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gretavangroupie · 2 months ago

Text

Still, Us

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 30.7k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Begging, Heartbreak, Sadness, Crying, Talks of Marriage, Touching, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Masturbation, and More.

Listen to the Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Wow this has been a long time coming. Sorry that I have been a little bit MIA lately, it was never my intention, life got crazy! I hope you will accept this as an apology. I have poured into this for weeks and I truly couldn’t have done it without the constant support from @gretavanmoon and @jakeyt. They have given me the drive to keep going even when I felt like giving up. This story would not have happened without them. Period. Anyway, I hope you like it and will accept my apology for being away so long. I have so much more planned for you all and I cannot wait to deliver. As always thank you so much for every comment, like, and reblog. It means so much to me to know that you enjoy my writing. ❤️

Frankenmuth, Michigan

May 2014

“Jake, can you please turn it down just a little bit?” you plead, your feet propped up on the dashboard, and your hand hanging leisurely out the car window. The warm air feels magical as it glides through your fingers. You’d both been waiting for the warmer weather to blow through town and it was finally here.

You turn to look at Jake, his brown shaggy hair finally growing out like he wanted, just barely dusting over the tops of his shoulders now as it blows around him in the wind.

“Turn down ‘Shooting Star’? Bad Company? Come on Pops, you know that’s not gonna happen,” he smirks, looking at you over the tops of his wayfarers. “This is like the story of my life.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you smile, watching him dramatically mouth the words to you as you coast up 83 towards your house. Jake is your best friend, has been for ten years now, and as you readied yourself for college life, he continued to pursue the dream he’s had since you’d known him, but now bringing his brothers into it with him.

“It’s hardly the story of your life,” you quip, “Maybe the life you wish you had.” you tease, elbowing him in the arm over the center console.

He laughs as he purses his lips, and pushes you away, “Yeah you say that now, but watch. We are getting that damn record deal, I don’t care what it takes.”

You turned to look at him again as the two of you pulled off the freeway and headed toward your exit. He believed it. He truly did, and you believed that he would do exactly as he said. He has always been that way. Some would say he is hard headed, but you would say he is just determined.

“I know, I know,” you start, being quickly cut off.

“You’re still coming right?” he urges, looking at you before looking back at the now green stoplight.

“Of course I’m still coming!” you laugh, “I pledged twenty bucks to be there, remember?!”

“Damn right, and you better be in the front where I can see you,” he grins, “Or should I say, where you can see me.”

You roll your eyes at him again, watching the shit eating grin stretch across his face. “You're so full of yourself Jacob Thomas, it's gonna get you in trouble one of these days, and I'm not gonna be there to save you.”

He puts his hand over his heart and looks absolutely offended by your comment, “Save me? Baby doll, you know I don’t need saving. You need saving. From yourself.”

“Oh really? How so?” you ask, challenging him with a quirk of your brow.

He smirks as he keeps his eyes on the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, “You’re headed to college to be some hot shot lawyer or something. You’re way too cool for that, Pops. You should stick with me and the guys.”

You groan as he pitches his grand idea to you for the hundredth time.

“Seriously. You can do so many other things. You can tour, party, see the world, instead of sitting in some bleak office building reading dusty law books all day.” he says matter of factly.

“Jake…” you whine, knowing this conversation always goes nowhere and leaves your mind a mess of emotions.

He sighs as his car comes to a stop in the driveway of your parents house. He looks over to you, and his voice is stern, “I’m serious Poppy. You’re a freebird, you’re not cut out for that boring life. I know it.”

You cut your eyes at him as you twist in the seat to face him, “So instead I can be some groupie, waiting on you guys hand and foot, cleaning up beer cans, and holding your hair back when you puke in some nasty bar bathroom? No thanks.”

He huffs in annoyance, “You know damn well that you'd be more than that. You'd be like…an honorary member of the band. You're not really the groupie type. You're far too good for that.” he says, twisting a lock of your messy hair over your shoulder. You can't help but to feel heat start to creep up your chest from the simple gesture.

“You think so?” You ask timidly, your eyes locked in on his tawny brown eyes.

His demeanor softens, and his finger twirls around the same lock of hair, “Poppy you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the smartest, toughest and coolest chick I’ve ever met. You are so much more than just some groupie.”

The nickname he gave you sounds different somehow– sweeter, maybe, in this moment. In an effort to quickly break the mounting tension growing between the two of you, you nudge him hard in the arm, “You going soft on me, Kiszka?”

He laughs in response, his fingers releasing the lock of your hair and running them through his own before bringing it to rest on the steering wheel, “I may be many things, P, but soft is not one of them.” he grins playfully. “Now get out, I’ve got practice in ten minutes.”

You scoff and toss the passenger door open, grabbing your tattered bookbag on the way. As you shut the door he leans over the center console to look at you through the open window, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“You know it’s just because I’m gonna miss you, Pops. More than I care to admit.” he confesses.

“I know, Jake.” you answer, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I'll miss you too.”

“Good. Oh, don’t forget I can’t pick you up tomorrow morning. We’re heading straight to Groovebox after classes to set up.” he says, flipping his glasses back down.

“I remember,” you say with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t be late, Y/N,” he says sternly, lifting a brow.

“Rich coming from you,” you taunt, beginning to walk to your front door.

“M’never late, just running on my own time,” he winks. “Catch up with you later, P,” he says finally, pulling away as Bad Company begins blasting through the speakers once more.

—

Jake 8:57 PM: which shirt should I wear tomorrow

You 8:58 PM: Um, maybe that denim button down you like? With the pearl buttons?

Jake 8:59 PM: it’s dirty

You 9:00 PM: Ok uhhhh, what about that colorful shirt with the aztec looking patterns on it

Jake 9:00 PM: do you think that will look good on camera

You 9:01 PM: Yes

Jake 9:02 PM: do you think I should like, iron it or whatever

You 9:03 PM: Do rockstars iron their clothes?

Jake 9:04 PM: see you tomorrow ;)

The air is a bit cooler now that the sun has set, the wind whipping right through your thin shirt as you reach for the door handle to Groovebox Studios. Tonight was the night, finally. This has been all Jake has talked about for weeks and weeks on end. Tonight they would record seven songs, live, in front of all of their friends and family, and anyone else that pledged enough money to be there. It had been grueling listening to Jake torture himself over what songs they would choose to record tonight, but they finally narrowed it down. At least, you hoped they did since everyone was here and waiting.

As you entered into the lobby it was bustling with familiar faces, all waiting to step into the studio to watch the session. You could hear the guys warming up through the wall, the wail of Jake's guitar immediately sticking out to you. You could also hear the crashing of the cymbals as Danny tested his kit and the deep thrum of Sam’s bass. You nervously picked at your fingernails as you waited to be let inside, eager to see the guys, but mostly Jake. You needed him to know you were here, on time, at that.

A few minutes later the large double doors opened and everyone filed into the small studio. You weren’t really sure what to expect but there were bright lights, and cameras everywhere, scattered between recording equipment and wires. Jake hadn’t noticed you were here just yet, but you saw him immediately in the shirt the two of you decided on last night. Something about that made you warm inside but you forced it back down where it came from. It was Jake. It wasn’t like that. Right?

The first song began, the guys seeming completely relaxed and not at all phased by the large equipment and people surrounding them, watching their every move. Josh’s voice was as strong and confident as Danny’s drums. Finally, Jake looked up from his guitar and let his eyes scan the crowd. A small and relieved smile filled his face as his eyes met yours. A small nod of his head said everything you knew he wanted to say, seeing you there supporting him in the front row of people. You knew that being there meant a lot to him, and gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed to make it through this set.

You were completely transfixed watching him play, giving everything he had for those seven songs. It seemed to fly by in a flash, the show ending with all four guys sweaty and a little winded. The crowd that showed up for them broke out into a round of cheers and applause as you all marveled at the budding talent in front of you. You watched as Jake placed his guitar in the stand and moved towards the producers of the show, thanking them profusely as he shook their hands.

Immediately after that though, his eyes found you. He walked straight towards you, ignoring everyone else around, wrapping you in a sweaty hug.

“Well, P, you made it on time,” he grins, pulling you in tight against him, your head resting against his chest. He smelled of sweat, cologne and faintly of smoke and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your knees just a little bit weak.

“How was it?” he panted, “Sound alright?”

You laugh pulling away from his grip, “Jake, that was amazing! Of course it sounded alright.”

He smiles as you pull away, fidgeting with the tip of his nose, “Yeah? You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re my best friend, right?” he says with his signature smirk.

“When have I ever sugar coated anything, Jacob?” you taunt.

He laughs as he playfully runs his hand through his damp hair, “Valid point.” he smirks, looking around briefly, “Stay right here for a sec. Don’t go, just need to go say hi to some people. Wait, you’re comin’ to the house right?”

“Is this you inviting me?” you tease, knowing you never need an invitation at the Kiszka household.

He rolls his eyes, not playing into your little game one bit, “Yes, I’m inviting you smartass. Like you even need an invite.”

You nod your head and shoo him away to go talk to the people who came out to support him, but you can't help but feel special that you were the first person he wanted to see after such a big night.

You watch as he moves from person to person, saying his hellos, shaking hands and talking about the show with each one. He was his normal, charismatic self, except for the small glances over to where you were waiting. It was as if he didn’t want you to go anywhere without checking on you every so often. You’re able to find a quiet corner of the studio to relax for a moment, and you find yourself watching him like he’s the only thing in the room.

He is still surrounded by everyone, laughing and talking. He is so in his element, being the center of attention. You're happy for him, he deserves it, but you find it a little annoying how every girl's eyes were glued to him. No matter how many times you push these thoughts away, they keep resurfacing. It's all in your head, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake the idea of being anything more than friends with him, yet you can't help the fluttering in your chest.

Twenty minutes later he is walking back over to you, the crowd of people slowly beginning to filter out as the rest of the guys begin to tear down their equipment.

He comes to stand next to you, and his face is a bit more solemn now, the adrenaline from the show now long gone. “So I’ll see you at the house?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Just gotta pack up real quick, then make a quick beer stop then we will be home.”

“Beer stop? Did you forget we are 18?” you laugh.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Did you forget I have a fake ID?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Plus, I heard Sara Matthews is working tonight, and she won’t question it.”

“Getting started on the whole bad boy rock and roll thing early, huh…”

He lets out a laugh as he gathers his guitar cables from the floor and slings them over his shoulder, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a bad boy for a long time now, baby doll.”

An hour and a half later you’re finally back in Frankenmuth and turning onto his street. You can see a few cars parked outside the house but you don’t see their van just yet. You laugh to yourself wondering if Jake was busted for his fake ID yet, or if Sara still had that crush on him from fourth grade. When you see the familiar set of headlights behind you, you know it's the latter.

The van comes screeching around the corner, sliding into the driveway and nearly taking out the mailbox. You laugh, recognizing Josh’s driving anywhere. He cuts the engine and jumps from the driver's seat with a grin. Jake slips out of the back door, pulling his guitar case from the backseat, his other hand holding a twelve-pack. Wordlessly, he trots up to your car, nodding at you to join him as he makes his way across the lawn and into the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.

You slowly walk up the steps, a weird feeling starting to settle in your stomach as you enter through the front door. Music is already blaring from the basement, and the loud hum of multiple people chatting is growing louder the further you walk. You take in a deep breath as you turn the corner into the living room. A giant group is already gathered around, sipping drinks and mingling in the dimly lit room. Your eyes scan the sea of people and you recognize some of the faces from the studio, and the rest are most likely here just to party.

Your eyes scan the room for Jake, wondering where he took off to, but then you see him come bounding down the stairs in a clean blue t-shirt and a smile. He makes a beeline straight for you, his eyes locked on yours as he navigates the crowd. He finally reaches you, his hand landing on your shoulder and ushering you away from the crowd of people. “Come here,” he murmurs under his breath as he drags you down the hall towards the kitchen.

You follow behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and you know he is dead set on enjoying his well deserved twelve-pack. As predicted he takes out two cans, popping the tabs and handing one to you. “Well, let's toast.”

You take the silver can from him, cold in your hand, “Okay, let’s…”

He lifts his beer up towards you with a smirk, his eyes locked on yours, “I guess I just want to say thank you for putting up with all of this the last few years, I know it hasn’t been easy,” he grins, his eyes raking over you, “You put up with a lot of bullshit from me, but even after all of that you’re still here.”

You tap your can to his, “Where else would I be?” you breathe.

He takes a moment to study your face, his eyes tracing over your cheeks, your nose, your chin as they land on your own eyes. The two of you silently stand next to each other, the sounds of the rest of the party still loud and present from the other room, and you can nearly feel his heart beating against his chest from where you’re standing. The unspoken feelings rushing between the two of you are almost palpable. He doesn’t answer your question, instead choosing to remain quiet as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

You pull the can to your lips, sipping at the bubbly beverage, only slightly wincing at the taste.

He laughs watching you try to drink the beer, trying to hide the grimace as the hops tickle your taste-buds, “It’s an acquired taste, Pops.” he grins, “And you’re going to have to get used to it before you get to college.”

You sigh, “It's not like college is some big party. I doubt it's like the movies.”

He laughs, resting his can on the counter next to him, “Sure it is. Beer flows like waterfalls, parties happening every day, you’ll even have a couple different flings I bet–” he pauses for a moment, his expression growing serious, “Just have fun, Pops. Get the full college experience.”

“I'll try, but I have to take this seriously. Definitely no flings or beer waterfalls or whatever.” you answer, skirting around that subject the best you can.

“Well yeah, take things seriously, but don’t count yourself out of a little fun, too.” he says, resting his palm behind his head. He’s quiet for a moment before he continues, “Maybe you’ll meet some fancy law student…fall in love and get married and all that.”

“I don’t know, Jake…” You say nervously. “That’s not why I’m going to college.” Why in the world were you two talking about this? You could feel your cheeks growing warm. Doesn’t he know that the only future you’ve ever planned is the one with him in it?

He raises an eyebrow at your flushed expression, “What’s wrong Pops, planning out your dream life as we speak?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, “No, Jake.” you grit out. “Can we like…go party or are we gonna stand here and play twenty questions about my love life all night?”

He raises his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine, we can go join those losers.” he murmurs, pushing himself off the counter. He lifts his hand in the air, motioning to the living room, “After you.”

A few hours later you find yourself laying on the basement floor in a pile of blankets, your mind hazy and free as you bask in the feeling of the alcohol swirling through your veins. Jake is laying next to you in a similar state, staring up at the warm string lights strung across the walls. Josh, Sam, and Danny are already passed out on the other side of the room, their snoring turning into a symphony as usual. Your body feels warm and weightless as you turn your head to the side to look at Jake.

He notices your movement, turning to face you, a small smile on his face as he watches you, a long empty can of beer clutched lazily in his hand. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t entirely with it considering you’ve lost count of how many beers he’s had since the party started. He lets out a small laugh, the kind he’s only capable of making when he’s like this, “You know what I just remembered?” he slurs, his words coming out slowly.

“What?” you answer, pursing your lips.

He grins, “Remember when we were kids, we’d sit on the edge of Cass River and throw rocks into the water for hours…‘til the sun would go down…” he mumbles, his gaze trained on the blue blanket beneath him. “We’d talk for hours, and it was just…So peaceful. We were best friends–” he trails off, running his tongue over his lower lip.

You nod, his words causing a slight tingle in your stomach as your own mind begins to wander. He is still watching you, his eyes traveling over your face, over your hair before he speaks again, “And we’re still best friends now…right?”

“Yeah of course we are, Jake. Me going to college isn’t going to change that.” you answer softly, seeing the worry painted across his face.

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on him, “I know. I know, I just…” he pauses, his thoughts coming a little slower now, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you here. I’m used to you bein’ around, it’s gonna feel weird…different.”

“It’s not like I’ll never come home, and you can call me and text me whenever you want. You know that. Where is all of this coming from, Jake?”

He sighs, his eyes dropping from your face and looking instead at the ceiling, “I dunno, I just…I guess I’m realizing it a bit more now that it’s actually about to happen. You’re going to school hundreds of miles away, with other people…other guys, and I won’t be there to keep those idiots in check.”

You giggle a little, the thought of him fending off guys a little humorous. “I already told you, I’m not going to college looking for guys. I’m going to become a lawyer, and I have to focus on the LSAT and getting into law school and everything else. Guys are going to be the last thing on my mind.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, “I know, Pops. That wasn’t my point.” he mutters before rolling onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at you, “I’m just worried about you, okay? I don’t want some douchey frat guy to come up and ruin everything…”

“Ruin what?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he looks away for a brief moment, but his gaze immediately returns on yours. “This.” he mutters softly, motioning a hand between the two of you. “Us. Our friendship, our bond. You know what I mean so don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Nothing is going to come between us, Jake. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He nods, a small hint of a smile creeping across his face, the tension in his shoulders slowly releasing, “I know you wouldn’t…it’s just me being a dumbass, as usual.”

“Jake, you're not a dumbass. I get it. I have the same worries you know. For all I know you’ll meet some super cool girl when you guys inevitably go on tour, and next thing you know you’ve forgotten my name.”

He laughs, moving his hand to playfully swat at you, “Come on now…there’s no way I’m going to forget your name, you’re the only girl I ever think about.”

You feel your heart lurch into your chest at his confession. He may not mean it the way you’re taking it, but part of you wonders if maybe he does.

“So it’s agreed, no douchey frat guys for me, and no rockstar girlfriends for you,” you tease.

He laughs again, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your arm, “If that makes you happy then yes…agreed.” he grins, watching as the motion of his hand leaves a trail of goosebumps down your arm. “Just promise me one thing…”

“What’s that…” you answer.

“Just, tell me…if you do– if you start to fall in love. Just tell me first.” he breathes.

You can see the sincerity in his face, and hear it in his words. He really thinks…

“Jake, guys don’t– they don’t see me like that,” you pause. “It’s never been like that for me.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, a frown on his lips growing by the second. “Bullshit.” he mutters, “Guys don’t see you like what?”

You muster up the courage thanks to the alcohol in your system, and tell him what you really think. “I’m not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. I am plain– average old, Y/N. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

He scoffs and turns onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, “Plain and average? Is that what you really think?” he asks with disbelief. “Y/N, you’re beautiful, and the guys around here are just too blind to see it. There are guys who would kill to be with you, for just one single chance.”

“I don’t know, Jake. Maybe. But like I said, I don’t care about that. Once I make it on at a firm, maybe I’ll consider it.” you say.

He studies your face, the alcohol starting to dull his inhibitions, his thoughts coming out unfiltered at this point, “You’re thinking like, ten years in the future P! You’re about to go to college and you’re talking like you’re never gonna meet anyone or pay anyone any mind. For ten years! You’ve got to live, Poppy! You’ve never even been kissed for Christ’s sake!”

“Wow,” you breathe, the hurt washing over you.

He sighs, realizing that he might have gone too far, “I didn't-” he stops, looking away from you before he speaks up again, “I'm sorry, that was shitty. I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, you’re right.” you reply.

He looks back at you, his fingers running over your arm again, “No, it’s not…I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just, you think so little of yourself sometimes and it drives me insane. You are like…the most amazing person ever, and I don’t–” he stops himself, biting down on his bottom lip, “I just don’t understand how guys don’t see it.”

You’re a little taken aback, this is the first time that his true feelings about you have really come out. You’re unsure what to even say.

“Thanks, Jake.” you smile, “I’ll let you know how my love life is going ten years from now.” you giggle.

He looks at you for a long minute, and you can see the wheels turning in his head.

“I have a better idea,” he says, taking a deep breath. “We’re 18 now, right?”

“Right…” you answer hesitantly.

“If you’re sure that you are dead set on waiting until you’re done with school to be with someone…” he pauses.

“I am…” you confirm.

“Alright, when we are thirty, if neither of us are married…” he pauses, “Let’s marry each other.”

Shock fills your features, and you can tell that he notices by the smile pulling across his lips. He laughs lightly when you finally muster out a few syllables, “Come on P…it’s the perfect plan. If we’re both still single by thirty, we’ll get hitched.”

“Married?! Jake, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want to marry me!?”

“Sure I do. You’ve always been my girl,” he murmurs, still smiling, “and we’ve already established that no other guy will ever know you better than me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, been through every high and low, you’re the only one who’s stuck with me through it all…so,” his voice trails off, “if we’re both available at thirty, I see no reason why we shouldn’t marry each other. Plus, our parents would love it.”

“Jake, this is crazy,” you pause, “I can’t let you do this. You can’t make that kind of promise…”

He leans back against the pillow behind him, his expression growing serious as he turns and looks at you, “I think I can. And I wouldn’t be promising if I couldn’t keep it. You’re it for me, Poppy. You always have been...”

“I didn’t think– Do you– I didn’t think you felt that way about me…”

He lets out a dry laugh, watching the realization starting to hit you, “How could you not know? We’ve spent our entire lives together…this is nothing new.” he sighs, pausing for a moment, “I should have probably said something before, but…I think a part of me was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way and I would end up ruining everything and lose you…” he pauses. “Why do you think I’m over here telling you not to fall in love with some stupid college guy? I want it to be me, P…I’m your guy. I always have been. The question is, do you feel the same?”

“Of course I do Jake. I– I just…” you stammer. “I’m sorry I don’t even know what to say, I–”

Your heart is racing and your eyes are glued to his every movement. You want to scream from the rooftops, but right here in the moment you can barely form a word.

“Say you feel the same, that’s all you need to say.” He gently takes up your chin, his thumb running across your bottom lip, “Say you want it to be me.”

Your eyelids grow heavy as his warm thumb brushes your lip, “Yes,” you breathe, your eyes locked on his. “I feel the same.”

He lets out a low breath, the words that you’ve just spoken going straight to his gut, “You know I’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as I can remember.” he murmurs, his fingers still resting against your chin.

“Really…”

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on the corner of his mouth, “Yeah. Since middle school, at the very least. Maybe even earlier…” he pauses, “It’s a shame you’re making me wait until we’re thirty.”

You smile at him playfully, “I mean...maybe we don't have to…”

A low grin slowly spreads across his face, “Don’t tease me, P.” he murmurs, his fingers still lingering on your chin and gently tugging at your bottom lip.

“Who says I am?” you whisper.

His breathing is becoming ragged as he gently runs his thumb over your bottom lip once more, “Poppy…say yes…” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“To what?” you breathe.

“To the pact. To kissing me. To all of it.” he mumbles, his thumb still stroking over your bottom lip, his free hand slowly traveling from your neck to the small of your back, gently pulling you towards him.

Your eyes flick to his, the string lights glowing in the reflection of his eyes. You can feel his body pressed against yours in the most delicious way, the closest you’ve ever been to each other. “Yes, Jake.”

And just like that, his lips are crashing into yours, his hand moving from your lower back to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a low breathy moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him even more. His kiss is slow and tender at first, the taste of beer still lingering on his lips as he moves them over yours in a languid back and forth, but it soon turns desperate and hungry as his tongue presses urgently against yours, a low growl leaving his chest, all of the feelings and emotions that he’s harbored for years releasing themselves in this one moment. But within seconds, it’s over.

He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in and out heavily. The kiss has both of you in a daze, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the fact that your best friend just kissed you. Your first kiss. A content smile stretches across your face before you let your head fall into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne as he wraps his arms around you.

He holds you tightly against him, his chin resting at the top of your head as he runs his fingers across your bare arm. The feeling of your body pressed against his is one you’ve dreamed about for years and now experiencing it for the first time, you never want him to let you go.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say softly into his chest.

He pulls you in even tighter, his heart rate finally starting to return to normal as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “For what?” he hums softly.

“For being my first kiss. I always wanted it to be you.” you answer.

A smile spreads across his face and he squeezes you a little tighter again. “Me too, Pops.” He pauses, his hand finding a loose strand of your hair and twisting it around his finger, “and for the record, I hope I’m your last.”

You laugh, but then an idea strikes you. “Oh yeah, about that. Don't we need to like, sign our names on the line or something?” you say playfully.

He pauses for a moment, looking down at you but quickly realizing what you mean. A small smirk spreads across his face and he lets out a small laugh, “I don’t know if we’ve got a pen and paper down here…”

You shrug as you look at him, but then he quickly reaches his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled gas station receipt from his beer run earlier in the night. “Will this work?”

“I don’t see why not?” you grin.

He reaches up behind the two of you, digging around in the pocket of Josh’s backpack that was left on the couch, pulling his hand out with a smile. “A pen.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes ironing out the fine print of your arrangement, before Jake takes the liberty of writing out the words on the back of the receipt paper.

‘At age 30, if both parties are single they will enter into marriage with each other.’

You both sign your names beneath the words, the act feeling strangely good and you can tell you both are feeling it. “So it’s official…” you say, letting your eyes meet his.

He stares down at the receipt, the ink of your signatures drying on the back. A weird feeling of finality washes over you as he slowly nods his head, “Yeah, I guess we’re really doing this.”

“The pact.” you grin, leaning into his shoulder.

He lets out a soft laugh as he looks down at you, his arm wrapping tighter around your shoulders, “The pact,” he repeats softly, before pressing another kiss to the top of your head and sealing your fate as you know it.

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

2015

“Yeah, fuck–” he groans, “keep doing that, baby…”

Your eyes flick up to meet his icy blue eyes, his tip nudging the back of your throat as you take as much of him as you can. You know it won’t be long now, you can feel the tightening of his abs as he fights off his release. You release him from your lips with a pop, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock for dramatic effect. You can hear the bass line of ‘Starboy’ thundering through the walls of the fraternity house party still happening downstairs, momentarily pulling you from the moment you found yourself in.

You feel Trevors hand as it lands on the back of your head, returning you to your task. Again you take him into your throat, never letting your eyes part from his as your hands cup his balls.

“Fuck baby doll, you’re fuckin’ amazing,” he groans, his cock starting to jerk with need.

You wince as the pet name rolls off his tongue, taking you back to a place you’d rather not remember right now. Right back to Jake.

Jake. Where was he right now? What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t at the back of some girl's throat. What were you doing?

Suddenly you feel him as his cum starts to paint the back of your throat, swallowing him down with every grunt that leaves his chest. You pull off of him quickly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Your mind is suddenly a jumbled mess of thoughts, the single word sending you into a tailspin of guilt.

“Felt good as fuck, baby,” Trevor says, pulling up his jeans.

You give him a curt smile as you pull yourself up off of the dirty bathroom floor. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“What?” he questions, grabbing his red cup from the bathroom counter. “Baby?”

“No.” you answer quickly. “Baby doll. Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, babe. My bad.” he says nonchalantly. “You good?” he asks, turning to open the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, “Yeah. I’m fine.” you answer, watching him spin the door knob to open the door. The music from the party hits you full force, and that combined with the alcohol in your system hits you hard. “Actually, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Why, the party is just getting started, it's only two,” he says, ushering you down the stairs. “And I thought you were coming home with me tonight.”

“Eh, I need to be at the library tomorrow morning first thing. I have an exam tomorrow afternoon.” you say, “I’ll call you though, yeah?”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, babe. Later.”

Relief washes over you as you free yourself from Trevor, and make your way through the party and out into the fresh air of Fraternity row.

“Fuck. What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” you grit out, making the short walk back to your dorm. The air is starting to chill as fall begins to wash over Chicago. You kick yourself the entire way to your door, immediate regret setting in as you let your mind wander back to Jake.

It had been a few weeks since the two of you spoke, and you definitely hadn’t let him know about your little ongoing situation with Trevor. You didn’t even truly know if you needed to. It wasn’t serious, and that was the deal, right?

As you lock the door behind you, you toss your bag onto your desk, hearing the loud thud as your phone hits the wooden table. It reminds you that you haven’t looked at it in hours. Pulling it from your purse you see a few Instagram notifications but more importantly you see that you missed call and a missed text from Jake. You wonder if you were on his mind, too.

Jake 1:46 AM: Pops, call me when you can, I have big news.

Your eyes flash to your clock seeing it read out 2:32 AM, and you wonder if he is still up. If he would answer your call. You decide to try, knowing he keeps late hours. The line rings out four times before you hear his raspy voice answering the call.

“Hey Pops,” he says, and you can tell you’ve woken him.

“Shit, sorry, I woke you up didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Nice to hear your voice instead of reading it on a screen,” he laughs, clearing his throat. “It’s late Poppy, where have you been all night? Are you just getting home?”

You feel hesitant to answer but decide on the truth, “Yeah, I– I was out. I was at a party with some friends.”

You hear a deep hum as he takes in your words and you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you have fun?”

“Um, yeah I guess so…” you lie. “But that's not why I’m calling, I saw your text. What’s up, is everything okay?”

He lets out a soft sigh, his voice still thick with sleep, “Yeah everything is fine. Everything is great actually. Sorry to just text you out of the blue like that, but I wanted to– I just wanted to tell you over the phone instead of texting.” He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts, “It took a while but, the deal went through. We were signed for an album and we’re gonna tour it.”

“Oh my god, Jake!”

“We are releasing a fucking album, Pops.” he repeats.

“I don’t even know what to say, I am so– I am so proud of you Jake! I can’t believe it! I mean, I can but, you know what I mean!” you gush.

You hear his soft laugh from the other end of the phone, “You don’t really have to say anything. Or you can scream or do whatever. I just needed to tell you. I wanted you to be the first person to know.”

The words then hit you, “Wait, I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“Yeah, you’re the first.” he laughs, “You’re the one I need to tell everything to, first. Just how it's always been. How I want it to always be.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

You can hear his smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m proud too. God, I wish you were here, Pops. Wish you were here celebrating with me.”

A sigh leaves your lips, “I wish I was there too.”

“Pops, listen, it– It might be a while before we can see each other again. We– we’re going to be touring all through the spring. All over the place…”

“Oh, I–”

“No, no, don’t worry or anything, I just mean I will miss you, that’s all. But you’re doing your thing in Chicago and I’m doing mine out here. Just kinda the paths we are on right now.” he pauses, “But I’ve still got a couple of weeks at the end of the year before we go. We can see each other then, right?”

You bite your lips together as you try to stay positive, “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“Good.” he answers, “Just keep on going, Poppy. We’ve got this.”

“Yeah. Yeah we do.” you answer quietly.

“Alright, well, we should probably get some sleep, it’s late. But one more thing before you go…” he trails off.

“What’s that…”

“Just…” he pauses hesitantly, “We’re still, us, right?”

“Yeah, Jake. We’re still us. Nothing has changed.” you confirm.

“Okay. Well, goodnight, Pops,” he says, his voice growing sleepy again.

“Goodnight, Jake.” you whisper, hitting the red button to end the call.

As you collapse down onto your lumpy dorm room bed you run your hand over your face. You try to shake the hollow feeling in your stomach at the thought of everything being okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease washing over you as you pull the blankets over your head.

December 8, 2015

Jake 4:27 PM: When do you come home for winter break?

You 5:09 PM: I’m not sure yet. Cramming for finals currently.

Jake 5:20 PM: good luck pops

December 19, 2015

Jake 11:47AM: We are leaving for Detroit to get a van and trailer. I can’t believe we are really going on tour. Miss you.

December 22, 2015

Jake 9:57 PM: I saw your mom today and she said you won’t be home for Christmas. Would it be weird if I came to see you? Let me know.

December 25, 2015

Jake 7:46 AM: Merry Christmas, Pops.

You 9:04 AM: Merry Christmas, Jake. Miss you. I’ll call you soon.

December 29, 2015

You 12:03 PM: sorry I haven’t called, I’ve been so busy. When do you leave for tour?

Jake 1:10 PM: January 8th. We’ll be in Chicago on the 24th, should I leave you a ticket?

You 1:27 PM: Can you leave two?

Jake 1:30 PM: Anything for you pops. Can’t wait to see you.

January 23, 2016

Jake 8:46 PM: leaving the venue in Springfield heading towards Chicago. See you tomorrow?

You 9:23 PM: Yes ❤️

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

January 24, 2016

“So what’ve you got going today babe?” Trevor asks, rolling over to face you.

“Honestly not a lot. I have a class at 1:00 then I guess I am just going to come back here and get ready to go to that show. You still want to come with me right?”

“Yeah for sure, sounds like a good time,” he says, kissing your shoulder as you sit up on your elbows. The sheet now barely covers your naked bodies, the light sheen of sweat now dry.

A knock on your door startles both of you, your head snapping to the right to look at Trevor, “You think it’s the RA?”

“Fucking hope not,” he whispers, quickly pulling himself up out of your bed.

You jump up, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over your head as you rush to the door. You push back your hair and take a deep breath as you open the door, but much to your surprise, it’s not the RA.

“Jake?!”

“Hey, Pops,” he grins, his smile lighting you on fire. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems almost nervous.

“Jake what– what are you doing here?” you rush out, taking in the sight of him for the first time in a long time. His hair is longer now, and he seems as if he's added a little bit of muscle tone.

“We got into town early, thought I’d surprise you,” he answers, his eyes flicking up and down your body as he takes in your current state.

Before you even have time to explain, Trevor walks up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“All good, babe?” he asks, his eyes locked on Jake.

You see the exact moment that realization hits Jake and you swallow harshly, “Yeah, yeah, um everything is fine. This is my friend Jake. He’s in the band we’re seeing tonight.”

You watch as Jake lets out a small huff of air, anger washing over him. “Jake,” he nods, “Nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Trevor answers.

“I see you’re busy, Pops. I’ll uh– catch you later.” he says, looking at you before walking away. You don’t even have time to speak before you hear the elevator doors opening. You shut your dorm room door with tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to not let Trevor see, but a huge lump has formed in your throat, and you feel like you might be sick, so you quickly dart into the bathroom before Trevor can question you.

Your blood is rushing around furiously as you pick up the two tickets at willcall under your name. Trevor seems oblivious to your anxiety, though, you are doing your best to keep it under wraps. The energy in the small venue is buzzing around you and your excitement doubles once you step through the double doors and enter inside. There are a few people gathered at the front of the stage, and you and Trevor step up behind them. Your heart is pounding as your eyes catch on the drum kit, seeing the band's logo displayed proudly. It won't be too much longer until they go on stage, opening for the main act, and you know more people will begin to show up after they start.

“So you’ve seen them before?” Trevor asks, turning to look at you.

“Um, yeah kinda. But not like this. Not on a big stage with lights and real sound equipment,” you answer, doing your best to shut him up.

Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage where you see a few familiar faces getting ready to go on stage. A smile stretches across your face and your heart starts to pound harder, knowing Jake will be in front of you in mere seconds. The house music starts to quiet down and you watch as Josh takes the stage. He is followed by Sam and Danny, and finally you see Jake step up with his red SG.

They immediately begin playing, and Josh starts talking to the crowd of people that have gathered around you. There are more people here than you would have thought, but you chalk it up to their successful shows in other surrounding states. But you’re more so shocked at the sheer presence of them on the stage. In seconds Jake’s guitar is commanding the attention of the entire venue, all eyes on him. Part of you wants him to look at you, but the other part of you is still feeling guilty about this morning's earlier interaction.

As your attention focuses on him, you notice that his attention seems to be focused on everything but the crowd of people in front of him, in fact he seems to be looking over the crowd as he strums out the chords to the first song. It’s then you realize that he seems to be intentionally not looking for you. You hate to admit that it hurts.

The performance begins, and Josh starts the opening lyrics to a song you've never heard before, but it's incredible. You can't help but notice that the lyrics seem almost as if they could be about you, and it sends chills up and down your spine. Surely not.

It's then that Jake's eyes meet yours, locking in on you as Josh continues to sing. Your breath is caught in your chest and as you struggle to blink you see Jake look over at Trevor. Your heart begins to race, your cheeks turning flushed. It seems as if time has stopped, like the two of you are the only people here, in the entire world. You hold his gaze again for a moment before he rips his eyes away, returning his focus back to the music.

The show continues this way, the constant back and forth as the two of you look at each other, speaking silently as he plays guitar. It feels like an eternity before the show is finally over, their set is ending and the guys are walking offstage. The crowd erupts into applause and cheers, and you and Trevor begin to make your way towards the back of the venue, but not before Josh spots you and wraps his sweaty arms around you.

He looks flushed and out of breath but still has a million dollar smile plastered across his face, “Y/N! I’m glad you made it out. Did you enjoy the show?” he says, but doesn’t let go of the hug despite him dripping sweat onto your shoulder.

“Of course I did! I always do, you guys were amazing!” you shout, hearing the headliner start their set. “It’s nice to see you on a real stage where you belong.”

He lets out a low laugh, finally letting go of you, “It’s still unreal. I can’t even pretend like I’m used to it. Thanks for being here.” he pauses. “I don’t know where Jake ran off to but I’ll find him and send him your way.”

“Thanks,” you smile, seeing him wave over his shoulder.

You turn back around to see Trevor standing beside you, a small hint of confusion on his face. He looks like he has something he wants to say, and you know exactly what it is.

“Yes, I know the whole band, and yes Jake is a twin,” you smile.

He shakes his head and looks down at the sticky bar floor before looking back at you. “No actually it's not that. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N, at Jake… Like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him for the entire show. And how he couldn’t take his eyes off you either. Not once.”

Panic begins to set in, your heart rate immediately spiking, “What? No. I– I watched everybody, Trev.”

He raises an eyebrow as he stares you down, “No, you didn’t. You watched him.” he replies, his face growing serious as he looks you over, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been with me for a while now, and I have never once seen you look at me the way you were looking at him.”

“No, you’re imagining things,” you say dismissively, seeing Jake appear in the crowd, heading your direction at possibly the worst time.

“No, I’m not imagining things,” he mutters, his words turning cold. “Just admit it. Say that you have feelings for him.”

Jake finally makes his way over to you, and by that point the tension between the three of you is as thick as molasses. Jake’s face changes the moment he sees the expression on your face.

“Hey Pops, what’s going on? Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes flickering between you and Trevor.

“Um–” you stammer, unsure what to say to diffuse the tension between you and Trevor.

Trevor looks at Jake, his eyes narrowing at your obvious discomfort, “Just settling an issue here, that’s all.”

Jake looks at him, obviously confused and concerned, “What issue is that?”

“Oh, so you’re going to play dumb, too?” Trevor quips, “Of course.”

Jake’s face turns serious as his eyes narrow, “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, man. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Not much to tell. I can just tell when a guy and a girl have feelings for each other. We’re working through the issue right now.” he answers nonchalantly, gesturing in your direction.

“Trevor!” you snap, your face burning with embarrassment.

He shrugs his shoulders, “What? We are. Am I wrong? You’ve got feelings for this dude, right?”

Jake is standing stock still, his eyes wide and focused on you as Trevor mentions the feelings you’re not supposed to have.

The tension in the air is palpable, the realization of what he’s saying slowly settling in on him. “Right?” he asks again. You can’t bring yourself to look at either one of them, your gaze remaining locked on the ground.

“No. I don’t Trevor. You are my boyfriend. Jake is…just a friend…from back home. I'm here with you.” you answer, feeling your own heart break as the words pierce through Jake, too.

He stands there, his face expressionless as your words sink in. He’s frozen, staring down at you, but your head is still glued to the ground and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Trevor lets out a breath, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then. All I’m saying is the way you were looking at him just now, and the way he was looking at you…there’s something between you two that isn’t just a regular thing, and I see it.”

“No man, she's right. We are just friends. Nothing more. Never have been, never will be. Isn’t that right, Pops.” Jake says, and you can feel the venom in his words.

You dare glance up at him, but the moment your eyes meet you regret it. His face looks like stone, the light in his eyes now replaced with a dark, dull anger. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Jake like this, his gaze locked on yours, staring you down.

“Right, Pops? We’re just friends,” he repeats, but his voice lacks the comfort of the countless times he’s said those words before to you. There’s no reassurance in there this time, no hint of a smile. This is not the Jake you know. The Jake that you love.

“Right,” you breathe, wishing more than anything you could just disappear into thin air.

He holds your gaze for just a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, waiting for something more from you, but you just can’t say it, your voice having abandoned you.

“Okay, great, well uh– thanks for coming out. See ya ‘round, Pops.” You watch as he nods his head toward you dismissively, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

The feeling of him walking away from you, the anger in his face and in his words, it’s leaving you with an unbearable emptiness feeling in your chest. Your head is swimming with everything that has just transpired. You’re unable to move, but Trevor breaks you out of your trance with a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Part of you wants to stay, to leave Trevor and find Jake and make things right, but you know you can't. It's too late. The damage is done. You let him lead you out, your head down as you stumble out of the venue. The night sky is cold and black, the weight of the moment still fresh. You let Trevor lead you away from the venue. Away from Jake.

You make the trip back to your dorm in silence, both of you just wanting to forget about the whole thing and curl up in bed and sleep. He doesn’t try to talk, but you can feel his tense energy radiating off of him next to you, and you aren’t totally sure if he’s angry with you or just the situation in general.

As you slide into your bed, your mind is still replaying the moments back in the venue. Jake’s face as you denied having any feelings for him. The way he used a nickname that once was special between you two and somehow made it sound so cold. The way he didn’t argue when you denied your feelings to Trevor. And the worst part of all, your inability to correct him.

The sheets feel heavy on top of your body, and you’ve never felt more lonely. The person who knows you best is a couple miles away from you, and at the same time he’s never felt more distant. You want to try and sleep, hoping the morning can bring you some reprieve but you instead end up staring at the ceiling and letting the tears quietly fall.

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

November 10, 2016

“Miss Y/N?” the dorm attendant calls out as you walk through the entry doors.

“Yes?” you answer, stopping at the desk with a smile.

“You had a delivery come this morning,” she smiles, “a big beautiful one.”

“Me?” you ask, not expecting any deliveries.

“Yes, stay right here and I will get it,” she says, scampering off to the back office to retrieve your package.

However, when she steps out your heart nearly drops. It’s not a package at all. It's a giant bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers. Your eyes instantly begin to fill with tears, and a familiar ache in your heart flares up. Poppies, at least two dozen of them in a bright pink vase. They are all blooming and vibrant and you don’t even need to read the card to know who they are from.

You accept them from her with thanks, and rush back to your dorm room as fast as you can. The tears are beginning to stream from the corners of your eyes as you kick the door shut behind you. You place the flowers on your desk, and with shaky hands you pull the tiny red card from the holder.

The outside of the envelope reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in bold handwriting. You look at the envelope one more time before ripping open the seal and pulling the card out. The front of the card has a handwritten message. ‘Have a great birthday, Pops.’

There’s no signature, but you know who it’s from. You open the card and find the inside blank, except for one simple phrase written in the middle.

‘Still us, right?’

You feel like your heart has exploded in your chest, the tears falling faster now. You feel a knot in the pit of your stomach as you read those words again and again, your brain unable to wrap your head fully around what they mean. You know what he’s really asking, and the feeling of shame and guilt over the way that you left things is even stronger now.

“What did I do?” you whisper to yourself. You never wanted to hurt him, that was never your intention. You let your head sink, your eyes landing on the beautiful multicolored flowers on the desk. You let the tears continue to fall, the guilt and helplessness washing over you in a fresh wave. You let your head fall into your hands, trying to will yourself to do something, anything, but the feeling of despair and the memory of how Jake’s face looked that night in the venue is like a heavy weight on top of you.

Should you call him? Text him?

You look around your dorm, as if a sign would pop up and tell you exactly what to do. You turn and look at your phone, your hands shaking as you reach out toward it. You think about calling him, you think about texting, but what would you say?

You want to say how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, and how much better everything would be if you could both go back and do that night over again...but what good is saying those things now? It’s too late for regret, no matter how badly you want to go back and change the last few months.

You pick up the phone, your fingers shaking slightly as you dial his number. The phone rings for a few seconds until you hear his voice on the other line. “Poppy?”

“Jake,” you reply.

“Hey,” his voice responds, a little bit of surprise and relief in it. He hesitates before continuing, “Guessing you got the flowers?”

“I did. Jake, they are so beautiful. I love them.” you answer. There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, the elephant in the room growing larger by the second.

“Yeah, I’m really glad you like them,” he replies, his voice sounding less surprised and a little bit of normalcy starting to return to the conversation. He lets another pause linger between the two of you, the silence feeling strange after all the time you’ve gone without speaking to each other. Then he speaks again. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I wasn’t sure you would answer,” you say sheepishly.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, the sound of his laugh somehow still warming your heart. “Yeah, to be honest I was a little hesitant to answer. But I’m glad you called.” he says quietly.

“I um– I got your…note.” you breathe.

A pause fills the line before he speaks again, this time quieter. “Yeah, it’s just been kind of heavy having the distance between us lately. I just… needed you to know that the way things ended last time we saw each other, I never meant to…” he trails off, suddenly unsure of the proper words to say.

“Jake, I-” you start, but he interrupts you.

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Please don’t feel bad, okay? I just needed you to know that we’re still…” he fades off again, that familiar feeling of helplessness filling the air. He takes a moment before continuing, “You’re still my best friend and you always will be. I don’t want us to lose that. I don’t want to lose you any more. You’re my girl, Pops. Always will be.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Jake,” you confess, your voice cracking with pain.

“I know.” he replies, letting out a sigh, “And I understand.” Another moment passes between the two of you before he speaks again. “Listen, I’ve got to go, we are going on soon and Josh is breathing down my neck, but I’m glad you called. It means a lot to hear your voice. Let’s try and…I don’t know, talk more?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry to keep you, I just…” you pause, “Have a good show, Jake... a-and thank you for the flowers.”

“Of course, anything for my girl,” he answers, “and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you…” you trail off.

“Call soon?” he asks, the volume in the background starting to grow louder.

“I’d like that,” you breathe, feeling the distance from him even more than before.

“Good. Okay, well have a good night, P.” he says softly, and right before you think he’s hung up you hear him whisper, “It’s still us, Poppy.”

“Still us,” you confirm, the call ending as the words leave your lips.

January 4, 2017

Jake 8:12 AM: Just signed the contract for a headlining world tour. I can’t believe it, Pops.

You 7:58 PM: I’m so proud of you Jake

March 28, 2017

Jake 11:04 PM: Just walked past a street vendor selling red poppies. Apparently they are a big thing here. Thought of you. Miss you.

You 11:24 PM: I miss you too. Where are you at these days?

Jake 11:30 PM: In Paris right now, England tomorrow, then Scotland. It’s beautiful here.

You 11:32 PM: I can only imagine.

Jake 11:33 PM: One day, Pops.

June 7, 2017

You 12:25 PM: Did I just see that you guys are playing Lollapalooza?! Jake!

Jake 1:49 PM: You did, can you believe it?

You 1:50 PM: We used to daydream about that

Jake 1:56 PM: No more dreaming. Can I save you an Artist wristband?

You 1:58 PM: You’d do that for me?

Jake 2:00 PM: Of course poppy, you’re my girl.

August 3, 2017

Jake 8:09 AM: P, it’s show day and I haven't heard from you. You still coming? Your wristband is at will call.

You 10:23 AM: Jake, I am so so so sorry. I can’t find anyone to cover my shift tonight at work. I’ve been trying for weeks. I hate to miss this. I am so sorry. :(

Jake 10:40 AM: Ahh, it’s alright P, there will be more. I’ll catch you at the next one.

You 10:45 AM: I won’t miss the next one. I swear.

Jake 10:46 AM: I’m holding you to it. Call soon.

November 10, 2017

You 2:21 PM: Thank you for the poppies Jake. They are even more beautiful than last years bouquet. Miss you so much.

Jake 3:04 PM: Anything for you, Y/N. Happy Birthday.

February 18, 2018

Jake 7:34 PM: *Open in Spotify* - Bad Company - Call On Me

You 7:45 PM: I remember listening to this album in your car non stop senior year lol

Jake 7:48 PM: Still one of the very best. I always think of you when I hear that one though.

You 7:50 PM: Even if I called on you I don’t think you could get here very quickly. Last I saw on Instagram you guys were in Belgium.

Jake 7:54 PM: We are, but all you need to do is say the word, Pops.

You 8:00 PM: Miss you.

Jake 8:01 PM: Miss you more.

April 4, 2019

Jake 7:48 PM: My mom said she got your graduation invitation in the mail today. So proud of you Y/N.

You 8:21 PM: It feels like it went by so fast. I can’t believe it’s over. I actually just received my acceptance letter from the University of Michigan today. I’m officially going to Law School.

Jake 8:30 PM: You continue to amaze me Poppy. I’m glad we both get to live our dreams.

You 8:32 PM: ❤️

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

August 12, 2019

You 7:52 AM: I’m freaking out, what if I can’t do this Jake

Jake 8:00 AM: what?

You 8:01 AM: It’s my first day of classes at UofM

Jake 8:02 AM: Do you think I wasn’t petrified the first time I stepped onto a real stage? I know you can do this P. If I can do that, you can do this. You can do anything.

You 8:03 AM: Thanks Jake

Jake 8:05 AM: Call me later and let me know how it went. We are on break for the next week so I’m free whenever.

November 10, 2019

You 3:47 PM: Jake! You’re so sweet. Gorgeous flowers, but I have to know how you got my new address?

Jake 3:50 PM: Don’t worry about that, I have my ways. Happy Birthday my girl. I’ll call soon.

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

May 18, 2020

You can faintly hear a persistent buzzing, the sound pulling you from your sleep. You realize it’s your phone buzzing away on your nightstand with an incoming call. You roll over, reaching for it in the darkness of the room, noticing the time on your alarm clock says 2:47 AM. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as they adjust to the harsh light of your phone, but that's not what really wakes you. It’s the name on the screen that has you sitting up straight in your bed.

“Jake?” you breathe, sliding your thumb against the glass. “Hello?” you answer groggily.

“Poppy…” he replies, his voice deep and gravely.

“Jake, what's wrong, is everything okay? It's like 2:30 in the morning?” you rush out, your heart starting to pound.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby doll,” he answers, “I just…I needed to hear your voice.”

You can hear the slurring in his words and you know he's had too much to drink. That, and he hasn’t called you that pet name in years, “What’s going on, Jake? You don’t sound okay.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly gathering the right words to say, “‘M fine, Pops. It’s just been a bad day. Hell, it’s been a bad week. A bad month. Everything is fucking exploding in our faces.”

“What do you mean?” you ask nervously, clutching your sheets in your fist.

He lets out a deep sigh, “God, everythings just falling apart. With the album, with tour–” he cuts himself off. There’s another pause before he speaks again. “It’s just all such a mess and I miss you, Pops. I miss you so damn much. I don’t know if I can do all of this.”

“What? What do you mean? Is it because of all this Covid stuff?” you ask.

“That, and so many other things. We had all these plans to release the new album and tour and then everything came to a screeching halt. We’re essentially in lockdown now, and I don't know when we will start up again. I can’t just sit, Pops, you know that. I just can’t,” he sighs heavily. “But it’s not just that,” he pauses for a moment, his words becoming a little more slurred, “There’s a million things, and I know I sound so whiny, but–”

“No, go ahead, get it all out. Tell me. I'm here. I'm listening.”

“I don't even know how to put it all into words. There’s just so much. The pressure, the uncertainty, the loneliness of it all, the shit with the label, my parents calling all the time asking what's going on, Josh bitching everytime something doesn’t go his way. Nothing is going right,” he pauses, “and you're not here.”

“I know. I know I'm not, but I think I understand a little bit at least. All my classes are virtual right now, finals and everything. It’s not how I ever imagined Law School going. I don't think I have left my apartment in weeks. I haven’t talked to a real person in a while. It's scary and everything is uncertain right now. I get it Jake. I do, and I miss you. I miss you so much.” you answer.

“Yeah, exactly,” he sighs, “I just feel like– everything is going wrong and falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it. I just want…I want you,” he pauses, “I want you here. Things would be better if you were here. You would know what to do.”

“Well, where are you? Are you…at home or–”

“I’m locked in this fucking house in Nashville. Feel like a fuckin’ prisoner. All I can do is play guitar and write and drink, and– I just need out.” he groans.

“Nashville...You–You live in Nashville now? In a house? I had no idea you guys left Michigan.” you say a little despondently.

“See, this is exactly what I mean. I want you to know these things. You deserve to know. I– I should’ve called. But, yeah, we got a place last year. Me and Josh. It made sense with us starting to record and touring, being centrally located and all that. But it’s not my permanent home. This is not what I want.” he adds hastily.

“Yeah, I understand, that makes sense, I just didn't know,” you pause, “I wish- I mean, how far are you from Ann Arbor? You know you can always come visit for a while. I’ll be busy with school work but at least we could…” you trail off.

“I’d say maybe…six hours, give or take,” he answers, and his mind starts to wander a little. “I wish I could just hop in the car and come to you. I miss your face. Just you, in general,” he says, the drunken honesty coming through. “But the label has us on fucking lockdown. Can’t leave the city even if we wanted to.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.” you answer, pain coloring your tone.

He picks up on your change in tone, his voice growing a bit more sober, “Shit, no, P. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want you to feel like I wouldn’t just drop everything and come to you right now, you gotta believe me. I wish I could. I’d leave now and be there by morning.”

“No, Jake it’s fine, I get it. I was just daydreaming.” you answer, swallowing thickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I feel like everything has just been too much and I just wanted to hear your voice. But I shouldn’t have called you like this, I know you’ve got a lot of stuff going on with school right now. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my bullshit.” he says, his voice sounding just as pained as yours.

“Never apologize for that Jake. That’s what I’m here for. I want to know, and I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N. You know that I would,” he responds, his words almost a whisper now. You can still hear the buzz of alcohol in his voice, but now it’s only a slight slur instead of drunken rambling. “You were always my person. My safe place.”

“And you’re mine,” you whisper.

You can hear him sigh heavily on the other line, and the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over the line. You’re both lost in your thoughts, just content to hear the other breathe. He finally breaks the silence, his voice quiet and hoarse, “When I get out of this hell hole, I’m coming to find you. I need to see you again. It can’t be another year without you.”

“You know where to find me,” you grin.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, just listening to you breathe. “I should let you get some sleep. You got school and work and… life to deal with tomorrow, huh?”

“Sadly, yes. But, I– enjoyed this. I’ve missed your voice. It’s nice to lay here with my eyes closed and pretend like it's old times.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, “This was good. I feel better now, I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. We’ve got a lot to catch up on…and I’m sorry I had to be drunk to find the balls to call you.” he giggles. “Can I call you again sometime soon? Preferably when I’m a little more sober?”

“Please do,” you answer with a laugh.

He laughs softly along with you, the sound of his laugh is familiar yet different after all this time, “Okay, I’ll call you soon then. I promise. Goodnight, my Pops.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

Detroit, Michigan

March 13, 2022

“And send,” you whisper to yourself, finally leaning back in your office chair as the email flies into the ether. You let out a deep exhale, checking the time. Only one more hour before you leave for the day. You take in your surroundings, seeing your colleagues still busy and working away on case files and reports. It wasn’t easy landing this job and it has been taxing to say the least, but in a few years you would be up for partner and you would do anything to make your dream a reality. Today though, you were leaving a little earlier than usual. You had plans tonight, plans you weren’t one hundred percent sure you should follow through with, but it had been years after all, and part of you is dying to see him. Jake.

You’d been following along with the band's success for years now, watching them grow to crazy levels of fame in such a short amount of time. You think back to the night Jake called you, so worried about the new album, and now it was their most successful release to date. It truly was incredible and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see them play it live. And tonight, you would.

When you saw that they had plans to play in Saginaw you knew you had to make the drive. You requested the time off and now today was the day. Your heart has been in your throat all day waiting for it to drop to your stomach the moment you see him on stage tonight. It only took a few messages with Karen to find out that you had standing tickets waiting for you. Stating that ‘Jake wouldn’t have it any other way’. You could tell she missed him, missed all her boys actually, and you knew the pain all too well.

You knew he would look different, from the pictures you’d seen you could tell his hair was longer, and his boyish figure was now that of a man. But he wasn't the only one, all of the guys' looks had changed dramatically, and part of you felt like you hardly knew them anymore. You had no plans of telling Jake that you would be there tonight, you wanted to see him play a good show without the burden of knowing you were out in the crowd watching. You have your outfit picked out and waiting for you on your bed, knowing you only had a few quick minutes to change and get on the road when you clocked out at the office for the day. Now, all there was left to do was wait.

The traffic couldn’t have been worse. The freeway was congested with an accident and roadwork, and as your hands gripped the steering wheel you began to feel nervous that you might not make it in time. You pushed away the nervous feeling, turning up the volume of the music playing through your car speakers. You’d done your research, listening to the new album a hundred times over, and tonight you’d put that knowledge to the test as you tried your best to sing along with every song they would play. As you sang along now, you let go of your stress and relaxed into the music, watching as miraculously the road cleared in front of you and you continued on your way to Saginaw.

With your ticket in hand you searched for your seat in the crowd, finding yourself surrounded by familiar faces. Faces you hadn’t seen since you left home. It felt like a big reunion in section 102, and you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. When you finally found your seat you looked up to see Karen sitting a seat away, turning to face you as you sat down next to her.

“Oh honey, you made it,” she cooed, pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, yeah I did! Got stuck in some terrible traffic leaving Detroit, I didn’t know if I was going to make it on time.” you answer, waving hello to a few other friendly faces around you.

“I am so glad you’re here, I haven’t seen you in years! You really should come home and see everyone soon. We all miss you!” she says, with a soft smile, “I’m glad he sat you with us. Right where you should be.”

You give her a confused look and she laughs.

“Look around, you’re in the family section,” she pauses, and suddenly you realize shes right. “I can’t wait to see them play tonight, it’s been a year or so.”

“Well I guess I should confess that I haven't seen them since their first little tour. I think they were openers. It was back in college.”

“Oh well, you’re in for a surprise then. They are just fantastic now, they’ve really stepped it up since then. Oh, Jake is going to be so happy to see you.” she gushes.

“I actually didn’t tell him I was coming,” you pause, “we haven’t talked in a little while. He’s been busy touring and I’m working at a firm now. Life hasn’t been the best to our friendship.” you confess.

“Oh honey I hate to hear that. You’ll have to come with me after the show to see everybody. I’m sure they would all love to say hello.” she offers.

“Like backstage? I don’t know. Maybe. I–”

“No excuses, we’re going.” she smiles, just as the lights dim and music begins to play through the arena.

Your heart is positively thumping in your chest as you hear what you believe to be Josh’s voice as he talks over a piece of music. You feel your insides grow warm as he talks, your eyes filling with tears as you listen to the beautiful words he's crafted. The crowd explodes in cheers full of anticipation as the arena goes black and the curtain covering the stage begins to flash with red lights.

You’re scared of what you will see when the curtain drops. Scared of the changes you’ll see in their faces, the changes you’ll notice in their playing, but mostly you’re scared that he may not recognize you if he does see you, because that would crush you.

Suddenly the curtain falls down to the ground as loud music begins to fill the arena. Your eyes are immediately on Jake, his long dark hair and his two piece suit. He looks so amazing you feel like you could fall to your knees right here in the stands. But then, he spots you, and for that few seconds it’s just the two of you there in that arena.

A wave of shock sets in as soon as his eyes land on you. For a brief moment you can hardly believe that it’s real, that you’re seeing him in person and not just in the memories that haunt you during the dark hours of night. But there he is, living his dream right in front of your very eyes.

He stands in front of the crowd, guitar in hand. The bright spotlight is so white it almost hurts your eyes, but once your vision adjusts you’re struck by the sight of him. He’s slightly sweaty and disheveled, his jacket open and hair already sweaty and messy. He’s never looked more handsome than he does standing on that stage. He stands still for a moment, the shock of seeing you here has shaken him to the core, that is obvious to you. But he quickly shakes it off, and continues with the show, playing for the crowd that is screaming his name.

By the third song you are having to pick your jaw up off the floor. The way he is working the crowd is a vast difference from the last time you watched him play, still shy and unsure of himself on stage. He’s got a presence to him now, a confidence that you don’t remember seeing when you first watched him play years before. It shows in the way he moves on the stage, in the way he plays to the crowd, and in the way he works the guitar like it’s an extension of himself. He plays his heart out for the next hour, his movements smooth and precise. Jake is in his element just like he always knew he would be.

The encore is upon you, and you can’t wait for him to be back on stage. Finally, he bounds up to the stage again, his energy and excitement at an all time high. You can tell he’s having the time of his life, the lights and cheers making him feel like he could fly. Josh is right behind him, grabbing the microphone and beginning to speak. “Thank you all for an incredible night,” he yells to the crowd, “But we’re not done yet. How about another one?” The room fills with loud cheers again. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as Jake turns his body to look at you, pointing his guitar in your direction as he acknowledges you. Your cheeks are on fire as he sends you a smile, Karen grabbing your arm as she watches the interaction.

“Told you he’d be happy to see you,” she shouts over the music.

You feel overwhelmed with emotion and excitement; not just by the fact that he spotted you in this giant crowd, but also by the fact that he is so clearly expressing a level of happiness because you’re here right now. The connection you feel to him is unlike anything you’ve felt in a long time.

He finishes the show with his heart on his sleeve. It ends on an incredibly high note, and he takes one last bow to the crowd as they start to leave. He starts walking off the stage, Josh in tow and you realize that now, you will go backstage with Karen and you’ll have to face him.

“Alright honey, you up for saying hello?” she asks, both of you making your way out of the aisle and towards the floor.

Your body is shaking with nerves as you answer her, “Yeah, I should. It’s been too long.”

You and Karen make your way to the back where the band is waiting, still a little winded from the show. A few roadies are already packing up the stage equipment, and the crew is helping to dismantle the set. There is so much going on behind the scenes that you had no clue about. So many moving parts and pieces.

Karen ushers you back towards the dressing rooms, each of the guys having their own space to dress and prepare. When did they get so fancy?

“Okay, Jake should be right through there, I’m going to go find Josh. Come find me if you need anything.” she says, leaving you at his dressing room door.

Your hands are shaking, you’re unsure if you’ll even be able to raise your hand to knock. You smooth out your skirt and take a deep breath, fixing your hair a little as you try to calm your nerves. It’s Jake. It’s just Jake.

Finally getting over the shock and nervousness, you knock softly on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and your heart starts to pound in your ears. You hear him call out through the door, “Just a minute.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as you hear his voice through the door. It sounds like he’s just getting out of the shower, and with a towel wrapped around his waist he opens the door. The shock on his face is undeniable as he sees you standing there. He was expecting anything but you. “Pops,” he whispers, saying your name as if he were trying to convince himself that you were real.

“H-hi Jake,” you stammer, your nerves making themselves known.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you in disbelief. He’s still dripping wet from the shower, beads of water running down his bare chest. His face relaxes and a familiar softness sets in, a soft smile crossing his face. “You’re really here.” His gaze roams over your body, drinking in every inch.

“Yeah, I'm here. You were–you were so amazing, I–”

It’s as if the sound of your voice brings a wave of peace over him, and before you know it he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his body still damp from the shower. He pulls you against him, your body pressed to his bare chest. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath on your skin as he holds you. “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” he murmurs.

You hug him back, feeling all the guilt and nerves melt away from you, in a way that only he can manage. You can feel the water starting to seep through your clothes, and you pull away, looking between you with a smile. “You're wet, and naked,” you laugh.

He blushes at your words, suddenly remembering that he’s still just wrapped in a towel. “Shit,” he says, feeling an unusual shyness that he usually doesn’t feel around you. He steps back to the side of the door, holding it open for you to enter as he gives you a nervous smile. “Come in, just give me a sec and I'll change.”

“I can wait out here if you want, I know that we–”

“No, come in Pops. Please,” he says firmly, the towel still wrapped around him. It’s still hard to take your eyes off of his bare chest, but you walk into the room, trying to keep your focus on anything but him, not wanting to stare too long.

You watch as he saunters across the room, his long brown hair down to the middle of his back now, and dripping with water. You swallow harshly as your eyes travel over the curve of his ass in the towel, but you pull your eyes away before he turns around. He grabs a bag and slips into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him. You can hear a nasty cough come from behind the door and you furrow your brows. Is he sick?

You stand there by the couch, suddenly noticing the small bottle of cough syrup sitting at the edge of the side table. A few moments later, he emerges from the bathroom, dressed in worn jeans and a clean white t-shirt. He sits down on the couch and he lets out another few coughs, trying to clear his throat as he looks up at you. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the couch.

You take a seat next to him, and let out a soft breath. “Are you feeling okay?” you ask.

The cough is still in his throat, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have this damn cough that I can’t seem to shake.” He looks you up and down, finally being able to observe you as closely as he wants to since you showed up at the venue. “You look great,” he says, a warm smile on his lips.

You blush at his words, your eyes meeting his. The one thing about him that’s stayed the same over the years. “Thank you,” you say shyly.

His smile turns into a grin, the same boyish smile that you’ve always loved. “Of course.” He lets his gaze linger on your face, drinking you in as if he’s trying to memorize every little detail. He’s unable to keep his hands to himself, and before you know it he’s reached towards you. His fingers wrap around your wrist, and he gently pulls your arm towards him.

The feeling of his skin against yours causes the dam to break, “Jake, I–”

He doesn’t let go as he lets both of your hands rest in his lap. That same electricity that used to pass between you is there, and you can tell that the connection you’ve always had is as strong as ever despite the distance. He speaks softly, knowing how heavy the air between you two is. “I know.”

“No, please I–” you start, but you’re quickly cut off as the dressing room door flies open and a blonde woman, around the same age as you steps inside.

The sudden intrusion is like a bucket of ice water, and you pull your hands away from him as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. He looks back at you, his expression soft and apologetic before he looks up at the new presence in the room. You look over at Jake, expecting to see some kind of reaction from him, but he actually just looks mildly annoyed.

“Hey, Viv,” he answers, turning his body to face her. She looks between the two of you, an expression on her face you can’t quite decipher.

She gives him a small smile, and she doesn’t even glance in your direction as she walks into the room. You try to stay as small as possible, as if trying not to be seen. She crosses her arms as she stands on the other side of the room. “How did the show go?” she asks, her voice is casual and unbothered. You suddenly feel like you shouldn’t be here.

“Was fine, got a little winded and lightheaded by encore,” he answers and she nods her head.

“Well, the crowd was big tonight and it got hot, plus all the lights. That'd make anybody winded,” she says, still keeping her focus on him. You sit there, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering why she seems so comfortable in his space. She starts to dig around in the bag on her shoulder and you turn to look at Jake.

The whole situation feels weird, and you don't understand why she is just standing there, going through her purse, while you and Jake sit there. His eyes flick over to you and you can see slight annoyance in them as he looks back at her.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. She’s not just some stranger. She’s here with Jake. For Jake. Oh god how could you be so stupid. Of course he’s seeing someone. You quickly shoot up, grabbing your bag and tossing it over your shoulder as quickly as you can, feeling so stupid to think tonight would be the night you’d work things out. She’s waiting for you to leave.

Jake’s eyes go wide as he sees what you’re doing, “Wait, no, Pops, where are you going?” He stands up from the couch, reaching his hand out to grab your arm but you pull away from him.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t know. I– You were amazing tonight, I’m sorry I–I didn’t know you— I’ll go–” you stammer, making your way to the door.

Jake practically lunges across the room, reaching the door at the same time you do. He turns you around to face him, the panic in his eyes apparent. “No, don’t go, let me explain–”

“No, no, you don’t have to. I understand. I shouldn’t have come back here. I don’t belong back here. I’m sorry,” you mumble pushing your way through the heavy wooden door.

“Poppy!” you hear him shout, his voice echoing through the busy hallway as you search for the nearest exit. You don’t turn around. You refuse to look back and let him see you like this. Your heart is absolutely more crushed than it ever has been, but you should have expected it. He is a rockstar and you’re…just Y/N.

He moved on, he found someone else to confide in. Someone that matches him. Someone else to trust with his secrets. Someone else to think of day and night, and finally you understand how he felt that night so long ago. Replaced.

You hear his voice fade as you walk out of the venue, leaving your heart behind you in a single, devastating moment. The warm night is replaced by a cold breeze as you step out, the tears falling down your face as you realize the past was just that. The past.

Frankenmuth, Michigan

December 31, 2022

The air is frigid outside, you’re sure this is the coldest winter you’ve ever experienced, even growing up here. There aren’t enough layers in the world, let alone in your suitcase. Thankfully in just two days you will be back home in Detroit where it's not too much warmer, but definitely not as cold as Frankenmuth. You’ve been home for the last two weeks visiting your parents, not seeing them nearly enough since you started at the law firm after graduation. It’s been nice to be home, but something about it feels different now. You are riddled with nostalgia and the memories seem to come back with a vengeance the longer you’re here. Memories you have all but pushed away lately, not letting them into your heart as you once did. Currently you and your parents are sitting in front of the fireplace sipping on wine as you watch the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve special on TV. The wine is warming you up a bit, but not nearly enough.

You’ve now brushed off dozens of invites from co-workers and even some old friends who are out on the town tonight, celebrating ringing in the new year. You know you should go, but something is telling you not to. Even your parents asked why you’re spending the evening at home instead of seeing old friends. You wish you had a good answer for them, but you don't.

“You really should go, honey,” your mom continues, finishing off her glass of red. “You’re only young once.”

“I know, but I just…I feel so disconnected from this place. I haven’t talked to these people since highschool,” you pause, “I just feel like I’m better off here.”

“I agree with your mother, hon,” your dad adds, “It will be good for you to get out. All you do is work these days. You deserve a night off.”

You let their words sink in as you look at your phone, seeing the ignored text from your old friend Isabelle begging you to meet her at Tiffany’s for a drink. Honestly, the thought of stepping into that bar again rattles you.

“Just one drink hon, ring in the new year,” your dad says, sending you an encouraging wink.

You look at her text again and let out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Maybe you’re right. It would be okay to let loose just a little. Tonight of all nights.”

“Thatta girl,” he says, nodding his head.

With the decision made you text Isabelle back, letting her know you will meet her there in thirty as you rush upstairs to change into something that isn't sweatpants and a hoodie.

It’s an eerie feeling walking into this bar, a place you used to frequent so often, so long ago. It’s been years since you've been back but it's exactly the same as you left it. The dining patrons are long gone, making way for the locals that use the bartop as their own personal therapy space, but tonight it’s a little different. It’s New Year's Eve and the bar is filled with unfamiliar faces. Of course, there are a few you recognize from high school, that much you expected. The air in the bar is much warmer than the air outside, thanks to the large group of people filling the small space. The lights are dim and music is playing from the old jukebox in the corner. The floor is already sticky from spilled drinks, and the air smells faintly of cigarettes.

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you want?” Isabelle asks, snaking her way through a group of people.

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you answer, knowing it doesn't really matter.

She disappears into the crowd and you look around in search of a table you can ditch your jacket at. Most are taken, but you spot one in a corner with no occupants. You walk briskly towards it, throwing your jacket down onto the inevitably sticky table top as you sit and wait for Isabelle. You let your eyes wander through the bar picking out familiar faces, and even taking in some new ones, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of uneasiness you’ve had since you walked through the door. Something is different, you just don’t know what.

A few minutes later a drink is placed in front of you that looks to be a whiskey and coke, and you secretly cheer that it's not something overly sweet.

“Made them a double cause the lines’ a bitch,” she says, taking her first gulp.

“Good call,” you smile, taking your own sip and letting the bubbles burn the back of your throat. Maybe your dad was right. You did need this. You and Isabelle sit and talk for a little while, letting the alcohol seep into your system and cast away your cares. But then you hear something. Something you haven’t heard in a long time. A song from long ago that has made a permanent home in your memories.

Through the crappy speakers you hear the opening notes to “Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” by Bad Company. You smile to yourself, thinking back on just how many times Jake played that album that summer. You both had practically every single lyric memorized by the time you left for college. A pang shoots through your chest as you picture him in your mind, and your mood suddenly sours.

“Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick,” you pause, “Save our table?”

“Duh, see you in a few,” she says, taking another gulp of her drink.

You begin to make your way to the bathroom, needing a minute to yourself to freshen up and get Jake out of your head. You finally make your way to the opposite side of the bar, the bathrooms in your sight. But much to your surprise, something else oddly familiar catches your eye and your heart lurches up to your throat. No. It can’t be.

His back is towards you, but you would recognize his shoulders and hair anywhere. You spot him with a group of guys, all drinking and having a good time. A wave of nostalgia hits hard, remembering how things were back in the day before you both went your separate ways and he shot to stardom. The way you could walk up to him without second guessing it. Now you’re not so sure you can.

You try to turn around and walk away, knowing it's best to just go, but something has you frozen to the floor. You can see the way he holds the crowd at the bar, telling stories and cracking jokes in the same way he did at parties back in high school. He's a star in every sense of the word, but when the laughter fades for a second, you can almost see the sadness underneath it all.

He doesn’t notice you, at least you think he doesn’t, as you push forward and rush into the bathroom. Your heart is pumping harder than it has in months and you feel like you might be sick. There is no way you are going to be able to get out of this bar without talking to him, so you decide you need to pull it together and pretend like he isn’t even here.

You fix your make up, and smooth down your hair, taking a good long look in the mirror. You’ve got this. It’s just Jake. You take a few deep breaths and square your shoulders, preparing to face him and any uncomfortable conversation that may follow. You open the door and walk out into the bar, looking around as you do. You don't see him at the bar he was at before and for a split second your brain doesn't register that fact at all, but as you make your way out to the dance floor you look a few tables over and realize he is standing there, with his hands in his pockets watching you with the same intensity you’ve always seen from him.

He looks so handsome and he doesn’t even know it. His long brown hair hanging over his shoulders, his corduroy shirt hanging open and messy over his t-shirt. He is exactly the Jake you’ve always known. The Jake you always wanted. There’s a mustache, too, you notice. The accent of hair, complimenting his upper lip in a way that has your entire chest heating. It’s the perfect touch to his pretty face, adding a masculine touch that you hadn’t known was necessary for his overall aura until this moment.

Because god did he look impossibly more alluring with that addition.

You know it’s only a matter of time before you two speak, and you have no idea what he is thinking. But for once, Jake doesn’t hide his feelings from you, his eyes are glued to you, refusing to look away. Willing you to come to him, and your body listens.

You walk towards him, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if you're walking through quicksand. Your eyes stay locked on his face despite the nervousness running through your veins, and you can feel the electricity pouring off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just stares at you. You can feel the memories of you together crashing through your head like a wave. You get closer and closer, the world around you fading away, until you’re standing right in front of him.

“It was you, wasn’t it. The song,” you ask, putting the pieces together immediately. “You knew I was here. You knew I would recognize it.��

His jaw clenches in response, and he lets a sad smile touch his lips before he says anything. “Yeah, it was. I saw you walk in. I knew it’d work,” he replies, the familiar rasp in his voice is softer than you remember, but still as deep and soothing as ever.

“Guess you were right,” you smirk, watching as his body language starts to soften.

He lets a soft chuckle escape, and he relaxes a little bit. You can see the tension melting away from his shoulders. “Some things never change, huh?” he says, his eyes roaming over your face and body briefly, taking in every detail he can.

“I didn’t know you were home,” you confess.

“I didn’t know you were home.” he says gently, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He looks down for a moment, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I should’ve told you.”

You nod your head, “I could’ve called you too,” you pause, biting your lip, “It’s just ever since that night–”

“That night was not what you think. I wish you would’ve let me explain, Pops.” he urges, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm.

“It's- It's the past now Jake, you don't owe me anything,” you answer, the nickname searing a sore spot in your heart.

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You know exactly what I owe you. But I’m not going to talk to you about this in a bar, surrounded by all these people,” he drops his hand from your arm, running it through his hair instead. “Come with me, please.”

You look around for Isabelle, but of course she is nowhere to be found, “Okay.”

He leads you out the back door of the bar, into the cool winter air. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and grabs one, placing it between his teeth before lighting it just as quickly. He looks over at you for a moment, watching as you rub your arms to keep warm. “You’re cold,” he observes, noticing the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

“My jacket is inside,” you answer.

He shrugs off his corduroy shirt, draping it over your shoulders, before pulling you in a bit closer to him. The smell of tobacco and his cologne overwhelm your senses as he presses against your side. The heat radiating off of him is warm, and you instinctively bring the shirt closer around you, breathing in the familiar smell of him.

“Listen, Pops,” he pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette, “I’ve wanted to call you a hundred times since that night, explain what you think you saw…”

It hurts you to know he's thought about it too. “So why didn't you?”

“I was scared,” he admits bluntly, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he does. “You are the last person that I ever wanted to hurt, believe me. But you didn’t even let me get a word in. You left and just…” he sighs. “I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. Still don’t. I think we are here right now in this shitty ass bar because the universe decided it was time for us to figure this shit out.”

“Maybe it is,” you agree.

He lets out a long exhale of smoke, his breath visible in the cold air. “You’ve always been smarter than me,” he says, throwing his cigarette to the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know where to start, but I need you to hear me out here.”

“I'm listening,” you answer.

He paces to the edge of the sidewalk, running a nervous hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “I know you think you know what you saw that night, but it wasn’t… That woman, Viv– Vivienne, she is our Tour Medic. Like our travel doctor. A few days before that show…I’d been sick. I didn’t want to admit it then, but I will now. I was sick, too sick. I shouldn’t have been performing. We needed to cancel those shows. I hid it the best I could, and I shouldn’t have and it made it all worse,” he pauses. “That night she came in to check on me after the show. I’d avoided her as long as I could and I think she just knew. She was coming to tell me that she was taking me to the hospital for my cough. She and I both knew it wasn’t normal and my time was up.”

“I– Yeah, I remember…I asked you…”

“I know. I know you did. Even you knew. I was going to tell you… But then, you– I don’t know you just freaked on me, and left. I wanted to explain but I wasn’t ready to admit what was going on.” he pauses, his lips trembling from the cold. “I went to the hospital that night and found out I had pneumonia. Bad. I– I was there for three days. I laid in that hospital bed and replayed you running out over and over again, Poppy. I wanted to call you and tell you but I just couldn’t. I was drained mentally and physically.”

“Jake, oh my god– I– I feel so stupid– I’m so sorry–”

“No, Pops, it’s not your fault. I know how it looked. I was just being too selfish to tell the truth.” he admits. “But now, you know.”

“You were in the hospital, Jake. I had no idea, I–We used to tell each other everything…What if something happened to you and I–” you trail off.

His body tenses at your words, and his expression morphs into a mixture of guilt and regret. “No, you’re right,” he says, defeated. “I was just…ashamed, I guess, that my body was failing me. It was such a low point…But I shouldn’t have let you walk out like that. I should have chased after you.” He looks back over at you, your face illuminated by the glowing neon bar signs and slowly he brings his hand to cup your cheek. “I can’t believe I let you go.”

Suddenly you hear the inside of the bar erupt with cheering and the loud countdown starting. “It’s almost midnight,” you whisper.

He looks back at the bar, then back at you, “I guess it is. I didn’t even realize it.” He says, his eyes glued to your face. The countdown gets closer and closer, and you can tell he is nervous. He looks almost afraid as he continues to talk. “I’ve really missed you, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so many times over these past few years, and it feels like no time has passed, but everything has changed,” he pauses, “I wish things could go back to the way it was.”

The world feels so still in this moment, even with all the ruckus inside the bar. “Ten seconds,” you note, eyes glued to his face as his warm hand rests on your cheek. He steps forward, his body so close to yours that you feel as though you’ll become one in this moment. The cold forgotten, his body almost feverish beside you. He runs his thumb across your cheek, his eyes glued to yours as the countdown gets lower and lower.

“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with want.

He takes another step closer, his body inches apart from yours, and his lips only a breath away from yours “Poppy,” he whispers, his hot, shaky breath caressing your skin as he does. “I need you.”

“Three, two, one…”

Everyone in the bar cheers all around you. He’s so close now, you can hear the sharp inhales that are escaping his lips, and in the moments after the chaos of the New Year erupts, he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips are on yours in seconds, his hand pulling you in, his touch soft and needy.

The kiss is slow, it’s as if time has frozen in this sweet, tender moment. His hands slide into your hair, bringing your face to his, wanting all of you. The kiss is quickly growing desperate and needy. He pushes you against the brick wall of the building, his body pressing into yours, your heart racing as his hand moves from your hair to your waist. He gently lifts your leg pulling it around his waist as this kiss of reunion deepens even more. It’s filled with emotion and years of wanting, and your body is filled with an overwhelming sense of electricity.

He kisses you with everything he's got. His body craving your touch for so long. He pulls your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth effortlessly, as if he’s memorized every curve, every crevice. You feel your stomach churning with need for him. The need for more.

You bring your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate with each passing moment. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tighter against his body, as if he can’t stand to have you away from him for even a second. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he lets out a low moan, his need for you stronger than ever. It’s as if no time has passed at all. Suddenly you’re right back in his basement kissing him for the first time.

You break the kiss, his name falling from your lips as your eyes open to meet his. “Jake...”

“P-Pops,” he stutters, struggling to find the words through his ragged breaths. “Fuck, I never should’ve let you go. It’s you, it’s always been you.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his grip on you just as tight, if not tighter. “You– You just light a fire in me that everyone else seems to put out.”

You let your lips press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw before moving to his ear, “I’ll always be the one with a match to bring you back.”

“Goddamnit, Poppy,” His eyes flutter shut, and you can see that the sensation of your lips on his skin has driven him towards a bliss he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. The way your body fits against his is as natural now as it's ever been. It's as if you were molded to fit in his arms– as if nothing else in the world could ever feel as perfect as this. “I never want to let you go. I'm so goddamn sick of letting you go,” he whispers.

The desire is growing between your legs, and you can feel the evidence of his pressed against your stomach. Instinctively you rub against him, causing a growl to leave his chest. You’re no longer eighteen in the basement. You’re adults who need more.

He moves his body against yours, a low moan rising from his throat as he does. It’s as if he can feel the fire he’s lit up inside of you, and he’s desperate to fan the flames of the inferno that has always been there. “I’ve missed you so damn much,” he gasps, his hands starting to roam over your body. “Say you feel this. Say you feel it too.”

“I've always felt it Jake. Always.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses, before sinking his teeth in gently. His hands are everywhere, as if he can't decide where he wants to touch first. He presses himself against you, his body flushed with need. “I want you,” he whispers, his words hot against your skin.

“I want you.” you pant, arching your neck to give him more.

He takes full advantage, his lips and teeth working their way up and down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He can feel your need growing, and he responds to it with his own. He presses his body against yours with a primal force, his hand moving to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his. The kiss is hungry and needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, searching for what he has been missing as his free hand finds the waistband of your jeans.

His hand begins to make a slow descent into your jeans, his rough fingertips sliding against your soft delicate skin. They brush the hem of your panties as his tongue continues to memorize yours. Your heart is pounding, your body aching for his touch where you need it most as the sound of “Auld Lang Syne” and distant fireworks boom around you.

A soft sound of need escapes from the back of your throat, the anticipation of his touch building an excruciating ache between your thighs. He uses his thumb to brush against the front of your panties, teasing you, as he breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin. “Do you know how badly I want you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, before returning to your neck and biting down softly.

You nod against him, still breathing harder than ever. He takes his time, his fingers running a lazy path against your skin, and you feel the heat growing between your legs as his touch gets closer.

He lets his fingers graze over the thin lace material of your underwear, gently tracing up and down in an agonizingly careful manner. His lips break away from your neck and move instead to your ear, his teeth taking the lobe gently. “I’ve dreamed about you like this, every night since the last time we touched,” he whispers, his voice raspy and low. “I’ve ached to feel your skin on mine, your body trembling under my touch.”

You feel his fingers move lower and lower until the heat of his touch is coated in your desire for him. “Jake,” you whine, totally lost in this moment with him.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels just how much you want him, and he lets out a low moan that makes your whole body tremble. “Fuck,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow circles over your warm sensitive flesh. His lips find their way back to your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your spine tingle as you whine.

“Shhh,” he coo’s, silencing your whimpers with a soft kiss. He slips his fingers past the fabric, his touch growing more intense as he finally finds what he’s been craving this whole time. “So soft. So beautiful,” he gasps. He moves his hand in a gentle rhythm, his fingers slipping between your folds, finding your sweet spot effortlessly. You feel euphoric, and at complete mercy to his touch. “Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I feel everything.”

His fingers move faster as they dip inside, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can, desperate to feel every inch of you. “I dreamed up a hundred different ways to make you fall apart in my arms,” he whispers, his eyes locking on yours, “and nothing comes close to reality. Come home with me, Pops. Stay with me.”

Just as you start to feel your release creeping closer, the bar door slams next to you, pulling you both from the moment. Your eyes snap to Jake’s and his to yours as he quickly realizes the compromising position you’re in, removing his hand from your jeans.

He quickly steps back, straightening his shirt as you desperately try to regain your composure. You look around, hoping that whoever walked out of the bar doesn't look your way and catch you two in the state you were in. You're both panting, breaths ragged and desperate, and forced to ignore the needy ache that lingers between your legs.

It's as if a bucket of water has been dumped over your head, making you see clearly. Your eyes meet Jake's, his expression still waiting for you to answer his question. But as this rush of clarity takes hold of you, you realize exactly what you've done.

Your eyes are glued to each other, but this now feels different. Everything feels different. It’s as if the air around you is suddenly thick with unspoken words, the gravity of the situation crashing down around you both. He’s just staring at you, his chest still heaving as he tries to slow his own breathing. He clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs in the air. “Poppy…”

Your head begins shaking, “No, Jake, we– we can’t do this– we…”

You're at battle with your own mind, fighting for what you want versus what you know is right.

His whole body goes rigid, the disappointment in your words written all over his face. He lets out a shaky breath, as if it physically pains him, “No– Don’t say that, we can, Poppy, please,” he begs softly.

“Jake we– we’re strangers. We know nothing about each other anymore. We– You’re a rockstar, you live in Nashville. I live in Detroit, I finally work for a firm. This is what we wanted. Isn’t it? This was our dream right? We can’t– You can’t…”

He swallows hard, trying to process what you’re telling him. You know you’re right, this is what you both wanted. He runs a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes looking for something to distract him from the crushing reality you just threw out in front of him.

“I know,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, his mind and body still screaming to hold you. But the reality of it all is hitting you both like a train, and he’s trying desperately to keep his mind present in the moment. “I know all of that…I just–I don’t give a damn that I’m a rockstar, or that you live in Detroit,” he mutters, a defensive tone to his voice, “It’s you that’s missing, Pops. All day. All night. It’s you that’s in my head day in and day out. I want you. I always will. That is never going to change. We will never be strangers.”

Tears start to form in your eyes at his confession. You want to go with him. Run away and pretend nothing else matters. But it does, and you can’t. It can never be, no matter how badly you both want it.

His voice cracks, and he can feel the walls around his heart starting to crumble as he looks at you. He reaches out, taking your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “It’s always been you, Poppy. It will always be you,” he whispers, his hand continuing to graze over your skin as if he was trying to memorize every tiny detail. “So please, just– forget it all. Come home with me.”

Your lips begin to tremble, knowing that you’re about to break his heart. Again. “Jake… I can’t.” you say, letting a tear slip from your eye.

You see the moment the weight of your words hits him, like a slow motion car crash that feels unavoidable. The look of complete defeat on his face makes you want to take it all back, tell him that you’re just as desperate as he is to throw everything aside. But you can’t. It’s just not possible. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face, and the space between your two bodies growing feels like your heart shattering all over again. “Okay.”

For some reason, that breaks you, your tears falling faster now as you see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss him softly one last time.

He returns your kiss with his own, gently taking your face in his palms. It’s as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, the way he’s holding you, the way your lips fit so perfectly together. He doesn’t want to let go, and he holds the kiss as long as he can, until breathing becomes a desperate fight for air. When he finally does break the kiss, he whispers against your lips just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s still us, Pops.” and with that, he lets you go, leaving him there as small snow flurries begin to fall to the ground.

With a heavy heart you finally make your way inside your childhood home, tossing your coat onto the couch. You collapse into your bed, letting the tears fall now that you’re alone in your solitude again. You can hear the snow falling harder now, tapping against your bedroom window. You can still feel the faint remnants of his touch on your skin, his warmth lingering in your heart as you remember the taste of his lips. Jake. Your Jake. Yours for only minutes before you pushed him away. But you know it's for the best.

You drag yourself up from the bed and change into your cozy pajamas, realizing you are still wearing Jake’s shirt. You bring it to your nose and breathe in his smell, sending you into a new round of tears. You put the shirt back on and crawl back into bed, needing to feel his presence close to you. You bring the neck of the shirt up, enveloping yourself in it like a blanket, your body still trembling with need.

It feels like it's been hours. You're exhausted, but your mind still won't put Jake to rest. There’s no escaping the fact that you're still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were the first time you met. As if he is thinking of you too, your phone buzzes next to your head, his name illuminating the screen with a text.

Jake 1:42 AM: I keep thinking about what happened. I can still taste you on my lips. I know what you said, and I understand but I can’t let it be over, Pops. I just can’t.

Your heart shatters reading his message. You know how he feels because you feel the exact same way. You don’t even know what to say to him, so you just don’t. You lock your phone and put it back on your nightstand, turning off the lamp and attempting to sleep this terrible, beautiful night away. There is, however, an unbelievable thrum between your legs that you can’t seem to ignore.

You toss and turn, trying so hard to sleep, but it’s pointless. The only thought going through your brain is of Jake. That deep need for him is building in intensity, your body wanting his touch desperately, your mind remembering every detail of the time you spent wrapped together against the building just an hour ago. You let your hand wander down beneath the sheets, your fingers pushing beneath the waistband of your pants.

He’s all you can think of. It’s as if the flood gates are now wide open, and you’re finally allowing yourself to let Jake occupy every space in your mind and body, and there is nothing else you need. You close your eyes, but all you can see is Jake’s face. His strong, handsome features, the way his lips form as he speaks…

With your eyes shut tight, you picture his body hovering over yours. The scent of him, his touch, the way his body felt against yours as he leaned into you. You let yourself fantasize about him being here with you, wanting you and only you. You imagine the way his lips felt all over your skin, the way he let his teeth graze over your neck and collarbone. The memory of it makes you shiver and your fingers work faster and faster, seeking the release you’ve craved for so long.

You feel like you’re right at the peak of surrendering to this imaginary version of him, when you hear your phone start to ring. Your eyes shoot open as you pull your hand from under your sheets. You reach for your phone but this time your brain is too hazy to think clearly. You see his name on the screen, along with a picture of him you set as his photo years ago. Against your better judgement you slide your thumb across the screen, needing to hear his voice.

“Hello?” you breathe, your voice coming out as a breathy pant.

His voice sounds soft and vulnerable, “Hey…” he breathes, sighing on the other end of the line, “I didn’t think you’d answer…I was just laying here, can’t sleep. I don’t know why I called, I just, I saw you read my text earlier and you didn’t answer– I don’t want this to be us. I never want that.”

“I know,” you pause, trying to even your breathing, “I'm sorry.”

“How can this be it?” his voice sounds strained now, the emotion in it pulling at your heart, “How is this the end? I can't make sense of it, all I can think about is you.”

Hearing his deep, gravely voice has your hand slipping back under the sheets, resuming its previous work. “I– I never said it was the end…”

“The way you walked away sure made it seem that way,” he says, and it breaks you in two.

“It took everything I had Jake, you have to know that,” you say, your voice even more breathy than before and you know that you need to calm down before he takes notice, but the sound of his voice has your hand continuing to move.

He notices the slight change in your tone, picking up on the way your breathing gets more shallow and more uneven, “Are…Are you okay? You sound…different. Where are you? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I'm at home now. In my bed,” you pause, breathing into the phone, “Where are you?”

He lets out a shaky sigh into the phone. You know he’s figured it out, and if you know him like you think you do he isn’t going to change the subject.

He wants nothing more than to be there, to hear every noise he could pull out of you, to feel every shiver and tremble as he worships every inch of your body. “I’m…I’m in my bed too. But I haven’t turned the light off yet.”

“Turn it off, Jake,” you breathe.

Your self control is gone. You want this. No, you need this.

You can hear him inhale a sharp, stuttering breath, a quiet, breathy moan escaping him as he takes in your words. He knows what you’re asking for. He’s wanted it in some form for years. The phone jostles a few times before he says, “Done.”

You hum in response, continuing to run your fingers through your soaking wet folds. Something about the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne wrapped around you has you soaking in this moment and throwing your cares to the wind.

“Let me send an Uber, Poppy, please,” he manages to breathe, the desperation in his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Come to my hotel. I fucking hate not finishing what I start.”

“So finish it,” you tease.

“God damn. Get in the Uber, Y/N.”

“No, no Uber. Just this. Just...talk to me Jake,” you whine.

His breath catches in his throat and he lets out a groan, the sound going straight to your core. You can hear him moving around in his bed, shifting to a more comfortable position, the sheets rustling as he does. You know he wants to touch himself, but he’s trying to resist. “I don’t know if I can just talk. Not knowing you’re…like that.”

“For what it’s worth, you felt better,” you confess in an airy breath.

“Fuck, Pops,” he groans, “You don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about you like that. I’d die to have you on my fingers again.”

“I want you,” you breathe, “But I know this is the only way I can have you.”

He is quiet for a bit, the only sounds you can hear from him are the heavy breaths he’s trying so hard to control. You’re picturing it all, imagining exactly what he looks like on the other end of the line.“You can have me,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, “I’m all yours, baby.”

“You've never been mine, Jake…”

“I’ve always been yours,” his words are spoken quickly, his voice almost a pleading whine. “I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His words sear through you, your fingers circling your clit faster now, causing a whine of pleasure to leave your chest.

“Fucking hell, Poppy.” His voice comes through the phone, raw and ragged. “Are you…Is there a way…Can I see you at least?”

You think about it for a second, and you know the sight of him will send you straight to that sweet release you've been chasing all night. “Only if you join me…” you counter.

“Do you think my hand isn’t already wrapped around my cock, listening to you whimper like that? Thinking about you touching yourself in all the ways I’ve dreamed of?”

“Show me, Jake.” you breathe.

You quickly switch your phone to Facetime, your thumb hesitating over the call button. You know that there’s no coming back from this, but you can’t help yourself. You need to see him, and you’re not going to let your fear stop either of you from taking what you both want. “Answer the call.”

You press the button and watch as his face fills your screen, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he takes, his silver necklace laying against his body. He’s propped up against the headboard, his skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat that makes your body heat up even more. “You…” he whispers, “God, look at you. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Jake…” you moan his name, your hand moving faster and faster.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. I can’t….I need…” he stops, unable to find the right words.

You stop suddenly, realizing that he can’t see that much of you. “Hold on,” you say, dropping your phone to the bed as you peel your shirt over your head, leaving your chest exposed. This will be the first time he’s seen you like this, but you feel more confident than ever. You prop your phone up on a pillow, allowing him the full visual of you.

He sucks in a sharp breath as your shirt comes off, his eyes going wide as he stares at your bare chest, completely mesmerized by you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You are so perfect. It’s not even possible that someone is this perfect,” You watch his hand move, disappearing under the sheets and moving slowly down his body until he starts to move the sheets so you can watch. “I want you to see me, too.”

It’s dark but you watch as he props his phone up the same way, giving you the exact same view. His cock is hard and throbbing in his hand, bigger than you ever dreamed of, but exactly what you felt beneath his pants at the bar tonight. “Jake, I wish–”

“Say it,” he responds quickly, unable to wait another second to hear your words. He’s almost painfully hard right now, but he needs to hear it all. “Please say it, baby. Talk to me.”

The new pet name sends you spiraling, admitting things you would never admit in the light of day. “I want to feel you. I need to know how you would feel inside of me. I need you, Jake. All of you,” you whine, watching his hand stroke his cock a little faster.

“Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything like I want that. I need you, too. I need to feel every single inch of your body. I need to do all the things I’ve dreamed about. You have no idea how many times I’ve laid here thinking of you. Wishing that I had you in my bed.” He stops his hand, trying to keep his mind together. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” you answer.

He pauses for a moment, as if he’s afraid to give in to the moment completely. But his need for you is stronger than his common sense. “Take your panties off, but don't touch yourself again. Not until I tell you to. I want you to listen, I want you to feel this.”

You comply, sliding your panties over your legs and tossing them to the floor. He can see all of you now, your wetness glowing in the dim light of the phone.

“You’re everything,” he moans softly, his hand moving again. “You are as perfect now as you’ve ever been. I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this.”

“Tell me what to do, Jake,” you plead.

The control he’s desperately trying to keep is starting to crack. Every part of him is wanting to rip that phone from his hand and be there with you. “Touch your inner thighs,” he requests, his voice sounding low and strained. “Just your thighs, don’t touch anywhere else.”

You comply, running your fingers over your thighs as the sound of his voice gives you goosebumps.

He watches you, his eyes glued to the way your fingers move over your skin. His hand slowly working over himself, his need to touch you growing. “Good girl…Does it feel good to touch your skin?” he asks, his hand moving faster.

“Yes, but I wish it was you,” you admit, your legs starting to shake with anticipation.

“I know,” he whispers, “I know, babydoll. You have no idea how desperately I need it to be my hands.” He bites the inside of his cheek, fighting back the words he wants to say.

“Jake,” you practically moan his name, your back arching as the need for him consumes you from the inside out. You let your eyes flutter closed as you let your hands roam over that most sensitive part of you. “It feels so good but it’s not enough. I need to…I need…” you plead, your whimpers filling the void between you.

He can’t take it anymore. Your desperate whimper has shattered the last bit of his resolve, leaving only pure desire in its place. As much as he wants to watch, to see every bit of you come unraveled, he can’t stand it anymore. He has to see you. “Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes flick to his, seeing them dark and blown out with lust.

“Spread your legs, let me see you,” he growls, and slowly you do as he says, placing the phone back down against the pillow.

Watching you spread your legs is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. The way you’re trembling underneath your own touch makes him let out a soft moan, his hand starting to work faster. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, completely entranced by you. “Touch your clit for me, baby.”

Your hand moves without hesitation as his words ignite something inside of you. He gasps, completely hypnotized by everything he’s seeing. “Slowly, baby,” he whispers, drinking every moment in. “Don’t rush it.”

Your fingers move in soft, slow circles over your clit as you do what he requests, desperate to obey him. You’re already so close to that edge, his voice is sending you flying. “That’s it, just like that,” he’s praising you, and the look in his eyes says he’s as close as you are. “Keep doing it, baby. Don’t stop.”

“Are you touching yourself, Jake? Are you hard for me?” you ask, knowing he needs this release as much as you do.

He groans, his head dropping back as your voice fills his ears. “God, yes. You have no idea how hard I am right now. All I want….No, all I need is to bury myself inside of you. I need to feel you, all of you, every warm inch… I need it more than air. I need you, baby. I need you so badly.” he says, flipping his phone around to show you his beautiful cock as he works it with his hand. Precum has started to gather on the tip and you wonder how he tastes.

“I want to taste you, Jake. I want to feel you in my throat. I want to swallow down every last inch of you. So fucking bad,” you whine.

“Jesus…” his words come out as a strangled gasp. “I want that, too. I’ve dreamed of having your mouth wrapped around me, of seeing you on your knees, swallowing my cum. I want it so badly, baby. I’d give you everything.” he says. “Put two fingers in baby, move your thumb to your clit.”

You sink two fingers into yourself, the camera positioned perfectly for him to watch how your body takes the digits. “Oh god, Jake,” you cry, wishing more than anything it was him.

“Oh fuck, look at you. I’m never going to forget this. I’m never going to be the same after seeing you like this.” He takes a moment to just watch your body, his hand still moving furiously on his length. “I need you to keep going, just like that, but start with a third one. I want to see how much you can take, because that’s how much I’m going to give you. As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m going to wreck you, Poppy.”

“Please Jake, I’m so close,” you whine, adding a third finger.

His chest is heaving, his hand moving at a rapid pace. His eyes watch your every movement, drinking it all in. “I know, baby,” he responds, his voice ragged. “I can see you getting tight around those fingers. I need to hear you Poppy, I need to see your face as you come for me.”

“Come with me, Jake. Please,” you beg.

“Together, then, ” he breathes. “I’m fucking close. Come for me, baby. Right now.” He’s on the edge, and watching you is going to take him over. “I’m right there, you have no idea. Just come, baby. Look at me, let me see my girl fall apart for me.”

Your eyes lock on his as you fall apart against your own fingers. Your mind tricks you into thinking it's him, letting loose the most powerful release you’ve felt in years as his name falls from your lips.

He sees the wave hit you, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Hearing his name in that moment does it, it’s all he needs. He gasps as he watches you and lets go, “Fuuuuck,” he whimpers, shuddering as release begins to wash over him. “Y/N…Poppy...” he grunts, “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming,” he grunts, his body tensing as his cum lands on his bare chest in several hot spurts.

It’s like a freight train, the way it builds and then comes crashing down. And then it’s over. All that’s left besides the ragged breathing is the blissful silence. And as it clears, you find him there staring at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you. He looks so vulnerable, so open. His body is still, but his chest is rising and falling as the last hints of what you did are still visible on his chest in the dim light. The words hang between you, heavy with the impact of everything you just did.

“Poppy,” he whispers, still catching his breath.

That word breaks your heart, and you find yourself unable to speak for a minute. The weight of all of this is taking over your chest and you have to swallow to find your voice. “Jake,” is all you can manage to say.

He just stares at you. It’s like a dream. You’ve been here, in this moment a million times, but it’s never been real until tonight. All of this feels so impossible, and you’re still trying to make sense of it.

“I…” he tries to speak, but his voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”

Your guilt overtakes you, “I'm sorry...That I ran from you again. I didn’t want to. I just–”

He shakes his head, the pain of it all visible in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I get it. We both know why you did. I just wish…” he trails off, the words caught in his throat.

“I wish things were different,” you finish.

“Yeah,” he sighs heavily, the weight of it all hitting him. “We’ve been wishing that since the day we met,” It hangs in the air for a bittersweet moment before he speaks again. “Maybe in another life.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” you whisper. “But Jake?”

“Yeah, P?” The way he says it, the way he says your name, it feels so intimate.

“We’re still us, right?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He stares at you for a moment, taking everything in. “Yeah, we’re still us.” He responds quietly. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, but his face is filled with so many different emotions. “We’ll always be us.”

A single tear falls down your cheek, “You promise? Forever?”

His heart is breaking, watching that tear fall. He’s desperate to brush it away, but he can’t. He can’t touch you. He can’t hold you. He can’t tell you that it’ll be okay. He just has to watch from afar, wishing for more. “Yes, baby. Forever. I promise.”

You nod your head and swallow down the lump in your throat, finally meeting his eyes again, “Happy New Year, Jake.”

You can tell he is shattered just the same as you are, but he is doing everything he can to keep it together. “Happy New Year, Poppy,” he responds quietly, trying his absolute hardest to steady his voice. “I’m glad you were my midnight kiss.”

“Me too, Jake…” you trail off.

He forces a soft smile, trying desperately to hold on. “I should let you get some rest,” he says quietly, the words making his chin tremble.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s late…”

“Okay,” he whispers, hating every second of this. “You get some sleep.”

“You too,” you murmur.

“I’ll try,” he says, his voice so weak. “Goodnight, my beautiful Poppy.”

Your voice comes out cracked and thick with emotion, “Goodnight, Jake.”

You want so badly to say more. But the lump in your throat is too strong. You stare at him through the screen, trying to memorize every tiny detail in this moment, knowing that this is how things are going to be.

“Bye, love,” he breathes, desperately hoping that you don’t hear the word that slipped out, but you do. The screen goes dark, the call ending as you drop your phone to the bed.

For a minute, you just lie there, staring into the darkness. It just feels so empty without him. The loneliness is almost oppressive, and you need…something. You’re desperate for his touch, for his smell, for anything. You finally sit up, grabbing his shirt that you had pulled off earlier and putting it back on. You crawl under the covers, pulling the shirt over your head.

You curl up to his shirt, pulling it up over your nose and closing your eyes. It feels like if you could just will it hard enough, maybe you’d feel him here, in your bed, holding you. But you can’t, and you know you have to live with the memories of how he felt pressed up against you at the bar, instead. He’s just a few miles away, on the other side of town, in his bed, probably thinking the same goddamn thoughts. And here you are, separated from him, but no less in love with him than you ever were. Your arm is draped over your pillow, your eyes fixed on the wall across from the bed. You’re trying desperately not to cry, but the tears start anyway. You pull his shirt over your eyes, trying to just disappear in it, hoping it will give you just a bit of comfort. But it doesn’t.

You know you have to live with the decision you made, even though it's not what either of you wants. You let yourself cry until you can’t anymore and then you just lie there, in the darkness of your childhood bedroom, holding his shirt like a goddamn lifeline. You’re fighting the sobs that are trying to tear out of your chest.

It just doesn’t make sense. You’ve always been so sure of yourself, and of your life. But right now, the only thing you can be sure of is that you love this man more than you ever thought possible, and you’re going to have to spend the rest of your life knowing that you will never be able to tell him how you really feel about him. How you’ve always felt about him, because though it may be true, it doesn’t change anything. You can’t be together, and that's what hurts the most.

November 10, 2026

Detroit, Michigan

You drop your car keys into the ceramic dish by your front door, the metallic clang echoing through the house. Your coat is dripping with rain, the weather not giving you a single ray of sun the entire day, in fact the forecast even calls for snow. As you hang it on the coat rack you’re sure to fish your phone out of your pocket, still receiving a few sporadic birthday texts here and there.

There’s a text from your parents congratulating you on your milestone birthday, a few messages from friends and of course the obligatory ones from random old classmates you haven’t seen since high school. You’re almost at the bottom of the messages when you’re suddenly hit with a wave of disappointment. You don’t know if you were expecting him to reach out today, but it doesn’t make you feel any less deflated that he hasn’t. Not a call, not a text, no flowers, nothing. Part of you wonders if he’s finally moved on from your friendship, or whatever it was.

Today was a busy day like any other, maybe even busier than usual. You spent most of the day preparing your client in the office for trial next week. It’s everything you’ve ever worked for. You were finally living the life you always dreamed of, but for some reason, you knew something was missing. It felt incomplete.

You drop onto the couch, the heavy November rain against the windows is the only noise in the house. Now that you are finally home, your exhaustion is starting to hit you, and your thirty minute commute in the rain and traffic didn’t help. You reach for the remote on the coffee table and flick the T.V. on. Nothing is really jumping out at you as you browse through the channels so you just leave it on the news, not really bothering to pay attention.

You can’t help but dwell on the fact that you haven’t heard from Jake today. Today of all days is the one you count on each year. Big beautiful poppies always show up at your door when you least expect it, but now at 6:30 with no delivery trucks in sight, you let your heart fall. You lean your head back against your couch, letting your eyes close as you think of all the years you took it for granted. You can’t help but smile when you think about it. How thoughtful he was to send poppies specifically. They always were significant to you, a special moment between you and Jake all those years ago.

You can remember it clear as day. Jake was the first to get his license having a birthday in April, his beat up old sedan now his pride and joy. He insisted he drive you everywhere, to school, to work, everywhere. He just loved the freedom. It was about a month after he got his license when you got a text from him, telling you he wanted to take you somewhere. This wasn’t strange because again, he insisted on driving you everywhere. But this was different, it was early in the morning, and he told you it was a bit of a drive. He gave you no other details, but told you to be ready for him to pick you up in an hour. It was a warm day, dressing yourself in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top, fastening your hair into a braid as you waited to hear his car pull into your driveway.

The engine of the car was loud, the windows rolled down. Music was blasting from the stereo as you opened the passenger door to the car. He was already turned to face you, a wide grin on his face, “You ready?” he asks, looking you up and down, with a nod you reach for the door handle as he speaks again.“Well, get in, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.”

You spent two whole hours on the road, him not giving you a single clue to where you were going the entire time. You’d never been with him in the car for this long, but there wasn’t a single nerve coursing through you. You were completely at ease, you remember that perfectly. He sang along to every song that came on and you couldn’t help but to stare at him, even then you were totally and utterly in love with him.

When the car started to slow, you saw it. Right there through the passenger side window you saw the biggest field of flowers you’d ever seen. You didn’t even know the place existed. It was stunning, as far as the eye could see, flowers. Thousands of them. Red, yellow, orange, pink, every color you could imagine. Your eyes were filled with wonder, and you looked over at him, his eyes still on the road, but his smile was present.

“I knew you would love this,” he said as he pulled off the main road. He brought the car to a stop and turned to look at you, studying the awestruck look on your face. “Come on,” he said simply, climbing out of the car and walking around to your side to open the door for you.

As you got out you walked along the overgrown pathway towards the field of flowers, the sun shining down harshly on your shoulders as bees buzzed around overhead. “Where are we?” you asked, letting him lead you.

“Fennville,” he smirks, flipping his sunglasses down to his nose.

“How did you know this was here, we are in the middle of nowhere?” you question.

“Heard some people talking about it at Kroger, thought of you.” he answers, rubbing his hand over his mouth.

“Do you know what kind of flowers these are? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Yeah, they’re poppies.” he smiles, snatching one up from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. Your heart swelled at the act and it was right then you had a new favorite flower.

He led you deep into the field, the two of you spending hours exploring and picking the beautiful flowers. He eventually sat down in the middle of the field, lying down to watch the sky, patting the ground next to him for you to join him. You laid next to him, your heads turned to look at one another. You remember exactly how the sun cast his face in the most incredible glow, the flecks of gold in his eyes stood out more than ever, and the freckles that dotted his nose were almost shimmering. Your mind drifts back to how effortlessly you two could just be together. You couldn’t get enough of his attention, and he was never scared to give it to you. You just existed together, comfortably, calmly.

He twirled a beautiful red petaled stem between his fingers as he looked up to the sky, listening to the nature that surrounded the two of you. “You know, these kind of remind me of you.” he says, softly.

“Really?” you breathe, feeling sleepiness take you over as you lounge in the warm sun.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, staring at the flower between his fingers. “They’re not afraid to stand out, to be bold. They grow wild and free and they are just so full of joy. You can’t help but smile when you see them. The rest of the field is so plain, but they fight to get their share of the sun. Just like you.” He looks over at you when you don’t respond. You’re almost asleep, the heat of the sun and the beautiful afternoon sending you into a blissful trance.

You turn to look over at him, he is staring up at the sky, his profile completely visible. You’d never been around anyone who paid such close attention to the little details about you, the thought alone made your heart skip a beat.

“So soft and beautiful,” he continues, letting the stem fall from his fingers and reaching over to lightly lay the flower between the two of you, “and you’re just as unique as these are. They don’t grow everywhere, they’re rare.”

You let his words sink into you, and unbeknownst to him you felt exactly the same way about him. You looked to the field, the poppies dancing hypnotically in the breeze around you, and the colors on their petals almost sparkled in the sunlight. You were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of them, and every single one of them was beautiful.

That was the day your nickname was born, Jake refusing to call you anything else after that. You loved it, it was special, and no one else knew why. They didn’t need to. There was no hiding the flush from your cheeks that day, or the flutter in your heart each time he let it slip out. You couldn’t deny its significance, you were completely lost to the boy that was lying next to you in the field of poppies, and you didn’t know it then, but you always would be.

As beautiful and special as the memory was to you, it also hurt, knowing that today was the first time since that day that he hasn’t sent them to you on your birthday. The memory now feels tainted and forgotten. You pull yourself up from the couch and make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine to try and ease the pain that has suddenly crept up upon you.

You feel the cold air from the open fridge as you pull out a bottle of Pinot Grigio, the neck of the bottle clinks against the edge of the glass as you fill it up more than you should. You move to the counter and lean against it, staring blankly out the kitchen window into your backyard. Darkness has settled in, and you're reminded once again that you are entirely alone with these thoughts. No one to pull you out of your head, no one to whisper sweet nothings to you.

You even tried to make plans with friends tonight, hoping to share a few drinks and laughs to ring in your thirtieth, but each person you asked had plans, or perfectly valid reasons they couldn’t. Families to tend to, and partner work events. If you didn’t feel alone then, you certainly do now. It’s not like the weather was the best either, all around this day was a bust.

You stand in the empty kitchen, surrounded by all the silence and feeling so utterly alone. You lift the glass to your lips and take a heavy swig. You try to shake off the feeling that this might just be the most miserable birthday you've ever had. Unable to stand the silence a moment longer you wander over to your album collection, your fingers searching through the shelf for the one album you know will help soothe the ache inside you. You smile when you see the familiar cover, pulling the vinyl from the sleeve and placing it gently on the turntable. The unmistakable sound of Bad Company begins to play through the speakers as you sit on your couch and drink your wine, wondering where Jake is tonight and if he feels this too.

You stare out the window, watching the rain and now snow fall together, your head starting to feel fuzzy. You drink your wine as you listen to “Weep No More”, wishing that it would numb you in ways that would make the ache disappear, but it doesn’t. It just reminds you of how lonely you are, how lonely you have been for so long. As the guitar solo sounds through the speakers, you lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes.

Next thing you know you find yourself waking on your couch, the record begging to be flipped and your wine glass empty on your coffee table. The rain is still pouring and the clock now reads 8:43. You decide to call it a night, placing your glass in the sink and closing the turntable until next time. You drag yourself upstairs, changing into a pair of pajamas and pulling your hair into a knot at the top of your head. You crawl into your bed, ready for this day to be over and as you turn off the light, the last thought on your mind is Jake. Just like always.

It's hard to fall asleep, your brain just won't shut off. Your mind is still working overtime, memories playing in double time. It's a vicious cycle, and a cycle that you get stuck in every year on your birthday. Each year, one year older but no less sad. You close your eyes tightly, doing the only thing you can do right now which is force yourself to fall asleep. Or try to, at least.

As you start to drift off thunder clatters in the distance and though it’s soothing, it wakes you, causing you to toss and turn. Just as your eyes begin to close, you hear it again, but it sounds strange. A few seconds later you hear it again, and your brain fully wakes as you sit up in your bed. You listen again for the sound, and as you hear it you realize it's not thunder at all, but the sound of someone knocking on your front door.

A bolt of panic runs through you. Who the hell would be at your door at this time of night? You look at your phone, it's almost ten-thirty. No one you know would be stopping by unannounced, and at this hour? You get up, quietly walking from your room, down the stairs and toward the front door. As you get closer, the rain and the knocking both get louder, causing you to grow even more confused as nerves start to gather in your stomach.

You take a deep breath as you gather your courage, twisting the lock and opening the door. The second the door opens, a gust of cool, wet air blows through the house. The rain, now seemingly heavier than before pours onto your front porch step, the sound almost drowning out the sound of your thumping heart. You peer through the dark, rain drenched night and you swear your heart stops at the sight. Your mind can hardly comprehend what you’re seeing.

In the dark, with rain pouring down around him, you see Jake. In jeans, a t-shirt and a very drenched leather jacket, holding the largest bouquet of multi-colored poppies you’ve ever seen, petals heavy with rain.

“Poppy?” he says. He's breathing hard and he looks incredibly panicked. You again notice the bouquet in his trembling hand and your brain starts to piece the situation together.

“Jake? What’re you–”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I was supposed to be here hours ago, but there was a wreck once I hit 75, and then the traffic–” he says, water dripping from the end of his nose as he talks.

A wave of shock washes over you at the fact he's really here. Right here at your doorstep no less. “Oh my god– Come inside!” you urge, seeing his cold, wet body start to shake.

He nods his head and starts to shake the water off of himself like a dog as he steps into your house. His hair is sopping wet, and the way his shirt clings to his chest…well, you’re trying to push down that thought. He looks like he’s barely holding it together. As soon as you shut the door behind him he holds out the bouquet, wanting you to grab it. “Happy Birthday, Pops, sorry they’re late.”

Your heart shatters. Of course he didn't forget. “Jake...Thank you...But– You're here, in Detroit, what are you–”

“It’s your birthday, Pops,” His voice is shaky and his body is shivering slightly. He's soaking wet and he's going to get sick if he stands here in those wet clothes any longer. So, you reach out and take his hand, tugging him with you as you walk toward your living room. He follows you in and stands awkwardly next to the couch as you turn to face him. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and you notice the look in his eyes is off, like your presence has him hypnotized. You notice his eyes move up and down your body, taking in your pajamas.

You quickly look down at yourself, feeling slightly self conscious and he instantly notices. He shakes his head as if reading your mind. “No, don’t. You look perfect to me.”

You feel bashful, and unsure of what to say, so instead you rush to the bathroom to grab a towel for him to start drying himself off.

“Thank you.” he mumbles and takes the towel from you, trying to dry his face and hair. You watch as he rubs the towel over his head, his shirt comes off his body and you're almost knocked backward. There were a few times throughout the years you'd see him shirtless but, my god, did he look good now. You're trying to take little glances, hoping he's too busy drying off to notice.

“Jake, don’t think that I don’t want you here, but…Normally you just…send the flowers. I can’t believe you drove eight hours to deliver them, in this weather no less…” you question, crossing your arms across your braless chest.

He stops drying his hair and stares at you. You can see the look in his eyes. It’s intense, and it’s not just because he’s freezing. He’s trying to read you, he’s searching for something. He stands there, in his wet jeans, with only a towel thrown over his shoulders. He is looking at you intensely, and your heart starts to pound in your chest.

He bites his lip, and his eyes dart down your body for a split second. He swallows and continues to dry his hair, the air around you suddenly feeling much heavier. He looks you in your eyes. “The flowers didn’t feel like enough this year.”

“Jake, they are always enough. They are more than enough,” you whine.

He drops the towel to his side, the damp strands of hair clinging to his face. You see his chest rising and falling, trying to steady his breathing, but he seems to be failing. He walks towards you and you back up until you are pressed against the wall. He gets in so close you can feel his body heat, and he gently reaches up to take your chin into his hand. His fingers are still cold, and the feeling of them on your skin almost burns. His voice is rough as he looks at you deeply, he’s searching every inch of your face. “No. I couldn’t let you be alone, to sit there all night long with a glass of wine in your hand, just staring at the flowers. Not this year, Pops. This year is different.”

“Different?” you breathe.

“It's your thirtieth birthday, Poppy.” he smirks.

“Yeah?” you answer, still not on the same train of thought he seems to be on.

He takes a deep breath, and you can see the nervous look come over his face again. His eyes flick down to the floor, his cheeks start to get red. He can’t look at you. This entire thing is so incredibly intense, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. He takes a deep breath and then lets his eyes meet yours.

“You know, I have traveled all over the world. I have seen people and places so beautiful your mind can hardly comprehend it. I’ve seen waterfalls and caverns, and cliffs and fields so big and vast you feel small compared to them. What I’m saying is that, I’ve been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things, but none of them, nothing, compares to you.”

You blink at him, awestruck by his words. “Jake…”

He doesn’t give you a second to speak. He’s nervous and he’s scared, and all of this is coming out unfiltered. “I mean it, I’ve been to so many gorgeous places, I’ve met so many people and nothing has captivated me the way you do. I have searched the whole damn world, and everywhere I looked, I was looking for you. Always looking for you, thinking about you.”

You don’t even know what to say. Just two hours ago you were laying in your bed missing him, and now hes here, in front of you spilling his soul.

“I could go to the edge of the ocean and see the beauty of the sunrise, but it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes light up when you laugh. No matter where I go, or how many new things I see, I can tell you that there isn’t another you. You’re rare. You’re my one in a million, wild and free Poppy. I’d give up every single thing I have to wake up next to you in that poppy field again, just to be next to my girl. Just me and you.”

Your lips part to speak but he’s not done.

“It's been twelve years since that night in my basement. Twelve years that I have thought of you day in and day out. I know that at the time you probably didn't mean it. Who really means anything they say when they're eighteen?” he laughs. “The thing is, I did. I did mean it Pops. You're all I’ve ever wanted, so much so that I signed the back of a gas station receipt to prove it.” he says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He reaches inside and pulls out a well worn, tattered and wrinkled receipt, barely hanging on to life. Signed on the back with both of your names. Your heart lurches in your chest as your fingers grab the delicate paper from him.

He rubs his hand over his mouth, trying to find the courage to keep going. “And I still mean it today, Poppy. Twelve years later, and I still feel it, I still feel everything…for you.” His eyes don’t break from yours, and you can feel all the walls he’s put up starting to come crumbling down. You can see that he’s terrified, but he’s fighting to keep those emotions tucked away. “I’m ready to make good on that pact, Y/N. I never forgot. Not for a second.”

You look at the receipt in your hands, seeing the words scribbled down so carelessly, promising yourselves to each other at age thirty. Your names are still there, though the pen is faded. You hadn’t thought about that night since it happened, and seeing this has flooded your mind with the memory. The night you kissed him for the first time. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s the only thing that has kept me going. How do you think I got through all these years?” His eyes are still locked on yours, he is trying so goddamn hard to keep everything inside him. He’s fighting the tears that are attempting to come, “Every time I thought time was up, every time it looked like we wouldn’t make it, that this thing we have was hopeless…I’ve had that piece of paper. It was something to hold on to...” his voice drifts off, his eyes are watering now. “A piece of you when I couldn’t have the real thing.”

You see his eyes fill with tears, and you can’t take it anymore. You reach out to him, your hand touches his stubbly cheek. You wipe his tears away with your thumb. You’re not even sure what to say right now or what to do, just that you need to touch him. He reaches up and grabs your hand, holding it against his face, desperate for your touch.

The walls are coming down, he can no longer hold back. “God…you have no idea, no idea at all the hold you’ve had on me, Poppy. You don’t understand how much I’ve loved you for so long. You know how much I still do. Even if I never said it, even if I didn’t fight for it…I still kept loving you, more and more with every single day. You were always there, in my heart, in my mind. For twelve years, shit, longer than that, you’ve been my everything.”

Love. He loves you. He’s always loved you.

“Jake, I lo–”

He pulls your hand from his cheek, resting your fingers on his mouth as he slides them across his lips, taking in the feeling of you. Then, his eyes meet yours again. “And listen, I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend, or– or if you’re seeing anyone…I never let myself look, but I’m here, I have time, and I want this Poppy. I want you. I want to do this. It’s finally time for us.”

This feels like you’re in a dream. You’re watching some fantasy of yours unfold right in front of you. You would be convinced that this isn’t really happening, if it weren’t for your hand still against his lips. Your heart aches, and you feel like maybe it’s too good to be true. The man you’ve been in love with since you were young, the man who keeps you awake at night, is telling you what you’ve dreamed of.

“Jake, you– you want to be… with me? Like…that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice cracking, “I’ve wanted it forever. I wish I could go back and change things all those years ago….I wish we could have just been together the whole time. But right now…I just need you to hear me when I say that I want you, I’ve always wanted you. I’ve only held on and I’ve only pushed through for you. Everything I’m doing is for you. For us. You’re my girl, Pops. I’m ready to make it official.”

You feel your own eyes starting to well with tears, the words coming from his lips are everything you’ve ever wanted. The part of your life that has felt so incomplete has suddenly vanished from the second you opened your front door. It’s him, it’s always been him, and now he’s here, asking you to be with him in the way you planned all those years ago.

“I won’t promise you that it’ll be easy. This isn’t going to be pretty. We’re not kids anymore. We’re not those two dumb teenagers who made a promise on a piece of paper not knowing what life had in store for them. We’re in the real world now, and it’s messy. It's hard. We both have demanding jobs and work long, tiring hours, but I know we can do this. I want to do this. With you. No one else.” he whispers as he rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he’s trying to absorb the feeling of you.

“But– Married? That seems like a big leap,” you breathe.

His mind drifts for a moment as he tries to put together the words. “Is it a big leap? I don't think it is. If you think about how long I've loved you, the idea of us being together, it's not too soon. I've waited twelve years to be here with you. I've taken every single step just to get to this moment, and now I know, even through all the bullshit, there's no one else for me. I want to be married to you.”

“It just– it seems scary,” you whisper, feeling his hand wrap around your waist.

He steps even closer, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you against him. His damp chest pressed to your thin tank top. You can hear the sound of his breathing, and feel his hands as they roam gently over your body. “It is scary, it’s terrifying. Being without you is scary, and the idea of me losing you completely scares me the most. But, what if we just try? What if we stop running and just try?”

Your eyes meet his as his thumb rubs small circles on your lower back.

He leans forward ever so slightly, closing the distance even more between your bodies, like he’s pulled into your gravity. A faint noise escapes his lips as he breathes against your mouth. “Sometimes you just have to jump and trust that the net will appear.”

It’s as if your breath has been stolen from your lungs, “I–”

He’s so close, all you can see is the gold flecks in his eyes. His lips skim across your cheek, your skin is on fire. You can feel the air from his nose brush against your face, his hand around your waist is holding you so close. His touch is lighting you up inside like fire, you’re completely hypnotized by him.

“I want to do this, Y/N. I have a long time off, and I want to spend it with you, making this work. I love you Poppy. I’ve loved you forever. We can do this. Say yes. Say yes to this, Poppy.”

“You’re sure about this?” you breathe, letting your lips brush his.

“Every nerve in my body is telling me this is right. I know in my soul that this is it. It’s you, it’s only ever been you….” he whispers, his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling your body into him as his mouth ghosts over yours. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me like I want you, P.”

“I want you, Jake. I always have.” you confess, cupping his cheek with your hand. His face falls into your touch as he groans with relief.

“Do you love me?” he asks, his tone vulnerable and pleading.

“Yes. I do. You know I do. I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” you answer, brushing your thumb under his eye.

He breathes against your palm, your name murmured out in a soft whimper. “Say yes, Poppy. Be mine. Marry me.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. You know this isn’t some fairytale that you’re going to wake from. The only man you’ve ever loved, the one man you’ve dreamed of for years is standing in front of you asking you to marry him.

“Yes.” The word falls from your mouth so easily, it's as if you haven’t even thought it through. This could be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done.

Your heart is pounding, the word feeling so final on your tongue.

And as you look at him, you have no idea what the future will hold, but what you do know is that he’ll be in it, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

But… this was Jake. You needed to be fully honest with him.

Your present, real life wasn’t going away. There was a crafted reality that didn’t involve him, in ways you didn’t care to address at this moment.

Though, you couldn’t lie to him. You had to tell him. There was one issue. It wasn’t so drastic that it could get in the way of this for you two, per se. It just seemed wrong to go through with what you felt was about to happen, without informing him of your current situation.

But, logic was escaping you quickly.

As soon as he was leaning in to kiss you, his lips so full and soft, you lost the ability to rationally think. Any thought besides Jake Kiszka himself was far and fleeting from your mind.

Tonight was meant for you two.

Right now, this could be it. All you had to worry about was right now. At this moment, you could venture into a universe where things seamlessly fall into place. Just like you always wanted.

A little secret kept from him in this moment was the least important thing to you as you felt his lips finally brush against yours, his mustache tickling your upper lip.

The harsh beating of your heart calmed as soon as you felt his lips touch yours.

Tonight was tonight.

Tomorrow’s reality could set in just as soon as you felt him like this, the way you've always dreamed of— even if only this once.

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Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist. There could be more where this came from...

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bbyobbyo · 11 months ago

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You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

[read pt.2 here!]

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.

#seventeen x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #woozi fluff #lee jihoon x reader

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 5 months ago

Text

Chapter 16: I Thought I Was In Love Before

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV, Soldier Boy POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy, Protective Ben/Soldier Boy

Word Count: 10.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), IMPLIED SEX, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Innuendo, Heavy Petting? Making Out, Nudity, Illusions to Sex, A little bit of self-deprecating thought. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Listen While You Read🪴: "I've Been Waiting For You" by ABBA

Spotify Playlist 🪴

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is really just a whole lot of fluff and a bit of cheeky spice, that I couldn't help but write. I figured the two of them really needed just a chapter where someone wasn't being tortured, someone almost died, someone was hurt, or them fighting lol. ENJOY!

There were more flowers in your entire apartment than in New York City on Valentine's Day, and you were sure that come morning there would be more flowers in here than what grew on the East Coast in the middle of spring.

Roses exploded from the bush in the corner splashing pinks and coral petals onto the floor, Lily of the valley dipped from outstretched stalks, honeysuckle, lavender, and lilac smiled from the pots on top of your dresser, and the gardenia on your bedside table filled the room with the sweet-smelling aroma. Even the pothos vines that trailed along your walls were brighter and greener, creeping along to secure your curtains while the Jasmine vines that crept up the wall behind your bed shed the white blooms over where Ben and you were laying.

You were sure that you had Jasmine smashed against your skin and threaded in your hair, but you weren't complaining. There was nothing to complain about, not if every time Ben took you to bed was anything like what had happened over the past four hours.

The number of men you'd slept with was in no way extensive, you could count it on one hand, which meant you weren't drawing from a wide range of experiences, not to mention that it had been probably over a year since you'd slept with someone, but Ben easily blew them out of the water.

Usually after you were with someone, you'd compare them to Newton, only because it was the longest relationship that you'd had and really the only guy you'd ever loved. When you'd finally slept with Newton, you'd thought that because you loved each other the sex was supposed to be good… but each time you were disappointed.

You could remember every awkward fumble of Newton's hands on your chest, every slobbery kiss, every time he said that he was "too tired" to return the favor, and every single time you felt unsatisfied while he turned over happy and drifted off while you tried to think of a way to muster up the courage to tell him that you wanted to try something new or at least tell him that you weren't happy.

Not being happy with Newton seemed to be a recurring theme and you didn’t know why you’d stayed with him as long as you did. Perhaps it was because you thought that it was true love, just as Ben stayed with Countess because he thought that was what love was like.

Turns out the two of you had just been waiting to find each other, and you couldn’t have been happier.

Nothing about the way Ben touched you was awkward or hesitant, it was confident, practiced, and just rough enough to give you a glimpse of how strong he really was. The way he kissed you was all consuming, as if he wanted to drink you in, swallow you whole until there was nothing left of you, as if he couldn't help himself but crash into you.

And Ben refused to let you touch him, until after he'd made you fall apart more times than you could count, whimpering, gasping, and screaming his name into the warm air of your bedroom with your hands tangled in his dark hair.

Not to mention you'd never get tired of the moans and breathy groans of your name on his lips. It made you feel powerful seeing Ben that way and hearing him say your name like that. Knowing that you were able to do that to him, to make him feel good the same way that he made you feel like you'd transcended to another plane of human existence. And you didn't think that you'd be able to stop anytime soon.

It was enough to make you regret making him wait for as long as you did. Maybe a part of you thought Ben was all talk, that there was no way that he was as good as he said he was, but you didn't expect Ben to know exactly what you needed as if he could see inside your head. And even though Ben said he wasn't gentle and didn't think that he could "make love" to you, what he just did for four hours came close.

Because he had unmade you, destroyed you, and then the shattered remains that pieced back together after he took you apart cell by cell was filled with so much love and ecstasy that you didn’t know where it all came from.

You'd never felt this way about anyone else in your entire life. Just as Ben thought he'd loved Countess, you thought that you loved Newton, but the way you felt about Ben was nothing compared to how you felt about your ex.

You weren't sure if you'd ever feel this way about anyone else ever. At the back of your mind the realization that you could potentially live as long as Ben did was hovering there and the truth was that you could see yourself spending all that time with Ben. You could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. He was the only one you wanted and you hated how long it took you to admit it to yourself.

But there was a little twinge of something deep down that worried you Ben couldn't commit 100%, and then Ben would do something uncharacteristically soft and it would make you believe whole heartedly that he could.

And even if Ben couldn’t say that he loved you the traditional way, you knew he did. You saw it in the way he held you, saw it in the way he brought you coffee, saw it in the way he walked with you to and from work, and you saw it in the way he cared for you.

There weren't any casualties tonight, except the shower curtain and the rod. The shower had been a good idea in theory to cool off and clean up, until you grabbed the shower curtain and ripped the rod from the wall when Ben twisted his hips in a way that made you see stars.

You suppose that you had instigated it, after you laughed at Ben's inability to fit in your shower, and Ben took it as a challenge, but your plants had been spared.

And you were happy that your headboard had survived, it was antique, and you loved it, but there were a set of divots in the drywall behind the bed that made you hope that Mike wasn’t home and had witnessed what had caused them.

Though you had a sneaking suspicion that Ben had done that on purpose. It wasn't a secret to you how possessive and jealous Ben was, especially not after the way you'd seen him act around Jake. It was a trait that you'd never found attractive until you met him.

But there was something about the Ben’s jealousy and his almost primal need to claim you in every way he knew how that made you want him even more.

You hear Ben mutter your name faintly, breaking through your internal monologue.

You weren't up for moving now, your heart was thunderous against your rib cage, your limbs felt like jelly, and there was a layer of sweat coating your skin. You were laying on your back in your bed where the two of you had ended up, staring up at the ceiling in your bedroom trying to catch your breath, with the sheets and blankets tangled and thrown haphazardly off the sides at your feet.

And despite everything you thought about Ben, you never expected him to want to be close after sex, but he was laying on his side beside you, looking at you with a worried expression. His hand probes along your right wrist to catch your attention.

“Hmm?” You breathe because you can't seem to form words at the moment.

"You doing okay there Petals?" Ben looks smug, but you can hear worry slip into his voice.

It made you smile to yourself, because as rough and prickly as Ben's outer exterior was, you knew how much he cared about you even if he was unwilling to admit it aloud.

You take in a deep breath to find your voice and calm your heart. “Are you asking if you broke me with your dick? Or if you killed me with the almost Olympic level sex?”

Ben chuckles, propping himself up so he could stare down at you, his dark hair is falling forward over his forehead, and he's studying you with his green eyes.

He looks handsome. Ben always did, but here in bed with you, he looked normal, happy, and content. After the shower, his hair no longer had all the product that had been in it for the event at Vought, and after how many times you'd run your fingers through it, it was more tousled and scrunched than usual, but you loved it. He looked more like him again, not like the man that Vought had dressed up for the event. He looked like the man you'd fallen in love with.

You wondered if Ben noticed and liked that you looked more like you now, well, you as if you'd run ten miles. You were sure that your hair was a mess tangled and matted against the pillows, your cheeks flushed, and covered in sweat.

How the fuck can he look so good after doing that for four hours? Its unfair. I probably look like I've spent the past four hours trapped in a tornado while Ben looks like he's ready for a photoshoot for Vanity Fair.

"Because I never wanted to go to the Olympics, but I wouldn't mind going with you every once and a while." You cough out a laugh, still trying to catch your breath.

"Only once in a while?" Ben smirks. "Because you sounded like you'd be okay going every night not to mention it sure looks like you wouldn't mind going." He gestures to the blooms strewn around the room, before pulling one of the small, white fragrant flowers from your hair.

"Shut up."

Ben only laughs at you, flicking the flower away . "We can go whenever you want." He trails his fingertips against your cheek, brushing back some of the hair that was stuck to the flushed skin. “But you're okay? Sometimes I lose control-.”

“Some women like that.”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” He rolls his eyes at you and the hand that pushed your hair away cups your cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben's voice is soft and serious, his brilliant green eyes searching your face and then trailing down your naked body to look for injuries that you don't have.

Sure, you were a little bit sore, but it was a good sore, something that you wouldn't mind feeling all the time. The kind of sore that was satisfying to wake up to.

“Well when we first met-“ You begin to say, remembering when Ben had you by the throat and was preparing to rip you in half when he changed his mind and threw you across the room the day Homelander went on ice.

It was an odd first meeting and given how much Ben and you argued it seemed fitting that the two of you met how all great loves should, mid-fight.

You’d always wondered why Ben didn’t just kill you when he had the chance. It would have been one less headache for him to face that day. You remember looking into his eyes and seeing the anger and rage within, feeling just a feeling a shiver of fear skate down your spine when you realized it might be the last thing you ever do. It was honestly the only time that you'd ever been afraid of him. Pushing Annie out of the way had been worth it, knowing that you saved your best friend's life made your sacrifice worth it, but Ben hadn't killed you.

Ben swallows your next words, his lips moving fervently against your mouth, rough, with just a tickle of his beard against your cheeks. Honestly, your lips were already swollen and a little bruised, not to mention you had beard burn in a few places, but you weren't complaining and like hell you were going to stop doing something that felt so good.

“Don’t fucking bring that up again. I hate that I hurt you.” Ben winces when he admits it, but his hand gently traces the gentle curve of your throat, a frown gracing his perfect lips as if he can imagine the bruised handprint you had for weeks later.

You'd caught him looking at the mark sometimes whenever you were on mission in those weeks together, but despite how the two of you had met, you weren't afraid of Ben. Sure, he had tried to kill you, but you'd done the same thing, so you'd figured the two of you were even. Plus, Ben annoyed you more than he scared you, and you didn't believe for one second that Ben would hurt you on purpose.

Ben might have been rough, but you didn't believe that he would ever find pleasure in hurting you or that he would beat you into submission if you pissed him off.

“It’s our history Ben.” You smile raising your hand to push his hair back, brushing your thumb over his cheek in a gesture that makes his lean subconsciously into your touch. “You can’t change it."

He frowns with a sigh, the green of his eyes lightening in the light from your bedside table lamp.

"Why didn't you kill me that day?" You whisper. "You didn't know me-"

Ben's expression turns to something that almost looks like shame for a moment, before it hardens. "You didn't belong there."

"Where?"

"In all that shit. I could see it in your eyes. I-" His jaw tightens. "I'd never seen someone like you before."

"Like me? Is this when you go back to insulting me again?" You snort.

"No. I-" He bites back his next words. "I've met other supes before, the ones that you said act like gods, the ones like my bastard son but you were-.” Ben huffs out a frustrated breath. “I don't fucking know you were just different, and I didn't want to-" Ben looks conflicted as if he can't find what to say.

Although you usually found Ben’s awkwardness in conversations when they got too personal cute, a part of you broke for him. You wondered if he’d been like that his whole life. If Ben had lived in a world, where he couldn’t open to anyone without an internal monologue from an unseen entity telling him that he was being a “pussy.” You remembered what your grandmother said about Ben’s father, and it only made your heart break more for him.

You made a promise to yourself right then and there that even if it took decades you were going to make Ben comfortable telling you what he was really feeling and thinking. You wanted Ben to know that it didn't make him weak to express emotion that way, that you thought it didn't make him less of a man to talk to you.

Your hand slips from his cheek trailing to curve around the back of his head, bringing his face to yours so you can kiss him, pouring as much emotion as you can into it. "It's okay." You murmur against his lips with a small smile. "I understand."

"You do?" He looks surprised.

"Yes.” You nod, trailing your fingertips in his hair. “No one else has ever said that to me or cared to notice. I think I wanted to be a part of that world because of Annie, to be closer to her, but I don’t belong in it. Even after everything that happened with Elijah and Darren-”

“No, you don’t.” Ben doesn’t say it cruelly or with disdain or in a way to belittle you, instead he says it with a sigh, his hand finding your hip, trailing his thumb over the curve of your pelvis. "I want better for you than this."

"This?"

"You working for Butcher, working fifty jobs, coming back to this shitty apartment-"

You lock your arms around the back of his neck with a laugh. "We talked about this, I like our apartment."

Ben's entire body freezes where he's laying next to you, the thumb that was circling your pelvis coming to a halt. "You said our."

"Yes I did." You smile up at him, seeing the way his green eyes have brightened with the word. "The shitty apartment is half yours now."

"What a dream come true." Ben rolls his eyes. "At least at Vought it would have been quieter-"

"I think that Mike's screeching adds to the ambiance." You joke, loving the way his hair falls between your fingers and how Ben seems to lean into your touch before he can stop himself, that he reacts that way to you touching him just as you react to him touching him. But your smile turns sympathetic. "Poor Mike. I'm going to have to get him some noise canceling headphones-"

Ben's eyes darken to an emerald. "Let him listen, maybe he'll learn something. Plus, I did warn him my girl was kinda loud."

"Is that what I am?"

"Yes." Ben smirks. "Fucking finally."

You roll your eyes. "The way we started might have been rocky, but I like where we ended up."

“I do too, but I wish we had ended up here sooner.” His smile turns more into a smirk. Ben's hand grips your waist possessively, sliding you further across the bed towards him so he's leaning over you. “Told you it would be good. We could’ve been doing this since the day we met sweetheart.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

“That I’ve never had.” Ben hesitates, something flashing through his eyes so quickly that you can't place it. “But you’re okay?” It comes out quiet, and you watch his gaze drop again to your body to check for injuries.

“No.” Ben’s eyes widen at your answer, before you smile and bring his face back down to yours, the words a breath upon your lips. “I’m better than okay, I’m with you.”

The look on his face breaks you, it's so honest, so unlike the usual hardened façade he wore that it made it difficult to breathe. It reminds you of the way your father looked at your mother whenever he'd get home from work, or when the two of them would sway back and forth in the kitchen to an ABBA song, and when he looked at her like she was his entire world and nothing else mattered.

You never thought that you'd want to see Ben look at you like that or that he would ever look at you that way, but now his green eyes are bright and happy, meeting yours and it made you feel so warm that you were sure you would just melt off the bed and into a puddle.

It was what you had imagined when you thought about falling in love with someone else, the past four hours had been exactly that too. It was the romance that you wanted, the one that you tried to use to block off Ben’s countless attempts to try and sleep with you.

And you couldn't have been happier.

"Are you okay?" Your smile turns more into a smirk. "No broken hip or anything? Because at your age I'd think that it's a hazard. Didn't think an old man could do any of that without serious injury."

Ben's gaze turns murderous, something dark shining in his eyes that makes your throat tighten. "You're gonna regret that Petals."

"Oh, am I?" You tangle your fingers in his dark locks, your smirk growing. It brought you joy to make him so angry, to annoy him as much as he annoys you.

"Yes." He growls into your mouth pinning you to the bed, his body caging you in against the tangled sheets and blankets. Ben's eyes are glinting darkly in the light and makes you lose all feeling in your legs. "You are."

A little while later, Ben traces your lips softly with his thumb as you try to catch your breath. You were honestly beginning to fade in an out of sleep, and there was a pleasant ache along your limbs that made you smile with every drag of his fingertips against your skin.

“Petals?”

“Yes Gramps?”

"Don't call me that."

"I think it's cute." You sigh. "I like how out of touch you are with everything. It's adorable."

"I'm not adorable." He huffs.

"Yes, you are Gramps."

Ben rolls his eyes, but then laughs under his breath as if he thinks it's ridiculous to try and stop you.

Good, he's learning.

“Will you say it again?” He whispers.

“Gramps?” You joke.

“No.” Ben sighs heavily and jostles your exhausted body to make you stop, but it only makes you laugh at him.

“Say what?”

“What you said before.”

“Ben, I can’t really remember where I am right now so I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific.”

“When we were at Vought.”

You press your lips together in concentration trying to understand what he means. You'd said quite a few things to him tonight, things that you'd moaned while gripping his shoulders so tight that you would have left bruises on anyone else, and you try to think of what specifically he could be talking about.

What does he mean- Oh.

“I love you.” You say it without hesitation, without looking away from his gaze, and without regret. You didn’t hate yourself for falling in love with him and you didn’t want to deny yourself of him anymore. Not when he was holding you close with a softness that Ben had said he was anything but, not when Ben took the time to care about what you liked, and not when Ben seemed truly happy for the first time since he’d been out of Russia.

Ben leans down to kiss you, but this time it’s not rough, it’s not him in a frenzy taking what he wants, it’s gentle and turns hungry the longer his lips are against yours, his hands roaming places along your body that make you sigh and reach up grip his shoulders as an uncontrollable moan slips from your mouth.

If it was always going to be like this you were sure that you’d become insatiable, but you were never going to admit that to Ben. As if you needed to stroke his monumental ego.

Plus, you had a feeling that Ben already knew that.

“Do you believe me?” You murmur against his lips, shuffling your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, looking up at him with a gentle smile.

“Yes.” Ben whispers. “Because I know you wouldn’t lie about something like that.”

“I wouldn’t ever do that to you Ben. I want you to know that. And I wouldn't manipulate you into being something you're not-"

“I know.” He traces the soft angles of your face with his rough fingertips, sending goosebumps over your skin. “You’re nothing like her.”

He didn’t have to say Countess’s name for you to know who he’s talking about. The last thing you wanted was for Ben to believe that you were telling him you loved him to manipulate him to do something or become something he wasn’t.

“I hope not.”

“It’s what I like about you.” Ben continues. “You’re soft."

"Soft?" You raise an eyebrow trying to figure out if it was an insult.

He nods. "All the other supes I meet act like they have something to prove, but you-" Ben sighs. "You're different. You're kinder, even when you shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be?” You ask mildly confused.

“I-“ Ben hesitates as if what he’s about to say is difficult for him. “What you said that night at the fundraiser is true, I’m not this man. I’m not-“ His expression turns dark for a moment and you realize that Ben was about to say Jake’s name. Ben's jaw tightens and you can see how difficult it is for him to say what comes next. "But fuck Petals you make me want to be that man. I don't think anyone else ever has."

You could feel your eyes beginning to water with the emotion that swelled in your chest. You'd never heard Ben admit something like that, never heard him say that he wanted to be better for you.

“Ben, look at me.” You whisper cupping his cheeks to raise his gaze from your chin. “I don’t want Jake. I want you. I know what kind of man you are. I trust you-“

“But you shouldn't-“ Ben presses and it reminds you of the same thing he said to you before he took you to your bedroom.

“Why do you think that?”

“Because I’ve done terrible things. I’ve killed people, tortured others,-“

"I've killed people too-"

"Not for the same reasons. You killed them because they were going to hurt you."

You gently push his hair back from his face. “Ben?”

“Yeah?” He's frowning, eyebrows furrowed together, and you kiss away the frown on his perfect lips.

“I know you. I know about the things you’ve done. I’ve seen the darkest parts and I love you anyway. All the little pieces of who you are make you… you. You wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t have them."

“But-“

“No buts.” You squish his cheek and Ben gives you an annoyed look that only makes you snort. He was going to need to get used to your antics if he was going to survive living with you. “Everything you’ve done, the choices you made, the things that have happened to you, shaped the man I fell in love with and brought you to me. No one is perfect Ben. Everyone is flawed, it’s what makes us human. But sometimes the flaws are the best part. So please don’t hide who you are from me, because you think you have to. You’re not going to scare me away.”

“How can you say that when I’m so different than you?”

“Because you’re forgetting all the important parts I love about you.”

“Which are?”

“Well now it kinda feels like you’re fishing for compliments Gramps.” You joke and this time the ends of Ben’s mouth quirk up in a half smile. “You protect me, you take care of me, you always listen when I’m talking and you actually remember some of the things I say, you pay attention to what I like, you try to make me laugh with your disgusting sense of humor-“

“You know you like it Petals.” Ben smirks.

“And you annoy me.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Doesn’t seem to be a good thing. Annoying you.”

“It is.” You giggle. “Because no one else annoys me quite like you do.”

“You’re so fucking weird.” Ben says, but it's not hostile, he says it with love, almost as if he can't believe how lucky he is.

“I love you too Ben.” You pull his face down to yours, cupping his cheeks with your hands and feeling the beard scratch and scrape against your palms.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.” He murmurs, trailing his kisses down to your jaw.

“Pretty much everyone you’ve met is from another century so-“

Ben raises his head to glare at you. “You annoy me too.”

“And you see it as a good thing right?” You tap him on the nose.

“Fuck no.”

The bed shakes with your laughter, Ben is still leaning over you, his right hand pushed into the sheets next to your head, his body resting comfortably beside you. You could feel how warm he was, the weight of his body like a warm blanket, and you knew that you could get used to this. You wanted this life with Ben so badly it burned through your body like wildfire. It made your heart ache, just as it used to when you thought about having a romance like your parents, your grandparents, and Annie and Hughie. When you’d think about finding the person who seemed perfect for you in every way.

Funny, given that Ben seemed to be the opposite of you, but that was why the two of you fit so well together.

“You never listen to me, you always argue, you always find something I’ve done to complain about-“ Ben continues.

“Are you going back to insulting me? Because it wasn't exactly fun for me earlier when you yelled at me."

“Give me a fucking minute.”

You wait.

His voice shifts to something a little gruffer almost confused. “You don’t ask me for anything.”

It was probably the last thing you thought he was going to say. If anything, you thought he was going to say that you’re always covered in dirt.

"What?"

“Countess she always-“ Ben frowns. “She was always asking me for shit. Jewelry, clothes, a new car. I always got what she asked because I thought that’s what you do for someone you care about, but you always fight me whenever I try to buy something for you. I don't understand you."

"You've said that before-"

"I know, but it's true. I've never fucking understood you." He smiles when he says it.

"That's okay, you have time to figure it out."

Ben hesitates, his hand tracing your arm. "I guess you do too."

The comment is paired with another rare soft smile, the kind of smile that you wanted to make him have every day for the rest of your life, and you understood why he was smiling like that. Because Ben was allowing himself to be comforted by the idea that he wouldn’t have to worry about losing you, that he wouldn't have to be alone and that you would be with him for as long as he was alive.

Something inside ripped open and you felt your eyes begin to water with the weight of his words, because Ben was saying that he wanted to be with you as long as you wanted to be with him.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I guess I do."

You contemplate for a minute what he said about Countess asking him for things. "Honestly, I do like gifts, but I like gifts that mean something." You sit up, gently pushing him off you, so you can gesture to the bookshelf standing proudly on the other side of your bedroom, the one that Ben bought you at IKEA. "Like the bookshelf."

"I bought you a diamond necklace and you liked the bookshelf more?" Ben sighs incredulous.

"Yeah." You laugh. "I've needed a bookshelf for ages, but I never was able to afford one. Do you have any idea how long I've had piles of books? Years. And-" You shrug your shoulders, gently taking Ben's hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over the hardened ridges and rough patches. You couldn't go long without touching him, you were realizing that about yourself and now that you were finally allowing yourself to touch him you weren’t sure when you would be able to stop. "I've also always thought that spending time with someone else is more special than big extravagant gifts."

"Really?"

You nod.

"Why?"

"Because I think there's something wonderful about just existing with someone, of inhabiting the same space and doing nothing at all. Of sinking into someone and just being there." You could feel your cheeks flushing. "When we watch a movie or when we sit and read together or when you walk with me to the plant shop, I like things like that. Spending time together without expectations or a sense of urgency. Taking the time out of your day to be with someone else. And it doesn't have to be sex either-"

"Are you saying that you didn't like the sex?" Ben raises an eyebrow. "Because you certainly sounded like you-"

"No! I-" Your cheeks flush. "I liked the sex."

"Thought so." Ben smirks.

"You're insufferable." You roll your eyes at him, considering what to say next. "I know that it's a little different than the girls you've met in the past, and I know that it might seem a little strange, but you didn't have to take me to Vought to impress me or win my love or something."

Ben looks confused.

"I mean, if you'd shown up on my grandmother's doorstep with a giant box of greasy Chinese food, a cheap bottle of wine, and a small bouquet of flowers I would have been equally happy."

"Really?"

"Mhmm." You continue to trace your fingers over the palm of Ben's hand, loving the way it feels in yours. "You've got some big hands there mister."

"There isn't anything small about me Sweetheart, you know that. Got to see firsthand" Ben teases sitting up and leaning towards you with a smirk that makes you roll your eyes. He takes your free hand in his left brushing his thumb over the palm. "Yours are kinda small."

"Sorry sasquatch, we can't all have meat hooks."

"I like it." He murmurs.

"That you've got meat hooks for hands?"

"No, I like how small your hands are." He smiles crookedly at you in a way that makes your breath catch.

"Why?"

"Just take the compliment Petals."

"Well, no one has ever complimented my hands before so…"

"I'm sure that I can give a compliment to every part of your sexy body.”

"If you're about to start talking about my ass again, Ben I swear I'm going to lock you in a tree."

“Songs should be written about it. I’m just stating the obvious.”

You shake your head at him and continue to stroke your thumb over his palm while Ben does the same thing. He was being surprisingly gentle, holding your hand as if it was a fragile bird that could fly away at any moment.

“Why do you like my hands?”

Ben is quiet for a moment. “I don't know I kind of like how delicate they are, and I like how you always seem to have some dirt on them-“ Ben smooths his thumb over your palm. “I like how small they look in mine.” He mutters more to himself than to you.

“Ben?” You whisper.

He glances up, an ashamed look on his face. “Yeah?”

“I like how they look in yours too.”

“Really?”

You nod before you look back down at his hands with red cheeks. “I like how big yours are because they feel solid, strong, but also just a little bit gentle.” You could feel yourself blushing all over again. “When we first met, I didn’t think you could be, but you are.”

Ben scoffs.

“Stop.” You look up at him. “You don’t have to pretend right now, it’s just you and me.” You whisper, squeezing his hand encouragingly. "I know that you think that you have to be this tough, no feelings, jerk or playboy or toxic masculinity poster boy, but you don’t. Not around me. I love you and you opening up to me more is not going to make me stop or think less of you. You can tell me how you feel without me judging you."

The look in Ben’s eyes softens for a moment.

“I like the way you are when you’re around me.” You continue in a whisper. “You always seem softer and a bit happier.”

Ben doesn’t answer immediately, instead he continues to let you stroke along his hands. “I-um-I” He clears his throat. “I like who I am around you too.”

Your cheeks warm with his confession.

Ben clears his throat still looking down at your hand watching the gentle movement of your thumb against his skin. "Look, I-" He pauses. "I wasn't just trying to impress you."

"When?"

"At Vought."

"Then why-"

"I don't want you to worry about any of this shit anymore."

"What shit?"

"Paying rent, buying groceries that aren't name brand, walking because you can't afford a car-" Ben sighs. "Fuck, the day we went to IKEA, and you looked at the price of that couch, I hated how you looked and-"

"Ben it's okay. I budget things and it works out. I'm used to it-"

"But I'm not. It's not okay." His hand tightens in yours. "And I don't want you to worry about any of it."

"But-"

"No 'buts' Petals. "

"I don't want you to pay for everything all the time!" You shout.

"Why not?"

"Because it's your money-"

"Not anymore. You're my girl and that means you're not going to worry about any of it as long as I'm here."

"Do you think you're going to stay a long time?" You say it hesitantly, the part of you deep down that worried Ben couldn't be in an exclusive relationship rearing its ugly head all over again.

"As long as you want me here." The determination in Ben's eyes makes your heart stutter a beat, but there was just a little bit of something behind his gaze, something that looked like vulnerability, but it vanishes in the heat of his gaze.

"I'm pretty sure that I'm always going to want you here. It's too quiet without you."

“Then I’ll stay.”

Ben pushes you back against the bed, fitting his body over yours like a warm weighted blanket designed especially for you, kissing you with so much enthusiasm you're not sure that you remember how to breathe. You didn't understand how it could be like this, how you could feel this way about him especially after he annoyed you so much.

But just as he reaches down to grab your thighs to pull them up around his hips, your stomach growls loud enough to wake the dead.

Oh, holy fuck that is so embarrassing.

Ben hesitates and looks at you, your cheeks burning a bright red. "When was the last time you ate?"

"Um-" You clear your throat. "I mean I drank some of my latte earlier but-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"I should have known." Ben sighs and extracts himself from the embrace of your thighs, getting up from the bed, and muttering something under his breath that you can't understand. “You always do this.”

"Wait, where are you going?" You ask him as you sit up.

"I'm going to find my fucking phone and order a pizza." He says, running his hand through his hair almost a little angry.

“It’s okay you don’t have to do that-“

“Yes, I do. I mean, fuck Petals, why don’t you ever remember to eat?” Ben grouses.

“Because I have a lot on my mind! A few things happened today, and I was upset because you weren't in the apartment when I got home and-"

Ben leans across the bed to kiss you, securing his large hand at the back of your head. "I'm sorry that you were upset. I swear that I'm going to make it up to you."

"Ben I’m pretty sure that you’ve spent the last four hours making it up to me-“

"Not long enough." He winks in a way that makes your throat tighten. "But let me find my phone.”

"Okay." You reach for his shirt on the floor prepared to help him find it, but Ben's hand comes down to your wrist to stop you. “Let me help.”

"Don't bother getting dressed Petals. This’ll only take a minute." He says with a wide smirk. "And I'm not done with you yet."

You're not sure how you ended up on the couch naked and eating pizza, but somehow that's exactly what happens. When the pizza guy had been buzzed up, Ben had answered the door only wearing a pair of his boxers, his chest still sweaty and his hair tugged in two different directions, but Ben couldn't have cared less.

Honestly, you'd had to stop him from answering the door naked. The guy had no sense of shame, but you figured that someone who had founded Herogasm and spent at least seventy five percent of his week bed-hopping, had probably lost his sense of shame years ago.

Bean and Rex were now sharing the dog bed in the corner, a surprising turn of events, but you hoped that it meant the two of them had sorted out whatever sibling problems they were having.

Ben's arm was thrown over your shoulders, pulling you further into him while you ate a slice of pizza with your head leaning against his arm.

I could get used to this.

You exhale a happy sigh and cuddle further into him. Ben wasn't a cuddler, but he was allowing you to cuddle against his arm. But he seemed to be enjoying himself, eating his own slice while taking sips of a glass of whiskey that he was sharing with you.

Sharing was a relative turn because the one time he gave you a sip, you'd sputtered it all out and almost coughed up a lung while Ben patted you on the back as hard as he dared, laughing all the while at you.

And predictably when Ben and you were done, he pulled you onto his lap, and the only thing you could think of was how wonderful you felt. Being with Ben made you feel vibrant and alive in the best way. He made you feel beautiful and made you feel as if Ben understood you more than anyone else ever had. That he saw through what everyone else called weird or unusual and loved you anyway. It was all you wanted for so long, a man who saw every part of you that others sneered at and fell head over heels.

Ben deepens the kiss, groaning into your mouth as his hands tighten on your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but you don't care. Everything about him felt right, the scruff of his beard scratching against your flushed cheeks, the smell of his shampoo (really yours) floating through the air with every breath you took of him, the soft pillow of his lips urgent as if he wanted to drink you in breath by breath and never come up for air, the rough trail of his calloused hands over your soft skin, and the hardness of his body molding around yours in the best way as you sat on top of him. You didn't feel self-conscious or uncomfortable, you couldn't, not when each time Ben touched you with a reverence as if wanted to savor you, to run his hands over every inch and discover new places that no one had ever been, and make you feel things that no one ever has or ever will.

You're so absorbed in Ben that you don't hear the jingle of keys in the lock of your front door, but you do hear the startled scream.

"What the fuck!" Annie screams as she enters the living room.

"Holy shit! Annie what the fuck are you doing here!?" You screech, diving off Ben and ripping the crocheted blanket off the back of the couch to cover yourself.

Annie had seen you naked before, what she hadn't seen was Ben naked or Ben and you having sex.

Oh, will the nightmare never end?

"I was just coming to find you! I was worried!" She shouts, her hand covering her eyes, but it was too late. You knew that she'd seen everything. And you mean EVERYTHING.

Well, it can't get any worse.

"Hey Annie did you find her and- OH HOLY FUCK!" Hughie exclaims as he enters the apartment behind Annie and immediately slaps his hand over his eyes so loud you can hear the sharp slap of his hand against his face. "I didn’t see anything!"

"Can someone shut the door before Mike comes in here and 'doesn't see anything either!'" You snap, clutching the crocheted blanket tighter against your chest. It was doing little to cover you, due to the wide spaces in between the granny squares, but it was the only thing big enough to cover all of you.

Because that's exactly what this situation needed, my neighbor coming in and getting everything on his Christmas list when he sees me naked on my couch.

"Why try to hide it baby?" Ben shrugs, leaning back against the couch not bothering to cover himself. "I want everyone to see what they can't have." He winks.

You smack him in the face with one of the couch pillows before shoving it into his lap. "You're not helping Ben." You wave a hand and a vine hanging on the back of your door shuts it with a slam.

"What?" Ben leans towards you with a salacious grin. "My girl is fucking gorgeous, should be the star of every wet dream-"

"Ben, I swear I will tie you up and-"

"But we already did that Petals." He grins. "I wouldn't mind doing it again-"

The wave of heat that travels through your body has nothing to do with embarrassment.

"Please do not finish that sentence." Annie interrupts, her hand still covering her eyes. "I'm already scarred for life."

"Join the club." Hughie mutters.

"You wouldn't have been scarred for life if you had just fucking knocked!" You shout at your friend. "Why are you here?"

"I was worried when you ran to the elevators and Ashley finally let me leave that ridiculous party! I tried to call you and you didn't answer, I went up to Ben's apartment and you weren't there, I called your grandmother and she said that she hadn't heard from you, so I figured you were here!"

"You called Di?" Ben asks.

"I was desperate!" Annie sighs. "I wanted to make sure she was okay-"

"Uh-huh well, you can see that she's fine and we were in the middle of something. Unless the two of you want to get another eyeful of my girl's perfect ass, you should clear out-"

"Ben!" You smack him on the shoulder.

"Absolutely, Annie let's go-" Hughie begins to say stepping backward with his hand over his eyes. He gropes through the air blindly trying to find her, but he comes up empty.

"Wait!" Annie removes her hand from her face, giving Ben a once over and not bothering to hide what she was doing.

"What do you have to wait for?" Hughie asks still reaching out for Annie with his eyes closed.

"Annie for fucks sake-" You groan, but Ben seemed to like all the attention.

She gives you a thumbs up. "I want details tomorrow."

It was more of a high five moment and you both knew it, but you weren't going to give her the satisfaction.

"ANNIE!" You huff face blushing an even brighter red. By now you were sure that you were as red as the strawberries that were hanging on the plant on your kitchen table.

"Bye babe!" Annie says cheerfully, pulling Hughie out the door behind her and slamming it.

"I'm going to kill her." You mutter under your breath, but Ben laughs.

"You're going to talk me up right baby?" Ben purrs wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into him again. His lips fall to your ear, biting your earlobe before he murmurs. "Tell her all about how good I was?"

"Keep talking and I'm going to tell her that I had to fake it for four hours." You threaten.

It was an empty threat, like hell you were ever going to forget what Ben had done to you. And of course, you were going to tell Annie everything tomorrow over coffee or maybe over wine.

Definitely wine. I’m going to need to get a little bit drunk to cope with the thought that Hughie just saw me naked.

"Aww don't be like that Petals. We both know that you didn't fake anything."

“That you know.”

Ben’s gaze turns dark. “Oh really?” His grip on your waist tightens and he starts to pull the crocheted blanket away from your chest.

“Wait.” You say before you get distracted.

“What?” Ben pulls back. "What's wrong?"

"Annie called my grandmother, which means that she may have tried to call me." You look around the room for where your phone could be. It's between the couch cushions behind you and when you look at the screen you see that your grandmother had tried to call you twice, just as you suspected.

"So?"

"She called me. She must be so worried." You push the call button.

Your grandmother answers on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Hey Gran, I'm sorry I didn't pick up. I was-"

"You don't have to explain. I know that you must have been preoccupied." The way she says preoccupied makes your entire body flush bright red.

Oh, sweet baby peony, please tell me that my grandmother didn't watch Ben and me having sex.

"Please tell me that you didn't-" You begin to croak.

"I didn't mean to." She breezes, and she doesn't sound ashamed. "But then Annie called, and I was worried about where you were so I looked ahead a bit and-“

"Oh, for the love of lemon cream pie." You groan, curling up into a ball because that seems the right thing to do after you've found out that your grandmother had a front row seat to see what Ben and you over the past four hours.

The couch shakes beneath you, and you realize that Ben is laughing. You raise your head to glare at him.

"Looks like the cats out of the bag Petals." He croons.

"I will kill you." You narrow your eyes at him.

"Sweet Pea, I was alive when Ben went to yearly herogasms, there really isn't anything I haven't seen." You hear your grandmother say.

"That doesn't matter." You groan, pulling the crochet blanket over your head in shame. "This is mortifying."

"Petals it's okay." Ben rubs your back, but it's not helping. "I did some of my best work, and you really did some-“

"Please do not finish that sentence."

"Honey, I didn't see too much." Your grandmother soothes. "But I am happy you called, because I want to speak to Ben for a moment."

You hold up the phone from underneath the crocheted blanket, remaining inside your cocoon of shame.

I'm never going to be able to look her in the eyes every again. Holy fuck why me? Why me!? I’d rather Mike walk in here while Ben and I were fooling around on the couch.

"Di, what's wrong?" You hear Ben say into the phone, but you don’t come out of your cave.

"What's wrong?" Your grandmother asks calmly. "Oh, let me think for a second… You're a complete MOTHER FUCKING IDIOT!" Your grandmother shouts it so loudly that you could hear it vibrating through the room.

You peel back the crocheted blanket on your head to look up at Ben who seems just as surprised at your grandmother's insult.

"Wait a minute, what did I-"

"No! No talking!" She shouts. "I couldn't have been any clearer, could I? Maybe if I'd hit you over the head with a frying pan it would have cleaned out your ears! Or given your brain a good shake."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?! I told you what you needed to do. I told you that you needed to come here and what did you fucking do? You broke my granddaughter's heart and went right back to Stan Fucking Edgar!"

Ben's eyes shift to yours and you swear you can see a flicker of regret spark behind his gaze. It makes you reach out and take his free hand, squeezing it to ground him here with you. You knew that Ben felt bad about leaving you like that, you heard it in his voice when he talked to you back at Vought, had seen the regret in his eyes when he told you that he ‘should have been there.’

"That's not-" Ben says half-heartedly, his gaze still on you.

"No! It's exactly what happened."

"Stop anticipating what I'm going to fucking say!" Ben snaps.

"And you stop interrupting me!" Your grandmother shouts back.

"But-"

"Benjamin, you better not fuck this up, because if you do, I will fuck you up." The threat hangs heavy in the air. "Now put my granddaughter back on the phone."

Ben huffs something under his breath and hands you back the phone, fuming. You give his hand another apologetic squeeze.

It was embarrassing enough that your grandmother had seen Ben and you having sex, but now you were mortified that she had yelled at him. You understood that they were friends, but Ben was still your boyfriend.

"Gran you shouldn't talk to him like that." You say into the phone, leaning into Ben's bare shoulder to show him that you weren’t angry with him. "He's apologized and it's okay-"

"It most certainly is not okay." Your grandmother says. "And somebody's got to talk to him like that, so it might as well be me."

"But Gran-"

"No buts sweet pea." She interrupts. "Now I know the two of you are busy today, but I would like you to come out here next week."

"Next week?"

"Yes. It's the annual town fall festival and I've got about a million things to bake, and I could really use the help." Your grandmother states. "Plus, Annie's mother is driving me up the wall about it and it would be nice to have someone here to make sure that I don't kill her."

"Oh okay." You frown and the thought of leaving Ben. The two of you had just finally worked it all out and now you were going to have to go back to Illinois. But you couldn't leave your grandmother high and dry. She needed you there and you loved your grandmother. "Well, I guess Ben can take care of Bean and Rex-

"I want to go." Ben interrupts you.

"Really?" You look at him surprised. "It's not something that you'd-"

"I want to go." He says firmly and this time it's Ben that squeezes your hand.

It made you smile, because you could see that Ben wanted to spend time with you even at something that he'd probably hate every second of.

Fuck, I love him so much.

"Okay. We'll be there." You reply to your grandmother, but you don't look away from Ben.

He's got that soft smile on his face, the one that you want to make him have every second for the rest of your life. You were sure that the same smile was mirrored on your own.

"Perfect. Now get back to doing whatever it was that you were doing, and don't forget to call me when you figure out what day you're going to start driving over."

"Drive? Wouldn't we fly?"

"Nope. For some reason you convince Ben that a road trip will be fun." She says knowingly and you realize that she's seen the future again. “Something about experiencing America in the 21st century.” You can imagine her waving her hand around as if she can’t quite understand.

"That's going to take some getting used to." You groan and wonder how much she had seen of your life. "Gran?"

"Yes, sweet pea?"

"Thank you. For everything."

"You're welcome." You could hear the smile in your grandmother's voice.

She didn’t need you to explain what you meant, she knew that you were talking about last week when she comforted you and tried her darndest to tell you that Ben and you were meant to be together. She had always been so patient with you, and you knew that she loved you just as you loved her. Going home was never a chore or something you dreaded. It was something that filled you with warmth, something that made you feel like you belonged, and the home was filled with the love your grandmother infused through the air with her thoughtful actions and kind words.

"I love you." You smile.

"I love you too sweetie. I'll see you next week."

You sit there in the silence for a moment, lowering the phone from your ear, before you look up at Ben.

"You okay Petals?" Ben drags the crocheted blanket away from your body, before he pulls you onto his lap.

"Yeah. I am." You smile, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to secure him against you. "Can you promise me something?"

"Anything." His hands settle comfortably on your hips, but Ben doesn’t look away from your face.

"That you won’t leave like that again." This time you reach down and pull his right hand up to your chest, directly over your heart so he can feel the gentle beat through his skin.

'Like-"

"Go all radio silent and take all your stuff and just vanish into thin air." You clarify. "I didn't like that. It scared me and I-"

Ben's other hand cups your cheek, pulling your face to his before you can finish your sentence. You can feel how sorry he is, how much he wants to make it up to you. You know deep down that Ben didn’t mean to do that to you, that he only did it because he was trying to push you away, but that didn't make it any less okay.

"I promise." He says into your mouth before nipping at your sore bottom lip and easing the pain with a sweep of his tongue against the soft flesh. "I won't leave like that again."

"Good." But instead of kissing him again, this time you press your forehead into his shoulder with a soft sigh, cuddling into him.

"Tired?" Ben's hand begins to circle at the base of your spine.

"Mhmm. You wore me out old man."

"I thought you were faking it."

"I wasn't faking all of it." You press a kiss into the shadow of his jaw, holding on to him. You wondered if Ben was okay with how clingy you were but given his hand placement you didn't think that it bothered him.

"Thought so." Ben chuckles. "Petals?"

"Hmm?" You hum into his skin, tightening your arms around his neck. He was wonderful and warm in the best way, like the perfect heating pad. Not to mention the way his muscles tensed around your body made goosebumps flicker over your arms. You could feel a wave of happiness and contentment crashing over your head, the longer you cuddled into him.

"Will you promise me something?" He mutters into the top of your head.

"Of course."

He’s quiet for a few moments. "That you won't leave either." Ben whispers it so quietly that you're not sure that you heard him correctly.

You pull back just a few inches to look him in the eye. He looks a little ashamed, and you can practically see the internal self-deprecating monologue inside his head, his face scrunching up in disgust. He opens his mouth, probably to take it back-

Your lips meet his, gentle, unyielding, pouring every emotion you have into it, your hands finding the strands of hair at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. You wanted Ben to understand that you would never judge him for that, that he could be vulnerable around you without consequence. And you wanted him to believe how much you loved him and how much he meant to you.

Ben moans into your mouth, pulling you tighter against his chest, your body molding against his in the best way, in the way that Ben only could. His hands were everywhere, trailing warmth in their wake, making the tiredness that you had felt minutes ago fade as you began to burn beneath his calloused palms.

He tasted good, he smelled good, and he felt so damn good that it made you feel like you were catching fire one cell at a time, burning until there was nothing left but stardust.

"I promise Ben." You whisper against his mouth before he swallows the words whole. "I promise that I'll never leave as long as you want me here."

He hesitates, hands stilling on your hips. An odd look crosses his face.

"Ben? What's wrong?" You cup his cheeks, worried about him.

"I-" He swallows, but looks frustrated with himself.

"It's okay." You whisper, brushing your lips against his, understanding exactly what it is that he's trying to say. "You don’t have to say it. I know. I love you too.”

And you did know. You knew that it was difficult for him to admit something like that, but you didn’t care. You knew that Ben loved you as much as you loved him, and that was enough for you.

You settle back down against his chest, holding him close to you.

“Come on Petals, let’s go to bed.” He murmurs into the top of your head.

“Can we just sit here for a few minutes?” You whisper into his throat, nuzzling into his warmth.

Ben’s hand gently trails along your back, holding you steadily on top of him. “Yeah. We can do that.”

And you wondered if Ben liked this as much as you did, if there was a piece of Ben that longed for the quiet moments you loved so much, and the quiet moments when it was just the two of you and no one else.

You feel him press a kiss to your hairline, and it’s enough to send you off into the sweet relief of sleep, swallowed and enveloped in Ben’s warm embrace.

A/N: Just a lovely bit of fluff and a little spice 😉. I really needed to just write a soft Ben and a reader enjoying their time together. 😊 There will be one more chapter that is a little bit of a time jump, but I think it will wrap up the series wonderfully! But don't worry, it won't be the last time I write for this reader and Ben. I have a mini-series planned and a few one-shots planned!

As always thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series let me know!

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#jensen ackles #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy/ben #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfic #the boys #the boys fanfiction #the boys fanfic #the boys series #takeachanceonme #take a chance on me

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starlightkun · 6 months ago

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⇢ word count: 37.8k total (22.7k & 15.1k) ⇢ genre & warnings: sci-fi/science fantasy au, soulmate au, alien!jungwoo, human!reader, slow burn, fluff and angst; blood/injury mentions (but like, alien blood, if that makes a difference?), a couple needle/injection mentions, if u get secondhand embarrassment this one might hurt in places, a couple crude jokes about alien stuff iykwim (reader’s friends r kind of the worst), this fic is just a rlly sweet soulmate au i swear idk why these tags look horrendous 😭 ⇢ extra info: released in two parts bc of tumblr’s 1000-block limit that was put in place to hurt me personally :)) BUT both parts are out RIGHT NOW ⇢ author’s note: rahhh this one has ALSO been a wip for like over a year and is finally finished!!! this is technically my first sci-fi piece bc i started it before frankenstein complex, but i finished fc wayyy before this one. anyway i loveee my alien!woo and i hope y’all do too ⇢ part two

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of Jungwoo’s words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“Here, Y/N,” Johnny grinned at you as he pushed another seltzer into your hand. “You’re a bit too sober, kid.”

“Thanks, dude,” you beamed back, popping open the tab one-handed and taking your first swig.

All of your friends were gathered around a firepit on the beach, relaxing and celebrating another friend’s birthday—Taeyong. Said birthday boy, a notorious lightweight, was already pink-cheeked and giggly as he chatted with some of the others. Someone had apparently given Doyoung access to the Spotify playlist for the night, as a ballad suddenly came over the Bluetooth speakers that had previously been playing upbeat tunes. A chorus of groans and jeers rose up around the fire from the other eight of you, while Doyoung loudly and passionately tried to defend himself.

“Give me the phone,” Johnny waved for Doyoung to hand over Jaehyun’s phone—the one connected to the speaker.

Doyoung clutched it protectively to his chest. “No! You guys haven’t let me play any of my songs tonight!”

“Because they either make us cry or put us to sleep,” Yuta scoffed, lunging for the device, but the other man jerked it out of his reach.

“If you two break my fucking phone, you’re buying me a new one and splitting the cost,” Jaehyun warned from where he was sat on the sand next to your feet, lazily leaning his head against your knee.

“Seriously, Doyoung, give him the phone,” Mark insisted.

Doyoung reluctantly handed the phone to Yuta, who passed it along to you, who firmly planted it in Johnny’s waiting palm. “None of you have any taste—”

“I thought it was nice, D—” Taeyong was cut off by a hiccup as he went to pat your friend’s head reassuringly. “It was a nice song, Doyoung…”

“Thanks, Yonggie,” Doyoung rolled his eyes, but didn’t shove him off as Taeyong drunkenly wrapped his limbs around him in what you were sure was supposed to be a comforting hug.

As Johnny went to put on more party-appropriate music and you took another sip of your seltzer, you looked up to the sky over the water. There weren’t as many stars as you would’ve liked, and it was a new moon, so there was no silvery light to come from there either. But it was still a nice night, the air was cool, the fire warm, you were the only ones on this stretch of beach this late at night and had enough alcohol to feed a medium-sized frat.

Then, one star started glowing even brighter than the others, and you realized it was moving across the sky. “Look, guys! A shooting star.”

“Ooh, everybody make a wish!” Donghyuck chirped.

Feeling a bit silly, you closed your eyes and made your wish in your mind, then opened them again to see the shooting star getting bigger, as if it was heading towards you all.

“Hey, are shooting stars supposed to do that?” You asked no one in particular.

“I… don’t think so,” Yuta squinted at it suspiciously.

“Should we like… move?” Mark suggested hesitantly.

“They’re just meteors being burned up in the atmosphere,” Jaehyun shrugged. “Most don’t ever reach Earth.”

Except it was very much getting closer and closer, hurtling even faster through the air than before.

“But some do!” Jaehyun added, rushing to his feet. “I think we should go.”

As everybody started scrambling to pack their things, the meteor was making its final approach, and you could hear the sound of it splitting the air as it took a sudden nosedive towards shore. It finally struck with a cacophony of snapping palm trees and thunderous boom of its impact with the ground. It had thankfully missed all of you, but you could see smoke start rising out of the thick foliage where it did land. You all looked around at each other, mirrored faces of shock.

“We survived,” Donghyuck breathed out, patting his front as if he didn’t believe it. His blanket was sloppily thrown over one of his shoulders as he had one hand on the cooler.

“Dude, you thought we were all going to die, and your first instinct was to save the drinks?” Mark pointed out in disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Mr. ‘Where’s my phone?’” Your other friend retorted back. “Going to lecture me on the sanctity of human life when you were about to lose it all for your iPhone?”

As they kept squabbling, you tentatively stepped over the back of your log, towards the trees.

“Y/N?” Johnny said your name questioningly.

“Don’t you guys want to go see it?” You knocked back the rest of your seltzer. “A real-life meteor. Come on, we can all get a piece. It’ll be like, the coolest birthday party souvenir ever.”

Doyoung and Taeyong exchanged uneasy glances. Doyoung spoke up, “I don’t know, that thing was huge…”

“What? You think it was a spaceship or something?” You snickered at the idea, pulling out your phone to turn the flashlight on. “Come on, anybody who’s not a wimp. We’ll bring back enough pieces for the wimps.”

Yuta, Johnny, Jaehyun, and Donghyuck turned out to be the only ones who agreed to come with you. You led the way into the trees, following the slowly thinning smoke trail and path of destroyed palms. The impact site wasn’t very far, and when you first caught a glimpse of the hulking size of its silhouette, you were so glad it had missed. A hundred meters or so over, and all of you would have been crushed by a giant space rock, which is certainly one thing to put on your headstone. Except, as all of your individual flashlight beams shone over it, and you got to see it piece by piece, you realized it was not a meteor. It was all smooth metal, matte chrome in varying colors. A vessel of some kind. From space. A spaceship.

“Holy shit…” You breathed out.

“Oh, we should get the fuck out of here,” Jaehyun said lowly.

“Yeah, no way should first contact be made with our stupid, drunk asses,” Yuta agreed, starting to back up.

“Y/N,” Johnny grabbed your arm to try to pull you back as well, but you stood rooted to the ground. “Y/N, seriously, this is not the rabbit hole to jump down.”

“Maybe she’s figured we’ve gotten plenty of practice with aliens with Mark,” Donghyuck snickered.

You kept staring at the ship, listening to the metal creak and groan. Except those groans weren’t all metallic.

“I think someone’s in there!” You exclaimed, taking off towards it.

Johnny swore as your arm slipped from his grip, and you heard two pairs of footfalls chasing after you. You’d just managed to get a hand and a foot on the ship before a strong pair of arms grabbed you by the waist and pulled you off of it.

“Yuta, grab her hands before she claws me!” Johnny yelled from behind you.

As Yuta went to do that, you haphazardly threw out your feet that were now fully off the ground as Johnny lifted you up. You impacted with something on Yuta, who let out a long line of expletives, his hands dropping to grab something low on his own body. You blindly reached back for Johnny, grabbing a fistful of his hair with one hand and yanking hard, while the other reached under his arm to pinch a pressure point.

“Fuck!” He dropped you. “Yuta! You were supposed to—”

“She kicked me in the balls, man!” Yuta groaned back.

Knowing that you didn’t have long, you raced up the side of the ship. Banging on every panel that you passed by, you yelled out, “Hello? Somebody in there? Are you okay? Hello?”

You finally got to the top-ish of the ship, and one of the panels there felt different than the others. Almost like glass. Pounding your fist against the side of that, hoping it was the cockpit or something, you shouted into it, “Are you okay in there?”

There was another groan that echoed from inside, and it definitely sounded like a person this time. Searching for some kind of emergency release from the outside, you felt around the edge of the whole glass panel. There was no release, but you found a part of the panel that it connected to on the outer hull that had a sizeable dent, big enough for you to get your hand under. Biting your phone in between your teeth to point the flashlight at the dent, you saw that it had exposed an inner latch of some kind.

The sounds of another body climbing up the ship came to your ears, and you whipped around to look at Johnny, already holding your hands up in a defensive fighting position. You took your phone from your mouth just to threaten, “I will bite.”

“I know. Let’s just get this over with before this thing explodes or something, okay?” He held his own hands up in surrender. When you’d relaxed from your fighting stance, he came over to squat down next to you. “So, what are you thinking, kid? We need to bust that?”

“I think?”

“Alright, give me a second.” He hopped back down.

There was another low sound of pain from inside, and you bent closer to the gap as you addressed them, “Just hang in there! My friends and I are going to get you out, okay? Really soon!”

Johnny clambered back up, a large rock now in his hand. You moved out of the way for him to swing the more angled edge of the rock against the latching mechanism. After several swings, you heard a crack of metal, then he was tossing the stone aside. “Jae!” Johnny called out, your other friend joining you two a few seconds later. They each grabbed a side of the glass panel, pushing and pulling it away from the hull.

“Guys?” Donghyuck’s voice suddenly floated up to you, but from the rear of the ship. “I think you should hurry up!”

“No fucking shit!” Jaehyun yelled back, straining as him and Johnny continued battling with the ship.

“I mean, I’m not a spaceship engineer or anything, but I don’t think any of this should be on fire!”

“God dammit!” Johnny groaned. “Yuta!”

“Yep! Recovered! Coming up!” Yuta joined the fray as well, and finally, you heard the last bit of metal holding the panel down snap and give way.

They all fell down as the glass dome now rose on its own, along with a hiss of air pressure. There were dozens of lights and screens inside, all flashing red, lighting up the figure of a man on one of the two seats there. His head was lolled back, arms hanging by his sides.

“Christ, there is someone in there,” Johnny exhaled in shock.

“A fuckin’ alien,” Yuta mimicked the sign of the cross over himself.

“Wrong way, dumbass,” you scoffed, moving along the rim to get closer to the man inside. “You’re not supposed to start on your shoulders.”

“Oh, excuse me, didn’t realize I was in the presence of the Pope herself.”

You shot him another glare as you kneeled down to hook your elbows under the stranger’s arms. “Anybody going to help me?”

“The fire’s getting bigger!” Donghyuck yelled, fear pitching up his voice.

The other guys grabbed the man’s arms as well, helping you yank him up and out. He was all long, lanky limbs and dead weight, which your friends complained about to varying degrees of intensity. With a final tug, you pulled him out to the hull with you, his body flopping back onto you.

“Seriously! I can’t read alien, but I think it’s spreading to the fuel tank or something!” Your friend on the ground shouted in a panic, running around to the side where you were. “Get off there!”

Just then, the spaceman’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with concern, his lips parting for a moment.

“Sorry, introductions later, your ship’s about to explode!” You said, jerking him over the side with you.

Donghyuck half-caught the two of you as you slid down the smooth exterior. Really, he just broke your landing a bit, the two of you still crashing into him at far too high of a speed to be painless, all your limbs smacking each other. The man from the ship made another groan of pain, as you and Donghyuck swore up a storm at your bitten tongues, clocked elbows, and cracked heads. The other three jumped down after you, Johnny and Jaehyun taking the stranger from your arms like they were carrying their drunk friend home from the bar. His feet dragged on the ground between them as the six of you hurried away from the ship. As you came crashing through the foliage again back to your campsite, your other friends all got to their feet to greet you.

“Took long enough!” Mark complained. “Alright, where’s our—Holy shit!”

“You found some guy?” Doyoung asked, pointing to the stranger. “Why does nothing ever go normal and fine when we let Yuta, Y/N, and Donghyuck go off together?”

Before any of you could explain, there was a loud boom from behind you, and you whipped around to see bright, glowing, molten sludge being shot into the air where you just had been. Fire lit up the trees, the night no longer feeling so cold suddenly.

“What was that?!” Taeyong rushed to your side, clinging onto you tightly.

“Spaceship,” Yuta pointed at the fireball. He then pointed at the stranger, “Alien.”

“Seriously?!” Mark’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “Like, a real UFO? What did it look like?”

“I was too busy fearing for our lives to take pictures, sorry, Mark.” Donghyuck leaned his hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

Doyoung spoke up then, concerned look focused on the man from the ship. “Uh, I think your alien’s dead.”

The spaceman was entirely slack in Johnny and Jaehyun’s grip, head hanging forward as dark droplets fell from his mouth onto the sand. You rushed over, instinctually putting two fingers to the side of his neck, where you guessed a jugular would be if he had one. Please, please, please let him have a heart, and let it be beating. He felt warm, at least, and while you couldn’t find a pulse, you didn’t know if that really meant anything. Instead, you held your fingers under his nose, relieved when you could feel a slight, repetitive exhale of breath.

“He’s breathing!” You announced with relief. A drop of his blood fell onto your hand then, and as you jerked the limb back, not entirely sure what alien blood would do to you. The fleck caught the light of the bonfire and shone blue. A dark navy blue, so dark it almost appeared black at first.

“Definitely an alien…” Yuta crossed himself again.

“Stop that!” You hissed, grabbing a half-drank bottle of water to pour the contents over your hand, washing off the alien blood. “You’d burn up if you stepped foot in a church.”

“Should we take him to a hospital?” Doyoung asked.

“No!” You cried out immediately. “They’d dissect him or something.”

“Y/N, you’re not suggesting we keep him!” Johnny regarded with you wide, incredulous eyes.

“Like a pet alien?” Donghyuck added very helpfully.

“You’re a doctor!” You argued with Johnny.

“A vet! An animal doctor! I’m not even licensed to practice medicine on humans, I wouldn’t know where to start on an alien!”

“Exactly, you don’t need a license to practice on him, he’s not human!”

“Johnny, we all know you’re going to say yes,” Jaehyun grunted, readjusting his hold on the passed-out spaceman. “Come on man, he’s getting heavy.”

“Fine! Fine! I have my kit in my car,” Johnny relented with a big sigh.

“We can take him to my place,” you immediately offered.

The distant sounds of sirens caught your attention, and you all immediately rushed to shut down the campsite. Someone doused the firepit while the speaker was shut off, and the drinks, towels, and blankets were hastily packed up. You all made a run for the cars parked up on the side of the road, as the sirens got even louder. You climbed into Johnny’s backseat before he and Jaehyun pushed the stranger back there with you, then got into the front. The others loaded up into Doyoung’s van, and the two vehicles took off with roars of engines and squeals of tires. You pulled the man’s head up into your lap, wincing as you appraised the damage. His blue blood dripped from his mouth and a significant rip in his jacket on his side. He groaned in pain but didn’t stir otherwise. Aside from the blue blood, he looked human… hopefully Johnny would be able to do something.

At your building, Johnny and Jaehyun helped you drag the spaceman up to your apartment on the third floor, and you had them deposit him on your bed. Johnny brought his travel vet kit up from the car, and together, you managed to get the shiny silver jacket off of him. Underneath, he had a fairly plain white top, which was also torn and blood-soaked. Johnny snapped on a pair of gloves before he pushed the hem up to appraise the stranger’s side, where there was a huge gash in his flesh.

“Oh, Christ, okay,” Johnny sighed, inspecting the wound. “I guess I’ll disinfect and suture it up?”

“Just do it,” you mumbled, pressing a towel to the man’s sweat-sheened forehead.

“Jaehyun, mind assisting?”

“You do know the ‘Dr.’ I put in front of my name is just decorative, right? It’s in Poetry—”

“And now you can brag to all your colleagues that you’ve done real medicine like a real doctor,” Johnny snapped back. “Disinfectant, get it.”

With Jaehyun assisting him, Johnny made quick work of patching him up. Pressing the bandages down over the site so the adhesive would stick, Johnny then disposed of his navy-splattered gloves. He grabbed a stethoscope, putting the end up against the spaceman’s chest.

“I think he’s alive?” Johnny announced. “I don’t know. If he is, he doesn’t have a heart because I’m not getting anything.”

He shifted the placement, presumably to listen to his breathing, and an even more bewildered look overtook his features. Sliding the stethoscope over to the right side of the man’s chest, he sat there for a moment, just listening.

“It’s on the other side,” he breathed out. “His heart’s on the right side.”

“But he has a heartbeat?” You clarified.

“Yeah, he does. Faint, but it’s there. He’s breathing, too. A bit shallow, but otherwise normal. I think.”

You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”

“I don’t think there’s anything else I can do until he wakes up. If he wakes up.”

“Right, thank you Johnny,” you smiled wearily your friend. “I’ll call you when he wakes.”

Jaehyun and Johnny looked at each other skeptically. Jaehyun spoke up, “You’re going to stay here alone with some rando we literally pulled out of a burning hunk of metal?”

“My couch only fits one person. So unless you two are offering to sleep on the floor to protect me or whatever?”

“Call us if anything happens,” Johnny sighed, packing up all of his supplies.

“Of course,” you nodded. “Thanks, guys.”

You heard the sound of your front door clicking shut as you stayed sitting on the edge of your mattress, wiping the spaceman’s face. He really did look human, two eyes that were now shut, lashes resting on his cheeks, a nose practically just like yours, with an elegant slope to the bridge, and a pair of plush, pouty lips. He let out a soft sigh, his head rolling over towards you. But then he went silent and still again. You finished cleaning up his face as best you could, then pulled the covers up over him. Readjusting his bangs that had been stuck together by the damp washcloth you’d used, you gave a final determined nod to nobody in particular before standing up. Grabbing a change of pajamas from your dresser, you got everything you’d need from in here for the night, then went to leave.

“Alright…” You stopped at the threshold of your bedroom, looking over the spaceman’s sleeping figure one last time. “Goodnight, I suppose.”

And with that, you turned the lights out, and quietly closed the door behind you. You were sure to leave it slightly ajar, though, just in case. After taking a much-needed shower and getting ready for bed in your bathroom, you headed out to the living room. You set up a few pillows and blankets into a comfy-enough makeshift bed, then tucked yourself in. Despite the exhaustion in your muscles, the excitement of the night hadn’t worn off yet, and you laid awake for another hour just staring at your bedroom door.

Waking up in the morning to sunlight streaming in through your living room windows, you covered your eyes with a groan and rolled over to bury your face in the back cushions. The sound of your phone buzzing incessantly from the coffee table came, however, and with a guttural groan, you flopped back over to pick it up.

“Yeah?” You mumbled, not even checking the caller ID.

“Y/N?” It was Yuta on the other end.

“Who the fuck else would it be? You called me at whenever-the-fuck-in-the-morning.”

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

“Couch,” you corrected him, swinging your feet over as you sat up properly. “I slept on the couch.”

“Gave E.T. your bed? Such a kind hostess.”

The mention of your guest woke you up more. You got to your feet, shuffling towards the bedroom with a yawn. “Yeah, you know me, I’m a fuckin’ peach.”

“So how’s the…” Yuta dropped his voice to whisper into the phone, “Alien?”

The door hadn’t moved since last night, and you cautiously pushed it open to peer inside. You could see the stranger exactly where you had left him, laying on his back under your blankets, chest shallowly rising up and down. Pushing further into the room, you hesitated on whether to try to find a pulse again. You settled for trying once around his wrist, and if it didn’t work, then you’d just have to assume he was fine. Surprisingly, you found his pulse in one go, and it felt steady.

“Fine, I think,” you answered Yuta quietly, walking back over towards your door. “He’s breathing, he has a heartbeat. He’s just not… ambulatory.”

“Still passed out cold?”

“Yeah.”

“Imagine if he was in one of those comas that you don’t wake up from, and we just had to deal with this comatose alien.”

“Stop, you’re going to manifest that or something!” You hissed.

“Not manifesting, just joking.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“Anyway, some of us went back to the beach this morning, because Mark really wanted to see the UFO—”

“Don’t touch anything!”

“We couldn’t. The whole place is locked down. Couldn’t even park on the shoulder, it was swarming with cops. They were still putting out the fire.”

“Do you think any of the ship survived?”

“I have no clue. Doyoung said he’d ask his dad about it.” Doyoung’s dad was the fire chief, making your participation in the conflagration last night even more dicey.

“Tell him to call me as soon as he finds out anything.”

“I think he was already planning on that, but I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good. Also, I’m sorry for kicking you in…” You trailed off as you turned around to see two big brown eyes staring at you from your bed. “I’ve got to go, Yuta. I’ll call you back.”

“What’s hap—” You hung up.

The spaceman was looking around the room warily, regarding you with clear suspicion.

“Hey…” You offered him a smile as you kept your tone of voice soothing and calm. “You’re alright. I’m not going to do anything to you. My name’s Y/N.”

He kept staring blankly at you, and you were starting to fear that he wouldn’t be able to understand you at all.

“You got injured, last night. On your side.”

He pulled up the hem of his shirt, looking at it himself. He tentatively touched the bandages, but didn’t rip them off. There was a small dot of dark blue that had soaked through.

“I’m going to call my friend, to look at it, okay?”

He nodded.

Quickly dialing Johnny’s number, you chewed on your thumbnail anxiously at how long it was taking him to pick up. Finally, the ringing stopped, and a confused groan came from the other end.

“Hey, Johnny,” you greeted him, relieved. Johnny made another inquisitive sound. “Yeah, he’s awake.”

You could heard Johnny make a few more noises of exertion, presumably sitting up in bed. After a yawn, sniffle, and cough (which he thankfully pointed his mic away from), he said real words. “Has he… said anything?” Your friend questioned. “Can you even understand each other?”

“No, he’s not exactly talking… Just sort of nodding. So I think he can understand me at least.”

“Alright—good Lord—I’ll be over in like, thirty.”

“That long?!”

“You woke me up! I need to brush my teeth and shit. Make that forty-five, I still reek of alcohol.”

“Fine. Hey, can you bring some clothes for him, too?”

“What?!”

“I don’t have anything that’ll fit him. You guys are about the same size. Or steal some of Jae’s, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, I’m taking Jaehyun’s. I think they’re a bit closer in size.”

“You don’t want an alien to wear your clothes.”

“Excuse me for feeling weird about that! What if he bleeds on them? I’d have to burn them!”

“So you’re volunteering your roommate’s clothes instead.”

“Well—”

“Just get over here, John.”

“Will do. See you, kid.”

“See you.” You hung up. Turning back to the alien, you announced, “My friend will be here soon. He’s just going to look you over. Are you okay? Like, does anything hurt?”

He stared at you.

“Right, those were two different questions.” You shook your head at yourself. “Do you feel any pain? Anywhere?”

He indicated to the wound on his side.

“Makes sense, you got sliced open by something there. Anything else?”

He held his hands out, and you saw that his left wrist was slightly puffier and swollen than the other.

“Oh, looks like you… sprained your wrist?” You said tentatively. You had no clue how his joints worked or if they could even get sprained like yours, but that’s definitely what it looked like.

He nodded.

“Johnny should have something for that,” you assured him. After a few beats of silence, you tried introductions again. “I’m Y/N. I know I already said that, but uh, it’d be nice to know your name, too? I’m pretty sure you can understand me, since you’ve been answering my questions, mostly. So—”

“Did you capture me, then?” He finally spoke, his voice clear but uncertain.

“What? No,” you laughed, completely caught off-guard by the question. “You’re free to go anytime you want. Your ship crashed, and my friends and I found you. I just want to help, but if you want to go right now, I won’t stop you.”

“This is… not a human hospital?”

“No, it’s not,” you chuckled again. “It’s my bedroom. We uh, we weren’t sure if we should take you to a hospital or not. Didn’t want them taking x-rays of you and finding out you had two hearts or something.”

“Just the one.”

“Yes, and it’s on the right side of your chest, right?”

He stared at you with mild alarm.

“Johnny was listening to your heart last night. Had a difficult time finding it.” You tapped the left side of your chest, right above your own heart. “Ours is usually over here.”

He licked his lips, eyes flitting around before they landed on you again, and he finally said, “My name’s Jungwoo.”

“Jungwoo?” You echoed slowly, making sure you were pronouncing it correctly.

“Yes.”

“If you’re from space, why is your name… Korean?”

“It’s not. It can’t be pronounced by humans. You’re missing a flap.” He gestured to his throat. “I suppose that’s the closest approximation that it could get.”

“It?”

“My transcoder.” He picked up the pendant hanging around his neck, a simple rhombus of flat gold metal. “It’s a translation device. That’s why we can understand each other right now. Thankfully, it didn’t get busted in the crash. I don’t speak human.”

“We don’t all speak one language, you know? We have thousands.”

“Wait, really?”

“Does your whole planet speak one language? Speaking of, where are you from?”

“I’m from far outside this galaxy. I’m not sure telling you the name of my planet would be any help.”

“It’d be interesting.”

“Galaria.”

“So you’re… Galarian?”

“Galarii.”

“Ah, I was close. Never was good at conjugation in grammar class.”

“All Galarii speak the same language, to answer your question. We have some regional dialects, but all of us can understand each other. How does your planet hold conversations, come to agreements about policy or run the government at all?”

“We don’t have one government system for the whole planet, so usually we don’t need to. Everybody who lives near each other tend to speak the same language.”

His brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a slight frown. “Then you must all be so… separated.”

You sat down on the corner of your bed in front of him, hoping this was still a polite, conversational distance for Galarii. “I don’t think it’s so bad. People can always learn more than one language if they want, learn about other cultures.”

“How do people from those different cultures even understand each other, though? You seemed confused about my transcoder, I’m guessing you don’t have anything similar here.”

“Translators. People who learn more than one language and interpret between people who don’t speak the same language. Not to mention computer programs will usually get you the gist of something if you’re in a hurry or don’t have access to a more authentic source.”

“How many governments do you have, then? Two? Three?”

You burst into laughter at the idea. “Sorry, sorry, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just… well, to spare you from any degree of human politics, let’s say there’s a debate about how many countries we even have, but people usually say about 200.”

“Two hundred?! How do you get anything done?”

“Very slowly,” you snickered, hiking a leg up onto the side of the bed to get comfier. “So, how does your transcoder work, exactly? Like, how is it getting in my brain? Because watching you talk, it looks like you’re saying the words I’m hearing, but you can’t be.”

“Low-level, short-range telepathic wave.”

“Telepathic?!”

“I’m not sure what word it’s picking to translate, but you seem very shocked.”

“For us, telepathy is magic. It’s a superpower, it’s not real.”

“I can assure you, this all has very sound science behind it. Though I’m more of a pilot than a neuroscientist, so I can’t really explain it...”

“Really good pilot, too. Spectacular landing,” you joked, crossing your fingers that Galarii understood sarcasm.

He seemed to, as he let out a cynical chuckle. “Not my finest work.”

“So what happened that made you crash in the first place?”

“Political assassination.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Attempted murder?” Jungwoo tried another phrase, looking down at his transcoder as if inspecting it for damage.

“Am I harboring a space fugitive right now?”

“No, I’m not on the run from anywhere. I was taking a joyride when suddenly the engines began failing. I presume it was meant to look like an accident. I’ll know more after I can inspect my ship.”

“Ooh, about that,” you winced.

“What?”

“Well, it exploded, for one.”

“Yes, that’s what I figured when you told me ‘your ship is about to explode’ and then I heard an explosion.”

“So you remember some of last night!” You pointed victoriously.

“Some,” he agreed mildly. “In a couple brief bouts of consciousness I had.”

“So, yeah, it exploded, and the explosion and resulting fire drew in a lot of attention. A couple of my friends drove by this morning and the whole place is swarmed with firemen and cops still.”

“I’ll just tell them it’s my ship.”

“No.”

“They should release it to the proper owner, what would the problem be?”

“You crashed here from space in a certifiable UFO. If you walked up and say that it’s yours, if they believe you, they’d probably ship you off for dissection, shoot you on the spot, or kill you then ship you off for dissection.”

“That’s not very polite.”

“Sorry, we don’t really get a lot of alien visitors. Or any, that I’m aware of.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo sighed, looking down at his lap dejectedly.

“So we’ll have to sneak in at night.”

“What?”

“If you want to inspect your ship, we’ll have to sneak in after everybody leaves for the night. And, after they’ve put out the fires.”

“You’re suggesting breaking the law?”

“Do you have a problem with that? It’s just light trespassing, and onto a ship that’s yours anyway.”

“No, I don’t have a problem with that.” Jungwoo’s face finally cracked into a smile. “Just clarifying.”

“So… who are you?”

“I’ve told you my name and species.”

“I meant, who are you on your planet? To have somebody trying to assassinate you. Here, usually people that get assassinated are like, politicians, rulers, activists, sometimes celebrities. Ooh, I’ve got it! You’re a pop star or something!”

“No, I’m not a… musician.” The way he said the word made you think the transcoder must have had a hard time finding an equivalent word in his language.

“Actor?”

“I’m not a celebrity. Well, not how you’re suggesting, I believe.”

“Okay, because you’ve got the look.”

“Look? How am I looking at you?”

“No, I mean you’re really pretty.” You gestured vaguely to his face. “You’d fit right in on a red carpet here.”

“I think I will interpret that as a compliment.”

“Maybe,” you grinned and shrugged. “So? What are you? If you’re not a celebrity, why did someone try to kill you?”

“They weren’t trying to kill me.”

“Who were they trying to kill?”

“My brother, presumably,” he said as if this were the most obvious, natural thing in the world.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound unperturbed by this.”

“Really, this is what I get for stealing his ship.”

“So you are a thief.”

“With permission.”

“Then it’s not stealing.”

“Just like you didn’t want to bore me with Earth politics, I won’t bore you with mine, but let’s say my brother’s very powerful and very controversial,” Jungwoo explained. “He asked that I take his ship and publicly leave the planet on it.”

“So everybody would think he left.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So he could get some paperwork done.”

“What exactly makes him so controversial?”

“None of his policies, really. But people don’t like some choices he’s made in his personal life.”

“Sounds familiar,” you mused, thinking of a few figures on Earth like that as well. “How long was your joyride supposed to take?”

“A few days.”

“Are Galaria days similar to Earth days?”

“I… am not sure.”

“Cool. So what’s going to happen if you don’t come back on time?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve run away,” he admitted. “Though he will be pissed that I diverted from the plan.”

“Well, hopefully we can get you back without getting in too much trouble with him,” you offered him a reassuring smile.

“We?”

“I’m not an engineer or anything, but I’ll help you however I can. Even if it’s just holding the flashlight.”

Jungwoo regarded you not with suspicion, but more-so fascination, like he wanted to put you under a microscope. “I take it not all humans are this helpful.”

“I like to think we all want to do good, but it might look different for different people. And some of us haven’t practiced doing good since we were taught to share as kids.”

“Well, thank you, Y/N. I suppose if we’re going to be sneaking in at night, I will need somebody to hold the flashlight.”

“I’m your girl,” you beamed, right as your doorbell rang, accompanied by a solid knock. “That’ll be Johnny. Wait here.”

“Johnny!” You opened your door, head tilting curiously at the extra figures that accompanied him. “And Mark and Donghyuck. What are you guys doing here?”

“Well—” Mark started.

“We want to see the alien, duh,” Donghyuck pushed past you.

You crossed your arms over your chest. “He’s not a freakshow here for your entertainment.”

“Alright, Ms. High-and-Mighty, excuse us for having natural human curiosity,” Donghyuck scoffed, looked around your living room as if you were hiding him somewhere.

“Let Johnny look him over first, then I will ask Jungwoo if he wants to meet you.”

“Sweet!” “Yes!” They high-fived each other.

“Jungwoo?” Johnny repeated with a suspicious eyebrow raised. “His name’s not like ‘Gorgluk’ or something?”

“It could be, for all I know,” you admitted with a shrug. “According to him, we—humans—don’t have the right… throat flaps to say his actual name. That’s the closest approximation his translating device could make, apparently.”

“Right. Cool. Alien named Jungwoo. We going to meet his brother Steve next?”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m coping.”

Leading Johnny back down the hall, you gently knocked on your bedroom door as you pushed it open. “Hey, Jungwoo, I’m back.”

Jungwoo was right where you’d left him, sitting up in your bed, hands folded over his lap patiently. You saw him stiffen slightly when his eyes moved from you to Johnny as the taller man followed you into the room.

“Jungwoo, this is my friend Johnny. Johnny, this is Jungwoo,” you quietly introduced them.

“Hey,” Johnny nodded to him casually.

“I told you Johnny was going to check you out, remember?”

Jungwoo nodded.

“Does he talk?” Your friend looked at you with a skeptical eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, he’s just shy, or something,” you muttered, walking over to the bedside with Johnny.

Johnny pulled out his stethoscope first, awkwardly listening to the right side of Jungwoo’s chest, then motioned for him to lean forward to listen to his lungs from the back. Once he’d taken the stethoscope out of his ears, Jungwoo spoke.

“You’re a doctor?” The spaceman asked, watching as Johnny opened his kit again to put the tool away.

“Vet.” Johnny answered bluntly, pulling on a pair of latex gloves.

“Vet?”

“Veterinarian. I am a doctor, but my patients are usually on four legs.”

Jungwoo looked up at you in bewilderment. “There are four-legged humans?”

“Animals. I treat animals.”

“Johnny’s really good,” you assured him. “He’s the one that stitched you up.”

“Speaking of—” Johnny gestured to his side. “You mind?”

Jungwoo wordlessly pulled his shirt up to allow Johnny to inspect the wound.

“I’m going to change the dressings,” the vet declared, beginning to peel the bandage off.

To your disbelief, the wound was half the size as before, and looked almost healed up. The amount of blood on the gauze indicated much more damage than you were seeing.

“What the shit?” Johnny swore under his breath.

“Jungwoo, how’s your wrist?” You asked with wide eyes.

He lifted his left hand up, bending and flexing it with no visible reaction. It was a typical size again. “From your reactions, I take it humans heal at much slower rates?”

“Uh, yeah,” you gulped, still staring at the wound on his side in awe. “It would take us days to heal as much as you have.”

“I-I don’t think I need to change the dressing,” Johnny said, his face completely betraying how weirded out he was by what he was looking at. “There’s no blood or any other… fluids coming out of it. It’s entirely scabbed over, nothing should be getting in there. I can put a band-aid on it so the scab doesn’t catch on any clothes, I guess?”

“Do you have any morphine?” Jungwoo requested.

“It can’t hurt that much, it just looks like you bumped a countertop too hard.”

“I think my rib is broken.”

“What?!”

You looked at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“My skin heals quicker than internal parts. It should be fine in a few days, but it does hurt quite a bit now.”

Johnny looked to you for any sort of cue, at the same time that you looked at him for the same. He presumably thought you knew more about aliens than him, and you were seeking his medical opinion.

“Can you have morphine?” Johnny asked him slowly. “Like, is it compatible with your biology, or whatever?”

“Very much. My body naturally produces some, but I’m afraid the concentration of hydrogen in your atmosphere is inadequate for this level of injury.” Jungwoo looked the two of you over with confusion. “Why are you so hesitant to give me it?”

“Well, it’s sort of… addictive,” you tried to explain. “Doctors tend to try other stuff before jumping for the opioids.”

“My body must process it differently. We’ve never seen opioid addiction on my planet.”

You and Johnny met eyes again before Johnny reached back into his kit. He pulled out a small bottle and syringe. As soon as he took the cap off the needle, Jungwoo’s eyes went wide. “And what are you going to do with that?”

“Inject you?” Johnny replied, bewildered. “Unless you were planning on drinking it?”

“You don’t?”

“No! And I’m not going to let you!” Johnny was clearly at his wits end. “Either I stick you, or you don’t get any.”

“Okay, guys,” you jumped in, uncomfortable with the rising tension. Able to realize when Johnny was at his limit, you turned to Jungwoo. “Will it harm you if you get injected with it instead of drinking it?”

“No, but I would prefer not to,” Jungwoo admitted.

“Alien with trypanophobia?” Johnny scoffed.

At the returned stiffness in Jungwoo’s muscles, you looked at him sympathetically. “Is that it, Jungwoo? You’re afraid of needles?”

“I’m not afraid of them, he has one and I’m not running from the room—”

“But you don’t like them being used on you.”

“Y/N, I have a job,” Johnny sighed, checking his watch. “I can’t do this song and dance with him all day.”

“Jungwoo, are you going to let him inject you? Like I said, doctors avoid giving opiates out, we’re not going to be able to get you any from anywhere else.”

“Y/N will hold your hand, will that help?” Your human friend offered tersely.

“Johnny, don’t patronize him.”

“Very well,” Jungwoo cut Johnny off right as he had opened his mouth to respond to you. “That… is an agreeable compromise.”

Johnny gestured at him while staring you down very pointedly. Not having the energy in you to go back and forth with either of them anymore, you sat down at the head of the bed by Jungwoo and offered your hand out to him. His skin was surprisingly warm as he laid his hand atop yours, and you curled your hand around it, then put your other one on top, giving him a gentle pat and small smile that you hoped looked reassuring.

Jungwoo didn’t look at Johnny as he went back to preparing the injection, instead keeping his eyes trained on you. “I… didn’t realize that humans are so cold.”

“Just me,” you told him, squeezing his hand. “Cold hands. You’re about as warm as other humans I’ve met. My friend Jae is like a human space heater. Hates when I put my cold toes on him during movie night.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth to reply, but his face suddenly scrunched up. Johnny must have put the needle in. The alien squinted one eye open as he continued whatever he had been going to say in the first place. “I don’t mind how cold you are.”

“Done,” Johnny declared, quite literally slapping a band-aid over where he had just injected. “And I’m going to work.”

“Taking the other two with you?” You asked hopefully.

“You promised them an alien.”

“I promised I would ask. They’re not entitled to see him.”

“Whatever, I’ve got to go.” Johnny packed everything up quickly. He gave your hair a quick ruffle. “Bye, kid.”

“Bye, Johnny.” You watched him head for the bedroom door.

“Thank you,” Jungwoo called out to him.

The vet gave a final nod to both of you before slipping back out. You heard a sudden swell of noise as the two younger boys accosted him.

“Who else is here?” Jungwoo asked you.

You bit your lip ruefully as you heard the front door open and close, but the voices of Mark and Donghyuck were still very much audible. “Two more of our friends, Donghyuck and Mark. They were at the beach last night, too, when we found you. They want to meet you, if that’s okay with you. I totally get it if you say no. I’ll be more than happy to kick them out.”

“No, that’s alright. I would like to meet them. They’re your friends, right?”

“I guess I did say that,” you sighed, letting go of his hand and standing up. “Okay, be back.”

Out in your living room, the two younger boys practically assaulted you in their excited states, clinging onto your arms desperately.

“Don’t throw us out! We’ll be so good!” Donghyuck pleaded.

“Johnny told us he talks and stuff?!” Mark was buzzing.

“Cool it,” you chastised them. “He said he wants to meet you. Don’t make me regret this.”

“Fuck yeah!” They fistbumped.

“You two are so lame. Come on.” You stalked back over to your room. Jungwoo perked up when you came back in, regarding the two newcomers studiously.

“Jungwoo, this is Mark and Donghyuck,” you gestured to each in turn. “Guys, this is Jungwoo.”

“It’s nice to meet—” Mark’s polite greeting was cut off by Donghyuck.

“So are you from Mars? Jupiter?”

You slapped a hand over your face with a low groan. Jungwoo almost looked amused, thankfully. “No, I’m not from this Solar System. Or galaxy, for that matter.”

“How can you breathe our air?” Mark asked curiously.

“We have a similar composition on my home planet. Though there’s not as much free hydrogen here…”

“Oh!” You suddenly had an epiphany. “The hydrogen. Will water work? Uhm, dihydrogen monoxide?”

“Yes, that will be an apt replacement.”

“I’ll go get you a glass,” you patted his shoulder before hurrying from the room. The others were still talking as you filled up a cup of water, then walked back in with it. You held it out to Jungwoo. “Here.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“So what do you eat?” Donghyuck questioned. “Can you eat our food?”

“I quite like uhm, confections. Desserts.”

“Alien with a sweet tooth…”

“You all keep calling me that. You do realize that to me, you are the aliens?”

“Woah…” Mark breathed out. “You’re right.”

Jungwoo quickly chugged down the glass of water, and you took it back. “I’ll get you another,” you smiled down at him.

Donghyuck perked up, “Oh, Y/N, can I have a—”

“You know where the kitchen is,” you snorted, heading for the door. “I’m not your mom.”

When you returned and handed the cup to Jungwoo again, Mark eyed you with a pout and arms crossed over his chest. “You’re never this nice to us when we get hurt.”

“Yeah, you laughed in Yuta’s face when he broke his leg last year,” Donghyuck narrowed his eyes.

“Because he broke his leg trying to grind an ollie at the skate park at his big age,” you scoffed. “And then had to go into his grown-up job the next day. Tell me how that isn’t funny.”

They exchanged a glance before breaking out into snickers.

“Okay, that is pretty funny,” Donghyuck admitted.

“Exactly.” You glanced at the time on your phone. “Alright, I’m tired of human interaction, you two need to go.”

“But—” Mark gestured wildly to Jungwoo, who was calmly sipping his water.

“My apartment, my rules,” you clicked your tongue, shooing them towards the front door.

“Johnny brought us here, how are we going to get home?” Donghyuck tried to plead with you as you shoved them through your apartment.

“You have bus passes, don’t you?”

“Well yeah—”

“Then, bye!” You opened your door and pushed them out, slamming the door shut behind them. Turning back around, you noticed a stack of clothes on the arm of your couch, and recognized them as some of Jaehyun’s. You grabbed them and took them back with you into your bedroom.

“Ugh, finally,” you sighed, rolling out your neck. “Sorry about them.”

“They were… funny,” Jungwoo settled on an adjective.

You offered out the clothes to your guest. “Here, Johnny brought these for you. My shower is through there, too.” You gestured to your bathroom door. “And I can make something to eat while you freshen up. If you’re hungry. What do you eat? Other than sweet stuff? I don’t have any meat, but I can go get some if you need it—”

“We don’t eat meat, either,” he smiled up at you. “Galarii don’t.”

“Vegetarians?”

“Yes.”

“Well, easy for me, then.” You watched him as he swung his legs around. “You got it? You need any help?”

Jungwoo slowly got to his feet, and you winced as you watched him clutch at his side. Nevertheless, he stayed upright, and took a couple steps forward. “I’ll be alright.”

“Great. Uhm, let me just show you how the shower works and stuff, then I’ll leave you be.” You walked him into the bathroom, pushed back the shower curtain, pointing out the knobs and bottles to Jungwoo. “This one’s for cold water, this one’s for hot water. You have to turn them left to turn them on. Pull this thing up to turn the shower part on instead of the bath. This blue bottle is for shampoo, you do that one first, just on the roots of your hair. Purple one is conditioner, on your ends. Face wash, body wash. Yeah, I think that’s it.”

As you turned back to look at Jungwoo, you realized how close he was as he had leaned in to listen intently to you point out everything. Squinting, you looked closer at a faint smattering of freckles across his cheeks and nose that you hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, I never realized you have freckles,” you commented, blinking a couple times to make sure you were seeing this right. “Or that they were… rainbow? No, just pink? And purple?”

“They’re not freckles.” He touched them as if he were wiping them away, but they didn’t budge. “They’re iridophores, patches of cells that reflect light differently. I believe the fluorescents in here are making them more visible than the dim lighting in the other room.”

“They’re so pretty!” You exclaimed, shifting in another direction so that they were even flashier at this angle, revealing some blue and green as well.

Jungwoo’s hand hovered uncertainly over his face. “You think so?”

“Yeah, of course! What? You don’t?”

“They’re… I don’t know, they’re nothing special on Galaria,” he admitted, dropping his hand to give you a full view of the iridophores. He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side to show some of the top of his shoulder, where there were even more, then let it go. “I have them here too. Everyone does.”

“Well, we don’t have stuff like that here,” you informed him with an awestruck grin. “Anyway, I’ll let you shower, sorry. You’re not some specimen for me to gawk at.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t mind you being curious about me.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you gave him a nod and another smile before leaving the bathroom and heading into the kitchen.

By the time Jungwoo was done with his shower, you had made a couple hefty stacks of pancakes, cut up some fruit, and grabbed a jar of Nutella for good measure, remembering his comment about preferring sweets. You filled up two tall glasses of ice water before also making a cup of tea for yourself. You briefly contemplated running to the boba place around the corner, but it was exactly then that you heard the shower turn off, and thought better of it. Jungwoo emerged in a pair of Jaehyun’s jeans and a slouchy, grey crewneck sweater, looking startlingly human, except for the occasional glint of iridophores on his cheeks and nose. His hair was still a bit damp as he came over to curiously inspect the two plates you had placed on your kitchen counter.

“Pancakes and fruit. Grab a plate and sit wherever, I don’t have a table. I usually eat at the couch.” You gestured. Jungwoo followed your lead and sat in the corner of your couch as you plopped down in your armchair. You cracked open your jar of Nutella, offering it out to him.

“What is that?” He questioned, sniffing the air tentatively.

“Chocolate hazelnut spread,” you stuck a spoon in it. “It’s sweet. You’ll probably like it. Most people do.”

He put some on a small part of a pancake, and tried a bite, then immediately dove back in to slather the rest of his pancakes in it.

“Alien with a sweet tooth,” you chuckled to yourself, digging into your own breakfast.

“You don’t have to… stay with me,” Jungwoo told you between bites. “I remember you telling your friends that you were tired of human interaction. I believe that it’s a common human social nicety to entertain house guests, but you won’t offend me if you wish to be alone.”

“That’s… considerate,” you chuckled. “But the operative word there is human. You’re an alien, so I’m not tired of you yet, Jungwoo.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” you grinned at him, popping a piece of fruit in your mouth.

“May I ask… Why am I staying with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“From what Mark and Donghyuck were saying, it sounds like there were many of your friends there last night when my ship crashed. How did it happen that I ended up here with you?”

“Finders keepers, I guess,” you laughed. Jungwoo gave you a funny sort of look at that, which prompted you to further explain. “I’m the one who found your ship in the first place and wanted to look inside at all. I don’t know how much you remember, but I’m kind of the one who pulled you out. Some of the other guys helped me, don’t get me wrong, but if they had their way, you would’ve been left in there. So, I found you, you’re my responsibility. Finders keepers.”

“Ah, I see.”

Your phone buzzed then, and you saw that it was Doyoung calling. “Oh, that’s Doyoung, I’ve got to take this. Sorry, hold on.” Standing up, you didn’t go very far as you walked over to the living room window to look out over the city as you answered. “Hi, Doie, what’s up?”

“Y/N, hey. How’s your alien?” Your friend asked.

“Fine, all things considering.”

“He alive?”

“Alive, awake, eating, talking, the whole shebang.”

“Shit, really?!”

“Uh-huh,” you confirmed, holding your phone mic-out towards Jungwoo, “Jungwoo, say hi to Doyoung?”

Jungwoo covered his mouth as he quickly chewed and swallowed, then called out, “Hello, Doyoung!”

You brought your phone back up to your ear just in time to hear your friend react. “Holy shit!”

“So what’d you find out from your dad? How much of the ship survived?”

“A lot,” he told you. “They’re calling it a hoax, and they’re not letting news reporters get footage. Apparently they don’t want to encourage any copycats. After putting out the fire, they haven’t let anybody on board. They’re just keeping it cordoned off until the police chief and my dad decide what to do with it. Right now it’s a crime scene while they investigate it as an arson case.”

“But the fire’s been put out, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know anything about how it’s being watched?”

“A couple cops at night, I think.” Doyoung’s voice was guarded. “You’re going to sneak the alien back there, aren’t you?”

“He has to get home somehow, Doyoung,” you insisted. “Unless you think we should steal a spaceship from somewhere else that’s fit for intergalactic travel?”

“Hey, I’m not disagreeing with the whole ‘get the alien back home’ idea,” he said defensively. “Just don’t get arrested while you’re at it, alright? Johnny would have a stroke.”

“Yeah, I know, he nearly had one last night and this morning playing alien doctor,” you sighed. “I don’t think he’d bail me and Jungwoo out of jail if it came to it.”

“Call Yuta for your one phone call if you need. He’s good for it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking. Or Taeyong, he probably wouldn’t hold it over my head.”

“Good point. Or, even better—don’t get arrested in the first place.”

“Plan A: Don’t get arrested. Plan B: Taeyong. Plan C: Yuta. Plan D: You. Plan E: Jaehyun, who would definitely bring Johnny with him.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out,” Doyoung chuckled. “I’ll leave you and Spock to it then.”

“He has a name, you know.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have all the right flaps, right?”

“Who told you? Donghyuck? Mark?”

“Johnny. He called on the way to work to ask if I knew anything about the ship.”

“Huh…”

“Anyway, I’ll leave you and Stitch be. Holler if you need something.”

“You’re hilarious. You’re fucking hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, hanging up. Plopping back down in your armchair, you relayed the pertinent parts of your conversation to Jungwoo. “According to Doyoung, a lot of your ship survived the explosion. They’ve put the fire out, but there will probably be a couple cops patrolling it at night, so we’ll have to be careful when we go check it out tonight. Until then, I guess we’ll just hang out. Sound good? How are you feeling? How’s your side? Do you need more bandages after showering? I can call Johnny up, probably swing by his office and get some more or see if he can come by on his lunch and take a look at you? Maybe bring some more morphine?”

“I don’t need any more bandages,” Jungwoo shook his hand, lifting the sweatshirt to allow you to see how he’s healed so far. There was still a considerable amount of bruising, but the skin had entirely mended itself, no evidence of a scab, only a dark, puffy scar.

“Does it still hurt?” You asked with a sympathetic grimace. “I know you said you take longer to heal internally than on the outside. I can probably convince him to bring some more morphine for you. I don’t know what your metabolism is like compared to ours, or even how much he gave you last time. I mean, are you in pain?”

“It is painful,” he admitted, dropping his shirt again. “But I don’t—I’ll be fine.”

“Jungwoo, if it hurts—”

“Not that bad.”

You felt a bit mean for this, but you reached out to poke his side, and he immediately let out a yelp, covering his wound and ducking away from you.

“What did you do that for?” He asked you, jaw dropped.

“You liar,” you scoffed, bringing your phone out. “I’m texting Johnny.”

“He will administer it the same way as last time, won’t he?” Jungwoo questioned quietly, stopping your typing.

You put your phone down. “Probably, yeah. He’s not… used to letting people drink that stuff.”

“Then I will be fine without it.”

“Even if I hold your hand again? You can’t do another one?” You asked. “I’ll talk to you, you can squeeze my hand like a stress ball—or we’ll get you a real stress ball, whatever you want.”

He was silent, and you let out a sigh.

“Jungwoo, I don’t like seeing you hurt, you know,” you shook your head, cutting off a piece of your pancakes with the side of your fork, lifting it to your mouth. “But it’s up to you, I’m not going to hold you down and make him stick you or anything.”

With a flash of iridophores, Jungwoo’s head turned, and his eyes were focused back on you, his hands wringing together. “I’ll do it.”

Your jaw stopped mid-bite. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yes. If Johnny agrees. I get the impression he doesn’t like me very much…”

“No, no, he likes you just fine, I promise!” You reassured him, reaching forward to pat his knee. “I just stress him out, that’s all. I’ll text him right now, okay? We’ll get you feeling better in no time!”

“Can’t believe he’s making us come to him,” you grumbled, pushing your way through the sidewalks with Jungwoo’s arm around your shoulders. “You literally have bruised ribs and fell from the fucking sky last night.”

“I don’t mind,” Jungwoo tried to be diplomatic, even as he held his side with his free hand. “He’s doing me a favor.”

“He’s being an asshole.” You tried to match Jungwoo’s slow, hobbling pace. “Making you come all the way across the city in pain. Risking you being out in public. Goddamn asshole.”

“I don’t mind,” your companion repeated, looking up past the visor of the baseball cap you’d put on him to conceal his glinting iridophore flecks as best as possible. “I haven’t seen much of Earth. Your sky is beautiful. Is it always blue?”

“During the day, yeah, usually. What color is Galaria’s?”

“A bright violet.” He was leaning more of his weight on you, and you stepped into the alcove of a shop door to rest for a moment. The crowd continued hurrying by you as you leaned against the wall and Jungwoo leaned against you.

“Purple sky?” You repeated, staring up at the crystalline blue expanse above you and trying to picture it.

“Yes, most of the time.”

“That sounds really gorgeous.”

“I suppose it is.”

You looked over at him curiously. “You don’t think so?”

“Well, I suppose I’m just so used to it… I don’t know,” he shrugged, looking back to the clear aqua sky above you. “I quite like your blue sky.”

“I think I’d like to see your purple sky someday,” you hummed thoughtfully.

“Really?”

“Yeah, as long as you could bring me back,” you shrugged. “Always wanted to travel.”

Jungwoo blinked down at you, and you shook your head with a chuckle.

“Sorry, that probably sounded like I was asking to run away with you or something. And you’re like, in a bunch of pain,” you laughed at yourself. “I should stop blabbing and get you to the man with the morphine. You ready to keep going?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

At Johnny’s animal clinic, you had to stay in the waiting room while he finished up with a patient. After he handed the dog back to its owner, and dismissed the front desk attendee for their lunch break, he finally gestured the two of you back. You helped Jungwoo up from his seat, wrapping his arm back around you so you could slowly follow your friend into the back. Johnny held the door open for you all as he led the way into the exam room. You could tell the morphine had been wearing off faster and faster, even though Jungwoo hadn’t said anything. He had been favoring his side more and more, and vocalizing noises of pain more frequently as the day wore on.

“How is it?” Johnny was nice enough to ask as you helped Jungwoo half-sit and half-lean on the exam table. You’d seen some pretty big animals on this thing, you were pretty sure it could handle him.

“Fine,” Jungwoo hissed.

“He’s not bleeding on the outside anymore, but everything’s still pretty banged up internally,” you answered honestly, shooting Jungwoo a pointed look. “Do you think you could like x-ray him while we’re here? See if anything’s broken?”

Johnny stopped where he had been getting supplies from some drawers. “Would x-rays kill him?”

“I mean, you traveled through space, right? Isn’t there a bunch of radiation there?” You asked Jungwoo hopefully. “Johnny can take some pictures of you with x-rays, right?”

“Yes, that will be fine,” Jungwoo nodded minutely.

And so Johnny moved around his portable x-ray machine to take a few images of Jungwoo’s side where the pain was most concentrated. You had to stand outside the room while it was being done, but as soon as Johnny gave you the thumbs-up, you rushed back in, helping Jungwoo sit back up. Johnny took the lead vest back off, leaving him in his white coat again as he went back over to the imaging machine.

“Okay, here we go,” Johnny muttered, clicking a few things on the computer to pull up the images. “Remember, I’m not a human doctor, and definitely not an alien doctor.”

“We know, Johnny,” you retorted.

The first image came up, and you yourself weren’t any kind of doctor, but that definitely didn’t look right. A dark line going right down what you assumed to be a rib, splitting it all the way through. “Yep, your rib’s broken,” Johnny declared, pointing to the severance.

Jungwoo’s brow furrowed with concern. “It shouldn’t—”

“Yeah, no shit. Remember, dude, you fell out of the sky twelve hours ago, I’m surprised you’re alive.”

“No, I should be more healed than that.”

“You said that the lack of hydrogen in the atmosphere was making it so your body couldn’t produce as much natural painkillers, remember? Maybe something is making you heal a bit slower, too,” you suggested reassuringly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, it’ll just be a little longer.”

“That’s probably it,” Johnny agreed. “Are you eating enough? I know Y/N only has that vegan crap at her house, you probably need a real meal—”

“His whole planet is vegetarian, you dick.” You flipped him off. “You’d probably kill him if you gave him a steak.”

“Alright, damn,” he held his hands up with a laugh. “Let me just shoot him up with morphine and you two can get out of here, huh? I’ll do a double dose from last time.”

“I need to be able to get him home, John,” you said frankly.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” you nodded, then looked to the alien. “Sound good Jungwoo? Twice as much as last time? So hopefully it’ll last a bit longer?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on Johnny as the human had gone back to getting the supplies for the injection. You grabbed his hand without prompting, flashing him a bright smile as you tried to come up with something to talk about to distract him. “So, how else are Earth and Galaria different?” You asked him. “The skies are different colors, we know that. What about the oceans? Do you guys have oceans?”

“Yes, we do.”

“Ours are blue, for the most part. Or, a blue-green.”

“We have—oh,” he wrinkled his nose, but didn’t look away from you. “Pink seas.”

“I think we have a pink sea too, somewhere!” You perked up. “I’d have to look it up, but I’m pretty sure somewhere has pink water. It might be a lake, actually, not a proper sea. Don’t quote me on it…”

Jungwoo smiled at that. “I won’t hold you to it, then.”

“What about like, glaciers? Do you have those? Really big floating chunks of ice in the ocean?”

“Galaria is mostly frozen tundra…”

“Damn, really?! How cold is it there? Wait, there’s like, no way we use anywhere near the same units of measurement for temperature. Your transcoder probably couldn’t help with that, huh?”

“No, we presumably don’t use the temperature scale.”

“All done,” Johnny announced, scooting his chair back and disposing of his needle and gloves. “I’ll take you two home now.”

“Thanks, Johnny.” You smiled up at him, helping Jungwoo up. “How are you feeling, Jungwoo?”

The Galarii took a couple slow blinks. “Mm… starting to feel better…”

“You said morphine doesn’t make you high, does it make you tired?” You questioned, following Johnny out towards the back where his car was parked in the alley.

“Not usually… but my body hasn’t been doing what it’s supposed to be doing the whole time I’ve been here…” he said slowly, narrowly missing hitting his head on the roof as you helped him into the backseat. You scooted in after him, encouraging him to lean against you after you’d buckled him up.

Johnny took off quickly through the streets, occasionally watching the two of you in the rearview mirror. Outside your apartment building, he helped you unload a half-awake Jungwoo, the alien rousing himself just enough to climb the stairs. Giving your friend a final thank-you and goodbye at the entrance to your apartment, you tugged Jungwoo back into your home, guiding him once again back to your bed.

“Come on, time for a nap,” you sighed, encouraging him to lay down. “You need to rest up, dude.”

“Y/N?” He murmured, grabbing your forearm as you went to walk away to leave him in peace.

“Yes?” You stopped, looking down at him attentively. “Do you need something, Jungwoo? Water? Food?”

“Will you just… sit with me? And talk to me? Until I go to sleep?” He requested. “I… find your company soothing.”

“Oh.” You shifted your weight uncertainly between your feet, but acquiesced nevertheless, scooting onto the corner of the mattress near his head. “Sure, Jungwoo. Here, I’ll look up those pink oceans I was talking about, see if I was right.”

And so you read some Wikipedia articles to Jungwoo about various pink lakes and beaches until his eyes fluttered shut, his breathing evened out, and you were more than certain that he was asleep. But even after you were sure he was fast asleep, and you stopped reading the article aloud, you stayed right there, silently scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking from your screen over to his face. Because for some reason that you couldn’t put your finger on, you sort of found his presence calming, too.

When it seemed as though Jungwoo was stirring, you quickly got up from your spot and scurried from the room, feeling a bit weird about sitting and watching him sleep the whole time. You had a feeling that he wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want it to be a fact known to anybody but you that you had done that. Truly, you didn’t even want to really admit it to yourself, either. And so, when Jungwoo finally wandered out of your bedroom some hours later, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he found you tucked into the corner of your couch, in the middle of an episode of a TV show, as if you had been doing that the whole time.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you greeted him nonchalantly, pausing the episode. “How’d you sleep?”

“Mm, well,” his reply was punctuated by a yawn.

“And how are you feeling?”

“I’m still feeling the painkiller effect, but I am no longer tired.”

“So, do you think you’ll be up for checking out your ship tonight?” You checked the time on your phone. “We can probably eat dinner then head out after.”

“Yes, I would very much like to see it.”

“Cool, let’s do it.”

After eating another modest meal prepared by you, you and Jungwoo headed out. The streets weren’t as busy at night, and with Jungwoo moving fully of his own power again, the two of you were able to make your way through them much quicker. The intel you got from Doyoung was good, the entire expanse of beach was roped off with police tape, and one officer was stationed on either side of the shoreline. Because of how far the fire had spread through the trees, the officers were pretty far from where you remembered the ship being. Getting in and out would be the tricky part, but once you were in, you were certain they would be none the wiser that somebody was there.

Jungwoo followed you silently, and you finally found what you were looking for. The old public access to the beach. When you were little, everyone used to have to take a steep staircase that started right off the highway. After a particular heavy rainy season that brought rockslides from the mountain up above, it was deemed entirely unusable by the city, all markers for it taken away, left in disrepair, and a new, much safer one was made further down the road. There was a ‘CAUTION: ROCKSLIDES’ sign nearby, which is how you knew you were in the right place. The best part was that it was right in the middle of the thicket of trees, meaning that as long as you were quick, you should be able to drop right in undetected.

All boardwalks and rope that had been spared by rockslides and Mother Nature over the years were left untouched by the city government, and you were able to start the steep descent like normal. It was about a third of the way down that things started getting dicey, broken pieces of wood, large gaps that you had to step over, and several areas where you had to test the steadiness of rocks before putting your weight on it because there was no manmade material for you to step on at all. When you and Jungwoo got to the place where the path would’ve diverted to the beach instead of dropping you right into the trees, you bit your bottom lip and resisted cursing aloud. It was a steep drop from where you were. It was too dark for you to see where the ground was, but instinct and memory told you it was too steep for you to just jump down. Looking around desperately, you realized there was a much shallower incline further down the trail, but it was close to where one of the officers was patrolling. You were already too near him for your liking.

A distant voice humming got closer and closer, and you held your breath and held your position, keeping your eyes peeled in the direction of the noise for any sign of movement through the trees. You never did see the police officer, but eventually the humming got further away again, until you stopped hearing it, and you made a break for the shallow area, sliding down the mostly sandy, occasionally rocky hill on your butt. You heard the sounds of Jungwoo hurrying after you, but didn’t look behind you until you were sure you two were well concealed in the trees again. Glancing up at him, you saw his chest heaving, and motioned for him to keep quiet as you listened to the officer run back over towards the road end of his side.

The crackle of a walkie-talkie, then a distant voice. “Hey, I think I heard something. You hear anything?”

After a second, his buddy responded, his voice slightly garbled through the walkie-talkie speaker. “Yeah, you heard a rock fall down the mountain. Rockslide area. Been hearing them all night.”

“Damn, you’re right. Thanks.” And he was gone again.

You took off through the brush at a brisk pace, knowing that Jungwoo would be right behind you. The ship was easy to find, with the concentration of charred and blackened foliage getting greater and greater the closer you got to it. When you finally found it, the spaceship was mostly intact, which the size of the explosion from last night did not lead you to believe. Jungwoo let out a sigh of relief, and did a quick walk-around first. It was when you got to the tail that you saw why there had been such a huge fireball. Four huge canisters that must have housed something flammable were nothing more than metallic flowers now, the material burst open and curling over on itself from the force of the explosion.

“The reactors…” Jungwoo breathed out.

You chewed on your bottom lip, asking quietly, “Is it fixable?”

“I don’t want to say anything until I see the inside.”

You followed him around to the side, where he pressed a button that you had missed last night on account of it being entirely smooth and looking like nothing more than a random dot. A set of hand and foot rails emerged seamlessly from the surface of the hull for you to climb up with. Once the two of you were up at the cockpit, Jungwoo pressed another button up there, and the ladder seemed to melt back into the metal of the ship once again. The glass was still propped open, making it very easy for you to hop down into the ship. Whatever red flashing warning lights that were going off before had deactivated, leaving it in pitch black, and you immediately brought out your phone to turn the flashlight on.

“Ah, thank you,” Jungwoo said as you pointed it at wherever he looked.

“I told you, I’m your flashlight girl,” you grinned.

As he looked over many different panels and controls in the cockpit, you drank in every detail with fascination. While the button on the outside of the ship had functioned seemingly almost like a touchscreen, the ones in here looked analog at least, though you couldn’t figure out for the life of you what a single one was for. You kept your hands to yourself. Jungwoo finally pressed a button, and a screen lit up, one that quaintly reminded you of computers from the nineties in its size and resolution. As he navigated through the program, you watched with interest. He sat down in one of the two chairs, and indicated to the other one for you. You eagerly sat. It was remarkably comfy.

“You seem to be very close to Johnny,” he commented abruptly, spamming one button in particular with a bit of frustration.

“We’re all really close.” You nodded, and the program finally loaded the next screen. “But yeah, I guess John and I are a bit different. Our parents are all friends, so we’ve been friends since we were little. He’s had to deal with my bullshit for our whole lives. We even call each other’s parents Aunt and Uncle, that kind of thing.”

“He is… similar to your cousin?”

“Sort of? I don’t know, he was kind of like a built-in older brother.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of your mouth as you reminisced in childhood memories. “People in our neighborhood and at school did actually think we were cousins. He’s a few years older than me, and I was a bit of a troublemaker. I remember he’d pull me away from getting into fights with kids way bigger than me, or when I’d talk back to teachers, the head teacher always brought the both of us in for a scolding. Something about how he should be keeping his younger cousin in check, too. Poor guy. He took it like a champ. We came to an agreement that he wouldn’t tell my parents if I stopped getting in trouble so much.”

“You’re not so unruly anymore.”

“Oh, I’ve still got a bit of a rebellious streak,” you chuckled. “Johnny always says I’m going to make him go grey. I mean, you and I are literally on a crime scene right now. And I pulled an alien out of a spaceship that was about to explode last night.”

“I suppose that’s true…” Jungwoo trailed off, brow furrowing as what looked like a schematic of some sort came up on the screen. “Hm.”

“Something wrong?”

“Mixed results.”

“What?”

“There are some bad things and some good things.”

“Tell me the bad stuff first.”

“What?”

“When somebody says ‘I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news,’ they’re supposed to let you pick if you want to hear the good news or the bad news first,” you explained the small colloquialism. “I want the bad news first, so we can end on the good stuff.”

“I see…” he hummed, clicking a few more things. “The bad news is… I will need to reconstruct the reactors and make other minor repairs.”

“And how long will that take?”

“I do not know Earth measurements of time.”

“You’ve been on Earth for one day now. How many of those do you think it’ll take?”

He took a moment to think about this, then eventually answered, “Twenty to thirty? Maybe more, maybe less, I’m unsure, I was asleep for much of the ‘day’ that I experienced.”

You nodded. “Okay. And the good news?”

“There was no serious structural damage to the hull or critical systems of the ship. Once I reconstruct the reactors and make those repairs, I will be able to leave.”

“That’s great news, Jungwoo!” You beamed, holding up a hand for him. He uncertainly put his palm against yours and laced your fingers together, eyes flicking around the ship nervously. You burst into laughter. “I wasn’t trying to hold your hand again, sorry. It’s a high-five. It’s celebratory, friendly.”

“Ah. My apologies. How do you do that, then?” He took his hand back from yours.

“I put my hand up for you, and you hit your palm to mine pretty hard. You’re trying to make a—” you clapped your own two hands together “—sound.”

“I think I understand.”

“Okay, take two.” You held your hand up, and he gingerly tapped his hand to yours. Once again, you couldn’t help but giggle fondly. “Yeah, pretty much. A for effort,” you declared. “So, anything else you need to do right now? Or is that it for tonight?”

“I wish I could begin working right now, however I will need lots of materials for the reactors.”

“Let’s get out of here, we can talk about what kind of stuff you need and where to get it on the way home.”

“So is your brother older or younger?” You asked as you and Jungwoo took a more leisurely pace back to your apartment.

“I’m sorry?” Jungwoo tilted his head, as if he hadn’t heard you, which was weird, considering he was already looking at you when you turned to ask him that.

“Your brother whose ship you took. Is he older than you or younger?”

“I… don’t know.” He frowned thoughtfully.

You balked. “You don’t know?”

“No. It’s not something we’re told on Galaria.”

“But—” You laughed out of habit as your brain tried to process this information. “What? Why?”

“It’s not important.”

“I mean, I guess not. But like, it is!”

“Why?”

“I mean, some cultures here have entire systems of honorifics that you call people based on your age relative to theirs. But just—” You were still staring at him. “Don’t you know how old your brother is?”

“I know his birthday.”

“But not how old he is?”

“I… suppose not.” He shrugged. “That’s all kept somewhere.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just difficult for me to wrap my head around. You’re not allowed to know your brother’s age—”

“I’m allowed to know,” he corrected you. “If we were to learn somehow now, it would be fine. There’s no punishment for it. But it’s just not something that we grow up knowing. Nobody is referred to as the older or younger.”

“Do you remember your brother being born?”

“No.”

“Was he in a higher grade than you in school?”

“School is based on ability, not age.” It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “You move up in levels as your learning progresses, not your physical body. Is that how it works here?”

“We keep kids who are the same age together, yeah.”

“Fascinating.”

“What about siblings that have big age gaps? Where you can totally tell who’s older and who’s younger?” You asked. “Or step-siblings? Like, you already knew their age and then your parents got together?”

“Again, it’s not forbidden to know a sibling’s age,” Jungwoo reiterated. “It’s just not… important.”

“So if your brother is a controversial politician… What are you?” It felt like you could ask him questions forever and never run out. “You never did tell me that earlier.”

“My profession?”

“Yeah. What do you for work?”

“Specialized cargo transport.”

“Uh…” You blinked up at him. “You know that sounds really shady, right?”

“When people need things transported across galaxies, typically under time constraints, or with specific instructions, they come to me.” He tried to explain it further.

“What kind of stuff have you transported, then?”

“Anything from fuel, to an engagement comb, to produce from someone’s home planet that they were missing after moving elsewhere,” he shrugged.

“So you’re like an intergalactic DHL driver,” you laughed. “Sounds fun, I guess. You’ve been to a lot of places, then?”

“Yes, many different planets and cities and galaxies.”

“And this is your first time on Earth?”

“I haven’t had a reason to come to this solar system before. Your planet isn’t exactly involved in intergalactic trade. So, I might not have another chance to visit.”

“Nobody’s requesting any black market Earth commodities?”

“I guess… we don’t really know what’s here. Nobody’s ever put in the effort to find out, I suppose.”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “We’re just not interesting enough, huh? Can’t even make it on the niche alien knickknack market.”

Jungwoo smiled a little. “That tends to be a good thing, in my experience.”

The two of you were walking through a night market at that point, and you perked up as you saw a particular stall. Your dinner earlier hadn’t included a dessert for Jungwoo. You stopped him, pointing to the ice cream stand. “Ooh, hey, you want something sweet?”

“Sweet…?” He peered over the crowd to try to see what they were serving.

“Yeah, dessert. Ice cream. Want some? They’ve got toppings too.” You pulled him into the line as you talked. “You can get sprinkles and candy, or even entire brownies as toppings. And they’ve got some really good flavors.”

“Which flavor do you like?”

“Peanut butter cup and green tea are my two favorites. But you can only get one flavor at a time here,” you sighed wistfully, getting on your tiptoes to look at their options again. “I think I’m going to do green tea today…”

With your own green tea cone and Jungwoo’s peanut butter cup selection in hand, the two of you started back down the streets together. You watched with interest as Jungwoo took his first tentative lick off the scoop, his face lighting up with delight.

“It’s good!” He declared happily. “We have something similar... on Galaria.”

“If your planet is mostly frozen tundra...” you paused to eat some of your own ice cream. “Is most of your food hot or cold?”

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment. “I don’t know...”

“It’s okay, Jungwoo,” you laughed at how hard he seemed to be thinking about it. “I wouldn’t be able to answer that about Earth food. It wasn’t a very fair question, I think.”

“Still, I feel bad that I can’t answer your question.”

“It’s fine, really,” you promised, squeezing his arm. “It’s not going to keep me up at night.”

The next day, after another injection from Johnny on the vet’s way into work, you took Jungwoo to Yuta’s garage. There was no way you would be of any serious help when it came to furnishing him with parts for his ship, nor did you really want him just walking into your local hardware store asking for alien spaceship parts. Today seemed to be a slow day, as only one of Yuta’s coworkers was there, firmly wedged under a car on the other side of the garage, loudly playing music from a speaker, so you weren’t worried about him eavesdropping on your conversation so long as you kept your voices low. Jungwoo and Yuta had a slightly rocky start, obviously using different terminology, but eventually got on the same page, leaving you in the dust as they started going over various specifications and parts. You zoned out, taking over Yuta's chair and kicking up your feet on his workbench as you let their words go in one ear and out the other.

“Hey,” Yuta’s hand came down on your head, catching your attention again.

You craned your neck back to look up at him. “Yeah?”

“I’ve given him everything I had in stock, there’s a few things you guys will have to pick up at a shop,” he explained, and you turned around to see Jungwoo loaded up with a duffel bag that he hadn’t walked in with. “I wrote everything out so you know how to ask for it in human.”

“Thanks, Yuta.” You stood up and got out your wallet. “How much do I owe you for the parts?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“What? But—”

“Hey, we all want to help him get home.” He held his hands up, backing away from your money. “Just doing my part.”

You narrowed your eyes at him knowingly. “Uh-huh... very charitable... What’s the catch?”

“Well, I’m going on this date tomorrow, and—”

“Pass.”

“You didn’t even hear me out!”

“I’m assuming the girl wants to bring a friend, you’re trying to turn it into a double date,” you snorted. “The last time I went on a double date with you—”

“No, not you,” Yuta waved you off. “Jungwoo!”

“Excuse me?”

Your friend had already sidled up to the alien, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “What do you think? Date with an Earth girl? You’re only going to be here for so long...”

You rubbed your face in exasperation. “Yuta, you do remember that we don’t want people to find out that we have an alien here, right?”

“We can say he’s from out of town.”

“What is wrong with you?” You stared at him incredulously. “Just bring Johnny, or Jae, or any of your other ten million single human loser friends.”

“You’re not Jungwoo’s mom,” Yuta snorted.

“Well, no—”

“There we go, Jungwoo, do you want to go?” Yuta focused his question on Jungwoo instead.

Jungwoo’s eyes shifted nervously between you and Yuta. “Uhm, well...”

“Okay, I hate to be crude here, but keeping in mind how your successful dates usually look, Yuta,” you cut in again pointedly, “We can’t risk exposing what Jungwoo is. Doesn’t matter if we say he’s from out of town.”

Yuta raised an eyebrow at you. “Wow, Y/N, didn’t think you’d bring up the alien dick angle first.”

You groaned as your face burned. “You’re the worst. Why’d you have to say it?”

“Pretty sure you said it—”

“Will you drop it?!”

“I don’t want to go!” Jungwoo interjected loudly, stopping yours and Yuta’s bickering. “I don’t want to go. Uhm, thank you for the invitation, Yuta, really. But I’d rather not...”

Yuta shrugged. “Alright. I’m pretty sure Doyoung’s free.”

Your skin was still on fire as you left Yuta’s garage. He didn’t end up making you pay, despite neither of you fulfilling his need for a double-date partner. You were pretty sure the embarrassment of that conversation was payment enough in his mind. As you and Jungwoo headed for the nearest hardware store, you swallowed down some of your discomfort, unable to imagine how Jungwoo was feeling in that moment.

“I’m sorry about him, Jungwoo,” you sighed. “He shouldn’t have dragged you into all that.”

He looked down at you curiously. “Do you frequently feel the need to apologize for others’ behavior?”

You blinked at him, caught off-guard. “Uhm... What?”

“You apologized for Donghyuck and Mark being excited and a bit overzealous—in your opinion—when they met me. Now you’re apologizing for Yuta asking for a favor that was inappropriate—again, in your opinion. Do you do that a lot? Feel responsible for what your friends do or say to other people?”

“Well... I mean, no,” you stared down at the shopping list in your hand hard as you thought. “I guess... I’m embarrassed that they’re not behaving better around you.”

“You’re embarrassed of your friends?”

“No, I like them. I like my friends, or I wouldn’t be their friend.” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I mean... they’re not treating you like someone they just met. They’re treating you like they’ve known you for as long as they’ve known the rest of us. You’re supposed to ease into that stuff so you don’t scare people off.”

“That makes me happy,” Jungwoo declared, a soft smile on his face as he looked down at you.

“What? Why?”

“Both that your friends would want to be familiar with me and not treat me like an outsider, and that you’re afraid of their behavior making me uncomfortable,” he explained. “You don’t want me to leave. Of course that makes me happy.”

You felt your eyes widen as you looked up at him. “Well, I mean, I do want you to leave, eventually. Obviously, I want you to go home. But I mean, yeah, I want your time here to be nice, you know? I don’t want you to be back home on Galaria thinking about your time on Earth being bad.”

A strange look flickered across the spaceman’s face then, you could’ve almost sworn it was pained, before the same serene smile came back. “I think I’ll remember my time on Earth very fondly. Really.”

You looped your arm with his, trying to shake the memory of the odd look on his face from your mind, playfully bumping your shoulder into him. “Well then let’s get you off Earth so you can start looking back on it, hm?”

After getting your last few things at the hardware store, you had to wait for the sun to go down before heading back to the beach. The path down to the ship was even more treacherous now that the two of you were loaded up with supplies, but you finally made it there in one piece. Jungwoo didn’t stop in the cockpit this time, leading the way towards the back of the ship, through the narrow hallway. He pressed a button outside a doorway, then when nothing happened, pressed it again. Nothing. He banged his fist against it a couple of times, cursing under his breath.

“What’s in there?” You asked.

“It’s the crew quarters,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There’s a desk in there. We’ll be a lot more cramped working in the cockpit, but apparently this circuitry got affected too.”

“But we can still do it, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah, yeah.”

You turned around to head back to the front of the ship. “Then let’s get started.”

Jungwoo seemed to be able to do much of the repairs on his own. You shone the flashlight on the work area, handed him tools and parts when requested, or held small pieces so they didn’t roll away from him. It was a bit cramped sitting on the floor of the cockpit behind the seats, it obviously wasn’t designed with this purpose in mind, and Jungwoo’s long limbs only made the space feel even smaller.

“Can you move the light here?” He requested, pointing to the side of the device that was facing him.

You scooted closer, trying to maneuver your phone around without blocking his vision with it. “How’s that?”

He shook his head. “I still can’t—”

“Hold on.” You scooted around behind him instead, pointing the flashlight from over his shoulder. “What about this?”

Jungwoo was quiet for a beat, and you peered around to try to look him in the eye.

“Jungwoo?”

“That’s perfect,” he answered, eyes focused down at object in his hands. “Is your arm getting tired?”

That was the first time you really noticed the ache in your limb from holding up your phone for so long. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“You can rest it on my shoulder, if you want.”

“Oh, thanks.” You lowered your arm until it was propped up by his shoulder, making sure you adjusted your grip on your phone to keep your light on the same place. “Light still good?”

“Yes, thank you.”

As he kept working, you quietly watched his deft fingers move over the pieces. “So how do you know how to do all this?”

“I fly a lot,” he answered, his attention held by the parts in his hands as he was trying to precisely line up two of them.

“Yeah, but I mean, I have a driver’s license and I couldn’t change a flat tire, gun to my head, much less fix up the whole car if I crashed it off the side of a mountain,” you scoffed.

“You’re allowed to pilot a vehicle that you’re unable to repair yourself?”

“We have mechanics and stuff for that. Are you saying you’re not allowed to get your spaceship pilot’s license or whatever on Galaria without knowing how to build one from scratch?”

“You’re required to have a certain engineering proficiency to get your solo pilot’s license, yes.”

“Ah, you have a specialty license, then.”

“Yes, I do. It’s a requirement in case you ever find yourself in circumstances like this.”

“Crash landed on an alien planet and stranded with a busted ship?”

“Yes.”

You noticed that he had paused his machinations as you were talking. “Sorry, am I distracting you?”

“No, this is all I can do tonight. The adhesive needs to cure for some time before I can continue working.” He carefully set the part down. “I should be able to resume tomorrow night, I believe.”

“Sounds good to me.” You yawned and stretched your arms over your head. “I’ve got work tomorrow anyway.”

“And what job do you do?” Jungwoo asked with intrigue as the two of you stood up.

“Reception at a law firm.” You could feel your nose habitually wrinkle with disdain.

“You don’t like it?” He immediately surmised.

Thankfully, the two of you were climbing out of the ship then, and had to stay silent through your trek up from the beach. You had time to think about how to answer his question as you climbed back up to the main roadway.

Finally, as the two of you started the walk down the shoulder of the highway, you let out a huff and said, “The work is fine, I guess. Except I hate being talked down to and belittled by people on the phone who think I’m stupid just because they’re attorneys and I’m not, or because I’m a woman, or I’m young, or because I’m just a receptionist or whatever. And I hate when they start yelling at me for no fucking reason, and I hate when people are in the office and start being fucking rude to me and I’m supposed to just sit there and take it. And I hate that in between all of that, it’s fucking boring. It constantly fluctuates between being so stressful and so goddamn boring I want to bang my head against a wall either way.”

“So... you don’t like it?” he asked again, head tilted with clear confusion on his features.

“It’s a job,” you replied flatly. “I need to eat. Do you like your job?”

“Yes, quite,” he replied quietly. After a pause, he questioned, “What sort of work do you want to do, then?”

“I wish I didn’t have to.” You let out a cynical chuckle, looking up at the sparse dotting of stars above you as the hum of the city streets started up around you again. “I mean, I’ve always wanted to see more of the world, just do more, learn more. And now that I know that aliens are real—” You looked over at Jungwoo wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever be happy behind a desk again. You know?”

Jungwoo met your eyes, his lips parted as he couldn’t seem to respond for a moment.

You shook your head at yourself, looking back down at your feet and the concrete below them. Forcing humor back into your tone, you apologized, “Sorry, sorry. Of course you don’t know, you’re criss-crossing galaxies all the time, huh? You’ve got enough problems of your own right now anyway, you don’t need mine too.”

A large hand grabbed yours, cool to the touch and surprisingly firm as it squeezed yours. You could feel the callouses on Jungwoo’s hand where his skin pressed against yours. Shifting your gaze from your shoes back up to the alien, you furrowed your brow curiously, but made no move to pull away.

“Please, give them to me,” he said. “And when I leave, you can imagine that I’m taking all your problems with me, to somewhere very far away from here.”

It was your turn to be speechless for a moment, and the only thing that kept you from skidding to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk was the sea of other pedestrians keeping your momentum moving forward. Your skin got hotter, and you wondered if Jungwoo could feel it where he was holding your hand.

In an instinctive bid to diffuse the tension that was currently squeezing all the air from your lungs, you gave his shoulder a friendly bump as you teased, “Alright, well here’s a new problem: That’s quite possibly the most romantic thing anybody’s ever said to me, and I’m 100% sure you didn’t even do that on purpose.”

“I—”

“And our next problem—” You plowed right past whatever Jungwoo was about to say, still fighting the prickle along your skin where you knew his eyes were. “Unfortunately, it’s not Bring Your Alien to Work Day tomorrow, so do you think you’ll be okay at my apartment by yourself all day? Or do you want me to see if some of the guys can keep you company?”

“While I don’t want to inconvenience anybody, if somebody has time, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of the city.”

“Sure, I’ll find someone.” You immediately took your phone out to text your top choice.

[you: are you busy tomorrow? i need someone to hang out with jungwoo while im at work]

[yonggie: i have a few errands to run and a few of us were talking abt seeing a movie in the afternoon. he’s welcome to tag along!]

[yonggie: unless the grocery store and stuff is going too be too boring?? i can do it another day and we can do something else!]

[you: i just feel bad keeping him cooped up in my apartment by himself all day. im sure he’ll have plenty of fun going grocery shopping with you. he’s never seen a human grocery store, after all]

[yonggie: sounds like a plan! let him know i’ll be by around 10ish!]

[you: thanks yonggie, i owe you]

“Taeyong is free tomorrow,” you announced to Jungwoo. “You haven’t really met him yet, but he was there when we found you. You don’t mind tagging along with him while he runs a few errands, do you? He’ll be going all around the city, I’m sure. Oh, and it sounded like some of the guys might be doing a movie later, too.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jungwoo smiled down at you. “For everything.”

You smiled and lightly elbowed him again. “Like I said, I want you to have good memories of Earth.”

A few more days passed by like that, with you finding various friends to leave Jungwoo with during the day while you went to your dreadfully boring job, then the two of you would eat dinner together before heading off to the beach to work on his spaceship until late. Tonight in particular, you didn’t have much to help with, as he was able to prop up a spare flashlight you’d gotten from the hardware store for illumination as he worked.

“When do you think we’ll be done tonight?” You asked, spinning the cockpit seat around as you unfocused your eyes, letting the colorful lights become hazy blurs and streaks in your vision.

“Soon,” he answered shortly as he usually did when he was focused. “Do you have something you need to do?”

“The guys are going out.” You read the texts on your phone as they streamed in. “They invited me and you, by the way.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, Jaehyun just got promoted to assistant professor, so we’re celebrating.” You stopped your spinning to watch him work again, but found that he had stalled his ministrations. “It’ll be at least two or three nightclubs; if you’re not up for that, that’s fine.”

“They invited me?” He repeated, brow furrowed as he had clearly not been expecting that.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat the back of his head fondly. “Yeah, Jungwoo, they like you. It’s also definitely a bit of novelty, you know—‘Hey let’s see if we can get the alien shitfaced’—but I won’t let them mess with you.”

“Yes, I’d like to go with you.” He smiled, looking back down at the contraption in his hands. “It won’t be much longer.”

Knocking on the front door of a very familiar apartment, you bounced on your toes as you waited for one of the occupants to answer. It was Johnny who opened the door, eyes lingering on Jungwoo behind you before he went to give you a hug. “Hey, kid. How are you?”

“Good, good. How are you, John?” You patted his back them dropped back down onto flat feet.

“Same old, you know?” He grinned and shrugged, then finally addressed Jungwoo. “Hey, man. How’s your side?”

“Fine, good. Thank you,” Jungwoo answered hastily, offering a polite nod.

“Jae!” You called into the apartment, latching onto Jungwoo’s wrist and dragging him over to Jaehyun’s closed bedroom door. You banged on the door. “Jaehyun! Come on, it’s me, your favorite!”

The door opened a second later, Jaehyun looking at you stone-faced as he buttoned up his shirt. “You claim you’re everyone’s favorite.”

“I am! Aren’t I?” You grinned.

“Can’t a guy get dressed in his own apartment in peace? Bother Johnny.” He was about to close the door in your face when you stuck your foot in the way.

“Can Jungwoo borrow some clothes?” You requested sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Jaehyun looked the alien up and down skeptically. “He’s already wearing my clothes.”

“He can’t go to the club in a sweatshirt and jeans!”

Your friend sighed and opened the door wider, jerking his head in a gesture for you two to come in.

“Thank you!” You squealed, pulling Jungwoo in with you.

Jaehyun sat on his bed as you started rifling through his closet for something for Jungwoo to wear. Pulling a couple shirts down first, you held them up to the spaceman, humming to yourself as you compared how they looked on them. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, putting one back and looking for another. With two new shirts, you held them up again, nodding in satisfaction. “Yeah, I like that a lot better.”

“He’s not a doll, Y/N,” Jaehyun snorted. “Go ahead, Jungwoo, you can tell her not to play dress-up with you.”

Jungwoo rubbed the back of his neck, the iridophores on his cheeks flashing as he shifted awkwardly in place. “I don’t mind it, really…”

“And that’s how I ended up as the first and only victim of Y/N’s Barber Shop when I was eight.” Johnny had joined the three of you, leaning in the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You say that like your hair didn’t grow back,” you scoffed. “I didn’t take your ear off or anything.”

“Just my dignity.”

“And who gave me the scissors?”

Johnny held his hands up in surrender, making his roommate laugh.

“Johnny’s always been a pushover when it comes to Y/N,” Jaehyun explained to Jungwoo, still chuckling. “Ever since they were kids.”

“Alright guys, listen up!” You called for their focus loudly. “This is going to be one of the most important questions I ask you in our entire lives.”

Johnny and Jaehyun gave you two very similar amused but attentive looks, while Jungwoo beheld you with absolutely rapt attention.

You held up the two shirts that you had narrowed your selection to for Jungwoo. “White lace or black silk?”

“He’s not wearing those jeans, is he?” Johnny cocked his head.

“God no,” you shook your head. “Or the sneakers. I’m thinking simple black pants and boots. His necklace will go good with both, right?” You pointed to the gold transcoder that rested below his collarbones.

“White.” Jaehyun pointed.

“Black.” Johnny shrugged.

“Helpful.” You glared at them. Turning to Jungwoo, you held up the tops. “What do you think? Do you even like them at all? These are just my favorites, you can pick something else if you want.”

“I like them,” Jungwoo reassured you, fingertips gently running over the front of one shirt, then the other. “Which is your favorite?”

“I think the black silk?” You appraised it again. “Yeah, I like the neckline, and I think the material will move really nice for a night out, you know?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

You handed him that hanger and put the other back in the closet where you found it. Looking at the owner of the room, you prompted, “Jae, you’ll get him the right pants and stuff, right?”

“Sure,” he nodded and stood up, teasing glint in his eye. “It’s not like we’re meant to be celebrating my accomplishments tonight or anything. I’m just a butler, really.”

“Great, thanks!” You grinned back, traipsing out of the room with Johnny.

A few minutes later, Jaehyun joined the two of you in the living room, sitting down on the couch and pulling his shoes on. “So, anything new, Y/N?” He asked innocently.

“You mean, other than the alien living in my apartment?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “Not really, work’s the same.”

“You’re still at that shit place?” Johnny didn’t hide his distaste of your workplace.

“Yup.” You replied flatly.

“I thought you said you were looking for new jobs.”

“One, you said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Two, I am, the job market sucks right now, John.”

“Have you even interviewed anywhere? Submitted your résumé?”

“God, not this again…” Jaehyun groaned from his spot between you two on the couch.

“Not everybody can inherit a veterinary practice once their mentor retires and have their life made,” you snapped, turning to glare at Johnny pointedly.

“My life’s made? I’m still paying off my student loans, you know that, right?” He scoffed. “Not to mention how much free morphine I’ve been giving your buddy in there just the past few days.”

“I told you I’ll pay you back once he’s better, you said not to worry about it, and now you’re holding it over my head!” You said in disbelief. “God, this is just like you!”

“‘Just like me?’”

“Yes, you always nag me about shit like you think I can’t do anything, and insist on handling things for me instead of letting me do it, then just turn right around to use that as further proof that I can’t do anything on my own!” You were about to launch to your feet when Jaehyun caught your arm and urged you back into your seat.

“Woah, woah,” Jaehyun looked back and forth between you two. “Time out. You’re both right and you’re both wrong. Johnny, we get that you’re coming from a good place, but obviously Y/N feels patronized with the way you treat her. Y/N, Johnny has a lot going on too that you’re ignoring on purpose to make him seem like the bad guy, which also isn’t fair.”

Johnny pushed some of his hair out of his face as he stared ahead at the TV across the room, obviously refusing to meet your eyes now. You crossed your arms over your chest and flopped back against the cushions, not looking at either of them. You’ve never been great at apologizing first.

“You two aren’t making up before we go out, are you?” Jaehyun rubbed his face.

“No.” “Nope.”

Jaehyun’s bedroom door opened then, Jungwoo hesitantly stepping out, still fussing with the shirt. When he looked up, the searching look fell from his face as he obviously could sense the tension in the room, turning cautious instead.

“Is everything alright?” While his question was general, his eyes were focused on you when he asked.

“Yeah, Jungwoo!” You forced a cheery smile again, jumping to your feet as you appraised his outfit. “I love being right. It looks so handsome on you!”

“Ah, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck again as you walked around him, brushing off a spare piece of fluff from his back. “Thank you.”

“What do you guys think?” You asked the other two proudly, looping your arm with Jungwoo’s.

“Yeah, he looks—”

“Fine. Can we go now?” Johnny cut his roommate off, grabbing his keys and walking over to the door.

“Rude,” you muttered under your breath, but followed the other two with a roll of your eyes nevertheless.

“Congrats!” Everybody cheered in unison, clinking their glasses together.

“Thanks, guys,” Jaehyun beamed at you all, bringing his drink to his lips.

“So are you like tenure track now, or what?” Doyoung prompted him eagerly.

“Yes, I am,” he announced proudly. “I’m no longer instructional, I’m academic.”

All your friends let out a chorus of jesting but supportive ‘ooh’s at that, and you squeezed his arm from beside him. “Look at you, a real academic now. Knew that big head was good for something.”

“You little—” He went to tousle your hair. You let out an ‘eep!’ and jerked away from his hand, back into Jungwoo on your other side.

“Sorry!” You laughed through your apology to the alien, patting his arm as he hadn’t been knocked very far back at least. “You alright, Jungwoo?”

“Yes, I’m okay,” he reassured you with a fond smile.

“Now, are you absolutely sure you can have that?” You pointed to the drink that you had helped him order. After realizing that for some reason he immediately knew what morphine was, but his transcoder was failing on what alcohol was, you’d explained the drink—with some assistance from your friends and Google—to him to make sure it wasn’t going to kill him, but you noticed that he hadn’t yet actually taken a sip yet.

“Yes, yes.” He lifted the glass again.

“If morphine doesn’t get you high, I wonder if alcohol is even going to do anything to do you,” Johnny mused, slowly nursing his liquor.

“Take it slow, drink water, and even though we ate before we came, keep eating while we’re here, okay?” You told Jungwoo, shooting Johnny a glare over the spaceman’s shoulder.

He nodded, and with that, you grabbed your own drink, clinked it to his one more time, and drained half of it in one go. You watched his face carefully, both for any sign that he was in imminent danger, and in the vent that he was fine, if he liked the drink you’d picked. You’d chosen a cocktail on the sweeter side for him, a fruity, bubbly, unnaturally bright colored one that a couple of the guys had snickered at, which he either didn’t notice or didn’t care about. Jungwoo didn’t immediately go into anaphylactic shock, which you pocketed as a win. Just like when he tried Nutella for the first time, his eyes widened with delight before he went back in for more.

You couldn’t help but laugh and pat his head fondly. “Pace yourself,” you reminded him.

He set it down and smiled sheepishly. “Right. Thanks.”

Hyuck and Yuta had disappeared at some point, as they were now returning to your table with a round of shots for everybody. You shook your head, but picked yours up and knocked it back with everyone else. Jungwoo watched you, taking your lead. While the rest of you had various hisses and negative reactions to the tequila you were now realizing they had gotten you, Jungwoo seemed unaffected by the burn as he calmly set the shot glass down.

“Ugh, did you guys get motor oil or something?” Johnny pushed his glass away from him with distaste.

“Cheapest shit they had,” Yuta informed him smugly. “Afraid real motor oil tastes better than that.”

“I’m going to get us some waters,” you told Jungwoo before slipping off into the crowd.

You watched the bartender quickly fill up your two glasses with ice, then water. Right as he had pushed them over to you, you became aware of someone sidling up to you at the bar and grabbing your hip. You whipped around and jerked away to put distance between yourself and the newcomer, a complete stranger to you.

He chuckled at how he had startled you, stepping closer to you once again. “Woah, sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine,” you replied flatly, reaching for your waters to turn to leave.

“Hey, I did want to talk to you.”

“No thanks.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t want to.” You didn’t like that he had started shifting in front of you, putting himself between you and the rest of the club, blocking you against the bar.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice called your name as a taller figure pushed past the stranger, securing your arm in his hand. Johnny fixed the man with a hard stare before looking at you again, “There you are. Come on, we’re toasting Jaehyun again.”

“Right,” you smiled up at your friend, letting him half-pull you away from the bar. The other man didn’t say a word, letting you go as he disappeared into the crowd as well.

Halfway back to your table, you reluctantly mumbled a sharp ‘thanks’ to Johnny’s back. He must’ve heard you somehow over the thumping music, as he looked back over his shoulder at you, his eyes softening for just a moment as he nodded once, before continuing to clear a path for the two of you back to your other friends.

You wormed your way back into your spot between Jungwoo and Jaehyun, pushing Jungwoo’s glass against his arm. “Here.”

“Thank you.” His eyes didn’t leave you, seemingly scanning you over with worry. “Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, fine.” You shook your head to clear away the memory.

“I’m sorry, I realized that man was making you uncomfortable, but I wasn't sure what to do. Johnny told me to stay here while he went over.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Jungwoo.” You assured him. “We can't have you getting punched defending me and bleed blue all over the place. Thanks for keeping an eye on me and telling Johnny, though.”

“But—”

“Hey, you know what?” You flashed him a smile, already starting to feel warm and airy from the alcohol. “I want to dance. How about you come with? Creepy guys should stay away if I’m already with someone.”

“Sure,” he nodded for you to lead the way.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the table and into the outer edge of the dance floor. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you tilted your head, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, should I…?”

You took his hands that were uncertainly hovering in the air and put them on your hips before returning your own to his shoulders. “There. Also, sorry.”

“For what?”

As soon as his question was out of his mouth, you inadvertently stepped on his foot, a sheepish smile flashing across your face. “I’m not a very good dancer,” you admitted. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “That’s okay.”

“Hey, you’re pretty good,” you laughed as he kept up with the rhythm and also kept you from being a general hazard.

“Thank you.”

“Do you have places like this where you’re from?” You were careful not to say anything out of the ordinary to hint that ‘where he was from’ was actually outer space.

“Residents from elsewhere have brought similar nightclubs to our larger cities,” he informed you. “I’ve visited a few.”

“You a party boy?” You grinned.

“I’m not sure about that,” he was smiling as well. “But I’m enjoying myself with you, Y/N. Thank you.”

“I’m having fun too, Jungwoo,” you replied sincerely. Your toe caught on his shoe then, and you squeaked as you stumbled forward towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to catch yourself from completely face-planting into his collarbone. His hands on your waist steadied you, and you smiled up at him sheepishly. “Sorry. Thanks.”

“You’re not usually this clumsy.”

“I’m a bit tipsy,” you whispered loudly. “Alcohol and motor function… not good.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Can I stay right here?” You requested sweetly, watching his patches of iridescent freckles flash and sparkle in the lights that pulsed across the dance floor. “You’re surprisingly sturdy, and your irido-irido—you know—are so pretty…”

“Of course,” Jungwoo readjusted to hold you more securely. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No.” You shook your head, starting to sway in his arms to the music. “I like this song.”

A warm puff of air washed over your ear as he chuckled. “I like it too.”

Sometime later in the night, you were sat in a booth at a different nightclub, slowly draining a water that Doyoung had pushed in front of you. Your other friends were somewhere in the club, only Jungwoo next to you. His cheeks were a little pink, but that could easily be from the body heat, as you were pretty sure you hadn’t seen him drink anything but water since your first stop of the night.

“Hey, Jungwoo?” You looked over at him with your cheek in your palm, supported by your elbow on the table.

“Yes?” He met your gaze without hesitation.

“Do—” You were cut off by a hiccup. “Do you think you’ll remember me? After you leave, once it’s been a while?”

“What?” He blinked at you, face turning oddly stern as he placed his hand over yours on the table. “Yes, Y/N. I don’t think I could ever forget you.”

“Oh. Do Galarii have photographic memory or something?”

“No.”

“But…” Another hiccup. “Don’t you go to all these places and meet so many people and do all sorts of stuff all the time? Like, of course I’m gonna remember the one alien I ever met, but why would you—”

Jungwoo turned to hold your hand with both of his. “Do you really think that you’re so insignificant? Or that I’m so… indifferent?”

“No, Jungwoo, I just—” You took your hand back to brush your fingertips over his iridophores under one eye. “I guess it’s kinda like how you don’t think these are anything special.”

“Y/N, if you remember only one thing from meeting me, please…” He shifted forward slightly, nothing but sincerity on his features. “No matter where I’ve gone, I’ve never met anyone who wasn’t special. Including you.”

You felt your bottom lip quiver, and regretted that last shot you let Yuta and Donghyuck talk you into. As soon as you blinked, the tears fell, rolling quickly down your cheeks. You buried your face in Jungwoo’s shoulder, grabbing a fistful of the silk material of his shirt.

“I’m… sorry?” He said quietly, gingerly patting your back.

“She crying?” Johnny’s voice came from behind you.

“Yes, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine, she’s an emotional drunk after she’s partied herself out,” Johnny reassured the alien. A gentle hand landed on your head. “Hey, Y/N, time to go home.”

“That’s my shirt!” Jaehyun said indignantly, having also returned to your booth.

“I’ll clean it before I return it,” Jungwoo promised.

“Y/N,” Johnny called for you again in a sing-songy tone. “Come on, let’s go home.”

You lifted your head enough to sloppily wipe at your face, Jungwoo helping to push some hair back. Squinting at Johnny, you asked, “You’re taking me home?”

“Yeah, I’m taking you home,” he confirmed.

“But I thought you were mad at me?”

“I’m never that mad, kid, promise.”

“Do you need help, Johnny?” Jaehyun offered, then looked at Jungwoo. “Or are you going now too?”

“I’m going back with her,” Jungwoo immediately replied.

Johnny helped you scoot out of the booth, and on uneasy feet, you threw your arms around Jaehyun to give him one final congrats. Johnny took you back from your professor friend to half-guide, half-carry you out of the nightclub, Jungwoo following behind. Out front, Johnny cursed under his breath as he looked around.

“Jungwoo.” He waved the alien over. “Stay with her while I bring the car around, will you?”

“Of course.” Jungwoo immediately took your arm from Johnny’s grasp, steadying you as you swayed in place. Johnny gave the two of you one last uncertain look before taking off around the corner. You stepped closer to Jungwoo, leaning your weight against him as you let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry about him…” You said. “He should be nicer to you.”

“It’s okay,” Jungwoo responded, shifting to support you with an arm around your waist as your knees buckled for a moment. “He’s concerned for you, which I’m glad for.”

“I wish he’d stop treating me like a kid, though,” you huffed. “He literally calls me ‘kid.’”

“Is this why you were so curious that I didn’t know if my brother was older or younger?”

“Does he treat you like a grown-up?”

“He had some concerns with my career path at first,” he informed you, some amusement in his tone. “But I also worry for his safety.”

“I worry about Johnny,” you insisted. “I just… don’t make him feel stupid for it when I do.”

Johnny’s car stopped in front of you two then, and Jungwoo helped you into the backseat. He gently brushed your hands away so he could do your seatbelt for you—which took a few attempts, admittedly—and let you rest your head on his shoulder for the entire ride back to your apartment.

After a lot of insisting, you finally got Johnny to leave your home. You were tucked into bed in your pajamas with a glass of water, and heard Jungwoo eventually close the front door behind Johnny.

“Jungwoo!” You called for the alien loudly, not really caring about the time or your neighbors.

“Yes?” His head immediately poked into your room, eyes focused on you attentively.

“C’mere.” You patted the empty space next to you. He walked over to sit down, but as soon as he had, you shooed him away, “Wait, no! You should get into your pajamas too.”

“Alright. One moment.” He nodded and smiled softly. A few minutes later, Jungwoo emerged from the bathroom no longer in Jaehyun’s nice clothes but in Jaehyun’s sweatpants and t-shirt. He sat down cross-legged on top of the covers. “Better?”

“I’m tired,” you rolled over onto your side towards him.

“I’ll let you rest, then.” He moved to get off the bed, but you grabbed his arm and stopped him.

“Wait.” You yawned. “Can you stay for a bit?”

“As long as you wish.” He acquiesced easily.

“Can you…” Another yawn. “Can you tell me some more about Galaria?”

He shifted the arm that you had grasped to hold your hand instead. “Sure. If you’ll close your eyes.”

“You’re trying to make me go to sleep.”

“Hmm, maybe,” he hummed.

You snickered, but let your eyelids flutter shut anyway. “Hey, Jungwoo?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really gonna miss you once you go.” You squeezed his hand as you shifted around to get comfortable under your covers.

There was a stretch of silence so long that you were almost tempted to open your eyes again, but before you could, he squeezed your hand back and spoke again, voice sounding slightly strained, “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. A lot.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “So, Galaria…”

In the morning, you groaned before you even had a single human thought. You instinctually rolled away from your window, where the faintest halo of light was coming in from around your curtains, burying your face into your pillow. And then your stomach lurched. Heaving yourself to your feet with some speed, you hurried into your bathroom, not even bothering with the light before kneeling at the toilet. Thankfully, nothing came back up, and after a few minutes, you got back to steady-ish feet. Looking back at your dim bedroom, you saw it devoid of anybody else, which you were mildly surprised about. You faintly remembered going to sleep with Jungwoo sitting next to you. He had no clue about human customs, for all you knew, Galarii wouldn’t have thought it strange to share a bed. You knocked back something for your stomach and the pounding in your head before treading out towards the living room. You were going to feel a little uneasy until you put eyes on your alien houseguest.

He was sitting upright on the couch, and stood up as soon as he saw you walking out, a relieved smile on his features. “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling? Johnny said I should make you breakfast—”

“That’s alright, Jungwoo, I’m not very hungry right now,” you admitted. “Maybe later. How are you? Anything from the alcohol?”

“I’m fine.” He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Honestly, I’m not feeling well, Jungwoo.” You touched your forehead, giving him an apologetic smile. “I think I’m going to lay down for a bit. Will you be good out here?”

He looked at you anxiously. “What’s wrong?”

“Just a headache. I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Do you need anything before I—”

“Can I go with you?”

“…Into my room? That’s right down the hall? While I nap off a hangover?” You arched an eyebrow, pointing at your bedroom next to the living room.

He nodded.

“What? Did you imprint on me like a baby duck or something?” You joked, stretching and yawning.

“I don’t know what ducks are nor the imprinting habits of their young, but yes.”

“You don’t really need to know what ducks are, but baby ducks—Wait, what?!” Your brain finally processed the rest of his words, and you stared at him wide-eyed.

“I’m not sure if the term is used the same, but I imagine it’s a similar concept.”

“You think I’m your mom?!”

It was his turn to look at you with bewilderment. “No, of course not.”

You put a hand over your chest, relieved. “Okay, God, I had a heart attack.”

“You’re my mate,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me?!” And your blood pressure was back through the roof.

“Lover? I’m not sure the term…” Jungwoo scratched the back of his neck.

You held your hands out defensively, trying to calm yourself down more than anyone else. “Jungwoo, look, we just met like a few days ago.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“That’s not nearly enough time to say we’re soulmates or anything.”

His face lit up. “Ahh, soulmates? Is that the word?”

“No!” You immediately shot that down. “Don’t start calling me that.”

“Y/N—”

“What even is this imprinting? Like how do you know it’s happened? Do you do it on purpose? Because if you did, you’ve got to ask people’s permission before doing that kind of thing, dude.”

“It’s not something we have control over. So no, I did not do it intentionally.”

“Oh. Okay.” That only calmed you down marginally.

“It’s…” Jungwoo sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he tried to figure out his words. “I didn’t realize it at first. When you dragged me out of my ship and I first saw you, everything was different. I thought it was the new atmosphere, new gravity, that my body was just adjusting.”

“What do you mean, ‘different’? Different how?”

“Colors are brighter around you—”

“That’s just some cheesy pickup line. It was pitch black when I found you.”

“No, really. Our species’ senses are sharpened around our—”

“Don’t.”

“—when we’ve imprinted, around whoever we’ve imprinted on. To better protect them,” he explained cautiously. “Again, I thought I was just getting used to your planet, but I always know where you are—”

“I tell you where I’m going when I leave.”

“I don’t mean like that. It’s stronger the closer you are, but I just always have this feeling, of where you are. I know you left work yesterday afternoon to go down the street, then went back.”

“I went to the convenience store on my lunch break,” you confirmed with a huff. “Assuming you’re telling the truth and aren’t actively stalking me, I’m guessing that would be another… mechanism to protect that person? That you’re… you know.”

“Yes.”

“What’s even the point of imprinting on me? Or anybody that’s not another Galarii?” You crossed your arms. “My eyes work just fine when you’re not around, and the only way I’d know exactly where you were if I couldn’t see you would be chipping you like a dog.”

“I don’t know.”

You shook your head. “So… you all are just, what? Celibate? Until you eventually find someone to imprint on?”

“Casual relationships aren’t unusual, though many don’t see a point in having such a relationship before imprinting.” He immediately became even more serious. “I’m not inexperienced sexually, if that’s a concern.”

“Oh, God, no!” You covered your face with two hands and groaned. “I was just wondering like… How do you know this imprinting thing is for real? Like, you’re actually ending up with someone good for you, if you don’t have any sort of reference to draw from on what sort of person you like, what you want and don’t want in a relationship?”

“We don’t have to know before, because we’re not picking our… lifelong companion, like I understand you humans do.”

You blinked at him. “Marriage. You’re talking about marriage.”

“Yes. You have to have this set of parameters before you prepare for… marriage. We’re not choosing, so we don’t need such standards. We find.”

“Yeah, but why me? What is it about me that activated your imprinting or whatever the hell?” You couldn’t help the shiver that went up your spine when you said it. “Shouldn’t that be something that only other members of your species can do? Like, evolution-wise?”

“That’s something that my species is still investigating.”

“God, okay…” You rubbed your temples. “Well, my head fucking hurts. I’m going to lay down—alone.”

“Of course.” Jungwoo nodded and stepped back, sitting down on the far side of the couch from you.

Your bed smelled like Jungwoo. You couldn’t nap like this, or even rest your eyes. But you didn’t want to go back out there yet, needing time to let your brain turn over what you’d just been told. So you laid in your bed that smelled like Jungwoo and scrolled on your phone, absentmindedly chewing on the skin around your thumbnail.

⇢ part two

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