit up slowly, pulling the blanket around yourself as you nod politely. “hi…”

“nice to meet you,” junhoe says. “don’t worry, i’m cool with it. just—maybe not when my girlfriend comes over. she gets… ideas.”

“no problem,” jaehyun replies casually. “i already told her about the study room.”

junhoe raises an eyebrow. “you’re letting her stay here?”

jaehyun just shrugs with that same smirk. “i don’t mind.”

junhoe glances between the two of you and chuckles. “cool. well, i'm grabbing some food and crashing. welcome to the apartment.”

he disappears down the hall and jaehyun flops back down next to you, draping his arm over your waist again. “that went better than i expected.”

“he seems nice,” you murmur, cheek resting against his chest.

jaehyun hums in agreement, and the two of you drift off again—safe, warm, and maybe just a little too comfortable in each other’s arms.

a few days later, you’re at campus, carrying a stack of large framed canvases and a bundle of messy supplies balanced precariously in your arms. you’re on your way to return everything to the storage room after a long morning in the art studio, still wearing a paint-stained hoodie and some old jeans. your focus is on not dropping anything when suddenly, someone rounds the corner at the same time as you—and crashes right into you.

“whoa—shit, sorry!” says a familiar voice as the both of you stumble. your brushes clatter to the ground, but strong arms steady you, grabbing your shoulders gently.

you look up—and your breath catches.

dong sicheng.

he’s smiling, wide and bright, and for a second you almost forget how to speak. his hair is longer now, a little shaggier, his features more defined. he’s still beautiful, unfairly so, but the braces he used to have are gone, replaced by a dazzling, smooth smile. he’s wearing a soft beige sweater and dark slacks, looking expensive in that effortless way he always did. he bends down immediately, helping you pick up your supplies.

“y/n?” he says, looking genuinely happy. “wow—it’s really you”.

“i thought you were on a break?” your voice barely left your mouth.

“i was. but i came back early,” he replies, smiling.

you forcing a smile even though something tugs hard at your chest. “and you… you look great, sicheng.”

he blushes a little, brushing some hair behind his ear. “so do you,” he says, kind as ever. “it’s really good to see you.”

you nod, trying not to let your emotions show. because what are you supposed to say? i missed you. i thought about you more than i should’ve. i wondered what might’ve happened if i’d just said something back then.

but you never did.

and now he’s here, standing in front of you with that same kind warmth in his eyes, and you feel it—nostalgia, longing, something bittersweet blooming in your chest.

you chat for a while, catching up on classes and schedules, and he insists on helping you carry the rest of your things to the storage room. you smile and joke like nothing's off. like you’re not thinking about all the things you never said. because what would be the point now?

still, as he walks beside you, close and careful not to bump your paintings again, you can’t help but glance over at him—at the smile, at the way the sun catches the curve of his jaw.

and you wonder if part of your heart still belongs to him. just a little.

after helping you carry the last of your things to the storage room, sicheng stretches his arms with a quiet sigh and then turns to you with that soft little smile you remember all too well. “hey,” he says, voice gentle, “do you have time for a coffee? i don’t have class until later and… it’d be nice to talk more.”

you hesitate only a second before nodding. “sure. i’d like that.”

you end up at a small café just off campus, tucked between an old bookstore and a flower shop. it’s quiet, the kind of place that smells like roasted beans and cinnamon, with soft music playing through slightly scratchy speakers. you sit by the window, sunlight pouring in and making his hair glow like spun gold. he leans forward on the table, hands wrapped around a cup of matcha, listening to you as you ramble a little about your classes, your projects, the endless deadlines. it feels easy. too easy. almost like the last year never happened.

eventually, curiosity gets the best of you. you glance at him between sips of your drink, then lower your cup and ask, trying to sound casual, “have you been seeing anyone lately?”

he blinks, surprised for a moment. then that smile returns—slow, knowing, maybe even a little amused. “no,” he says. “this year’s been… intense. i’ve been at the dance academy full time, and trying to sort out all the paperwork to get back here took everything out of me.” he shrugs, rolling his cup between his palms. “didn’t leave much space for dating.”

you nod, trying to hide how fast your heart is beating.

“besides,” he adds, his gaze locking onto yours, “there was no one in china who really caught my attention.”

his words hit you in the chest, knocking the air out of your lungs in a way that doesn’t hurt but leaves you speechless. it’s not just what he says—it’s the way he says it, the way his eyes hold yours like he’s daring you to admit something, like he’s just waiting for you to fall into the trap he’s carefully set with his smile and his calm.

you clear your throat. “well… me neither,” you say softly. “no dating. i’ve been really focused on school and, i guess… there’s no one who really stands out to me either.”

he raises his eyebrows a little, his lips curling as if to say “really?” but he doesn’t push. instead, he changes the subject with a soft laugh. “i need to cut my hair soon. i’ve been meaning to, but with everything going on i haven’t had time to rest, let alone make an appointment.”

you hum in agreement, letting your eyes drift over his face, the softness in his features, the way his lashes catch the light.

“but i’m really glad we got to catch up today,” he says, brushing a thumb over the rim of his cup. “i missed this. i missed talking to you. i hope we get to take some classes together this term—maybe even work on a project again. like the old days.”

your heart skips. not in a dramatic, crashing way, but in a quiet flutter that you try not to show on your face. you smile instead, nodding, and say, “yeah. me too.”

the walk back to jaehyun’s place is a blur. your body’s moving through the city, but your mind’s still in that café, replaying the way sicheng looked at you, the calm certainty in his voice, the not-so-innocent way he said there was no one who caught his eye. you keep wondering—was he just being nice? was he flirting? was it real? it shouldn’t matter, not after everything with jaehyun, not when you’ve already crossed that line with someone else… but your heart doesn’t care about timing, or logic, or consequences. it only knows the warm ache of “what if.”

you don’t even realize you’ve arrived until you hear jaehyun’s voice calling out from inside the apartment. “y/n? you’re back?”

you step in, taking off your shoes as the door closes behind you, and he appears from the hallway looking a little flushed, a rag in his hand and a faint sheen of sweat on his neck. “i was just cleaning the studio for you,” he says, waving toward the small room down the hall. “it’s not huge, but with the light in there and some organizing, it’ll be perfect.”

you walk in behind him, noticing how he’s already cleared space in the corner, set up a small table for your supplies, even propped one of your canvases against the wall. on the floor, there’s a mattress laid out neatly with a pillow and blanket, and he turns to you a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“i, uh… i don’t have a bed frame for the extra mattress yet,” he says. “but don’t worry, i’m not gonna make you sleep like that. not when you're my guest.” he gestures toward his bedroom. “so, you’ll sleep with me. i mean—not like with me,” he adds quickly, ears turning red, “just, you know… in my room, you can have the bed if you want. i don’t mind sleeping here.”

you shake your head immediately. “i don’t want to take your space. it’s your room.”

but he just smiles at you, warm and sincere, and steps a little closer. “hey. you’re not taking anything. i want you to be comfortable here. i want you to feel like this is your space too, even if it’s temporary.” he looks at you for a long second, and then adds softly, “having you here… it already makes this place feel a little more like home.”

and just like that, something in your chest tightens—not painfully, but deep. a pull of affection, of something dangerous and familiar. you swallow hard, nodding, and whisper, “thank you, jaehyun.”

he grins, brushing his shoulder lightly against yours before walking off to put away the cleaning supplies, leaving you standing in the doorway of your new studio, heart full of too many things at once.

later that night, after unpacking the essentials and arranging a few of your supplies in the corner, you finally let yourself take a shower. the heat is unbearable—sticky and heavy, like it’s pressing against your skin—and jaehyun’s bathroom fills with steam almost immediately. you linger under the cold stream, letting it cool your body, calm your thoughts, and ease some of the tension still wound tightly in your chest after everything with sicheng.

you dry off and change into the lightest clothes you brought for sleeping: an old, thin cotton shirt and a pair of soft, loose shorts. no bra. it’s too hot, and your skin still feels tender from the shower. you gather your damp hair in a loose bun and step out into the hallway barefoot, following the quiet hum of a fan.

you find jaehyun in the studio—his new temporary bedroom for as long as you're staying. he’s sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands with a small oscillating fan blowing directly at his face. his black sleeveless shirt clings to his chest and shoulders, damp from sweat. the fabric is tight, showing off the sharp lines of his arms and torso, and the light gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips do nothing to distract from the way he looks: hot, flushed, and visibly uncomfortable.

you pause at the doorway, arms folded loosely across your chest, and tilt your head. “you look like you’re suffering.”

he turns to you, blinking slowly, his eyes dragging down your frame. you watch him swallow before giving you a small smile, breathless and sheepish. “yeah, the fan’s not doing much. this room is like an oven.”

you glance toward the hallway, then back at him. “you should sleep in your room. it’s cooler in there, and the a/c works. seriously, jaehyun, this heat could make you sick.”

he shakes his head, lifting a hand to wipe sweat from his neck. “i want you to be comfortable. you’re my guest, and that room’s yours now. i’ll be fine.”

you sigh, stepping further inside and lowering yourself beside him onto the mattress, knees brushing. “you’re being stubborn.”

“maybe,” he says softly, then adds with a smirk, “but you look cozy.”

you shrug, glancing down at your own body without thinking. the thin shirt clings to the curve of your chest, damp in places from residual heat and humidity. when you look back at him, his gaze has dropped—locked onto your chest, pupils darkening as his lips part just slightly.

his hand shifts, subtle and tentative, reaching as if to graze the side of your breast with the back of his fingers.

your reaction is immediate—you swat his hand away with a light slap, not harsh but firm enough to snap him out of it.

“don’t,” you say, voice low, a touch breathless. “they hurt.”

he blinks, confused. “they hurt?”

you nod, rubbing your arms. “since that night. i don’t know why. my nipples have been… sensitive. sore.”

he looks up at you again, something like guilt flickering across his face, mixed with an almost embarrassing curiosity. “shit. i didn’t know. i didn’t mean to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently. “but i mean it. they’re really sensitive. it’s not just a little sore—it’s like… they get too sensitive to touch. even clothes feel like too much sometimes.”

the fan whirs between you, filling the silence with soft mechanical noise. his shoulder brushes yours as you sit side by side on the mattress, skin still too warm, hearts beating louder than they should.

then, softly, he leans closer. “can we… do it quietly?”

his voice is almost a whisper, barely audible above the fan, like he’s afraid of breaking the tension between you.

you turn to him with wide eyes. “jaehyun…”

he watches your face, eager but trying to be patient. “junhoe’s already asleep. he won’t hear a thing,” he murmurs. “and it’s not like he doesn’t know what we’ve been doing.”

you hesitate, biting your lip. “still, it wouldn’t be… appropriate.”

he smiles a little, tilting his head as he murmurs, “maybe not. but that’s never stopped us before.”

he shifts slightly, and that’s when you see it— the prominent bulge straining against the front of his sweatpants, thick and pressing insistently against the fabric.

your breath catches. your lips part unconsciously, tongue darting out to wet them as you swallow, hard.

your body betrays your logic—heat coils low in your stomach, and your thighs instinctively press together.

“…maybe,” you murmur, glancing away as if that could tame the look in his eyes, “we can be quiet…”

jaehyun doesn’t need more than that.

he leans in, hand cupping the back of your neck as he kisses you deeply, hot and hungry and slow. your mouths move together in perfect rhythm, muffled moans swallowed into each other as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. his palms are warm—calloused in places—and they glide up your ribs, dragging goosebumps in their wake until his thumbs brush beneath your breasts, avoiding your nipples carefully, remembering your earlier words.

you arch into him, knees parting as he presses you down onto the mattress, his body heavy and hot above yours. his sweatpants are tugged down just enough to free himself, and he groans softly against your neck as you reach down, wrap your hand around his length, guiding him to your entrance.

the stretch is slow, agonizingly deep. your breath hitches, nails curling into his back as your thighs lock around his waist.

“fuck,” he whispers, teeth grazing your ear. “so wet for me already.”

you hush him with a kiss, the angle messy and desperate. each roll of his hips is slow, controlled, but the pressure builds so fast you’re gasping into his mouth, fingers fisting the sheet beside you as you fight to stay quiet. his hand snakes between your bodies, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to have your body trembling beneath him.

he fucks you through it—deep, slow thrusts that have you clenching around him as you come, mouth open in a silent moan, your body arching into his until you feel like you're floating.

he follows soon after, muffling his own release into your shoulder, breathing ragged, his arms wrapped tightly around you like he never wants to let go.

afterwards, he doesn't move for a while—just rests his forehead against yours, his weight a comforting pressure, your bodies still joined, slick with heat and sweat and something much more tender.

“still too hot?” you whisper, brushing his damp hair back.

he chuckles softly, kissing your cheek. “worth it.”

the morning sun filters through the soft curtains, warming the kitchen tiles beneath your bare feet. you’re already awake, hair loosely tied, moving about quietly in the oversized shirt you changed out of earlier and a casual, short dress—something comfortable and light for the heat. the apartment is still drowsy, silent except for the sound of the pan sizzling and the gentle clinking of utensils as you prepare breakfast.

jaehyun appears behind you, shirtless, with messy hair and sleep still heavy in his eyes. he blinks, confused for a second, before a small smile pulls at his lips. “you’re already up?”

you glance over your shoulder and smile. “yeah. figured it was the least i could do. i’m taking over your space, after all.” you point to the neatly arranged plates on the counter. “i made something special for you—salmon, asparagus with a bit of lemon zest, egg whites with spinach, and some avocado toast. something clean, for your athlete diet.”

he flushes a little, eyes dropping to the food, then back to you. “you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.”

he doesn’t answer. instead, he steps closer, so close you feel the heat of his body behind you. his hands find your waist first, then glide up slowly, until his palms cup your breasts. his touch is careful, slow, fingers massaging softly, like he’s remembering what you told him about how sore they’ve been since you had sex. you exhale sharply, feeling the pull in your belly again.

“jaehyun…” you murmur, shifting slightly. “stop. junhoe could see.”

he leans in, presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “he won’t be up for hours.”

but just then, a loud voice echoes down the hall. junhoe’s speaking—no, arguing—on the phone. you both freeze. his tone is annoyed, sharp, like he’s trying not to yell.

you push jaehyun back quickly, and he moves just in time to avoid suspicion as junhoe enters the kitchen. his expression shifts the moment he sees you—his frown smoothing into a smile.

“damn,” he says, sniffing the air. “you’re really making this place smell like home. i might need to learn your seasoning secrets.”

you laugh lightly, cheeks a bit pink, and he drops into a chair like the argument never happened. jaehyun joins you near the counter, acting casual, though you can still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the ache it left behind.

later, you're sitting in your morning class, a warm cup of coffee on the table beside your sketchpad. it’s quiet, the soft hum of discussion and charcoal against paper filling the room. you’re halfway through shading the curve of a collarbone when a familiar presence draws your gaze toward the door.

sicheng steps in.

his hair is shorter now—freshly cut, the soft brown strands falling over his forehead in a boyish fringe that makes him look impossibly youthful. there's no trace of the braces he used to wear, and his smile is just as warm, just as bright, but somehow… more refined. he’s dressed simply—black jeans, white oversized tee, sneakers still a little scuffed from dance practice. a tote bag hangs off his shoulder, half full of sketchbooks and folded dance clothes.

he notices you instantly, that same spark lighting his eyes. he waves, then walks over to take the seat beside yours like no time has passed. you smile back, but there’s something soft and bittersweet curled in your chest.

it’s strange—how seeing him again stirs all the memories like dust floating in sunlight.

jaehyun is like heat. sharp angles, smoldering glances, quiet control and intensity. he walks like the world bends for him, and he touches you like he owns your skin.

but sicheng is something else entirely.

his presence is gentle. like water, like a breeze, always moving around you instead of through you. he’s soft-spoken, thoughtful, and so expressive through movement—dance or drawing, it doesn’t matter. you don’t have to guess with sicheng. he always let you see him.

you find yourself watching him while he sketches beside you, his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of his mouth. you wonder if he meant it—what he said yesterday. that no one caught his eye in china. that he was too busy. that he was happy to be back with you.

and yet... you feel a pull in two directions.

your heart remembers how sicheng made you feel—safe, understood, like you were seen. but your body still aches for jaehyun, for the way he touches you, the way he whispers your name like it’s the only thing that matters.

you stare down at your drawing, your pencil hovering just above the page, and wonder how long you can keep walking this tightrope between nostalgia and desire.

the late afternoon light painted soft gold across the pavement as you and sicheng stepped out of the lecture hall, laughter low and easy between the two of you. your sketchbooks were tucked under your arm, the scent of coffee still lingering on your clothes. he said something about the way your shading had improved, and you smiled—genuinely, openly. it felt warm. safe. like home, if home had a heartbeat.

and then you felt it.

the heat of a gaze that wasn’t his.

jaehyun was across the courtyard, leaning against his car, arms crossed over his chest, black hoodie pulled over his head even in the heat. but his eyes—sharp, unrelenting—were fixed on you. or maybe on the way you looked at sicheng, as if he were something sacred, something carved out of soft marble and light.

your smile faltered for half a second. long enough.

jaehyun's brow furrowed, jaw tightening like it was holding back words he didn’t dare speak in public.

you said goodbye to sicheng shortly after, heart already twisting with the weight of what was coming.

the apartment door hadn’t even closed behind you before the silence turned heavy.

“so that’s him?” jaehyun asked from the kitchen, voice flat, almost too casual.

you paused, setting your bag down slowly. “what are you talking about?”

“the guy you were making heart eyes at all afternoon,” he said, turning around. “looked like you were about to drop to your knees and worship him.”

you rolled your eyes, your tone turning defensive. “don’t start.”

he took a step closer, eyes dark. “you really think i wouldn’t notice the way you looked at him? like he was the only person in the fucking world?”

you scoffed, crossing your arms. “and what if i did look at him like that? it’s not like you and i are anything.”

the silence after that was deafening.

you saw it—how his expression dropped, like you’d just pulled the rug out from under him. his shoulders tensed, breath hitching.

“so that’s all this is to you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “just... physical?”

you swallowed hard. the answer was on your tongue before you could stop it. “yeah. i thought we were just... blowing off steam. relieving stress.”

jaehyun looked at you like you’d just shattered something sacred. his hand dragged through his hair, a humorless chuckle slipping past his lips as he stared at the floor.

“fuck. i was really out here thinking we were building something,” he muttered. “that maybe... maybe this could be real.”

“jaehyun—”

“do you like him?” he interrupted, voice sharp now. “that guy. do you like him?”

you hesitated.

then nodded.

“yeah,” you said, voice soft but steady. “i think i do.”

he exhaled slowly, like he was trying not to explode. “right.”

you took a shaky breath, your own emotions catching up with you, fingers tightening around the hem of your dress. “maybe it’s better if we stop... whatever this is.”

his head snapped up.

“what?”

“i mean it,” you said. “you’re... you’re rough when we do it, jaehyun. even after i told you my breasts were sore, you still—” your voice cracked. “you kept touching them. like you didn’t listen. like you didn’t care.”

his face twisted in something between guilt and regret. “i didn’t mean to hurt you—i thought you liked it rough.”

“that doesn’t mean you can ignore me when i say something hurts,” you whispered.

he nodded, lips pressed into a line. “i’m sorry,” he said, stepping back. “i didn’t... i never wanted to make you feel like that.”

you stayed still as he grabbed his keys and water bottle from the table, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder.

“i’ve got training,” he said, not looking at you.

then, almost too fast to register, the door slammed shut behind him.

the echo of it left a hollow ache in your chest.

you stood there, alone in the quiet apartment, heart caught somewhere between anger and guilt. you hadn’t meant to hurt him, but the truth needed to be said.

still... it didn’t stop the sting that came with seeing him walk away like that.

and even though you’d been the one to draw the line, the silence he left behind wrapped around you like a second skin, suffocating in all the places he used to touch.

the gym was almost empty.

just the steady thump of fists against heavy bags and the distant hum of a playlist echoing through the padded walls. jaehyun stood alone in one of the back corners, shirt already soaked with sweat, jaw clenched so tightly his temples ached.

he'd been there for nearly an hour. hitting. dodging. repeating.

trying to erase the memory of your voice.

"you’re rough... even after i told you it hurt..."

the words played in loops in his head, louder than the music, louder than his own grunts as he threw punch after punch into the worn leather bag in front of him. his knuckles burned, taped up but raw underneath, wrists aching from the impact. but he didn’t stop.

"maybe it’s better if we stop."

he hit harder.

"you’re not listening."

harder.

"you don’t care."

his chest heaved with every breath, muscles tight, adrenaline pumping like poison in his veins.

"fuck," he growled under his breath, sweat dripping down his temple.

what the hell did you mean he didn’t care?

he did. too much, probably. that was the problem. he'd been trying so hard to show you, to express it in the only language he knew—touch, closeness, giving you his bed, making room for you in his world. but it hadn’t been enough. or maybe it had all been wrong.

and the worst part? he knew he wasn’t bad at this.

he’d never been the guy to leave girls unsatisfied. the girls he’d been with before? breathless, sore, obsessed. they texted him days later, months later, wanting more.

but you—you had made him feel like maybe none of that mattered.

maybe it wasn’t about the moves or the technique or how long he could make you scream.

maybe it was him.

his fists collided with the bag again, this time with a loud crack as one of the seams split slightly.

he didn’t even blink. just kept going.

“fuck,” he spat again, this time louder.

why wasn’t he enough?

why did it hurt so much to see you look at that other guy—sicheng—like he was art? like he was peace? like he was something soft and safe and deserving?

he hit again. again.

his mind raced.

did you think sicheng would be better in bed too?

gentler, sweeter, more “attentive”?

did you imagine him when you touched yourself now?

did you even think of jaehyun at all?

his vision blurred for a second, and before he could stop himself, he released a brutal, full-force punch with both hands—

CRACK.

the bag snapped off its chain and slammed into the floor with a dull, heavy thud.

jaehyun stood there, chest rising and falling rapidly, staring down at the busted bag like it was somehow your face, or maybe his own shame.

blood dripped from a busted knuckle. he didn’t feel it.

all he could hear was the echo of your voice, and the unbearable quiet that had come after you said goodbye.

the rain hadn’t stopped all evening.

you sat curled on the couch, blanket over your legs, scrolling aimlessly on your phone but not really seeing anything. you kept glancing at the window, hoping to hear the elevator ding, or footsteps in the hallway. nothing. just the sound of the storm, the wind howling against the glass, the relentless rhythm of the water beating down.

where is he?

you chewed on your lip, guilt twisting inside your stomach. he said he had training... but that was hours ago.

you hated that you still cared. hated that even after everything you said earlier, you were still worried. still thinking about him.

and then—click.

the front door creaked open.

your head snapped up. footsteps. wet ones.

you got up quickly, padding toward the small hallway, and then you heard it—a cough. rough and dry, followed by another one.

you peeked out.

there he was.

jaehyun stood in the entrance, completely drenched. soaked hair dripping over his forehead, shirt clinging to his body like second skin—completely see-through. every line of muscle beneath visible, his chest heaving slightly from the cold. his shorts were stuck to his thighs, sneakers squishing quietly against the tiles. he looked like a fucking painting. tragic. stunning. broken.

you inhaled sharply.

“you’re soaked,” you said, barely above a whisper.

he looked up at you, blinking water from his lashes. his eyes were tired. dark. unreadable.

you rushed to his room and grabbed the first towel you could find, returning quickly and holding it out for him.

he took it silently, rubbing at his hair with a few quick motions. droplets still clung to his jaw, his collarbones, sliding slowly down his neck, disappearing beneath the curve of his chest.

you stood there, frozen, watching him.

watching the muscles shift beneath his wet shirt as he patted himself dry. your eyes couldn’t help it—traveling from the hollow of his throat, down the sculpted lines of his torso, tracing the trail of water that disappeared into his waistband.

his gaze lifted suddenly, sharp and accusing.

why the fuck is she looking at me like that? like she wants to eat me alive... when she’s the one who ended it.

he didn’t say it. but you saw it. written all over his face.

your throat tightened. “oh— you should take a shower... before you catch a cold.”

his jaw ticked. he looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t.

“yeah,” he muttered. and then, after drying his hands enough not to leave puddles, he walked past you, disappearing into the bathroom.

you stood there, heart racing, the scent of rain and sweat still lingering in the air.

later, when the water had stopped running and you heard his door creak open again, you knocked gently on the wall of his room.

he was sitting on his bed in loose shorts and a hoodie, towel around his neck, hair still damp.

“can we talk?” you asked.

he didn’t look at you, just nodded.

you sat down beside him. the silence stretched long.

“i’m going back the day after tomorrow,” you said softly. “they wrapped up the research earlier than expected.”

he nodded again. “that’s good.”

you felt the ache in your chest grow. heavy and stupid.

“i just wanted to say... thank you,” you continued, voice a little unsteady. “for letting me stay. for everything. i know things got complicated but... you didn’t have to be so generous. and still, you were.”

jaehyun looked at you then, something unreadable in his eyes.

“it was nothing,” he said. then after a pause, added, “i really did enjoy having you here.”

you blinked.

having you here.

did he mean sharing space? or sharing bodies? or something in between?

you didn’t ask. you couldn’t.

because suddenly, the idea of leaving felt like dragging a blade through your own chest.

but you smiled anyway. and nodded.

"me too..."

that night, the apartment was quiet—too quiet, except for the constant hum of the fan coming from the studio. It was the only sign that jaehyun was still there, locked away in that room like he wanted to disappear into the heat and noise.

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the last touches of the dinner you had prepared. the scent of garlic and herbs filled the air, but your appetite was gone. all you could think about was how everything was coming to an end. that in just two days, you’d be gone. back to your place. back to your normal life.

without him.

the thought squeezed your chest.

why did we let it end like this?

but maybe it was for the best. things were getting complicated… you were starting to feel something, and not just for jaehyun. sicheng’s soft smile haunted your thoughts more than it should. and it felt wrong. it felt like you were betraying someone, and you didn’t even know who anymore.

you walked toward the studio and gently knocked on the door.

"jaehyun," you said softly. "dinner’s ready."

a moment passed before you heard his voice, rough but calm. "i’m not eating dinner. i’m cutting it three weeks before the tournament."

you frowned. "three weeks? that’s hardcore."

"it helps me stay in weight class," he answered. "and sharp."

"you’re really impressive," you said honestly. "so disciplined… i don’t think i could sleep on an empty stomach."

you heard the lightest chuckle from inside. it made your lips curve, a warmth blooming in your chest.

"i was thinking," you added. "it’s getting really hot in there. why don’t you sleep in your room tonight?"

silence.

then his voice, slower this time: "i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. not after earlier."

"it doesn’t make me uncomfortable," you admitted, a little too fast. "what makes me feel worse is knowing you're locked in there, sweating your ass off just to keep distance from me."

more silence.

later that night, you watched him drag the extra mattress into the room. he didn’t say much. neither did you. he just placed it gently on the floor and started setting it up like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you crawled into your bed and faced the wall, but you could feel him there. his presence, his breath, his energy.

he was trying to give you space.

and it hurt.

was he doing this because you asked him to? or because he really didn’t want to be close anymore?

you closed your eyes, but sleep didn’t come.

not with your body still remembering the feel of his mouth.

not with your heart aching like this.

the room was still, humid with tension. jaehyun's mattress lay across from your bed, a quiet symbol of the space now between you. you could hear his breathing, steady and calm, and for a moment you wondered if he was already asleep.

you weren’t.

your skin was hot, your thoughts restless. every little thing about the day had only stirred the ache further. the weight of goodbye, the ghost of his mouth on yours, the memory of his body—

"jaehyun?" you whispered.

there was a pause. then, his voice, low and a little raspy: "yeah?"

you hesitated, fingers curling into the bedsheet. "can you… kiss me? just once more?"

a breath caught in his throat. "what?"

"just one last time," you whispered again, barely audible. “before i leave.”

he didn’t answer, not with words. you heard the rustle of his blanket, the shift of his weight. then he stood, walking across the room and sitting beside you. in the dark, you felt his hand brush your cheek. you leaned into it.

his kiss came soft, uncertain at first. lips barely moving. a farewell. a memory in the making.

then it deepened—sweet, aching, slow. his tongue gently parted your lips, as if savoring the moment. like he didn’t want to let it go. you moaned softly against his mouth, hands sliding up his shoulders, fingertips grazing the curve of his neck.

his hands followed the lines of your body, but he didn’t push—just held you, like he wanted to memorize how you felt under his fingertips.

you guided one of his hands downward, over your ribs, across your stomach, lower, until his palm was between your thighs, pressed over your heat.

he froze, breath stalling.

"you're wet," he whispered, stunned. his forehead touched yours. "can i kiss you there?"

your thighs shifted, your core pulsing beneath his touch. and even though the rational part of you screamed don’t, your lips whispered something else— "yes... please."

he didn’t hesitate. slowly, he slid down the bed, pushing the covers aside, placing soft kisses on your inner thighs as his hands gently separated them. your legs trembled as he settled between them, breath ghosting over your already soaked folds. you were burning. aching. breathless with anticipation.

"you’re so fucking sweet," he murmured, lips brushing just above your clit. "i’ll be gentle this time. promise."

his tongue met your heat like he’d been dying for this. slow, deliberate licks, tracing you open, savoring your taste like a man starved. his mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked softly, making your hips jerk against him, a gasp torn from your lips. you slapped a hand over your mouth to stay quiet—junhoe was still in the apartment—but your body refused to obey.

"baby..." he whispered, licking a stripe down your slit. "you said this was the last time... but how am i supposed to let go of this?"

you whimpered as his fingers joined the party, slipping two inside you with sinful precision. they moved in rhythm with his mouth, hitting that sweet spot over and over, your thighs shaking around his head.

you were going to come. embarrassingly fast. "fuck, j-jaehyun—" "i got you," he mumbled, voice deep and thick against your core. "just let go. i want to feel you fall apart for me one last time."

your body obeyed his words before your mind could catch up. the orgasm rolled over you like a wave—deep, warm, toe-curling. you bucked against his mouth, clenching around his fingers, moaning into the pillow to muffle your cries.

when you finally stilled, breath ragged, skin damp with sweat, he kissed your inner thigh again. gentle. reverent.

he crawled back up, resting beside you, lips swollen, eyes dark but soft.

you looked at him. flushed, breathless, wrecked by his mouth, and yet aching for more.

"that wasn’t just a kiss," you whispered.

"no," he said, brushing your hair off your face. "it was me showing you that i fucking meant it. all of it."

the next day, you were in class, sitting beside sicheng. the room smelled like linseed oil and graphite, the mellow scent of the arts building you’d come to love. your hands moved across the canvas, sketching lines with soft, deliberate strokes—though your mind was far from focused.

he leaned over you, reaching for a box of charcoals, and your hands brushed. just a moment. just fingertips. but it sent a shiver up your spine. later, as you both reached for the same jar of solvent, your elbows bumped, and you felt his warm breath near your cheek. again, it seemed like a coincidence, but every little contact made your stomach tighten.

you tried to concentrate, to breathe through the rising heat in your chest, but your thoughts kept pulling you back to last night. to Jaehyun. to the weight of his body. the sound of his voice when he was between your thighs. the way your name left his lips like a prayer and a plea.

you hadn’t even realized you’d been staring into nothing until sicheng turned slightly, studying your expression.

"you're distracted," he said softly, his voice like silk. “you’ve redrawn the same line five times.”

you gave a small, dry laugh and shook your head. “i guess i’m just… tired.”

he tilted his head, that same calm, unreadable smile dancing on his lips. “that’s not the look of someone who’s just tired. that’s the look of someone who keeps thinking about someone else.”

your heart skipped. his gaze was gentle, but piercing. he saw right through you.

you lowered your head, hiding the flush that rose to your cheeks. “i don’t want to talk about it,” you whispered with a sad smile.

he didn’t push. he just nodded. “okay,” he said simply. “but you should come tomorrow night. the dance club has a small showcase. nothing formal. just movement and music. might help you get out of your head for a while.”

you nodded slowly. he lifted a hand and gently placed it on your forehead, checking your temperature.

“no fever,” he murmured. “but something’s definitely burning in there.”

you almost melted from that touch, so full of care. that was sicheng—soft-spoken, graceful, thoughtful. so different from jaehyun, whose touch burned like wildfire and left you gasping.

sicheng’s energy was gentle rain.

jaehyun’s was summer lightning.

when you got back to the apartment, the day had started to fade. you were packing up your things—your sketchbooks, your clothes, the small souvenirs you’d collected during your stay. junhoe was outside, laughing with his girlfriend. jaehyun was still at training. he had warned you it would be intense this week, but told you to call him if you needed anything.

even after everything, he was still… good to you.

you ate alone. showered. and the silence of the apartment began to settle in your bones. it wasn’t just the heat that made your skin feel flushed—it was something deeper. more primal. your thighs rubbed together with a soft friction as you walked around your room, and the sensation only made things worse.

lying in bed, your mind betrayed you. you thought of his voice, his mouth, his hands on you. the way he’d whispered your name while he kissed down your body.

you shouldn't. you shouldn't. but your body ached. your fingers slipped under your shorts, brushing over sensitive skin. your breath caught. then deepened.

you moaned softly, barely biting down the sound. "jaehyun..." you whimpered his name like a secret, hips twitching, your core wet and throbbing from the memory.

you were too far gone to hear the knock at the door. too caught in the heat building between your thighs to register the voice on the other side.

“y/n?” jaehyun’s voice came again, more firm. “i’m coming in.”

you didn’t hear him.

so he opened the door.

and froze.

you were sprawled on the bed, your body arched, your fingers deep inside, glistening with your own need. you were panting, whispering his name in broken sighs, eyes shut tight.

his jaw clenched. his chest rose and fell rapidly as he stood there, rain still dripping from his hair. he hadn't even changed out of his workout clothes yet.

you opened your eyes.

and saw him.

the heat rushed to your face, but your body didn’t stop. not yet.

he stared at you like he couldn’t breathe.

you licked your lips, chest heaving.

“close the door,” you said softly, voice trembling, not from shame—but from desire.

jaehyun stood frozen for a heartbeat, rainwater dripping from his hair onto his shoulders, again, dark patches spreading across his shirt where sweat met humidity. his eyes devoured you—spread open, soaked with need, your fingers still buried in your pussy, slick and glistening under the dim light of your bedside lamp.

he moved.

the door clicked shut behind him.

you watched the muscles in his arms flex as his hand remained on the knob for just a second longer, as if trying to convince himself to stay on that side of the threshold. but it was too late. he had already seen you. already heard the way you moaned his name like a hunger. there was no turning back now.

he took one step, then another, until he was standing at the edge of the bed.

your fingers stilled, but didn’t leave your core. you kept your eyes on him, testing him. daring him.

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you whispered, throat dry. “about your mouth... your hands…”

his breath hitched.

then, as if that snapped the leash he’d been holding all day, he moved. fast.

he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed, his large hands sliding under your thighs, pulling you to the edge like you weighed nothing. his eyes locked with yours—dark, intense, but still seeking permission.

you nodded.

“say it,” he rasped, his lips barely touching the inside of your thigh. “tell me i can taste you.”

“please,” you breathed. “i need your mouth on me… now.”

he groaned like a starving man given his first taste, and then he was on you.

his tongue swept over your folds in one slow, deliberate lick that made your entire body shudder. his grip on your thighs tightened, spreading you further, anchoring you against the mattress. he licked you again, then again, teasing the edges of your clit before finally sucking it between his lips and giving it the attention you were dying for.

you cried out, your back arching, one hand flying to his hair, gripping it as you rolled your hips into his face. he moaned against you, the vibration shooting up your spine like lightning.

“f-fuck, jae,” you gasped, legs already trembling.

he hummed in response, pulling you closer, burying his face deeper between your thighs. his tongue flicked, circled, then flattened against your clit in slow, rhythmic pressure that made your stomach twist in the best way.

and then—one finger slid inside you. then another.

you clenched around him with a moan that echoed off the walls.

he fucked you with his fingers as his tongue worked your clit like he knew every nerve ending in your body. it was too much. it wasn’t enough. your moans got louder, needier, your hips grinding into his mouth.

you were so close.

“i’m gonna—jaehyun, i—!”

he sucked hard, curling his fingers just right—

and you shattered.

your thighs clamped around his head, your scream muffled by your own palm as your orgasm tore through you like a wave crashing, your body convulsing in pleasure as you rode his mouth, unable to stop the way you trembled.

he held you through it, slow and patient, licking you gently, easing you down with soft kisses and slow fingers until your body finally collapsed against the bed, boneless and buzzing.

when he finally pulled back, his mouth was glistening with you. his chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, his eyes dark and wild.

and then, he leaned up and whispered against your lips—

“your turn to taste me.”

the next morning came quicker than you'd hoped. the sun barely kissed the windows when you were already up, heart still aching with confusion, with memories—tender and hot—that clung to your skin like ghostly hands. you got dressed in something simple, but lovely. not for anyone in particular, or so you told yourself… but deep down, you knew better. for him. maybe.

the chinese classical dance showcase was held in the university’s small theater, adorned with flowing red curtains and warm lighting that gave the place a soft, enchanted glow. there was a hush in the room as people took their seats, the air filled with anticipation and the faint notes of traditional instruments.

and then, when the lights dimmed and the curtain pulled open—he appeared.

sicheng.

draped in silk that flowed with every precise, delicate movement, his presence on stage was otherworldly. ethereal. like he didn’t belong to the same world as the rest of you. he moved with an elegance that stole your breath—arms extended in slow, sinuous arcs, his fingers painting invisible poems in the air. each leap, each spin, was poetry, full of grace and intention. time bent around him. for the minutes he danced, there was no past, no tomorrow. only him.

you were spellbound. your chest tightened with something sweet and dangerous. why does he have this effect on me?

sicheng twirled in the air as if he were defying gravity itself, his silhouette floating with a grace that felt unreal. his hair moved with the rhythm of his body, the folds of his costume danced like soft waves around him. every muscle seemed to flow with pure, clean, almost sacred intention.

your eyes followed him in a trance... but then, a blink—and the image of his body was replaced by another. more solid. more earthly. more raw...

the room was silent, save for the ragged breathing between you. the light was dim, just a small lamp casting a warm glow over the sheets. jaehyun had you pinned against them, his hair still damp, his eyes lit up. he had just made you come with his mouth, his tongue. and now... now he was looking at you with a wicked grin, a drop of sweat trailing down his temple.

“now it’s your turn to taste me,” he said in a low, husky voice, his fingers brushing your cheeks before guiding your face down.

you settled between his legs and took him into your mouth, savoring the heat and weight of his erection, feeling his body tighten with every move of your lips. your fingers traced along his thighs as you let him slide deeper, eager, hungry. he moaned your name, one hand tangled in your hair, the other caressing your neck, your shoulder... his hips trembling beneath your attention.

when he finally came in your mouth, you swallowed it all, never breaking eye contact, as if that moment was a statement. of desire. of surrender. of something you weren't sure was just sex anymore.

a sudden wave of applause jolted you back to the present.

the lights on the stage had changed. sicheng was now bowing, his chest rising and falling gently as he caught his breath, his lips parted in a serene smile. his fellow dancers joined him, their elegant costumes glowing under the soft stage lights, but you couldn’t focus on anyone else. just him. the way a drop of sweat trailed along his jawline, how the fabric of his outfit clung to his body in all the right places. ethereal, beautiful, almost not real.

your cheeks were burning. not just from the warmth of the theater.

you’d just spent the last few minutes with your mind between jaehyun’s thighs.

clapping like the rest, you tried to mask your daze, but your pulse was racing. your lips tingled with memory. and yet… your eyes were on sicheng, on his grace, his soft composure, the quiet elegance that contrasted everything about last night.

he caught your gaze then—just for a second. he smiled. gentle. curious. and maybe, just maybe, a little bashful.

your hands shook a little as you held the floral arrangement you brought of white lilies and soft lavender stems, carefully wrapped in pale gold paper. you hadn't planned to bring flowers. it had been a sudden impulse at a corner stand on your way to the venue. but now, looking at his glowing face and flushed cheeks, it felt like the right choice, not until you saw him step off the stage, cheeks flushed from the exertion, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

you approached, heart hammering, and when you handed him the bouquet, his eyes widened. “for me?” he asked softly, voice like velvet.

you nodded, suddenly shy. “you were… incredible.”

a faint pink spread across his cheeks. around him, a few of his dance friends whistled and nudged each other, muttering playful comments under their breath.

“damn, sicheng. didn’t know you had a secret admirer.”

“who’s this pretty girl, huh?”

he smiled awkwardly and turned to you. “don’t listen to them,” he said quietly, taking the flowers with both hands like they were something fragile. precious. “but… thank you. really.”

you smiled back, heart fluttering wildly. you didn’t know what any of this meant yet. but you knew one thing: for those minutes watching him dance, the only person in your mind was him.

or maybe not...

his friends were still teasing him behind their hands, but in that moment, it felt like you and him were in your own little world.

a quiet pause stretched between you.

then—

“want to go for a walk?” he asked softly. “i still feel like i’m floating. and maybe i need help grounding myself.”

you smiled, heart stuttering in your chest.

“yeah… i think i need that too.”

sicheng walked up to you with his face softly lit by the park’s lanterns, the same ones now catching on the edges of the petals he held between his fingers—the small bouquet you'd given him after the performance. his steps were slow, careful, as if he didn’t want to disturb the fragile stillness between you.

"thanks for coming," he said, his voice quiet, almost like a breath.

you nodded, still caught in the afterglow of watching him move on stage. the way his body floated, controlled yet weightless, like he wasn’t bound by the rules of gravity. you hadn’t expected it to affect you like this. but it had. deeply.

"it was beautiful, sicheng… really. i couldn’t take my eyes off you," you said, almost absentmindedly. your fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of your coat, as if trying to hold on to something more solid than your drifting emotions.

he smiled, just slightly, but didn’t look away.

"you were like a feather in the wind… so light. So fluid. i didn’t know you could move like that."

you kept talking, caught in the spell of the moment. and then, before you realized it, the words slipped out.

"that's why I liked you so much…"

silence.

sicheng blinked, tilting his head like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right.

"you liked me?"

your breath hitched, panic fluttering in your chest. "i—i mean… i used to. in the past. it was just a little crush," you rushed, trying to backtrack. "it doesn’t matter anymore."

sicheng watched you carefully, his expression unreadable. "so… do you still like me?"

you hesitated. "no!" you said too quickly, too sharply. then softer, almost afraid of the weight your own voice carried. "no..."

but his eyes stayed on yours, gentle but questioning. you sighed.

"maybe. i mean, a little. i think… the feelings are coming back. but i know you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. you don’t have to worry or feel pressured or anything like that, sicheng. i just hope this doesn’t change anything between us. i'd hate to make you uncomfortable. and if you want me to stay away, i will. just… please, don’t be upset."

you looked down, cheeks burning, heart pounding in your ears. you’d said too much, or maybe not enough. you couldn’t tell.

sicheng stood there for a moment, as if processing your words. the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound between you, a small, peaceful distance that felt so wide in the silence. he stepped a little closer, his eyes soft but intense, and then he spoke, his voice steady and calm, but there was a hint of vulnerability in it.

"don’t worry," he said with a gentle smile, his hand reaching out to lightly touch your arm, offering comfort. "i won’t be upset. i’m not going to ask you to stay away. i'm your friend, and that won’t change because of this."

He paused for a beat, looking at you as if searching for something in your eyes, something more than just the words you’d said. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

"but…" he continued, his voice dropping a bit, "i can't pretend i don't care about you. i think i always have, even if i never said it before. it’s just… it’s complicated now, and i don’t want you to feel pressured either. so, let’s just take it slow, okay? we don’t need to rush anything."

sicheng's expression softened even further, and for a moment, it was like the world around you two disappeared. his smile wasn’t just comforting, it was full of understanding.

you were standing so close to him now, your heart beating loudly in your chest. the air between you was thick with unspoken words, with tension you couldn’t ignore. you hesitated, staring into his eyes, wondering if you were truly ready for what you were about to ask.

“now that you know… can you do me a favor?” the words came out quieter than you intended, the weight of them settling heavily in the air.

sicheng blinked, his eyes narrowing in thought as he processed your request. “a favor? what do you mean?”

your gaze flickered away from his, your voice catching in your throat. you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to say it aloud. but the urge was too strong, the need inside of you too overwhelming. you exhaled slowly, almost in defeat.

“can i kiss you?”

his eyes widened, the shock registering in the brief silence that followed. for a moment, it felt like the world had stopped. his breath caught in his throat, and you saw the uncertainty flicker across his features.

“you want to... kiss me?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

you nodded, barely able to meet his gaze. "yes... i just... i need to know. i need to know how it feels, how your lips taste. it's... it's been eating at me, this feeling. maybe... maybe it’s just to push this feeling away. i don’t know."

he stood frozen for a moment, his expression a mix of shock and something you couldn’t place. he looked at you for a long, lingering second, his eyes searching yours as if to see if you were being serious. then, he seemed to shake himself from the stupor and scratched the back of his neck, nervous and unsure.

“i… i didn’t think you’d say that,” he muttered, voice a little rough, the words tangled in his throat.

he lowered his gaze for a brief moment, his hand nervously brushing his cheek. “i’m not sure what to think. but…” he trailed off, and when he met your eyes again, there was something unreadable in his gaze. “okay. but… make it quick.”

you felt your heart beat faster at his words, the rush of anticipation and fear flooding through you. you didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but the craving was too strong, and there was no turning back now.

you took a step forward, the movement slow, deliberate. you could feel the tension in your own body, the nervous energy that seemed to hum through the air. his body was stiff, unsure, but he didn’t pull away. he waited.

with shaky hands, you placed them on his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. his breath hitched, and you swore you could hear the thumping of your own heart. you leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his for a split second. It was a soft, tentative touch, like testing the waters. But the moment your lips met, something shifted.

the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. it was a question. it was an answer. you were both asking for something, craving something that neither of you could fully understand.

you pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes, searching for any hint of what he was feeling. but before you could even process his reaction, he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with more urgency this time. his hand moved to your back, pulling you closer. the kiss deepened, and everything around you seemed to blur, the world fading away except for the heat between you two.

the kiss was no longer short, no longer just a way to silence the burning question. it was desperate, as if you both needed more, as if this was something that had been building for so long that it couldn’t be contained any longer. his hands roamed up your back, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you even closer. you felt the heat rise in you, the growing need to touch, to feel, to be lost in him.

his lips moved against yours with a purpose, his body pressing into yours as if there was no room for anything but the two of you. the kiss continued, each second stretching into eternity, each touch, each brush of skin against skin, sending sparks through your body.

but then, reality hit. you pulled back, gasping for air, your chest rising and falling rapidly. his breathing was heavy as well, his eyes wide, lips still tingling from the kiss. you couldn’t stop the rush of emotions flooding through you—desire, confusion, fear.

“i… i shouldn’t have done that,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

sicheng didn’t say anything immediately. he looked at you, his expression unreadable, like he was trying to piece together everything that had just happened. the silence stretched on, heavy between you. his hand brushed over his mouth, as if he were still feeling the sensation of your lips on his.

you couldn’t look him in the eye, the weight of your actions crashing down on you. the tension between you was unbearable now, and you didn’t know what would come next.

then, in the distance, you heard footsteps. jaehyun. he had finished his workout and was walking out of the gym, just as you and sicheng stood frozen in the aftermath of what had just transpired. jaehyun’s eyes caught yours and sicheng’s, and in that moment, you saw the flash of recognition in his gaze. he froze in place, staring at you both, the confusion and pain clear on his face.

his chest tightened as he processed the sight before him, and in an instant, something inside him seemed to break. all the thoughts, all the moments he had imagined between the two of you seemed to shatter. it was like a cruel slap to the face, reality crashing down on him, and he turned away, the pain settling into his chest, knowing that everything had just changed.

the sound of your footsteps felt heavier than they should have as they echoed through the empty apartment. you were packing your things, moving with mechanical precision, but your mind couldn’t escape the haunting image of last night. the kiss. sicheng. his hands. your heart pounding in your chest like it might explode.

everything about it was vivid. the heat of his body, the intensity in his eyes, the way he touched you... and now, as you stood there, surrounded by your things, you felt lost. something inside you had snapped, and you couldn’t figure out why. you didn’t understand what you had just done.

you had run. you hadn’t even thought about it. you ran from sicheng, from the confusion, from the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you ignored his calls, not because you didn’t care, but because you couldn’t explain something you didn’t even understand yourself. you felt terrible—empty.

you paused, feeling your body shake, your hands trembling. you bent over slightly, resting your hands on your knees, trying to steady yourself. the nausea in your stomach was unbearable, like it was rising from deep within you. it wasn’t the kiss, it wasn’t what had happened between you and sicheng—it was something deeper. something didn’t feel right. It felt wrong. simply wrong.

and then you remembered. the night before. the night you had been with jaehyun. you had been in his arms, lost in him, and it had felt real. sincere. everything about it had been intense, wild, and raw. but now, with sicheng, you felt nothing but emptiness. a hollow sensation that gnawed at you from the inside. why didn’t you feel the same way with jaehyun? why did everything feel so deliriously good with him? why had it felt like it was right, like you belonged there? now, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had just made a mistake.

you sank down onto the floor, your back against the wall, and buried your face in your hands. the dizziness didn’t fade. the weight of your thoughts was suffocating. you needed to breathe. you needed to calm down.

but how could you calm down when you didn’t know what you were feeling? you had been with jaehyun—everything had felt so right with him, so raw and real. and now… now it all seemed confusing. you had never felt this conflicted before.

you didn’t know if you could trust your feelings anymore.

and then you heard it—the silence, the absence of his presence. jaehyun. he hadn’t come home. you hadn’t heard from him all day. no messages. no calls. nothing.

he had left first. and you hadn’t even had the chance to reach him. you had tried, but it was impossible. the way he looked at you—the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment. you could feel it still. he had seen you, had seen the two of you together, and something in his expression had shattered. he didn’t want to see you anymore. not after what you’d done.

your stomach churned again. the truth was that you didn’t want to be in this mess, but here you were, trapped in a web of confusion, unable to untangle the feelings inside you.

you couldn’t go back. you couldn’t change what had happened with jaehyun or with sicheng.

and yet, here you were. lost in the aftermath.

jaehyun’s footsteps were heavy as he walked down the darkened streets, each step taking him farther from the image that had been seared into his mind. he had tried to push it away, tried to shake off the sting of seeing you and sicheng together, but the moment kept replaying in his head.

he hadn’t returned to the apartment. no, he couldn’t. not after what he had seen. not after the raw, aching pain that twisted in his chest when he saw you, your lips pressed against his. the image of sicheng’s hands on your body, his lips moving with yours, had made his stomach churn with a mix of anger and hurt. he hadn’t expected it—he hadn’t prepared for the jealousy that hit him like a punch to the gut.

his thoughts were scattered as he wandered aimlessly. he ended up at taeyong’s place, needing a distraction, anything to stop the storm of emotions that had overtaken him. he let himself in, muttering a brief greeting before collapsing on the couch. taeyong was there, of course, with a drink in hand, silently observing him. jaehyun didn’t speak at first, just grabbed the glass taeyong offered him and took a long sip, feeling the burn of alcohol slide down his throat. it was the only thing that seemed to calm the fire inside him.

“you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” taeyong remarked, his voice laced with concern.

jaehyun let out a bitter laugh. "no, it's worse. i saw something i wasn’t supposed to see."

taeyong raised an eyebrow but didn’t push him further. jaehyun didn’t need to explain. taeyong always understood. he leaned back into the couch, his mind replaying the scene—your face, the way you kissed sicheng, like you belonged to him. jaehyun felt a tightness in his chest. he didn’t know why it hurt so much. he wasn’t even sure where he stood with you anymore. you had been so distant recently, and yet, seeing you with him, it felt like a betrayal.

it wasn’t that he hadn’t seen this coming—he had. he just hadn’t expected it to hit him this hard. and now, every drink he took seemed to make him forget for a moment, but the feeling always returned. the hurt. the confusion. the jealousy.

jaehyun’s fingers tightened around the glass, his mind swirling with thoughts of you. why didn’t you tell me? his chest ached, but he didn’t want to confront you—not yet. he wasn’t ready to face whatever was happening between you two.

he didn’t know if he was angry, heartbroken, or just lost. all he knew was that he couldn’t shake the image of you and sicheng together, and it felt like something inside him had snapped.

“damn it,” jaehyun muttered under his breath, taking another sip, his gaze distant.

the days passed slowly, like honey sliding down glass—thick, heavy, and impossible to stop.

you left the apartment the very next morning. you didn’t wait for jaehyun to return. maybe you were too ashamed. or maybe… you were afraid of what his silence truly meant. returning to your own place felt like stepping backward into a version of yourself you had outgrown. everything was still the same, but everything felt different.

unpacking was painful. every folded shirt, every book you placed back on the shelf carried the weight of disappointment. guilt clung to you like damp clothes. you had betrayed something you hadn’t even fully understood yet. something tender. something real. something that had bloomed quietly between you and jaehyun… and now was ruined.

yes, you were the one who ended it. you had been the one to say "we shouldn't" back when things got too deep. you told him not to catch feelings. and still—you had let him back in the same way he’d always slipped through the cracks in your walls. and now, after everything, there was nothing.

no calls.

no texts.

no late-night knocks on your door.

even though he knew exactly where you lived.

nothing.

you cried for the first few days. not because he hadn’t come, but because you didn’t know what you wanted him to do anymore. you were angry with yourself—for wanting him despite it all. for needing his arms when you had no right to ask for them. sicheng had kept his distance too. and you? you let him. maybe that was for the best.

your friends tried to distract you—girls’ nights, coffee dates, random gossip and karaoke—but they didn’t know. not really. they assumed you had fallen for sicheng again, that he’d rejected you for good this time. and you didn’t correct them. it wasn’t entirely a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

two weeks passed. fourteen days without a word from him. and you were slowly starting to accept it.

until—

it was a thursday afternoon when your paths finally crossed again.

you were at the university gym, dropping off some flyers for the art department's spring showcase. you weren’t expecting to see anyone. especially not him.

but there he was.

inside the training room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, gloves on, sweat clinging to his shirt. jaehyun. focused. sharp. fierce. every punch he threw looked like it carried a piece of the storm inside him. his coach barked something, and jaehyun adjusted his stance, but his movements were tight. frustrated.

you froze outside the glass doors, unsure if you should move or melt into the floor. but then he noticed you.

his eyes caught yours.

and for a moment, everything stopped.

he didn’t look angry. he didn’t look cold. he looked tired.

he stepped out of the ring, pulled off his gloves, and walked toward you slowly, wiping his face with a towel. you swallowed, nerves curling in your stomach like fists.

“hey,” you said, your voice barely audible.

he didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, chest rising and falling, eyes scanning you like he didn’t know whether to breathe you in or let you go again.

“i wasn’t sure i’d ever see you again,” he finally said, his voice low.

“i didn’t think you’d want to,” you replied. you bit your lip. “you didn’t come. or call. i thought that was your answer.”

he looked down, exhaled slowly, then met your gaze again. “i couldn’t.”

his voice cracked just a little. “i tried... every day. but i couldn’t look at you and not remember…”

you stepped forward, just slightly. “I know, i know it was... awful.”

“no,” he interrupted. “you don’t understand. i didn’t stay away because i hate you. i stayed away because i didn’t know how to stop wanting you even after everything.”

silence stretched between you. the hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

“i ruined it,” you whispered.

jaehyun shook his head. “maybe. maybe not.”

another pause.

“i have a fight in three days,” he added, softer. “it’s my biggest match yet. national-level. i’ve been training harder than ever. but… it hasn’t helped.”

you frowned. “why?”

“because you’re still here,” he said, placing his hand over his chest. “and i can’t punch that away.”

tears pricked your eyes, and your breath caught in your throat.

“i’m not asking for anything,” you said quietly. “i just… i missed you.”

his gaze softened. “me too.”

then, slowly, he reached for your hand, curling his fingers around yours like he wasn’t sure if this was a mistake. like touching you might hurt—but not touching you hurt more.

“you coming to watch me fight?” he asked, with the faintest of smirks. “or do i have to win without you in the crowd?”

you let out a soft laugh, choking on emotion. “i’ll be there.”

“good.” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “because i want to win with you watching. not for you. just… with you there.”

and for the first time in two weeks, your heart didn’t feel like it was splitting open. it just felt full.

the crowd was louder than you expected. people packed the stands, their voices rising in a chorus of cheers, whistles, and anxious calls. the atmosphere in the arena pulsed with energy, but all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

and jaehyun’s name being called.

you were sitting near the front, just behind his coach, surrounded by other athletes, trainers, and curious fans. the lights dimmed slightly as the announcer’s voice echoed across the arena.

“coming to the ring now… jung jaehyun!”

you stood without realizing, eyes wide as he stepped into the spotlight. his robe slid off his shoulders, revealing the toned body you already knew too well, but now wrapped in determination. his jaw was clenched, his eyes locked forward. he looked powerful, composed—like a storm waiting to be unleashed.

but when his eyes scanned the crowd…

he found you.

for a split second, his expression shifted. just a flicker of softness in the middle of all that steel. and that was just for you.

you felt it deep inside—something warm, something alive again.

the bell rang.

the first round started fast.

his opponent was no amateur—he moved with precision, like a shadow in motion. jaehyun didn’t hesitate. he dodged, countered, landed a jab. then another. you gripped the edge of your seat, body tense with every strike. he was holding his own. no—he was winning.

but then the second round came, and it got messier.

the other boxer caught him hard—right hook to the ribs, then a left jab to the cheek that made jaehyun stumble. gasps filled the room, and your heart dropped into your stomach.

he got back up.

you rose from your seat, whispering his name under your breath like a prayer. come on, jaehyun… come on.

and he did. like a man possessed.

round three was war. each punch carried purpose, rage, and focus. his muscles burned, but he didn’t stop. he pushed through the pain, through the exhaustion, through whatever was still bleeding inside him. because you were watching.

he could feel you watching.

in the final seconds of the round, he landed a brutal uppercut that knocked his opponent clean off his feet. the crowd erupted. the bell rang.

and he won.

you didn’t realize you were crying until someone nudged you, telling you it was over. that he’d done it.

but all you could think was—he’s going to look for me.

and he did.

still breathless, sweat clinging to him like a second skin, jaehyun left the ring and walked straight toward you. no interviews. no press. no team celebration.

just you.

he reached you in two long strides, grabbed your face with both hands, and kissed you so fiercely you forgot how to breathe. the world fell away. no one else mattered.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, he whispered:

“i needed you there. i fought better because of you.”

your voice cracked as you whispered back, “i’ve always been with you.”

and in that moment—under the lights, in front of everyone, after all the silence and all the mistakes—he smiled.

because no matter how broken it had felt…

you were here.

and maybe, just maybe, you were going to be okay.

cbeargyu💭 hey! i’ve been super active here today LMAO. this post feels kinda different from the stuff i’ve been writing lately bc fun fact this was actually the first fic i ever wrote for the platform. BUT i never posted it tho, it’s been sitting in my drafts since 2023 🫣 but i finally decided to upload it today!! it was supposed to be just a one-shot but it turned out way too long, so i’ll be posting part two soon once i go over it and organize it properly :D hope you enjoy it! it’s inspired by a manhwa i absolutely loved called peach sorbet 🩷 totally recommend it btw! <3

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leonalovesalot · 2 months ago

Text

Make me feel

Dealer!Patrick x Reader

18+ Minors DNI

wc: 7.7k

Also, lots of negative self-talk so proceed with caution!!

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

Patrick was your town's ne'er-do-well.

He sold drugs to anyone who had the funds and didn't care that every dollar he made was dirty. A man's gotta eat, right?

Molly, grass, poppers, speed, crack, bump.

You name it, he sold it.

He was well-known and those who had interacted with him, always took a liking. He was charismatic and he knew it.

But all that street-smart prowess didn't translate to 'school smart' since Patrick was held back in his senior year. He was pissed because he didn't get to share his graduation with his friends, who all moved away to big, pretentious— sorry, prestigious— universities, while he rotted in this stupid town. There was a silver lining though. He expanded his clientele through people he met while repeating senior year, and made more paper than he ever could've imagined.

The summer after graduation was spent getting high and partying until he felt numb. That was the lowest he had ever been and it got worse when his parents threw him out. Something about how he needed to get his shit together because he couldn’t just live off of them for the rest of his life (he wasn’t really listening).

Patrick was lost. He spent the next few months couch surfing until he got enough money to rent a tiny studio apartment above a corner store. He was still proud that he afforded it all on his own, but it wasn't enough.

Eventually, the dealing became a side hustle when he got a bartending job at a seedy pub down the road from a motel and a gentlemen's club. His coworkers would invite him along, after their shift, to the strip club. He went the first few times but then began declining because of the second-hand embarrassment he'd get when his coworkers shamelessly flirted with the strippers. Though Patrick loved women, and never passed up on an opportunity to flirt with a pretty lady, the strippers were just working and he didn't like to interfere.

That's what his life was like in a nutshell. Most days were identical to the ones that came before them, but he didn't mind. He was making decent money and living independently with no one to answer to.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

You were an empty shell.

Another long day made you plummet further into your numbness. Pleasure, love, laughter were all a distant memory that you’d find yourself holding tightly in your hands to keep yourself from slipping over the edge. The edge of what? You didn’t know yet. But you had a gut feeling that if you kept going on like this, you would meet your undoing.

You weren’t depressed, no, you had no reason to be. You were just an average student with a shit sleep schedule and a stacking debt that you actually began having recurring nightmares about. In those dreams you were always standing next to a pile of money that you needed but could never reach. You’d reach out to grab it and it was always out of your arms-length. You’d run towards it but never get there because you were running in the same spot. Although running and not moving was scary, the main fear you felt from those nightmares was how alone you were. No one else was in those dreams. Just you, struggling, screaming, panting. Then your alarm would pull you out of it and you’d head to the bathroom to put your face on.

A good night’s sleep was beginning to feel like a myth. Something that you heard of, but knew wasn’t real. Not to you anyway.

After cruising through high school without breaking a sweat, you assumed university would be the same. You were cocky, and had every right to be. But the universe likes to prove you wrong, and so you had no idea you were gearing up for the worst years of your life.

For everyone else, it seemed easy. Commuting, living alone, studying, hanging with friends — the ideal student experience. You were nowhere near that crowd. You hadn’t made friends, no connections, you’d even lost passion for your major. You were a bitter and lonely person.

Stupid, idiot.

And it would be fine and you could get over it, if your self worth wasn’t tied into your academic performance. Those letter grades, the GPAs, the feedback, was all a direct reflection of you. On a day you’d get a bad mark on something, you’d come home and look in the mirror only to find that you’d grown uglier. Hands would be all over your face — touching, picking, scratching— anything to vent your frustration whilst punishing yourself. If your grades were ugly, you’d make yourself uglier. You didn’t deserve to feel good on the outside. Not until you got your act together.

“You’re a waste,” you spat, disgusted at your reflection in the mirror. You slammed your fist on the counter and left the bathroom.

Toxicity was your roommate.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

It was almost reading break. A full week without class where you're finally allowed to take a breather. That was its intended use anyway— but you had an exam on the first day back, which completely defeated the whole purpose of taking time to yourself. Whatever, you didn’t have it in you to care.

Your last lab of the week had taken the life out of you. While you waited for the lab facilitator to check your station for cleanliness, you almost fell asleep standing up. A four hour lab was fucking criminal and you wanted to find whoever was responsible for bringing this nightmare into existence, and rip them to shreds.

But leaving late meant your bus was basically empty and that made you feel better. You liked to sit near the middle, right next to the door, so you could be out right away. You had an irrational fear that you wouldn’t make it to the door on time and the bus driver would laugh and just drive on anyway. Irrational.

Usually after such a long lab you’d rest your eyes for the duration of your journey home, but today you just stared out the window as your headphones softly played Chopin. It was cold out, despite it being spring. But spring in your city didn’t mean flowers and dresses. It meant rain. A whole lot of it. But tonight, it was just breezy, the rain stopped around the evening time and left behind numerous puddles.

Your eyes watched the scenery pass you by. The bus was going through a particularly sketchy area that you’d never want to step out in at this time of night. Not for any real reason other than, well, the vibes were off. It was that kind of area where you’d see mostly men, which was enough for you to avoid it. You could make out a bar and a motel a little further down. You wondered what would happen if you just got off the bus right now. It was going to stop anyway.

One small decision and maybe something would change.

It was an intriguing thought.

Mostly because it would make your numbness go away, even just momentarily. That was enough to convince you. Look at you, a thrill seeker.

Your body was getting up, before your mind could overthink and shit on your spontaneous plan. You walk to the door and hang on to the thin yellow pole as the bus comes to a halt. The doors slide open and you take a deep breath before calling out a “thank you” and stepping off.

The doors shut tight and the loud whir of the bus began fading into the background.

Now what?

It was chilly, probably around 9°, and you cursed under your breath for not wearing a warmer jacket. You turned your head to look around but didn’t see anyone outside.

Well, this was pointless.

But you wanted to feel something. Even if that feeling was fear or anxiety. It was stupid, but it would be worth it. This was like a test for you. An experiment.

You finally pick up your feet and begin walking towards the bar before you. A bright neon open sign was on display with the “E” flickering. You took your earbuds out, shoved them in your pocket, and pulled the door open.

It was exactly as you’d imagined; a little more barren though. Only a small group of older men huddled around the pool table to the left of the entrance. They all paused their game to size you up and you could tell they shared the same thought: you didn’t belong here.

But when you turn away to walk in further, they go back to focusing on the game. You hesitantly walk to the bar as all the tables had the chairs stacked on them.

You prop yourself up on the stool and look around. There was no bartender in sight, maybe they were busy with something else.

You sat there staring at the counter and drumming your fingers to the rhythm of some song you couldn’t remember the name of.

Your little recital stops when you hear a door swing open and eyes dart to the side at the sound, immediately widening.

Patrick Zweig?

Shit.

You hated seeing people from high school.

You were panicking which wasn’t numbness, but surprisingly worse.

Seeing old classmates made you regress to your teenager- self, whom you despised. She was puny and antisocial and all the things you wanted to convince yourself you weren’t anymore.

Usually in these situations, you’d either suck it up and shoot a tight lipped smile then go about your business, or you’d quickly run away before any interaction took place.

Seeing as this was Patrick Zweig, you settled for the latter.

But just as you were about to slip off the barstool, a voice called out and stopped you.

“Sorry, for the wait what can I get you?”

Shit. I should’ve just stayed on the bus.

You slowly look up and force a small smile, “no worries.” You paused to see any sign that maybe he’d cut you off and call you your name. But he didn’t.

Oh, he didn’t recognize you.

So you continue, “could I get the menu?”

He nods, “of course. But just so you know we already cleaned up the kitchen for the night, so a few of the items may not be available.”

He walks to the end of the counter and grabs a small lamented booklet off the top of a pile and places it in front of you.

You nod, mumble a thank you, and get to reading. It was awkward. You knew you hadn’t stood out much in high school, but you didn’t know it was to this extent. Were you that easy to forget? Was your presence really so insignificant?

Your eyes skimmed the page and you got hungrier as you read the options.

Should I get a grilled cheese with fries? Or a chicken sandwich?

“Quick question,” Patrick’s voice makes you snap your head up to meet his lively gaze. “Did you go to Gray Coast Secondary?”

He asked with a half- smile. It hadn’t changed at all, even after almost four years.

Your eyes widen slightly at the question.

So you weren’t a total nobody after all.

You nod almost like you wish it wasn’t so.

His eyes light up, “I knew it! I knew you looked familiar, it’s- I’m Patrick,” he points to himself and grins at you like he was genuinely happy to see you.

It made you feel… warm.

“I know,” you try to mirror his smile but your face wasn’t used to it.

He stared at you clearly waiting for you to introduce yourself because although he recognized your face, he had no idea what your name was.

“I’m Y/N,” you say after a beat of silence.

He repeats your name a few times and you laugh softly, liking the way it sounded coming from him. He said it so… relaxed. Casual. Like you were old pals.

“It’s been a while,” he walks over to the shelf grabbing you a glass and pours you some water. He puts it next to your arms on the counter and you smile at him.

“It has, yeah.” You weren’t sure what you else you could say. The antisocial trait made itself right at home inside you again.

He notices your lack of response but doesn’t mind. He just chuckles and asks if you know what you want to order.

“Oh, I think I’ll just get the grilled cheese.”

He nods, “Got it. Instead of the fries, do you think you could do wedges?”

“Sure, yeah.”

“And what can I get you to drink?”

You think for a moment and look at the menu again. You weren’t that experienced when it came to drinking, only ever trying wine, and one time a mimosa.

“I think I’m good for now.”

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Patrick disappears out the back and you assume there's a kitchen behind the doors. You stared down at your palms and noticed they were sweaty. Unsure why you were so nervous, you wipe them on your jeans and gulp down the water he brought earlier.

It was actually nice seeing a familiar face. You felt like you understood him because the two of you were a part of the very few kids from your graduating class who didn't move onto bigger things. You wondered if that disappointed him like it did you. Did he feel like a failure the way you often did? Sure, you were doing fine in university, but you just didn't feel anything about it. Your degree threw million hurdles your way, and although you got through them, you didn't come out stronger. You considered giving up at times, but what good would that do? There was no plan B.

You stare into the glass of water that you were chugging. It was almost empty. You swallow the rest and feel the cool liquid all throughout your neck and chest.

Patrick returns with a plate of your order in one hand, and two cold beers in the other.

Your stomach growled at the sight of the food and you felt your cheeks get hot from embarrassment. But, Patrick didn't draw attention to it and just set the plate down, along with the beer you didn't order.

"Bon appétit," he takes a bottle opener out of his pocket and pops the lid off of the two drinks.

"Thank you." You reach down and take a bite of a potato wedge.

Another silence came between you two. All you heard was the conversation of the men who were by the pool table. You could make out that they were bidding each other farewell.

You really hoped that wasn't the case because you didn't want to be left alone with Patrick.

"See you later, Patrick."

"Bye, kid."

Deep voices call out and you hear the creaky door open and close.

Great. Now you two really were alone.

You just keep your head down and take a bite of your sandwich. Oh, this is good. It had been a while since you'd eaten a hot meal. You were always in a rush and had to pack food everywhere you went, only to eat it cold when you got the chance.

"How's the sandwich?" Patrick asks you softly. He was clearly an extrovert, you thought.

You nod and swallow your current bite, "really good, thanks."

Met with more silence, you clear your throat and try to make conversation.

“So, how are you? I mean how’ve you been since uhm high school?” You avoided eye contact with him, not really understanding why.

He was happy to answer your question, and grabbed a small rag to wipe down the countertop.

“I’ve been great, actually. Yeah. I have my own place,” he says with a small smile on his face feeling a sense of pride. “I like working here too. The regulars are pretty nice.”

You listen attentively to his every word and were quite surprised at his answer. You thought that the both of you could bond over how shitty your lives are. ‘Misery loves company’ and all. A little pang of guilt struck you because you assumed that just because he was a little rough around the edges, he lived an unfulfilling dead-end life. No, that was just you.

“That’s— wow— that’s impressive. Good for you.” You take another, larger bite, of the sandwich.

Patrick snorts and you look up at him a little confused.

“That didn’t sound very genuine. You okay?”

You blinked, slightly worried, that maybe you’d somehow come across as bitter. That was the last thing you wanted. You truly were happy for him as it seemed that he’d turned his life around. But, it just made you think of your own situation.

The two of you were on opposite ends of the high-school-student spectrum. He was type B, never doing his homework, no extracurriculars, and honestly he was a dick to his teachers. He sold drugs for God’s sake, and everyone knew! You, on the other hand, were as goody two shoes as they come. Spending weekends buried in textbooks and assignments, working towards a bright future. The hours you put in got you into a good university, but now you were just so… unhappy.

That’s not what was supposed to happen. He was careless and irresponsible and was still doing way better than you. No! No! Your hard work was supposed to pay off! When would it pay off?

“Earth to Y/N?” Patrick stood on the other side of the bar counter waving his hand in front of you.

You snap out of your badgering thoughts.

“Sorry,” you take a sip of water, “I’m just tired.”

He didn’t buy it. And he was always shamelessly nosy, which was something his friends found annoying but forgave when he’d apologize with his charming half-smile.

“Oh that’s bullshit. Come on, you can tell me.” Patrick puts the rag in a little basket below the counter and walks around the bar. Your eyes follow him as he pulls up a stool next to you. Not too close, but a very comfortable distance. You liked it. From an outsider, you would’ve looked like friends.

You take in a deep breath and decide to tell him anyway. There was nothing to lose. After tonight, you’d go back to your life and he’d go back to his. You’d never get off at this bus stop again.

“I guess I’m just a little surprised. Uhm- you were- in high school you were kind of…” you couldn’t string together a coherent sentence that didn’t make you sound like an asshole. You clear your throat, “just didn’t seem like you were going anywhere.”

Oh God, had you forgotten manners?

Patrick’s brows shoot up and his smile fades a little but not fully. He wasn’t offended, he knew you didn’t mean to hurt him. You were genuinely curious. But he couldn’t resist the urge to tease you about it.

“Shit, Y/N— you sound like my Dad." He reaches out and grabs one of two bottles on the counter. He pops the lid off of it and takes a swig.

You stayed quiet.

You saw his parents once in the hallway during parent teacher conferences. They were quite the opposite of him. Walking from classroom to classroom with a sense of purpose. The type of people you'd see and immediately step to the side to not get in the way. They were intimidating and you could picture Patrick sitting next to them, while his math teacher was red in the face complaining about how disruptive he was. His parents would sit there and politely listen to Mr. Murphy, and would shoot glares at Patrick every other minute.

His Father had a permanent scowl settled on his face. Is that who he was comparing you to? Shit.

You force an apologetic smile, trying to show him that you weren't all bad. You look down at your plate and finish the sandwich.

"I think I'm just kind of angry these days," you said each word super spaced out, like it was a sinful confession.

"At who? Me?" He tilts his head. Eyes twinkling under the dim lights.

You shake your head, "At the world... at myself."

The beer bottle he brought you earlier was having a staring contest with you. You weren't much of a drinker and didn't want to indulge since you had no idea how you'd get home tonight. But, after deciding that tomorrow you wouldn't go to class, you grabbed the bottle and brought it to your lips.

Patrick nods, thoughtfully.

"I don't know. It's just that everyone seems to be moving onto bigger, better things— you know? Like," you take a gulp feeling it move down your throat. You didn't care for the taste. You scrunch your nose at the strong taste. Patrick chuckles.

"Like there's this ladder, and everyone is climbing it. Step-by-step, they all accomplish small things and get closer to- to becoming well rounded individuals."

Patrick leans in and rests his chin on his palm. He was listening to your every word and soaking in the sound of your voice. So gentle and soft, with a little rasp on the edges— you sounded exhausted.

"And I was on that ladder," you pause and eat one of the salty wedges. "until, I got to this one rung, and it was like faulty." You take a shaky breath in, feeling your eyes beginning to water. But you didn't feel the need to freak out and change the subject. You were comfortable around him. It really was easier to confide in strangers. "It broke off the second my foot landed on it. And, right away, I fell off."

You stare off into a space, "And at first, I tried to grab onto something—anything— to catch myself. But it was all air. And I feel like I've just been falling since."

You let out a heavy sigh and quickly rub your eyes, glad that there wasn't too much moisture.

"You think too much." Patrick says after a while.

Your face fell further at that comment, so Patrick quickly chimed in, "That's just what everyone experiences in their 20s. We're all lost, Y/N. People are just really fucking good hiding it."

He was right, but you were so deep into your self-loathing that his words went in one ear and out the other.

You finish the wedges and wash them down with the cold beer.

"So, is this it?" You cough, awkwardly, wanting to shift the subject from you to him.

"Elaborate." He tilts his head leaning further on his palm.

"This. Like is this your plan?" You sniffle and gesture to the whole bar. "Bartending forever… mixing drinks… forcing conversations with your coworkers until, well, the inevitable happens."

He snickers, "hm, well I’m only 24. So, I’m sure I’ll figure something else out. I don’t plan on settling down just yet anyway."

"Gotcha." You take another sip of your drink. It was starting to go down easier, and you didn't mind the taste all that much anymore. Or maybe you were too distracted by the fuzzy feeling Patrick had stirring inside you. It was truly something: how being seen could make you want to live.

"And you?" He grabs your empty plate and walks around the counter to rinse it in the sink. He leaves it there, reminding himself to wash it first thing tomorrow morning. He turns back to you and wipes his hands on his jeans. "Do you plan on just being a tortured academic… days and nights wearing a snow-white lab coat… until you spill—what?— like hydrochloric acid on yourself, and the inevitable happens."

That pulls a genuine laugh out of you, "Yeah, cause of death: hydrochloric acid. You're funny." You shake your head. "I mean who knows though, right? Anything is possible."

"Yeah," Patrick walks back to you, pulls the barstool closer, and sits on it with his knees touching yours. "But then you can join me— down there."

Your smile widens and you scoff, "I am not going to hell, Patrick." You reach over and jokingly push his shoulder causing him to giggle. "Not that I believe in heaven or hell but if they exist— I’m going to Heaven." You shrug cockily and he quirks an eyebrow, entertained by your sudden playfulness.

You continue, "I mean, just yesterday, I gave this kid— he lost some money his mom gave him for ice cream and he was crying with like snot everywhere— I gave him money. Bought him a nice, cold rocket pop. So if anyone up there was watching, I’m pretty sure I secured my seat."

Patrick was finding you infatuating now. He plays along and nods. "Yeah I’m sure that’s all it takes for a nice warm welcome at the pearly gates."

"It is," you exclaim, almost jumping out of your seat. Almost. You didn't want to move because you'd miss the feeling of his knees bumping against yours. "But in your case I mean… selling drugs? Yeah, you should pack for a hot climate."

You instantly regret mentioning it when his nose twitches at your words, like he wasn't glad to be reminded of his side-business. He shrugs, "I don’t know. I feel like no matter what you do to make money... it'll always be somewhat unethical— whether it’s directly or indirectly." He takes a big gulp of the beer, tilting his head back. He had a nice neck.

"Yeah, that’s true." you reply softly.

A silence fills the bar. Not an uncomfortable one because you found yourself at ease around Patrick. You never thought this is where your night would take you. Drinking beers with an old classmate. One whom you never got close to. One whom you just observed from the sidelines, worrying he was too cool for you. This moment felt like a movie— picturesque.

Before you knew it, you were speaking up again.

"Why didn’t you ever talk to me in high school?"

His eyebrows knit together like he had no idea what you were talking about. "What? That’s not true."

"It is." You chug down the rest of the beer, placing the empty bottle next to you. "I mean, even today, you didn’t remember my name."

"I’m not good with names."

You narrow your eyes, not believing him. "Fine, but answer my question."

Patrick finishes his beer too. He shrugs, "Why didn’t you ever talk to me?"

You scoff at his avoidance of the question. "I would've. You know I was assigned to be your tutor right? For calculus?

To your surprise, he nods.

"I waited everyday, dude. Well— every week. Mondays and Wednesdays. I was in the library for an hour." You emphasize, "And not once did you show up. I even fell asleep and the librarian was like shaking me awake." You bring your hand to Patrick's thigh and shake it, making him laugh. "She was livid. Lectured me about how the library is for learning and that I insulted her and all the books in there. It was horrible!"

He snorts and places his hand on top of yours before you could pull it back. It was warmer than yours. It felt natural, and you didn't feel all that panicky about literally resting your hand on his thigh. Maybe it was the liquor.

"I know. She always had a chip on her shoulder." He stares down at his hand on yours and rubs slow circles with his index finger.

"So? Why didn’t you come?" You press him for an answer you'd wondered for an embarrassingly long time.

"I did. But I never had the- the guts to walk in."

Your eyes widen and your hands reflexively tighten on his thigh. "Really? Why?"

"I don’t know." Patrick smiles softly at your shocked expression. "I've always hated asking for help. And I was ashamed. Or, embarrassed. I mean you— a girl who's a younger than me— would be teaching me about the absolute value of whatever the fuck. It was just embarrassing. So, instead, I just switched out of that math. Did an easier one. Passed it— but barely."

Another moment of silence envelopes you two. Feeling ashamed and dumb were all too familiar to you. You understood exactly where he was coming from.

"It’s all in the past now but … if it’s any consolation, I don’t think it’s embarrassing at all. I mean no one’s good at everything. We all have to get help from others where we can. It’s just— I don’t know. It’s human."

He nods.

You nod.

And then you're both leaning in.

You weren't thinking about anything. It was the first time in years where your mind was vacant. All you wanted was to feel his rosy lips on yours— the rest didn't matter.

Patrick, on the other hand, was intrigued the second he laid his eyes on you. When you weren't looking, he was using the opportunity to check you out. Respectfully, of course. He had been hoping that something would transpire between you two. Something that would make him feel like a carefree teenager again.

Your lips met and you melted into him. You hand moved up his thigh while his came up to cup your cheek. It was so sweet. You felt your eyes moisten underneath your lids. He tilted his head to get a better angle and kissed you deeper. You parted your lips and his tongue came out to find yours.

You wanted him closer and you kept trying to bring yourself forward until your shaky stool tipped forward causing you to stumble onto him.

You gasp, scared that you were going to fall but Patrick's quick movements had his hands wrapped around you, holding you still. You were disappointed that your kiss was interrupted but Patrick's breathy laugh washed that away.

"You okay?" He unwraps his arms and brings his fingers to your chin to tilt it up. Your glossy eyes meet his.

"Yeah," you whisper.

"You wanna get out of here?" Patrick leans down and softly pecks your cheek.

You were nodding before he finished asking and he chuckled at your eagerness.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._..

Patrick locked the bar up and the two of you staggered your way down the road to the motel. The vacancy sign was lit bright with big red neon letters but that didn't make the place seem inviting. However, in that moment, you didn't want to be anywhere else. In that moment, you realized you'd go to the ends of the Earth with Patrick.

He holds the door open for you and you both walk right up to the tired looking concierge. An older women with short hair who was engrossed with her computer— probably playing solitaire.

She was cold, not bothering to acknowledge the two of you even when you were clearly waiting for her attention.

Patrick clears his throat, and the lady lets out a sigh finally turning to face you both.

“Yeah?” She brings her cigarette to her lips.

“Could we get a single room, please?” Patrick reaches into his pocket and fishes out his wallet.

The concierge’s skeptical eyes look you up and down and then Patrick.

“We don’t charge by the hour,” she blows out a puff of smoke.

Your face heats up and your jaw drops at her gratuitous remark.

“Excuse me? Do I look like a—”

Patrick wrap his arm around your waist in a comforting manner and forces a laugh to cut you off. He wanted to kiss you more tonight (and maybe do some other things) and he knew that bitching at the concierge would only hurt his chances.

“Single room. Please.”

She scoffs and types something into the computer while you clenched your jaw out of anger, still not over her comment.

Reaching over the counter, she hands Patrick a key with a worn out key chain. He mutters a ‘thanks’ and hands her his card.

After the transaction is over, he pulls you along to the room and you two whisper about the displeasing interaction.

“I’m literally carrying my backpack- like I couldn’t look more innocent.” You laugh.

“She just wanted to fuck with us,” Patrick unlocks the door and ushers you into the room.

The room was a little smaller than you expected. Fit for two people and no more than that. The curtains draping the windows had a few cigarette burns along with a mysterious yellow-ish stain. And the bed? The bed didn’t look comfortable at all. Just a mattress with a thin cover and a blanket folded in half, at the foot of it. Your head snaps to the wall across from the door when you hear the plumbing creak when someone flushed next door. You weren’t expecting the Ritz or anything but come on!

“Home sweet home,” Patrick drops his bag and walks over to the bathroom, opening the door.

You grin and go to sit on the edge of the bed. Hands clasped in your lap, like you were getting ready to pray.

Your eyes wander to Patrick’s bag on the floor and a question crosses your mind.

Just then, Patrick opens the door and begins washing his hands.

“Patrick?” You call out as you stared at the bag.

“Mhm?” He turns off the tap and dries his hand on the beige hand towels.

“You still deal, right?”

He walks back into the room and finds you staring at his bag.

“I do. But it’s mostly a side thing now. Just until I start saving enough from bartending.”

You turn your head slowly to face him, “what do you have on you right now?”

He freezes not expecting you to bring any of this up. Were you asking just out of curiosity? Or because you wanted to get high? He really hoped the latter wasn’t true. He wanted you. He wanted you to be fully there and to remember tonight. Patrick had slept with many people under the influence, and as fun as it was then, he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted real connection— real emotion.

He shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, “I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

"I was thinking," you turn to look at him, "maybe you could give me something. I'll pay, of course."

Patrick resists the urge to roll his eyes. Is that really all you saw him as? Even after the conversation back at the bar?

"I uh... I don't know, Y/N." He chokes out a chuckle, feeling a little nervous.

You furrow your eyebrows and stand up, "what? Why? I told you I'd pay."

"I heard you," He snaps.

Taking matters into your own hands, you stride over to his bag and pick it up. You didn't understand why you were being so stubborn. But the tipsy effect of the beer was wearing off and you could feel yourself reverting back to your miserable self.

You'd never tried anything before— besides an edible once, but it just made you anxious because, well, of course it did. You wanted something stronger, but didn't know where to find it. Now that Patrick was in front of you, you knew you should at least try.

His eyes widen as you pick up his bag so he crosses the room and yanks it out of your grip.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" His knuckles turned white as his tightened his grasp on the bag.

You scoff, "what? What’s the big deal?"

Patrick doesn't respond right away and just stares at you in disapproval. As if you weren't aware of how pathetic you were being.

You really didn't have anything to lose though. So you reached out for his bag again and wrapped your hand around of the of the straps. Frustration clouds his mind and, without thinking, he shoves you away. It catches you off guard and you trip over your foot and your rear lands on floor with a thud.

You were shocked and stared at the floor as tears brimmed your eyes. Humiliation creeps under every inch of your skin. You wished you'd never gotten off the bus.

Patrick gasps and drops the bag, quickly making his way over to you. He squats next to you.

"Fuck, are you okay? I didn't mean to do that— I'm so sorry." He brings his hand up to your cheek to brush the hair out of your eyes, but you swat it away.

He backs off for now. But when he notices the drops of tears streaming down your face, he reaches out and wipes them with his thumb without hesitation. You let him.

A few seconds passed and you only cried harder. Your body trembled and Patrick wrapped both his arms around you, rubbing your back and kissing the top of your head.

Your hand claps around his forearm and he can feel your fingers digging into his flesh. He didn't mind.

After a few moments, you felt that your sorrow was enough. You pull away from him and wipe your face on your sleeve. You take deep breaths trying to calm your racing heart and Patrick continues rubbing your back.

“I wasn’t always like this, you know?" You choke out. Your voice was hoarse and your throat stung as you spoke, "I used to be a whole- a whole person. I was so full. My mom told me the other day, that I was a very happy kid,” Your hands were shaking and Patrick brings them hands into his. He leans down and places soft kisses on your knuckles. “I don't know what happened. I mean, I can’t remember the last time I felt even like a sliver— a fucking lick of satisfaction.”

His heart was breaking at the sight. He wanted to make you laugh again, like he did before. He wanted to make you feel better. Maybe, give you a taste of that satisfaction you craved.

"This is just a rough patch, Y/N. Soon, it'll be a blurry memory." Patrick's words did a good job soothing you.

You nod and slowly pick yourself up off the floor. Patrick's hands instantly fly up to your hips to help you.

"I should- I think I should go."

Patrick quickly stands up and shakes his head, "no- no. Stay, come on." He places his hands on your waist, gently. He'd do anything to make you stay.

You blow out a huff of air, “I just- I made things so fucking weird.”

“No, no you didn’t.” He pulls you closer until both of you were against each other. You had to tilt your head quite far back to see him. He brings one of his hands up to caress your cheek.

After a moment of thinking he gathers the courage to say, “I want to help you. But— not by giving you something— I… I want to make you feel good.” You could feel his breath on the tip of your nose.

Your eyes were filled with tears and desperation. Patrick notices your bottom lip quiver and brings his thumb to brush it.

You gulp and nod slowly, "make me feel like I'm human."

That's all he needed to hear. Patrick's hands drop to your face and grasp your wrists, pulling you towards the bed. Your feet drag on the floor and your eyes stayed lost in his. You were entranced. The vulnerability you showed him didn't scare him away. If anything, it only made him want you more. He could handle you.

"Lay down for me." He says lowly.

The motel room didn't seem all that dingy anymore. It felt comfortable, and you didn't want to be anywhere else. You don't know how you'd return to your dull life after tonight.

You did as you were told. No thoughts in your mind because this was something you were sure you wanted. There was no doubt in your mind, for the first time... ever. You crawl onto the bed and lay down with your head on the pillow, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

Patrick walks to the foot of the bed and reaches forward to take your shoes off. You look down, surprised at his action. It felt too domestic, like you guys had been together for years and he'd done it many times before. When he finishes untying your sneakers, he pulls them off your feet and tosses them onto the floor.

Patrick, then, kicks off his own shoes and finally climbs onto the bed. He crawls on to and hovers over you, staring at your lips. This time, you took the lead and pulled him down by his collar into a kiss. He immediately kisses back and you both fall back into the rhythm that you had perfected earlier. Your back was beginning to arch and your pelvis rubbed against his growing erection. Patrick pulled away to exhale shakily into your neck. He needed to calm down because tonight was about you. Not him.

He backs off and you try to pull him back against you. But he was stronger and moves down until he comes face to face with the hem of your jeans. Without wasting time, he unbuttons them and impatiently pulls them off. You lift your hips to assist him for which he shoots you a small smile. You blush and let your head fall back on the pillow.

Patrick tosses the jeans onto the floor too and licks his lips at the sight of your panties. They were simple, dark blue. No bows, no lace, just plain cotton. But right now, he couldn't imagine anything hotter.

He tests the waters and brings his thumb up to rub you through the thin fabric. You instantly gasp and push yourself against him, chasing the friction. Patrick loved how reactive you were.

He didn't want to tease you; he was here to give you exactly what you wanted. He hooks his fingers on the hem of your panties and tugs them off too.

You inhaled deeply, a little embarrassed for when he sees how wet you are. You could even feel a drop of your arousal dribble down your pussy.

Without hesitation, Patrick dives in and buries his face in you. He wanted to be covered in your wetness. You gasp and almost clamp your legs shut but he stops you by gripping your thighs to keep them apart. He was freakishly strong, and you had to stop struggling.

He lapped up all your juices and his nose brushed against your clit as he did. You had your eyes shut tight and your back arched as you moaned a string of curses that you would never say out loud. Your hands busied themselves by clutching the bedsheets so tightly, the wrinkles would never come out. Patrick let go of your thighs and reached up to your sides to interlock his fingers with yours. It was so intimate you realized you'd never felt this close with anyone before.

"Oh my God, Patrick- fuck!" your fingernails dug into the back of his hands and he hoped there would be crescent shaped marks left behind. Proof that tonight wasn't a dream.

His tongue worked skillfully as he fucked your core. Patrick was confident. He'd made plenty of girls cum by just his mouth or fingers.

He pulls back and you let out a cry missing the stimulation.

"Look at me, Y/N."

Your eyes were half closed and your body was exhausted. You try to raise your head to look at him. Patrick's hands let go of yours and places them under your thighs. He, then, lifts them up so they rest on his shoulders. You gasp and prop yourself up on your elbows to stare down at him.

"Please," you say, breathlessly.

He obeys and, this time, goes after your clit. Licking and biting like a starved man. Your response was a lot more intense this time. Your head falls back with a whimper from the built up pleasure. Patrick looks up through his eyebrows and slaps your thigh, leaving a red mark. Your eyes shoot open and you face him with shock etched on your face.

"I told you to look at me. I wanna see your face when I make you cum."

You nod quickly like you were apologizing and assuring him you'd never make the mistake again. He returns his attention back to your pussy and spits on it. His tongue was back and swirling around your clit like he was memorizing your taste. Your legs twitched.

The small room was filled with sounds of your mewls and the squelching of your pussy against Patrick's tongue. You worried that maybe you were being too loud but Patrick didn't seem to mind. You didn't notice your noises alone had given him a hard-on. He wanted to ignore it but then his hips started rubbing against the mattress.

Patrick's tongue moves quicker, flicking your clit and making your legs twitch out of control.

"I'm gonna- Patrick, I'm gonna cum," you could barely finish your sentence before the knot in your stomach bursts and you feel yourself release on his lips. You cry and your elbows give out. Your heads hits the pillow and you close your eyes because the room was spinning.

Patrick groans when he reaches his finish too. He pushes himself against the mattress one last time and then licks your pussy clean.

You both pant after the euphoric orgasms you shared. A few seconds pass, and Patrick climbs onto the bed and drops down next to you.

Neither of you say anything. But you knew he didn't regret it because you didn't either. If you went back in time and told your high-school self that you'd one day hook up with Patrick Zweig, would she believe you?

Something told you that this wasn't just a hook up, though. You saw Patrick for who he was now, and you liked it. He was a good person and he made you feel alive.

You were so glad you got off the bus.

.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._.._

Thank you for being patient with me!

This is now the longest fic I’ve written so far!!

Thank you for reading, as always <33

#challengers #challengers fic #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig angst #challengers smut #challengers fanfiction #josh o'connor

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