#i don’t think he’s cool enough to be sriracha | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luci-in-trenchcoats · 4 years ago

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If I Fell For You (Part 3) - A Moment

Summary: Jensen is away from home for a few days but isn’t having the easiest time being away from the kids for the first time since the accident. When he returns home, he has a gala to attend on Saturday night but a kiss on the cheek and slip of the tongue will snowball into the reader and Jensen sharing a moment...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 6,100ish

Warnings: language, death of a spouse, death of a parent, anxiety, self-worth problems, referenced past harassment

A/N: I love this part so much for so many reasons. Please enjoy!

________

“Hi Jensen,” you asked Monday night when your phone rang. “How was your flight earlier?”

“Same old same old. I just got out of work,” he said with a yawn. “Gonna grab a bite out with a friend. Kids eat dinner okay?”

“We had honey sriracha glazed salmon with brussel sprouts and roasted red potatoes.”

“Really?”

“They had kraft mac and cheese and I had Taco Bell.”

“See this is why I like you,” he chuckled.

“I’ll try the salmon again tomorrow. I was gonna make it but they didn’t have any at the store,” you said, opening the fridge and taking out a pint of ice cream. “Hey can I have what’s left of this mint ice cream?”

“Sure. Pick some more up for me sometime before friday please,” he said. “Also, Taco Bell? You do realize we live in freaking Austin right. There are literally hundreds of places you can go that have better mexican food.”

“Yeah but fake cheese tastes good,” you said. He laughed and your stomach rumbled. “I so should have gotten more than two tacos.”

“You in the kitchen?” he asked. You hummed and you heard him let out an oof in the background.

“Yeah. You alright?”

“This bed in my hotel room is comfy,” he said. “But I was starting to say, go in the drawer at the end of the counter by the table. There’s only five hundred gajillion take out menus in there. Order a treat for yourself. It’s on me.”

“Jensen. I can get my own dinner.”

“True but you’re on call 24/7 until I get back.”

“Well in that case I bet you got a menu for a fancy steakhouse in here somewhere,” you teased as you picked up one for a tex mex looking restaurant. “Does this place really have quesadillas this big?”

“You must be looking at the menu on top. I almost ordered from there last week actually. The food’s great. They do delivery too. Just buzz the guy into the gate when they get there.”

“Any recommendations?” you asked, taking out the menu and flipping it over.

“Quesadillas are good. Loaded nachos are amazing. I’ve literally never had a bad thing from there,” he said. “To be honest I’d rather be getting that than where I’m going tonight.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, reading through your options, surprised to find such good prices.

“I have to wear a suit,” he said with a sigh. “After being poked and prodded all day I literally would rather just eat crap and watch food network.”

“How long have you known this friend of yours?” you asked.

“Twenty years, why?”

“Then you guys knew each other when you were young. It’s not too late out there. Call him, see if he’d rather get some crap food, a six pack and just catch up on his couch or in your room. I’m pretty sure he’s more looking forward to seeing an old friend again than the food,” you said.

“You make very good points. I should pay you more,” he said.

“You pay me plenty and barely let me spend a dime of my money on myself,” you said. “I don’t need more.”

“You got that fancy computer though.”

“You literally have the exact same mac in your office.”

“You moved in like three boxes and two computers,” he said.

“An ipad is not a computer,” you said.

“Debatable.”

“Well I like to draw sometimes and it’s easier on an ipad when you’re laying in bed,” you said.

“Are you any good?” he asked.

“No.”

“I bet they’re really good,” he said as you rolled your eyes. “I see you draw with the kids sometimes and those are good.”

“It’s a hobby is all,” you said, leaning back against the counter, your stomach grumbling again. “Anything else you want me to grab at the store? I’m going to hit it tomorrow while everyone’s at school.”

“Nah. Get the usual stuff,” he said. “The kiddos in bed?”

“Yeah, got the last one down about fifteen minutes ago,” you said. He hummed and you heard the sigh in it. “I got a video of them playing earlier I’ll send you.”

“Thanks. It’s my first night away from them in a long time. Normally I’m able to come back same day. I was kinda hoping they’d still be awake to say goodnight.”

“They’re safe and sound dad. We’ll call again after school tomorrow to talk like today,” you said.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. He was quiet and you pulled the phone away, taking a deep breath.

“You okay?”

“I haven’t been alone like this in a really long time.”

“I know. You check out your backpack yet?”

“No. Why?”

“You didn’t bring a jacket with you so I put that yellow hoodie that’s always on the hook in there in case you got cold.”

“That was Dee’s hoodie.”

“I was pretty sure it was,” you said. You heard him shuffle around briefly before he hummed, much happier that time. “I thought you might like to have a piece of...something-”

“I really don’t pay you enough,” he said quietly. “Thanks for putting this in there. I need something from home more than I realized.”

“Well put it on, call up your buddy and have some fun tonight, Ackles. Nanny’s orders.” He laughed and you felt that twinge in your stomach again, your eyes quickly closing.

“I will. Hey you mind if I call again tomorrow night? I don’t have any plans and sitting in a hotel room by myself isn’t very fun.” You smiled and felt heat in your cheeks, quickly thinking it away. He wanted company for a few minutes was all and you were friends. It was completely normal to talk with friends on the phone everyday.

“Of course. As long as you get a dinner in at some point that’s more than fine with me,” you said. “We can talk about The Bachelor!”

“Oh God no,” he groaned, chuckling after a few seconds. “I’ll settle for Grey’s Anatomy.”

“This Is Us?” you asked.

“Supernatural?”

“I haven’t watched that yet. I’m working up to it,” you said.

“Work faster woman. I only know legit everything about that one,” he chuckled. “But probably not a good idea to watch that one until I get back and you're not alone. First episode is kinda scary.”

“Oh well thanks for that,” you said, watching the clock tick by, knowing it had to be almost seven out there. “I’ll let you go. Have fun tonight Jensen.”

“I will Y/N. Promise.”

Friday Night

“Arrow,” you said after she’d flung her pasta bowl all over herself, covering her hair and face. She sniffled and you forced a smile. “Okay. How about a bath after dinner?”

Fifteen minutes later JJ and Zeppelin were in the movie room watching a cartoon while you had Arrow in the kids bathroom, scooping up some water over her head in the tub.

“Well hello ladies,” you heard behind you. You jumped and spun around, glaring for a moment before you recognized Jensen.

“Just me,” he said, backpack still on his shoulders.

“Daddy I got ziti all over my head,” she said.

“You did?” he asked, dropping his bag and taking off his jacket, kneeling down next to you. You got the last bit of sauce off and squirted some shampoo in her hair, Jensen watching you with a smile. “How was your day?”

She told him all about breakfast and daycare, playing with a few toy boats with him while you rinsed out the soap. You did a bit of conditioner before getting it out as well and putting the spray nozzle back.

“I got the rest if you wanna get the dryer ready?” he asked you, reaching for the soap. You swapped spots with him, Jensen washing her up while she kept talking about her day. By the time he was all done you had the dryer out and plugged in, Jensen picking her up and wrapping her up in a big bundle of towels before he set her on the counter. You went to work drying her hair, Jensen draining the tub and finding some pajamas for her.

“Do you want your hair up or down, sweetie?” you asked. She tried gathering it up and you grabbed her soft scrunchie perfectly fine for sleeping in from the counter. You put her hair up in a soft little bun, Jensen making an adorable sound when he returned.

“Aw, you look so cute, baby. I’ll be right there alright?” he said. She hopped off the counter and got dressed, rushing off downstairs when she was all done. “Survive the day?”

“Somehow we always do,” you said, gathering up the towels. “Kids are in the movie room.”

“Thanks. I’m gonna shower but we’re all good for the night,” he said. “Thanks for watching them this week.”

“You gotta go do your job,” you said. “You working on a movie or something? You never said.”

“Uh gonna be in a show called The Boys,” he said. “I’m gonna be one of the superheroes so I gotta go out and get my suit made all special for me every so often.”

“You’re gonna be a supe! That’s so fucking cool!” you said. He grinned and you blushed, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so not appropriate.”

“I don’t see any little ears around,” he chuckled. “You like the show then?”

“Yeah. It’s great. Like no other show consistently makes me go what the fuck did I just see. That’s so cool you get to be a supe though. Are you a one off or like a main character?”

“I’ll be very present in the next season. Gonna deal with the seven, all that,” he said. “I’m gonna be Solider Boy.”

“I can see that. You have that all American boy thing about you.”

“It’s my adorable face,” he teased.

“Well remember to not stay up too late. You have the gala tomorrow night remember?”

“Yes mom,” he said as you walked out. “Get the kids some takeout for dinner tomorrow and yourself.”

“Sounds good boss,” you said. “Night Jensen.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Next Night

You froze from where you were mixing up some brownie batter with JJ at the kitchen counter as Jensen popped downstairs. He was in a gorgeous black suit, a maroon pocket square and no tie going on, his hair scruffier looking than normal.

He started to laugh and you realized you were staring, your cheeks feeling hot as you went back to stirring.

“Mmm, you guys save me a brownie or two for when I get home?” he asked, leaning over and dipping his finger in the bowl of cream cheese frosting.

“We’ll spare one for dad,” you said, Jensen going back for seconds. “Ah, ah. No.”

He dipped his finger in and got another fingerful, kissing the top of JJ’s head and the twins at the counter.

“Be good for Y/N guys!” he called as he rushed out.

You whistled and he jogged back, catching you holding up his phone from the counter.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and pecking a kiss on your cheek. You looked up at him and he froze. “I am so sorry. I…”

“It’s okay. Go have fun and be all charitable,” you said. He shoved his phone in his pocket and ran out, JJ scratching her head.

“Dad’s kinda weird sometimes,” she said.

“Yeah, he is. But so is everybody,” you said. “Let’s get this in the oven so you guys can pick out colors for your frosting, hm?”

“I really shouldn’t. But I really should,” you said to yourself, plopping your second brownie of the night in a bowl and sticking a scoop of ice cream on top. You carried it over to the couch and lay back, watching TV on the big screen as you heard the door open. Jensen came into view a minute later, taking his jacket off and groaning as he washed up at the sink. He went to the tray of brownies on the counter and picked one up with a big sigh. “Fun night?”

He jumped and whacked his head against the cabinet above, hissing before he spun around.

“You okay?” you asked. He nodded and left the brownie behind, pushing his sleeves up before taking a seat on the other end of the lounger.

“Y/N I’m really sorry about the kiss on the cheek. That was so inappropriate. You’ve kinda implied that there was some stuff that’s happened to you at other jobs you found over the line and I’m really truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I wasn’t...I forgot you’re my employee for a moment. I really am sorry.”

“Jensen if I had a problem with it or you or your behavior I would quit on the spot. I don’t let myself get pushed around anymore. You were happy and busy and you pecked a kiss on my cheek, not reach a hand down my pants. It’s really okay. You’re way too hard on yourself.”

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive. It’s barely ten which means you left as soon as you could. You’re supposed to be out having fun,” you said.

“I was kinda freaking out that you hated me,” he said.

“Dude you gotta relax,” you said. “Have a brownie and some ice cream.”

He got up and after a minute took a seat at the other end with a bowl of his own, smiling as he got a taste.

“This is fucking awesome,” he said.

“I know,” you said, Jensen smirking. “Do you feel better now silly boy? I promise that if you ever do anything I find inappropriate I will promptly kick you in the balls.”

“I can agree to that,” he said. He ate for a moment, watching the TV and laying back. “Do you ever like, want to go do things with your friends on a Saturday night? If you do that’s totally cool. These aren’t normal hours anyways.”

“Being a nanny eats up a lot of your social life,” you said. “Kinda got kicked out of my friend group after I broke up with my ex anyways.”

“Well they sound like they suck,” he said.

“Yes, they do,” you said. “I don’t mind so much. I meet plenty of new people through work. Only person you can depend on is yourself and I don’t tend to let myself down.”

“That’s a very lonely way to go through life,” he said.

“It’s not easy to make friends in your thirties,” you said. “Maybe for someone like you who travels and meets new people a lot and stuff but you have like, real friendships. You know?”

“Well we have a real friendship, don’t we? You’re friends with Jared and Rob and Ruthie and Rich,” he said. “I don’t trust just anybody with my kids. That’s real.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a bite. “So when’s your friend free?”

“Hm?”

“Blind date guy. Maybe he could be a friend if things work out,” you said.

“Oh yeah. He uh, he actually got a gig up in Canada so you might need to wait like a month or so. But he’s excited to meet you,” said Jensen.

“Can I have his number?” you asked. “Or do you think that’d be weird?”

“No, not weird. I think he just kinda wants to do it old school if that’s okay. Meet you first and go from there.”

“This friend of yours better be like super hot,” you said.

“If it’s a problem-“

“I can respect him wanting to do things like that. But I’m gonna want a firm date soon,” you said.

“I’ll make sure to get you one,” he said. “I’ll get it down tomorrow, promise.”

“He better not mind me eating like this either. I ain’t a salad on the first date kinda girl. He’s gonna need to keep up with my eating while were at it,” you said. He snorted in his seat beside you and ran his hand over his face.

“I will keep that in mind. I have occasionally had dessert first truth be told,” he said.

“This is why I like you Ackles. You get my sweet tooth,” you laughed.

“It’s a good thing your dinners are healthy cause I swear I haven’t consumed this many baked goods in months,” he said. “The kids love it and my stomach loves it though.”

“I’m gonna need to start working out though if I keep this up. Oh hey is it okay if I do laps in the pool in the mornings? I’ll be super quiet and stuff.”

“You don’t gotta ask,” he smiled. “Like I said when you started, you got free reign to use the pool, the gym, whatever, aside from my room. You a swimmer?”

“Not really but I hate running and supposedly it’s a good workout or something,” you shrugged, eating another bite of brownie.

“Anything in the gym you’re free to use. I know you must get a little bored sometimes when I’m gone and the kids are,” he said.

“Not bored per say. Ordinarily I would do more chores but you have like a cleaner and a landscaper and you just...give me more time in the day than I’m used to is all. It’s actually great though. It gives me plenty of time to come up with ideas for the kids and stuff.”

“Well as long as you’re taking breaks and your lunch do as you please,” he said, his spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl.

“Now that’s just sad.”

“I really should get another one of these,” he said, sucking the spoon.

“It’s really the only choice you have,” you said. He laughed as he hopped up, skirting back into the kitchen and fixing up another brownie and ice cream combo.

“Hey you want more, Dee?” he asked. You popped your head up and he spun around. “I’m-“

“Don't apologize, Jensen,” you said. He tapped his fingers against the counter and took a deep breath, putting his back to you.

“That’s the second time tonight I’ve done that,” he said.

“Jensen. There’s nothing wrong with missing your wife.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“You don’t...talk about her much.”

“It was...she wasn’t…” he trailed off. He sat down on a barstool and you got up, walking over and hopping up on the counter beside him. You set your feet in the stool next to his and paused before you put a hand on top of his head and ran your fingers through the short strands. “This shouldn’t have happened to her.”

“Death is the price for living. Pain’s the price for caring. Doesn’t mean it’s not worth it,” you said. You started to move your hand away when he turned his head.

“Don’t…” he said, easing when you played with it gently again. “That’s always calmed me down since I was a little kid.”

“Someone should take care of you every once in a while you know. Your parents, siblings, friends. Everyone needs a break.”

“I had a lot of help at the beginning. I don’t need a whole day. Just a moment here and there,” he said quietly.

“It’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. He nodded and you played with his hair a few moments, watching his shoulders ease. This time when you pulled away he smiled up at you. “Better?”

“Yeah. Thank you. That’s not in your job description to do that sort of thing.”

“Well I think your wife would want somebody to watch your back, even for only a minute or two,” you said.

“You don’t have any brain aneurysms I should know about, do you?” he chuckled.

“No. That what happened?” you asked, a single nod coming from him.

“She was sleeping. Not a bad way to go I was told, you’d never even know,” he said. “Not a fun thing to wake up to in the morning though.”

“My dad had a mass at the back of his head. It was that same kind of thing where one second it’s fine and the next everything’s different deal. It was inoperable. Then he goes and dies from a car accident of all things before it got bad. My mom had a hard time with that.”

“You said she had a boyfriend later on right?” he asked.

“Yeah. I know you’ll be okay, Jensen,” you said. You ruffled his hair and he smiled, a soft look on his face. “Pro tip too from someone who’s been there, kids with a single parent turn out just fine.”

“Do they ever wish they had another parent?” he asked.

“They wish the parent they still have around is happy again someday. They won’t understand until they’re older that it’s a different kind of love between parents. But they’ll know it’s a little different and they’ll hope dad feels better too. Your kids are tough. They’ll be okay too.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he said. You hopped off the counter and washed up your dish, sticking it in the dishwasher before you went to leave for your room. “So I gotta ask. Who takes care of you?”

“Me?” you asked, pointing to yourself. He shrugged and smiled, your gaze going past him. “I’m all good. I don’t need somebody to take care of me.”

“Liar,” he said softly. “You know my friend tells me everybody needs to be taken care of sometimes.”

“That’s the difference between us Jensen. You’re not like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scoffed, his face scrunching up suddenly.

“It means you’re not on your own and even if you feel like it, it’s only been a little while. You’ll be okay. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was a kid. I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“You haven’t lived my life and I haven’t lived yours. Don’t try to tell me that I’m not capable of-”

“It’s not about what you’re capable of. You said pain is part of life, it’s the price for living. You’ve had more than your fair share-”

“Lots of people have it a lot worse.”

“Don’t compare your pain to someone else's. They haven’t lived your life,” he said. You rolled your eyes and started to walk away, Jensen out of his seat and catching up with you in the hall. “You can be taken care of too you know.”

“By who? My non-existent circle of friends? My crappy ex? My mom’s ex boyfriend who’s got his own wife and kids? I am perfectly fine managing all of this by myself. I’ve been doing it for years.”

“You’re so frustratingly annoying,” he said, running his hand over his face. “Me. I’m talking about me. You just...you took care of me tonight. The least I can do is show you the same compassion.”

“No,” you said.

“No? Why not?”

“Because taking care of me turns into you walking into my shower without my permission and you being a dick and this going away and I don’t want you to be those things so no. We’re getting too friendly. Please leave me alone tomorrow.”

You left him in the hall and went down to your area of the house, shutting the door after you. There was quickly a knock and you growled, ripping it open.

“What?” you snapped at him.

“I am not going to hurt you or be a dick to you or whatever else you think. You need to realize in the real world, not everyone is an asshole.”

“You’re the one not living in the real world then, Jensen. Everybody’s an asshole.”

“Fine. I’m an asshole. But I’m not leaving until you say I can take care of you tomorrow. Two minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“This is my part of the house.”

“And technically I am outside your door,” he said. “Why are you so resistant to somebody doing something nice for you?”

“Because I don’t wanna get used to it,” you said. He stared and you shook your head. “You’re attractive and an actor and kind and funny and it’s not a matter of if you date again but when and when that day comes, we ain’t gonna be sitting on the couch eating ice cream anymore. Please do not invite me to anymore outings as a friend. I’ll attend if required as a nanny but this between us is done.”

“For the record, the only one around here that thinks of you as just the hired help is you. My children are completely like their old selves. I feel more like my old self. You seem happier than when I met you but for some reason, that’s a big problem to you. I do not understand that.”

“Leave or I resign and move out first thing,” you said. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin. “This is my formal resignation then. The company will-”

He moved quickly and you weren’t sure what he was doing at first but soon you realized he was hugging you, your hands resting against his chest. You swallowed and he didn’t move, your forehead resting against him.

“What are you doing?” you breathed out.

“When’s the last time you got a fucking hug?” he asked.

“The kids-”

“Not the kids.”

“I don’t remember,” you said quietly.

“Then you are overdue,” he said. You let yourself reach your arms around him and return the hug, breathing deeply, a small bubble in you rising up. You tried to push it down but it came back harder and you were fighting back tears before you knew it.

He could feel when you lost that battle, hand rubbing up and down your back. There was a soft shushing in the air and after a few minutes you felt better. You lifted your head but didn’t look at him, Jensen squeezing you in his hug again before it eased.

“You know you’re not allowed to quit on me...like ever,” he chuckled. You let out a small laugh, Jensen smiling at you when you forced your head up. He wiped off your cheeks and you let out one last sniffle. “You’re not alone. I promise you’re not. It’s not the quantity of people you have in your life but the quality and I’m sorry but we are friends and there’s nothing you can do about that so I’d just accept it now.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch.”

“You were scared, not a bitch,” he said. “I wish I could make you happier is all.”

“I wish I could bring back your wife for you,” you said.

“One of those is a lot more possible than the other,” he said. A small smile crossed his lips before he ducked his head down, shoulders heaving back before his head raised. “Y/N, can I confess something to you? I hope...I hope it doesn’t bother you but if it does, you don’t have to continue working for me. I’d still like to be friends regardless.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, Jensen looking past you.

“My single friend I was going to set you up with? He doesn’t exist.”

“Oh.”

“Cause he’s kinda me.”

“Oh,” you said, staring at him, a lot of his previous behavior starting to click into place. “That’s…”

“I know,” he said, stepping away and rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s weird and douchey and I’m sorry. I like you and I was trying to see if you would ever go for a 42 year old actor. I left out the widow and kids part but...I’m sorry.”

“When did you like me?” you asked quietly.

“The whole time?” he said, laughing nervously to himself. “It’s kinda snowballed since we met. I never in my life thought I’d like someone again. I didn’t want to like you. I hired you because you were the best candidate and I knew the kids would be in good hands but everyday it’s there, even more, and I know this is so inappropriate on so many levels and I’m really starting to ramble here but you make me think maybe your mom had a point and people are allowed to have...more than one…and sometimes the way you talk to me and treat me and look at me...”

He swallowed as you stepped in front of him, taking a quick breath.

“I will keep working for you and I’ll be your friend...and you can make me dinner tomorrow,” you said with a smile. “We’ll see where it goes from there?”

“You’re not...weirded out?” he asked.

“By your age, you’re my boss or the cheeky lying about a fake friend?” you said.

“All of the above.”

“Age doesn’t bother me. You have no idea how to be a boss, no offense, and the friend...I don’t blame you for wanting to test the waters first,” you said. “But I expect honesty from here on out.”

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good,” you said.

“You do like me right?” he asked. “Like you don’t feel obligated or-”

“I like you Jensen. Why do you think I was trying to push you away before you got too close? I didn’t want to be hurt.”

“Give me a chance to not,” he said. “We can have dinner and see how it goes from there.”

“Normally the best course of action,” you said.

“But maybe with a few more hugs from now on,” he said. “For the both of us.”

“That’d be okay with me,” you said. He smiled and you returned it. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“I guess you will,” he said. He turned to go when he spun back on his heels. “Or we could go back out there, eat way too much dessert and hang out?”

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. “Give me a minute to wash up my face.”

“Take all the time you want. I’m gonna change into something more comfortable anyways.”

He left and you washed off your face in the bathroom, drying it off and taking a deep breath.

You did like him. There was something calming about him to you and you enjoyed his company, even if it was just the two of you having a quiet cup of coffee in the morning.

But he was an actor. And kinda famous. And a widow. And had three kids.

“But your face is cute,” you said aloud, looking the mirror. “Gah, of course you have to be like...into me. Nutjob. He must be a nutjob. That’s it.”

“Y/N?” you heard him saying and you smacked yourself in the face. “Are you talking to yourself?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, stepping out and seeing him in the hall sporting a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt. “That was fast.”

“Well I didn’t go through an eight step skin routine too,” he chuckled.

“For your information, my routine is only three steps,” you said, walking past him and waggling your fingers.

“I didn’t realize I was living with such a savage,” he said. You laughed and went back to the kitchen, making up another dish of brownie for him while he went over to where he kept his liquor. “You a bourbon kind of girl?”

“Is there any other kind?” you said.

“Touche.” He poured out two glasses and slid one over while you passed his bowl to him. “So what’s this three step routine? Do I need to up my game or what?”

“I think I need your routine, not the other way around,” you said.

“Nah. I like looking at your face more than mine. Trust me.”

“Oh. How long you been holding back those kinds of comments?” you teased.

“Longer than you’d think,” he said, sharing the bowl with you. “Feel okay now?”

“Yeah. I can’t remember the last time I cried,” you said. “Especially in front of someone.”

“A good cry session has never hurt in my experience. I’ll do it for work and stuff but normally I’m not much of one. Aside from the past six months I mean.”

“Are you ready to try this?” you asked.

“Yeah. I know I am,” he said. “I’m positive of it.”

“How can you know that?”

“Because you make me happy. You make me...want to do stuff again, believe in all the romantic...if I wasn’t ready, I’d feel guilty. But I don’t. I just know that maybe some people get more than one chance and maybe I’m one of them.”

“I know you are, whoever it ends up being,” you said.

“Are you ready to try this?”

You took a drink and bite of ice cream, pushing the bowl back.

“I miss my family,” you said. “I miss being happy. I’d like to...have someone that could take care of me for a moment every once in a while. I might mess that up sometimes but I’m willing to try.”

“Me too,” he said. “I’d expect some screw ups on this end too. I’ve been out of the dating game for a long time.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t changed all that much,” you said.

“Well I’ve never dated with kids and as a widow,” he said.

“I’m just in this for them to be honest,” you laughed.

“I see how it is,” he said with a smirk.

“I don’t think it’ll be as hard as you think,” you said.

“I hope not,” he said.

“Do they know? You want to date?”

“JJ does,” he said. “She’s little but she understands that it doesn’t mean I’ll never love her mother any less. She’s been strangely okay through this whole thing aside from the first few weeks. She helps her brother and sister out more now.”

“As someone who was that kid, minus the siblings, I know they’ll be okay. She’s a great kid. I’ve met plenty of spoiled brats. Yours are not.”

“Well that might just be the second best thing I’ve heard tonight,” he said.

“Whatever was the first?” you teased, eating a spoon of ice cream.

“Oh I think you know,” he said, stealing the spoon back. You smiled and heard some feet run around upstairs before the stairs creeped and a little head ducked down into view. “Arrow. It’s bedtime sweetie.”

“I had a accident,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, honey,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Want help?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said. He scooped up Arrow on the way up the stairs, setting her down in the kids bathroom. He got some clean pajamas and you found a pair of pull ups, Arrow pouting at you.

“I don’t need ‘em,” she said.

“Your brother wears them. I wore them and your mommy and daddy wore them. Everybody wears pull ups when they’re your age,” you said.

“Just tonight,” she said, stepping into them. Jensen walked past with the mattress liner and she was dressed by the time you heard the washer going off in the distance. You walked her back to bed, Jensen slipping in past you and tucking her in. “Night daddy.”

“Night sweetie,” he said, kissing her temple.

“Night Y/N,” she said.

“Night night kiddo,” you said, giving her a tiny wave before you left, Jensen flipping off her light and pulling the door shut.

“Come here a second,” he said, nodding and you saw him head towards his room. The double doors were open and you stepped inside, Jensen going past the bed and over to a set of french doors. He pushed one open and waved for you to follow, showing you out to a rooftop balcony.

“Wow,” you said, a set of chairs, a table and a lounger out there along with a whole lot soft string lights. “I didn’t realize you had this up here.”

“Kinda a place to go unwind, relax,” he said. “I disappear out here sometimes. Been out here a lot at night lately.”

“Thinking about what?” you asked.

“You,” he said. “I talk to Dee about you sometimes as crazy as that sounds.”

“Doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you said.

“I just wanted to say...this area isn’t off limits anymore. Nothing is,” he said.

“She asked you out, didn’t she,” you said with a smile. He rubbed the back of his neck and blushed. “You’re cute.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, heading back towards inside.

“Come on, Jensen. Before the ice cream melts on us.”

_______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles au #rpf #jensen series #rpf series #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #jensen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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moonlit-han · 4 years ago

Text

part i: he came in through the bathroom window

genre: college au, neighbor au, fluff, humor pairing: femme reader x 3racha in poly relationship part word count: 5k part warnings: suggestive, alcohol consumption, explicit language request: yes and no~ a/n: this is in no way represents stray kids or bang chan, seo changbin, and han jisung, as it is a work of fiction. and to my readers: this is the first part in a series that’s rather dear to my heart, and while i’m not sure how long it’ll end up being at the moment, i hope you enjoy it!

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

Just before your final year of college, you moved into a new apartment—well, your part of a shared house that had been made into several apartments. There was another one on the ground floor with yours, and then two upstairs. It was clean, with lovely light and a surprisingly nice kitchen. Your bedroom was nicely proportioned, too, with amazing closet space. The bathroom adjoined your neighbor’s, and there was even a little door that connected the two, for some reason. You quickly found that you had to leave the window open, even just a crack, to air out the room—an old house meant no ventilation fan. Occasionally, the proximity to your neighbor made it a little weird when you ended up taking a shower at the same time because he sang in the shower. On more than one occasion, you had to stop yourself from joining in.

You later found out that said neighbor was a music student at the same university as you, and you were sure you would have never met him if he hadn’t been your neighbor. He didn’t hang out with the same people as you, didn’t have any of the same classes, seemed to spend all his time shut up in his apartment occasionally strumming on a guitar, and was just generally an introvert. He did seem to have two best friends whose laughter you heard through the walls on a regular basis.

On the second day you lived there, a Friday, he knocked on your door, a mango in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Hi, I’m Jisung,” he chirped. “I live next door. I brought you a house-warming gift—sorry it isn’t fancier. Hope you like it!” Jisung thrust the wine and mango into your surprised hands and then darted away to the other side of the house before you could even invite him in. You just stood there for a solid two minutes, staring into nothing with the mango and bottle of wine.

Wow, he was hot. Shit.

For the rest of the day, you went about your business, unpacking and arranging your things. The bottle of wine drew your eye but you resisted temptation, knowing that you wouldn’t get anything done if you opened it in the mid-afternoon. Occasionally, you heard music or slightly worrying thumps from Jisung’s apartment. But, you’d only just moved in and didn’t know him well enough to feel comfortable going to check on him. Surely he was fine, right?

Around 6 pm, you gave in and got the bottle of wine. Rummaging in one of the boxes still lounging on the kitchen floor, you found a wine glass, and miraculously, the bottle opener, too. As you poured out the liquid, it smelled fruity and a little sweeter than you normally liked wine, but it was a gift and you’d been working all day. You couldn’t pass up free alcohol. And perhaps because you’d been moving in all day, the wine tasted delicious and you soon poured yourself another glass. Thinking there had to be a reason for Jisung including a mango, of all things, with the wine, you sliced it and ate a few pieces in between sips of wine. The combination was perfect, and you wondered how Jisung had discovered such a lovely pairing.

As you settled in for evening, your thoughts strayed to your new neighbor. He seemed nice enough, albeit a bit shy, and was thoughtful enough to bring a housewarming present. That had to count for something. But what you couldn’t get out of your head was just him—the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the way his hair swooped around his face. And with the hoodie that practically swallowed him whole, Jisung was absolutely the cutest, most handsome guy you’d ever seen.

Pausing the show you were watching on your computer, you had to take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. You’d only just met the man, and you hadn’t even said anything! How could you be falling for him already? Heck! Giving up completely, you decided to go to bed . . . on the sofa you were currently occupying because you hadn’t set up your bed yet.

↠↞

Three months later, you were successfully moved in and your classes were in full-swing. You’d seen Jisung a few times as you came and went from your apartment, but you hadn’t really talked much. You were okay with that, though—classes were busy and it wasn’t as if there was some mystical Book of Rules for New Neighbors that you had to read and follow directions from. When you did talk, though, he was perfectly nice, making sure to ask how you were doing and actually listening to what you had to say—a rare quality, you’d found. He always gave you a toothy grin that seemed to light up his whole body, too.

Your door knocker barely ever got used, which was why when very loud knocking echoed through your apartment on Saturday, you were sure the apocalypse was coming. Cautiously, thinking of all the bad things that could happen if the person on the other side of the door meant you harm, you opened your front door. Revealed on the threshold was Jisung, along with two other young men who could only be the best friends you heard so often.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jisung said, moving slightly to the side so you could see his companions. “So, I figured I’d introduce you to my friends, since they’re around a lot. Also, I usually ask one or both of them watch the apartment when I’m gone sometimes.”

“Oh. Okay,” was all you could manage while being stared at by three highly attractive young men.

“Can we . . . come in?” Jisung asked hesitantly.

“Um, yeah sure,” you said, blinking, and moved out of the way.

So that was how you ended up with Jisung and his two best friends lounging on the couch in your apartment. They seemed perfectly at home, not noticing or simply not caring about the mess of books and mugs on your coffee table, nor the—

Oh shit, the laundry.

Your laundry—underpants, bras, and all—was hanging on a drying rack in the corner of your living room under the window. You scurried over to the rack and quickly threw a towel, which had been catching any rain that happened to fall on your windowsill, over the clothes. Turning round, you found the guys looking at you. You smiled nervously, knowing you were blushing.

Jisung put his head in his hands. You felt like doing the same thing just then.

“So, let me guess,” said the one sitting on Jisung’s left, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re name’s Reina, right? Since you’re lovely as a queen?”

You burst out laughing. You couldn’t believe someone had actually just used such a ridiculous pick-up line on you. “Sorry to disappoint,” you said, still giggling. “My name’s Y/N.”

“Oh well,” Chan said in mock-sadness, “that’s a pretty name, too. Just about as pretty as you!”

“Chan, fucking hell, man,” Jisung groaned. “Can you not flirt with every single person I introduce you to?”

“Sorry, ’Sung.” He still winked at you, though.

“Yeah. Okay.” Jisung addressed you again. “So this,” he pointed at the one he’d called ‘Chan,’ “is Chan. And the other dork who insists on being friends with me is Changbin. They’re also studying music composition and production.”

“Nice to meet you. And honestly,” you added conspiratorially, “I don’t understand why you’d want to be around Jisung either. Did you know he sings in the shower?”

Now it was Chan and Changbin’s turn to burst out laughing, falling onto the sofa’s arms.

“Jisung, your neighbor’s cool!” Changbin chuckled once he got himself under control. “Why didn’t you introduce us sooner?"

Jisung blushed faintly and grumbled something about not getting the chance. He’s really cute when he blushes, you thought.

“But yeah, we’re the bane of the Music Department’s existence,” Changbin said cheerfully. His voice was slightly husky, but somehow melodious, too.

“Just call us 3racha—because we’re spicy like Sriracha sauce!”

“Chan!” Jisung hissed, shoving his friend but he couldn’t wipe the grin off Chan’s face. Even though he seemed determined to be the cheesiest person ever, you noticed that Chan had extremely cute dimples and kind eyes.

“Wow, you three really are something,” you observed, with only a hint of sarcasm tinging your voice. “Jisung, did you really just come over and insist on coming into my apartment just to introduce your friends? Or, did you need something?” It came out slightly harsher than you’d meant it, but still. He’d practically barged in!

“Um, yeah, pretty much,” Jisung said. “Like I said, I wanted you to at least know who the people coming and going were.”

“And if you ever need anything,” Changbin added, “we’ve got you.”

“Thanks?” you said, not quite sure how they’d be able to help you, since you’d a) only just met them, and b) didn’t have any way to contact them. Although, Changbin did have a quiet confidence about him that was actually quite reassuring.

Jisung sighed, a little fidgety. “Well, I think we’ve trespassed on your time long enough. Let me know if the music’s too loud, okay?”

All four of you stood at the same time, Changbin leading the way to the door. “See you later, Y/N,” he said. “It was lovely to finally meet the person we’ve been hearing so much about.” And then he winked, too.

What was with these guys and winking? you groused to yourself, trying to keep ahold of your expression. Wait, he didn’t mean… oh fucking hell. Judging by Changbin’s smirk that’s exactly what he’d meant. Why did the walls have to be so thin? Why!

Clearly exercising all the self-control he had, Chan just waved and said “Bye” on the way out. Jisung stopped as he was halfway out your door.

“Sorry this was unexpected, Y/N. I just thought you’d like to get to know them.” Jisung smiled a little sadly, and with that, carefully shut your door after himself.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding just as a small scuffle broke out on your front step. You could almost hear Jisung berating his friends for something. Running a hand through your hair and massaging a temple in the process, you walked back over to sit on the couch. As you continued massaging your head, your eyes were caught by a folded piece of paper on the coffee table.

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember ever having that pattern of note paper. You picked it up and opened it to see. . .

Wow, the audacity.

One of the guys had left all three of their numbers for you on that slip of paper. Chan’s even had a heart next to his. They really had some nerve. Then again, you weren’t exactly complaining that three hot guys had just left you their numbers. You never knew when that could come in handy.

↠↞

You were finally snuggled in bed when you heard a crash. You went stiff for a moment, thinking through the various things that could have made that sound in your apartment. The sound seemed to have come from the bathroom. Okay. So, it might have been the mirror or a glass you forgot to move off the edge of the sink. It didn’t have to be the window. Besides, there hadn’t been any other noises after the first.

Reluctantly, you got out of bed and trudged to the bathroom to see what had happened. The shelf you’d put up two days ago lay on the floor surrounded by the shards of a vase you’d placed on said shelf just earlier that evening.

“Damn it,” you muttered, bending to pick up the shelf and the larger pieces of glass. The weight of the vase must have been too much for the shelf, even though you’d properly attached it to the wall. You methodically cleaned up the glass and reattached the shelf to the wall, not putting anything on it this time in hopes that it wouldn’t fall again.

When you woke up, the shelf was still up and you felt rather smug for putting it back up properly. And when you got home, the shelf was still up, too.

That night, you took a lovely bath—taking care to crack the window to let out the steam—twisted your hair up into a comfortable top-knot, and then laid down on your bed with just yourself for company. You sighed gratefully. It had been a long week and you desperately needed some rest.

But, before you could even settle into the softness of your mattress, you heard the distinctive sound of shattering glass. From inside your apartment.

Fuck, not again.

You slipped out of bed, throwing on your sleep shorts and a loose tank top before padding out of your bedroom. Walking as silently as you could, by putting your the balls of your feet on the ground before your heels, you made your way to the bathroom.

You heard a thump just as you put your hand on the doorknob. If that shelf had fallen again…

It was not the shelf.

None other than Han Jisung was sprawled on your bathroom floor, arms and legs going everywhere, and a look of distinct puzzlement on his face. He shook his head, clearly having banged it on the floor. There were bits of broken glass scattered all around him, and you could see a light dusting of it in his hair.

��What the fuck?” you shrieked, backing up to just outside the door.

Jisung looked up at you and grimaced. “Hi?”

“What the hell are you doing in my bathroom? How are you in my bathroom? You had better have a damn good explanation, Han Jisung.” You couldn’t believe it. You’d thought Jisung was nice, that he was normal. But this? Sneaking into your bathroom at 12:30 am? That was just too much. Only a creep would do that.

Jisung scrambled onto his knees, his back to the wall. Under the window. The window that had just been broken. “I can explain!” he said, hands going up in front of him as his shoulders shrugged, as if expecting a blow.

“You’d better talk fast,” you said, your voice dangerously low.

“So, like a dumbass, I forgot my key.” He gulped, then took a breath. “And the guy who lived here before you used to let me come through here when I forgot my key because there’s the connecting door.”

You glanced at said door, which you’d assumed was sealed permanently. Apparently not. You glared at Jisung, who continued.

“Um, I thought I’d just climb in and go through the door. I didn’t mean to break the glass, I promise! My foot just got stuck and so I kind of tripped through the window, if that makes sense? I’m so sorry, Y/N! I thought I’d told you about the whole window thing!” Jisung’s face was screwed up like he might cry, his whole body tense as he made himself as small as he could.

You almost felt sorry for him. Almost. But, you didn’t say anything, waiting for Jisung to provide more of an explanation.

“I— My front windows don’t open and the back and side ones open onto the hill, so there’s nowhere I can use to climb into my own apartment. That’s the only reason this has happened. Really, I’m sorry!”

“So,” you said, hands on your hips, “you’re telling me that you used to climb through this window whenever you forgot your keys.” Jisung nodded. “Did you ever think of making of copy of the key and hiding it under a rock or something?” You were in utter disbelief—how hadn’t he done that? Or given Chan and Changbin keys? You mentally rolled your eyes.

“Shit,” Jisung lamented. “No, I hadn’t thought of that. Like I said, he just let me come in this way and it seemed to work fine. Plus, I don’t think the landlord would like us making copies of the keys, right?”

“Jisung, right now that’s the least of your worries. Please remember that you’re sitting on my bathroom floor. At 12:45 am. I was in bed!” You sighed loudly. Jisung just looked so dejected, you couldn’t stay angry at him for long. “For fucks sake, come here,” you said, reaching out a hand.

He took it, careful not to step on any broken glass from the window, and let you pull him up. His hands were calloused from playing the guitar. And suddenly, Jisung was very close to you. Very close. You could see how long his eyelashes were and the place where he must bite his lip when he’s nervous—you could smell his shampoo. You were also all too aware of just how thin your tank top was, and, it would seem, so was Jisung. You crossed your arms, hoping he’d just think you were cold from the breeze coming in the open window.

“I’ll contact the landlord tomorrow and say I was playing baseball or something and accidentally hit a ball through the window,” he said quickly, stepping back and trying not to look any lower than your face.

“Okay,” you replied, heartbeat faster than you’d care to admit. “Thanks. Now please get out of my bathroom, Jisung. I really do want to go to bed.”

“Yeah, sorry. Really, Y/N. I’m so sorry about this. I’ll— I’ll go get some cardboard and tape to cover the window. I’m sorry!” Jisung seemed like he would start rambling wildly any moment now.

“Just go back to your apartment. I’ll take care of the window, okay?” you tried to be as firm as you could, but Jisung could do sad puppy eyes better than anyone you’d ever met. Dear god, this boy… You gave in. After all, it would be one less thing for you to do. “Fine, Jisung. You can patch the window. Do it quickly, since I want to go to bed.”

With a soft, apologetic smile, Jisung went to the half-door next to your bathroom cabinet. After a moment of him fiddling with the latch, the door swung inward to reveal a small space through which he could crawl. Sighing, Jisung bent down and looked up at you. It did not escape your notice that this was the second time that night that you’d seen Jisung on his knees.

“Again, I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right back to fix the window—just go back to bed.”

Before you could respond, Jisung was crawling forward into the slightly dingy area between your apartments.

↠↞

Jisung did, indeed, take care of the window getting fixed. When you went out to check how it looked, you noticed a conveniently placed log that would make it much easier to, say, climb through the window above. You estimated the height from the ground to the windowsill, and realized that Jisung would have had to jump and then pull himself up just with the strength in his arms in order to get through the window. Yes, the wood shingle siding provided fairly good footholds, but not that much. Damn, you thought appreciatively, he’s strong. You were suddenly glad for the chill in the air to cool your now too-warm face.

You found yourself thinking about Jisung at the most inconvenient times, such as in your lecture classes, and quickly realized that, even though you didn’t know him as well as you’d like, you had a crush on your neighbor. Strangely, you still hadn’t run into each other on campus, but you’d seen Chan and Changbin—in the distance and too far away to talk to. You weren’t sure what to make of the fact that you were into Jisung, but your daydreams had certainly become much more vivid.

That one night was just the first time of many that Han Jisung crawled through your window in the middle of the night. By the sixth time it happened, you decided to talk to Jisung.

You heard the familiar rattle of the window and immediately raced into the bathroom in time to help Jisung down. It was a bit sad to see him on the floor after he accidentally caught a piece of clothing, his backpack, or, one memorable time, an earring, on the window. You held out a hand to him, and he took it, hopping into the room like a lady exiting a carriage.

Holding Jisung’s hand was surprisingly nice. His grip was firm and comforting, as if he were transferring his warmth and affection—

Wait, affection? Huh . . .

You quickly dropped Jisung’s hand, but not after checking that his feet were planted on the ground.

“Jisung, why don’t you come into the living room, okay?” you said, hoping you didn’t sound nervous.

“Oh. Sure!” Jisung was clearly baffled, since you’d never done anything like this. Remembering to shut the window behind himself, he followed you into your apartment. By now, he should have been almost used to seeing you in your pajamas, but he wasn’t. Your tank tops left nothing to the imagination, which was maddening for him.

You pointed Jisung to the couch, and he took a seat, sitting with his back ramrod straight and an expectant look in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile a little as you curled up on the other end of the couch. Jisung, who took this as encouragement, smiled back.

“Jisung, I’ve noticed that you’ve come through this way once a week for over a month,” you said. “There’s no way you’ve actually lost your key every single fucking week. So, why have you been coming through into my apartment every week?”

You knew it sounded a little silly, but he had been appearing between 9:30 pm and 1:30 am every Friday.

“Um, yeah. I may or may not be really bad at keeping my keys on me. Also . . .” Jisung’s voice trailed off so quietly that you couldn’t hear him properly.

“What did you say?” you asked.

“I’m really bad at keeping my keys on me?”

“No, the other part,” you said slowly.

“Damn, I was hoping you wouldn’t hear that,” Jisung grumbled.

“Jisung, what the hell?”

“I wanted to see you,” Jisung said and ran a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

You were stunned. It almost made sense—Jisung was clearly an introvert and seemed to be one of those people who would rather do something outrageous than actually have to talk to someone, much less someone they had a crush on. Neither of you had exactly made many other attempts to see or talk to each other, besides random meetings at the mailbox and leaving your apartments at the same time. Although, he had asked you to bring him soup when he got a cold in September, and you’d happily taken him some. Amazingly, the fact that he’d been all but sneaking into your apartment for the last six weeks didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. That, you realized upon later reflection, probably had something to do with your crush on him.

“You . . . wanted to see me?” you asked, voice soft. You barely noticed as you uncurled your legs and shifted closer to Jisung. Your hands rested on the upholstery beside you.

“Yeah.” Jisung had moved closer, too, and now you were sitting side-by-side, facing each other.

“But why?”

“Because,” Jisung said as he reached out and linked his pinky finger with yours. You nearly jumped, the contact seeming like a spark leaping from him to you. “Well, you’re beautiful and kind, and I’d like to get to know you better. And whenever I hear you laugh at whatever silly thing you’re reading or watching, I end up giggling because it’s the best sound I’ve ever heard. Did I mention you’re beautiful?”

You were silent for a minute, staring into space level with Jisung’s elbow; he shifted nervously but you didn’t let go of his hand. Your mind raced nearly as fast as your heartbeat.

“Kiss me, then,” you said, and Jisung’s eyes went wide. “Kiss me, Jisung.”

Jisung hesitantly placed his hand on your waist as you gently cupped his cheek—you could feel his pulse jumping in his neck. His touch was light as a feather and you could feel his hand shaking, even as he drew you closer. He leaned forward at the same time as you did, too, and a dull ache spread through your forehead where it had hit Jisung’s.

You crinkled your nose, leaning your head against the couch, and rubbed your brow.

“Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?” Jisung said, not even thinking as he ran his hand over what was now a slightly red spot of your forehead.

You giggled and said, “I’m fine. Are you okay, though?”

“I’ve had worse,” Jisung chuckled. He also leaned against the couch, resting his arm on its back as, throwing all caution to the winds, he traced the arch of your cheekbone with a fingertip. “Here,” he said as he leaned toward you again and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Aw, you’re too sweet,” you said. Jisung was directly in front of you and you thought, Well, since he’s already this close. So, you leaned in and placed kiss after kiss down his jaw. Still hesitant, Jisung turned his head slightly and brushed his lips against yours. It was only for a second, but you immediately caught his lips with yours, wanting more. As you took the lead, Jisung relaxed into the kiss. His lips were warm as you renewed the kiss over and over.

You took a breath, smiling and moving your free hand to Jisung’s hair—It really was as soft as you’d always expected. He hummed contentedly, leaning his head back slightly into your hand.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” Jisung breathed, letting out what might have been a laugh or a sigh.

“Me, too,” you said, still carding your fingers through his hair.

“And now you’re too far away,” Jisung pouted, and slanted his lips to yours again. Continuing to twine your fingers around his hair, you let your other hand run over Jisung’s arms and chest, then down to wrap around his waist. As you did, Jisung held your hip and pulled you closer so you were nearly sitting in his lap. Not that you minded. You transferred a hand to his shoulder so you wouldn’t topple over. Jisung swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you gladly opened to him. He tasted of the vanilla chapstick he clearly used, and as you explored each other’s mouths, you slipped your hand under the hem of his shirt.

The feeling of your hand on his skin nearly made Jisung faint from surprise and he gasped against your lips before kissing you even more enthusiastically. After long moments of wonton kissing, your arm ached a little from resting on the back of the couch and, reluctantly, you broke the kiss. Jisung’s lips were very red and swollen.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked, worried as he pulled back, just in case. You didn’t let go of him, though.

“Can we change positions a little, Ji?” The nickname had just slipped out and you didn’t realize you’d call him that until you saw his expression.

“Of course.” Jisung paused, not exactly sure what to do next. “Um, what do you want to do?”

“Well,” you pretended to think for a moment, “we could lay down a bit?”

Jisung blushed a little at the implication that hung in those words. “That’s,” he began and cleared his throat. “That’s just fine with me.”

Taking a deep breath, Jisung slouched back onto the arm of the couch, bringing you with him. You had to do some scooting yourself, and soon found yourself straddling his legs. Jisung reached up and pulled you down to him, running his hands up and down your back as he did so. You rested your forearms on the couch behind Jisung and brought your lips back to his, leaving little kisses around his lips before fully kissing him again. Kissing him was like finding a lucky penny: unexpectedly sweet and such a simple yet exciting thing that you couldn’t help but want to leap with joy. All of a sudden, a giggle burbled up out of you and you hid your face in the crook of Jisung’s neck.

“What?” Jisung asked.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“No, really. What is it?” Jisung was quite curious now.

You lifted your head, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I kind of want to see you shirtless now,” you admitted and immediately burrowed your head in his shoulder again.

Jisung laughed, really laughed, as he said, “Yeah? Well, I can’t take my shirt off with you on top of me.”

Still quite embarrassed that he’d even considered what you’d said, you sat up and Jisung lifted the hem of his t-shirt. You couldn’t help yourself once his shirt was off: you whistled, murmuring, “Holy shit.” While you’d guessed that Jisung had nice muscles, you weren’t expecting him to have abs for days and killer arms, not to mention perfectly proportioned pecs.

Jisung smiled, a little embarrassed. “Um, like what you see?”

“Oh, you have no idea,” you said, and trailed a finger down his chest. Jisung let out a shaky breath and you felt a hard pressure underneath your bum. Your pajama pants felt quite thin at the moment. Swooping down, you captured his lips again and continued to run your hands over every inch of him you could reach. Jisung moaned every time your hands returned to his chest, and he slipped a hand down to your bum to hold your hips to his. Your kisses were soon so heated they were almost desperate, your hands ranging over each other’s bodies as the warmth inside grew.

“Jisung,” you said, breathing hard. You sat up, realizing, belatedly, that your top was dangerously low now. “If we don’t stop now—”

“I don’t want to stop,” he whispered. “But if you do, we will. It’s okay, I promise.”

Jisung was so gentle and careful, you could almost cry. “Oh, Ji,” you murmured, and kissed him again, lingering at his bottom lip before pulling back. “I don’t want to stop either.”

Jisung craned his neck to kiss just below your ear. “Then we won’t.” As you continued kissing, any hopes of going back to sleep disappeared like mist in early morning sun. But you didn't want to go to bed, not when Jisung’s hands were slipping under your tank top.

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woodrokiro · 3 years ago

Text

Do It For the Band, Part Five (fic)

Fandom: Bleach

Pairing: IchiRuki:

Summary: When Tatsuki said she wanted their sophomore album to be the next Rumours, this is NOT what she meant. Band AU. Read Part One, Two, Three, and Four.

Against her better judgement, Tatsuki takes an early flight home the next morning, so she really doesn’t know what went down.

Frankly, between battling her colossal hangover and focusing on not puking on the plane when it hits turbulence: she doesn’t even think about it until later in the week.

Since the tour ended, the band has a week off to just chill and take some time for themselves before regrouping and planning their next move. Tatsuki goes straight home to smoke weed and binge dumb movies on her to-watch queue. Chad and Orihime had plans to stay in their last tour city for a while since they had friends and family there.

And as for Ichigo and Rukia…

Who knows. They’re both such dorks that they’re probably that gross couple who serenade each other in bed, naked, making weird metaphorical lyrics about the sex they just had.

Gross. But kind of sweet.

She makes a point to not think about or reach out to any of them (besides Orihime, of course) the entire week - not that she doesn’t love her team fiercely, but they all need the break away from each other... Especially after they spent all their time together making the album and going on tour, and especially if Ichigo decides to show one of his new Rukia-love ballads to the band upon their return.

Still, she attempts to check in with Ichigo on the fifth day over text.

How ya doin’, tiger?

He doesn’t respond for a few hours, but she doesn’t think much of it. He’s always been sort of a shitty texter, and there’s a strong chance all the raucous love-making isn’t reminding him to check his phone.

She’s on the fourth episode of Terrace House’ newest season, debating whether one of the cast members is a chaotic queen or absolute garbage when she hears the familiar ping of a text message on her phone. She picks it up and reads:

Fine.

Huh.

Not exactly the sunshine-y answer she expected, but then again: it’s Ichigo. He’s not exactly a sunshine-y person, even when - apparently - he’s radiantly happy.

She shrugs, deciding not to push it. She’ll find out soon enough how everything’s going when they have practice in a couple days.

Practice is in Chad’s garage, and Ichigo, Chad, and Orihime are already there.

She mostly chats with Orihime, who has so much to update her on about her newest recipes, like natto ice cream and sriracha orange juice, and hey, Tatsuki, what are your thoughts on this newest article I found about robots dominating the planet within the next five years?

Tatsuki glows in the babble, chuckling when she can’t help herself. Says the first sounds… Interesting, the second sounds like maybe she can keep revising it a little, and that last article sounds like it might be from a not so trust-worthy news source.

Her friend tries to argue the source’s credibility when she looks over at Ichigo. He’s silently tuning his guitar, head bent and posture weirdly… Slumped when she catches his eye.

She raises her eyebrows at him without interrupting Orihime’s chatter. You good?

He shrugs, gives a weak smile and thumbs up before returning his attention back to his instrument.

Uh oh.

Ichigo Kurosaki does not do weak smiles… Or thumbs ups, for that matter.

It’s another few minutes before Rukia swings the door open, a bit of a sweaty mess and running out of breath.

“Hi all, I’m so sorry I--”

“You’re late.”

Everyone swings their attention to Ichigo, who observes their keyboardist stone-faced. The shocked silence that follows is short, but suffocating.

Rukia flushes before she blinks, raising her chin. “Yes. As I was saying… I’m sorry I’m running late, everyone. I had a lunch meetup with an old friend that went longer than expected. Please forgive me.”

“Chill, Rukia - you’re fine. You’re only five minutes over.” Tatsuki shoots a look at Ichigo, who’s still ruthlessly eye-ing daggers into Rukia.

What the hell…?

“... Whatever. Let’s just get started. Go over everything to catch back up to speed, and all that.” Ichigo plugs his guitar into the speaker, and Rukia nods as she quickly sets up her keyboard.

Practice from there is…

Like. It’s good. It is. Despite the long break, everyone is still on top of their shit: Tatsuki’s beats are muscle memory by now, and Chad is as on it as he ever was. Ichigo and Rukia are in perfect sync, per usual.

The energy, however, is another story. While there was always some sort of joy and excitement when they all played together, now it’s like the air is stiff, heavy. From behind, Tatsuki can see Rukia keeps trying to look at Ichigo during all the parts they usually harmonize together, to get some sort of connection.

Ichigo doesn’t even remotely glance her way the entire time.

They’re near done with the entire set when Ichigo clears his throat, turning to the rest of them. Urahara has joined them by this point, watching with an unreadable smile as ever.

“So… I think we should scrap Sun and Moon from our main set.”

Orihime lets out a soft gasp. Chad’s fingers accidentally let loose a note on the live bass. Tatsuki chokes on her spit.

“Sun and Moon? You mean our crowd pleaser? The one we always end shows with a bang on?”

“It’s not our only crowd pleaser, we’ve also got some other great ones. I’m just afraid it’s gonna be a one-hit wonder, ya know? And with that note…” He turns to Urahara. “What do you think about us going ahead and starting to write for our sophomore album?”

They gape at him.

Even Urahara raises his eyebrows. “That’s… Well. That was fast.”

“Is it? Our album is more like EP, anyway - just a little longer. Like a warm-up. And it’s good, of course I’m proud of it - everyone worked so hard on it - but, just… Why not start now? Why not take advantage of the momentum we’ve got going on?”

Rukia clears her throat. “Ichigo, that’s… We’ve got such a good grip on what we have -”

“I just think Soul Vibes is static for us. Outdated.” He quickly looks back at her before returning his attention to Urahara.

Rukia looks like she’s been slapped.

“I think we’re more dynamic now, even just in these few short months. And yeah it’s fast, but - we have time, right? To get started on writing?”

“I suppose so.” Urahara looks at Tatsuki and Chad, who both shrug. Something’s really off here, but Tatsuki sort of sees his point. It’s clear Ichigo’s raring to write something new… Why not?

“Sure, if you’d like, I can make some arrangements with the music studio. You and Rukia can go in there and--”

“Actually, I was thinking we can work on some stuff alone before presenting it to the group.” He stops Tatsuki when she begins to sputter. “Look, I know the whole reason for pairing Rukia and I for songwriting was to get us working as a team. But we’re fine now…”

Ichigo looks back at Rukia, and they share a look that’s so… Tatsuki doesn’t know what it is, but she sees Rukia swallow heavily in response.

“We’re fine now.” He repeats grittily. He starts again, stronger: “We collaborated on some cool shit, now I think it’s time to make it a little more diverse like I mentioned earlier. Have my songs, have her songs, have Chad’s songs if he still wants - all threaded together with Tatsuki’s beats. Why not?”

The room is quiet as they contemplate it. It’s not a bad idea, but…

Tatsuki glances over at Rukia, who’s looking down at her hands.

Urahara clicks his tongue.

“Well, Kurosaki, you raise a good argument. I don’t see why not, and I’m not hearing any objections… Just one thing: you’re not striking Sun and Moon quite yet. No arguments! Hear me out.” He stops Ichigo with a hand. “You’re not striking it until any of you come up with a song just as good, if not better. There’s power in that one, you can’t deny it. Make something as rock n’ roll as that and the team will talk. Let’s just… Keep each other in the know, all right?”

The band - Rukia included, albeit softly - agrees, and they start to pack up.

Tatsuki doesn’t know what’s going on; she’s always down for making more jams, she knows Ichigo and Rukia have got more up their sleeves, that Chad definitely deserves to put more of his stuff forward - but that… Look the two vocalists shared…

What happened that night after she left the bar?

She doesn’t have much time to wonder, however, because suddenly she’s shaken out of her thoughts when she hears Ichigo approaching Orihime about whether she wants to go out and get a couple of drinks.

Tatsuki’s heart is too busy falling to see Rukia’s stricken face.

#my stuff #ichiruki #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #do it for the band

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the-shiftshop · 5 years ago

Text

What’s In The Water?

Credits to @maleappreciasian for the pictures. Check is page out to appreciate more asian hunks.

"Jinho, thanks for inviting me.”

“No problem. I told you I’ll repay you soon enough. Now’s the time for that.”

“Naw, man. You didn’t have to go this far. Inviting me to your family’s farewell party? I ain’t part of your fam, man.”

“You treated me as a family when no one did at school, Daniel. Of course I’d treat you like that too.”

I just smiled back as I couldn’t disagree more. Jinho gave me an eye smile with his hand on his face and I couldn’t help but feel much calmer.

The story here is that Jinho was a transferee from Korea and he enrolled to our school to study for just a year, which was a bit unfortunate, although I know he would be happy for that. Jinho was bullied throughout the whole year for being Asian. I couldn’t see what’s wrong with being a different race, but students in our school didn’t think the way I did. I was the only person who approached Jinho, kindly. At first, he was kind of intimidated by me but I tried my best to connect with him. I started following him around, sitting with him at the cafeteria, studying around him at the library, and more. Soon Jinho got comfortable and I did all my best to protect him at all cost.

Today is the last day Jinho will stay here in the US. Since the party only accepts Jinho’s family members who live here in the state, he decided to sneak me in the venue in the morning. The party doesn’t start until 6 pm so we have the rest of the day for us to have fun together.

“Just drop us by the building, Gramps.” Jinho said to his driver as we approach the building. “And please make sure you won’t tell Mom or Dad.”

“Yeah of course I wont. I don’t want to ruin my favorite grandson’s last day here, right?” The man chuckled as he pull over by the sidewalk.

Jinho and I got out the car and he told me to enter the building as he would need a few word with his grandfather first, so I went in with my small backpack and sat on the sofa on the lounge. A few minutes later, Jinho came in with something in his hand. It looked like some sort of a small glass bottle with something shiny in it but I didn’t get a clear look at it as he hid it in his pocket. He pulled me by the arm and lead me to the elevator.

The elevator binged and the door opened. We entered and waited until we arrived at the highest floor. The door opened again and we got out and see the glory of the venue.

Jinho’s family was well prepared. The venue looked as if someone’s getting married today. There was a buffet on the side with a lot of tables for guests. Curtains fall down from the glass roof which made it look like a bit of a ceremony. There were tons of foods I’ve never seen before, and I quickly guessed that those were Korean foods.

There were people behind the buffet, most of them are still preparing for the party. These were also people fixing the curtains and tidying up the whole venue. What I’ve noticed though is that everyone were Asians. More specifically, Koreans. Jinho’s family was really picky with whom to let in the venue and it shows.

“Daniel.” Jinho called my name and I looked behind me. “Do you wanna eat first before we take a swim?”

“Ah... No. I’m full. Thanks.”

“Come on! At least just a few spoons. I want you to try my country’s dishes.”

I couldn’t really decline from Jinho. He’s very nice to me and all, and I can’t help myself but follow him. He grabbed me a plate from the buffet and got a few desserts and sides. Jinho told me what they are called whenever he get one. He got a few dumplings and placed them on the plate. On a small bowl, he poured some of those rice cakes with some sort of a spicy sauce. He also took a few of those vegetable rolls with rice wrapped in seaweed. After that, he guided me to the table.

“If you can’t use the chopsticks, here’s a fork.” He placed the plate and the utensils on the table and I sat down.

Jinho went back to the buffet to get me a drink. While he does so, I tried picking the dumplings with the metal chopsticks. It was very slippery and I always fall down the sticks. I gave up and proceeded in eating with a fork. I thought I wouldn’t enjoy the dumplings, but I finished all 8. There was something in the food that makes me want to try more. It might be because it’s very unique or, I may say, it have that unfamiliar taste. I then tried those rolls. I tried to pick it up with the fork but it only got the vegetables in the center, and eventually, the whole roll fell off, leaving only the radish, carrot and what seems to be a ham. I then decided to scoop it with the fork and put in it in my mouth. Again, it was delicious and I ended up eating everything on the plate. What were left were the spicy rice cakes.

I was really nervous at first. I never ate spicy food before. I never even tried putting sriracha on my food as well. This is basically my first time eating something intentionally spicy. I forked the rice cake and slowly placed it into my mouth. I chewed slowly at first, but soon, my tongue began to sting and I can’t help but chew faster. Though that didn’t help and I breathed heavily, trying to get the air cool down my mouth.

“Dan!” Jinho rushed to me with a glass of water. “I’m so sorry!”

“N-No. It’s fine.” I said as I drink water. Although it didn’t help that much, the icy feeling in my mouth eventually felt much better than having fire dancing in it. I fell back the support of my chair, trying to keep my tears from welling out my eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I thought you can handle it.”

“No, really. I’m fine! See? I have recovered already.” I said. “Bet I can actually finish this.” It was supposed to be a joke, but I still proceeded in getting another bite. As I chew down, I suddenly realized it wasn’t that spicy as before. I drank more water so wash down the small stinging in my tongue, then I took another rice cake. Soon, I can taste nothing but pure sweetness, though with a little bit of spice but it wasn’t that painful at all. “This is actually very good!”

I heard Jinho do a soft chuckle and stood up from his chair. “Glad you like it.” He then took of this shirt and exposed his skinny body. “Should we go and take a swim now?”

“I guess we can.”

I stood up and tried to take my shirt off. I then stopped for a bit, noticing that my shirt felt a little bit tighter than before. My eyes widened for a second but I just disregarded that and took it off.

Jinho jumped into the water of the pool. As for me, I couldn’t run to the pool. There’s something that feels off. I felt as if I’m slowly gaining weight. I felt much heavier by every second that passed by. I started to feel lightheaded as well. I got dizzy for a full minute and noticed as if the ground looked much farther than before. I noticed the black hair blocking my sight so I tried to comb it away with my fingers.

Wait... Black hair? As far as I know I have blo.... blon.... bl... black.... Yeah... What’s wrong with me today? Why do I feel so off?

I placed scratched my chest and felt them grew with muscles. My eye’s widened, but then I realized it wasn’t the same as how I used to make it big. My eyes felt much smaller. Back to my body, I looked down to see abs starting to form and my biceps starting to get gains.

I smirked. I guess my exercise routine is working... But... I haven’t went to the gym before...? No... I haven’t returned to the gym for a week...

“What the heck is wrong with-” I cut myself. I grabbed my neck and felt a much prominent bulge on my throat. Why did I thought of my voice weird? It’s supposed to be this deep... right?

“A-Ahhh...” A moan escaped my mouth as I felt something grow in my boxers. I suddenly felt so horny and my cock was hard.

Get a grip of yourself! Snap out of it, Da-... Dan...

“Hey, Daeho! Are you really just going to stand there?” Jinho called and I was brought back to reality.

Fucking hormones, suddenly doing this to me at this time of the day. I don’t want my brother to find me weird. I’m not gay and why am I feeling aroused around him? No. It’s just that I haven’t jacked off in a while. It’s not because of him. That’s weird!

“Wait a bit, okay? I’m technically 7 years older than you and being this old is giving me random nausea.” I shouted back... in Korean...

I grasped my mouth, but then again. What was weird about that? Of course I can speak fluent Korean. It’s not that I lived too long here in the USA to forget how to speak in my native language.

Fuck this. Maybe pool water will calm my mind down.

I slowly dipped into the water. I remembered my phone was in my pocket so I pulled it out and sat on the corner. I looked at me phone and saw my reflection on the black screen.

Right. Haha. Very funny, brain. Stop messing with me, making me think like I’m not Asian. I’m Daeho Park, 25 years old. A Korean in America.

Jinho swam near me and sat beside me under the sun.

“Bro. I’m so happy you’ll come back home with me.”

“Same, Jinho. Same.”

“I’m so thankful Grampa Timothee convinced you to make up with me.”

“Hey, Jinho. Let’s forget our problem before, okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jinho gave me one last smile before he splashed me with water.

“Hey! This jerk! My phone might get-”

“Then swim with me, you idiot!”

#age progression #body modification #racial change #gay to straight

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aghostlybao · 4 years ago

Note

🏳️‍🌈 boggie

anon, thank you so much for responding to my post!! i give you bobby's first ever pride, boggie style!

multicolored steps to bravery

warnings: none. however, if you do find anything you think are triggering then pls send me a msg and tag the reblogs accordingly. thank you!

navigating through one’s gender/sexuality is confusing and overwhelming, especially when you’re at an age where society expects you to have an established sense of self. it is absolutely okay to remain uncertain of what label, if any, suits you best. and it is also okay to change the label you’ve chosen to identify yourself as somewhere down the line or to forgo labels altogether.

or bobby watches his friends grow && celebrate their gender/sexuality with pride while he ends up even more confused && thinks that he's running out of time to figure out where he belongs.

writing below the cut. excuse my grammar, english is difficult af but i hope you enjoy it

multicolored steps to bravery

There were times Bobby felt like an outsider, an audience witnessing the growth of his friends rather than growing with them. While Alex found out about his sexuality at 12, Luke following right after, and Reggie two years later, but Bobby at 18, still didn’t know where he belonged in the gender and sexuality spectrum. And every year, as his friends went through heartbreaks, his own experience never went past an awkward peck on the lips during a spin-the-bottle game when he was 13. While they grew confident and proud, showcasing their gender and sexuality, and becoming supportive figures to the younger students at their high school since sophomore year; Bobby reeled back and firmly smiled as others labeled him as the token straight friend of the group.

But at 23, Bobby finally found the courage to join his friends at the annual pride festivities, while still being 100% unsure of his identity. Bobby lounged on the living room sofa, feet nonchalantly propped up on the coffee table, and munched on sliced green apples dipped in sriracha sauce as they put the finishing touches to their outfits.

Reggie stole the fruit out of his hand, “you okay?”

“Yeah, Reg.” He happily fed the bassist another slice, “just sleepy.” Bobby was grateful that Reggie remained quiet about the obvious lie that came out of his mouth.

Reggie did a 360-degree turn on the spot and wiggled his fingers when he came to a stop. “What do you think? Willie painted the back panel,” he turned away and showcased the very artwork he was talking about, a bass guitar in the colors of the bisexual flag. “Julie added the studs!”

His own outfit, dull and monotone, wasn’t even worth comparing against their elaborate looks.

Bobby tried, really tried not to entertain him not belonging, or that it affected him every time a stranger screamed in delight, gave them high fives, and with some going as far as giving hugs because of the colors that adorned their bodies. But it was difficult not to when they were bouncing with so much excitement that it made his head spin. Reggie’s presence didn’t even register until his hand received a comforting squeeze. “You okay, Bee?”

When had he stopped walking? Bobby mechanically smiled, forcibly making the outer corner of his eyes crinkle. “yeah dude, just got lost in my thoughts. We should catch up with them.” Neither of them moved from the spot.

Right before them were rows of pride flags varying in sizes and colors to represent the entire LGBTQIA+ community. The growing crowd turned into a blur of multicolored identities, from Alex and his partner, Willie in their rainbow splattered dungarees with the demisexual flag painted on one of Willie’s pant leg to Luke’s arms covered in swirls of pink, yellow, and cyan. And Reg, Reggie’s leather jacket customized with magenta, lavender, and royal blue studs, and the hand-painted bass guitar in the same colors was a stark contrast to his full black outfit.

“Reg?” Bobby still didn’t have the answer to the question he’s been asking himself since Alex came out to them at 12, “I don’t think I’m straight... or gay, or bi, or pan…” He continued when Reggie took hold of both his hands, a silent encouragement to keep going. “Actually, I have no clue what to identify as, not the way all of you do. I-I thought I was asexual but then I found out about its sub-identities, then people started referring to me as the token straight.”

Bobby rolled his shoulders back, lifting his head to return Reggie’s gaze. “I was hoping I’d have it all figured out by now but I’m thinking that it may never happen.” He briefly searched for any sign that he should stop talking but Reggie met uncertainty with a soft smile. “I like you.” He dropped to a squat, groaning in frustration. Talk about finesse. He swore under his breath, “I had this entire confession planned out, and I fu-And you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ve never heard you speak for long or look so scared. Remember that rottweiler living across the school and Luke dared me to go pet it?”

“Yeah, you cried and fainted.”

“Exactly!”

“I don’t get it…”

“That’s how I feel towards you!”

“You’re... scared of me?”

Reggie crouched down in front of him, beaming, “yeah! Wait. No! I was in the beginning, you were super cool and I told the guys that it was unfair how you owned the ‘haven’t slept but still hot’ look while I looked like a turtle every morning!” Halfway through his ramblings, the two of them had changed their position and comfortably sat crossed-legged in the middle of the street. Bobby was far too entranced to care about the looks of annoyance being thrown at them.

“My point is,” he pursed his lips, “I like you too, Bobby.” To prevent Bobby from countering, Reggie pushed his cheeks together, making him look like an inverted version of a pufferfish.

“And before you ask, it’s good enough for me. We don’t even have to put a label on it!”

“I don’t know... being called your boyfriend sounds nice.”

“It does?”

“Yeah, Reg.”

“Okay, boyfriend.”

“Ew.” Bobby quickly stood up, cackling as Reggie chased him through the multicolored crowd.

#anon response #jatp one shot #jatp au #boggie #bobby jatp #bobby supremacy #reggie peters #jatp drabble #boggie brain rot #jatp #just writing stuff #short one shot #astrowritings

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luvknow · 6 years ago

Text

not so bad | lee minho

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | friends-to-lovers ; roommates ; college au ; swearing ; alcohol consumption

summary: falling for your best friend isn’t the most ideal situation, but it’s not as bad as you think

wc: 13.7k

For most people, living with your best friend sounded like the most ideal situation - the absolute best and only option. Most people couldn’t even begin to think about living with anyone else. Think about it; endless nights staying up watching some shitty Netflix live-action adaptation of an anime, eating Chinese take-out on lazy Sunday evenings, going grocery shopping together? The list of things to do together was infinite! Who else would anyone want to do all the boring domestic stuff with other than their best friend?

But you, on the other hand, would rather be homeless.

“Wo~ow,” Minho scoffed when you rejected his generous offer.

The two of you sat in his newly-furnished, but still a bit empty, living room to take a break from unpacking and arranging all of his junk. About a month before the new semester started, Minho’s rich-ass uncle so graciously offered him one of his several houses just a couple bus stops away from campus. As long as Minho kept the place clean and maybe got a roommate or two to help pay the mortgage, then he was free to stay until he graduated. Of course, you were the first person he asked because the above statements spent with you sounded like so much fun.

Too bad you’re cold and heartless and wanted him to die alone.

“Why don’t you want to move in?” his asked, cheeks filled with lo mein. “Didn’t you just say you hated living at your place?”

“I didn’t say I hate it… I just hate that she brings a different guy over every other day.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. It sounds like normal roommate shit. It’s better than her being a slob, isn’t it?”

“I guess, but when it’s 2:00 am and I can hear EVERYTHING through the walls, I want to jump off the balcony.”

“Not everything.”

“I mean it, Minho. Everything.”

“Damn, invite me over next time.” You chuck a piece of your half-eaten fortune cookie and it hit him right on his bare forehead leaving a tiny scratch mark. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“Stop being weird!”

“If you hate hearing all that gross stuff all of the time, isn’t that all the more reason for you to come live with me?”

“No, because you’ll literally do the same thing!”

“Ok, you have way too much faith in me to think I’m going to bring someone home that often.”

“Hm, I do, don’t I…”

“C’mon, cheap rent, cool aesthetics, good company - what’s actually holding you back? Are you afraid you’ll fall in love with me?”

Minho held a single chopstick between his big bunny teeth and did that weird little smirk and wiggly brow combo that somehow caught the hearts too many girls back in your high school days. To this day, you were one of the lucky few who didn’t fall under his spell. The sriracha sauce stains on his cheek made him look EXTRA sexy.

“Why in the world would living with you mean I’d fall in love with you?” you asked, shoving a napkin to his cheek.

“Don’t girls like that corny domestic lifestyle shit? Coexisting in the same space, mutual seemingly-platonic hugs and cuddles, cooking together, and all that jazz?”

“You’re not even into all that jazzy stuff!”

“I like to cook!”

“And then what, I’m left with the dishes? I’ll be falling head over heels for you in no time.”

“That’s how mutualism works, silly! We each benefit from each other’s skills! Symbiosis, or whatever.”

A giggle left your lips from his expanded vocabulary. Who knew he knew so many words with more than two syllables?

“Those are some complicated words. I take it you like Biology 101?” you asked.

“I do! It’s super cool! Did you know in most species, the male is known to be the more colorful and prettier one and not the females? And the males compete with each other and the females are the ones choosing the prettiest, strongest male?”

“I did not know that.”

“Well, it’s true. It’s called sexual selection - it’s like peacocking.”

“Sounds like some shit you do with all your name brands and stuff.”

“Please, like other guys could even compare to my train of feathers.”

In the end, after days flowed into weeks of begging you to come live with him in what he called his playboy penthouse, he reluctantly accepted your rejection and was off to beg one of his other friends because there was no way in hell could he afford this place alone. Though ideally Minho wanted to be roommates, having you visit often was close enough. It’s just… asking you to move in with him was not about helping him with rent in the least. He truly, genuinely wanted to do dumb domestic chores, bicker all day, and have those deep, late-night talks with you whenever he could. Wouldn’t it be so fun if he annoyed you and followed you around every waking minute of the day?

Doing all of those things to half the extent would be just enough for now. His favorite activities with you were anything involving food. Even grocery shopping, normally one of his least favorite and most stressful chores by himself, was tolerable with you around because you knew just the right cuts of meat and what ingredients were needed for the perfect meal.

“Why did you pick so many vegetables? I’m not a rabbit…” the seemingly twelve year old next to you pouted. Like an angsty teenager, he used the cart as a means of support and followed closely behind with a pout on his lips as you dumped vegetable after vegetable into the cart.

“You kind of look like one, though.”

“Are you callin’ me cute?”

“I’m calling you a nuisance.”

“A cute nuisance, right?”

“Oh, my God, you’re so annoying.”

But soon the semester would start and your day would no longer be spent with him, it’d be spent at the library either studying or tutoring the dumb freshmen. Before you ask, yes, he was jealous of all the other people who took up your time and yes, he’s very clingy. You could see where Soonie, Doongie, and Dori all got their bad habits from. Normally, with any other guy including some long-term boyfriend, you’d be tired and annoyed if they were anything like Minho. But only the real Minho could get away with texting you so often and wondering why you weren’t baking brownies with him at ten at night.

Things weren’t easy on your end, either. You barely had time for yourself and it was only the first round of midterms for the semester! All you ever did these days was wake up, eat, school, eat some more if and ONLY IF you had time, and finally sleep… sometimes. This routine included the weekends, too. You offered for Minho to join you in the library for a study sesh nearly every day, but he’d rather die than sit in germ-infested chairs that are never sanitized, so yeah, you don’t get to see him face-to-face very often anymore. Facetime and Skype would have to do for now.

But then all that lost time started to catch up with you. You’d often come home late, especially if you knew your roommate had someone over to do their thang, and before you could flop on your couch to take a breather, it was completely missing from the living room because your roommate packed up all of her shit and left! Without even telling you! How rude, right!? Until you found a note on the coffee table that said, ‘I moved out today! Sorry if this is such short notice… You haven’t been home the past couple of weeks for me to tell you in person and I didn’t want to break it to you in text…’

Ok, so you wouldn’t say you were totally not at fault for this considering she was considerate enough to want to tell you about moving out in person, but didn’t she think to at least text you like… a couple of days before she did it!? Your lease was supposed to renew tomorrow, but now there wasn’t enough time to find a last-minute roomie on the college forum-version of craigslist and you didn’t make enough money to pay for the rent solo, so now you were almost homeless.

So that’s how you ended up in front of Minho’s place at half-past midnight on the dot with your big stuffed bear in your arms and a cheeky, adoring smile on your guilty-written face. You must have woken him up because his fluffy hair was sticking up in all directions, his eyes were barely open, and… he was shirtless…

“I’m not interested in your Girl Scout Cookies,” he mumbled tiredly.

“I wish I was selling those, then maybe I wouldn’t be here…”

“What do you mean?”

“Guess who wants to be your roommate ~!” you sang cheerfully.

“No.”

“Wha-? Why not!?”

“I already have one.”

“Who!?”

“Changbin,” he said, shooting his thumb to the small lazy boy lounging on the couch. Wasn’t he rich as fuck also? What does he need to live here for?

“‘Sup,” Changbin greeted, unable to look away from the television.

“Don’t you have one more room in this place? I’ll even sleep in a closet if I have to,” you pouted tiredly. You were ready to ring in the water works if you had to because if Minho rejected you one more time, your tears were ready to flow.

“Whoa, you’re that desperate, huh? What happened?”

“Roommate moved out, I couldn’t find another one, cried and contemplated life for a little bit, and now I’m here.”

“Damn, that is pretty bad…”

“Yeah, so as you can see, I really need you right now.”

Minho knew you were never one to rely on people, no matter how close you two were. For as long as he could remember, you always did everything on your own. So for you to say that you needed him, you must have really meant it. Your words were soft and quiet, your gaze set on the porch you stood on, and of all things he hated, seeing you so upset and stressed like this was among his top five on the list. How could he turn you away when this was a time you needed him the most? He knew if he were in your position, you’d welcome him in without hesitation.

You sighed tiredly, pushing your pride aside to ask a friend a favor. “So could you spare another roommate? Just until I can get back on my feet again?”

“Hm…” Minho fake-contemplated, rubbing his scruffy chin. “You know, normally I would never do this, but since you’re my friend, I GUESS I could let you stay here until you’re set.”

“If it’s too much trouble, or if you don’t want me here, I can go -”

“No! You’ll stay here with me for as long as you’d like.” A half-naked but jolly Minho smothered you in a bone-crushing hug. Even though touching so much surface area of his skin made you cringe, his hug made you feel more at home than your apartment could ever make you feel.

“Don’t ever assume I don’t want you here, dumbass. I’ll always welcome you with my open, naked, buff arms.”

“Ugh, this is so gross.” Regardless, you returned his hug with equal force. You never felt safer. “Thank you. I seriously owe you one.”

“Anything for my girl. Where’s all your stuff?”

“Yeah, that sounded more like a tomorrow problem, but I came here tonight because I was lonely.”

“Ha ha, you miss me ~”

“Just a little.”

“Since you’re already here, just stay the night. We can order food and start our big, happy, poly-domestic partnership right now.”

“For the love of God, please do not say that aloud in public…”

“No promises.”

Minho dragged you into the only other bedroom that wasn’t occupied and you’re pretty sure it was just as big as your living room. It was pretty much furnished with all of the basics, so you’re lucky that you won’t have to bring too many heavy things in the morning. As you were admiring the room, a finally fully-clothed Minho chucked his pajamas at you.

“You can wear these for tonight,” he said.

“Ew! Why did you give me your boxers!?”

“I thought my pants would be too long on you?”

“I’m not wearing wearing these.”

“So ungrateful… My sweatpants are in my room in the drawer. Go nuts.”

Minho left you alone to go order food for his two favorite pals while you were left to your own devices in the room where the magic happened, as he called it. For a dude, you knew he was on the cleaner side, but his bedroom was a lot tidier than you expected. There weren’t any clothes on the floor, all of his accessories were placed neatly by the mirror, and the only thing out of place was his blanket that was jumbled up in the corner of his bed. You suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over you for disturbing his beauty sleep, but like you said at the door, you owed him one. Well, maybe more than one… like, a dozen ones…

While looking through the drawers for pants, you rolled your eyes at the site of all the name brands embroidered near the pockets. The logos were strictly swooshes and SUPREME. An opportunity to wear matching sweatpants and hoodie that were worth more than your textbooks didn’t come very often, so you chose the heather gray pair. Just as you slipped your head through the top, Minho came in to check on you.

“I ordered chicken, I hope that’s cool - whoa!” Minho burst into a fit of giggles at the site of his his already-oversized sweats looking extra oversized on you. You’ve worn his hoodies before and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way you look in them. You’re just so cute.

“You look like a jumbo toasty marshmallow.”

“I wouldn’t say jumbo… and marshmallows aren’t gray.”

“Same difference. Are you ready yet? Changbin’s gonna drink your beer if you don’t come out sooner.”

“That little -! He’s such a roach!!”

You sprinted out of the bedroom and hopped over the empty side of the couch, scaring the boy dressed in all black who was just trying to eat his chips and watch How to Get Away With Murder in peace. You didn’t know him as well as you knew Minho, but you two hung out within the same circle enough to be comfortable around each other so living with him shouldn’t be TOO terrible. Luckily, your drink looked like it hadn’t been touched.

“So are you like, living here living here?” Changbin asked with fake disgust in his tone.

“Yeah, so get used to it.”

“Just when I thought I’d get Minho all to myself…”

“What are you doing here, anyways? Aren’t you also like, super dumb rich? You could probably buy this whole building.”

“No, my parents are super dumb rich. I, on the other hand, barely have a dime to my name until I graduate law school.”

“Oh yeah, you changed your major right?”

“Yeah, and let’s just say my parents weren’t too happy about that… Thankfully, my favorite hyung here has so graciously let me into his home ~”

“Yeah yeah…” Minho mumbled, squeezing himself in the middle. “Anything’s better than being alone in this place, even if it means housing you two rats.”

“Hey, you said you’d always welcome me here, so that’s your fault for agreeing,” you argued.

“Love you, babe ~” Changbin sang.

Once the chicken arrived, your night of being welcomed to the penthouse had only begun. The rest of the evening was spent talking about literally anything your tipsy and dumb brains could conjure up. From crying about school, to praying to the stars, and telling Changbin stories about yours and Minho’s prepubescent days, you could already predict your days living here would make your heart full.

“I bet you’re single, huh, _____?” Changbin said suddenly after popping open his third beer.

A conversation about each other’s love lives was probably the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially when alcohol was involved, but your mouth started talking before your brain could process.

With a pout on your lips, you retorted, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Because what person would be ok with having their girlfriend living at another dude’s apartment and with me as the other roommate?”

“If you already knew the answer, why bother asking?”

“I just wanted to confirm in case you and I accidentally fall in love.”

“I’ll evict both of you before I let that happen under my roof.” Minho slurred.

“What is with you and Minho and the whole roommates falling in love trope? Is that a common thing? Have you two been watching dramas since you started living together?”

“So what if we have!?” Changbin yelled.

“They’re not realistic, you know.”

“It’s called a drama for a reason.”

“I feel sorry for the next person you end up dating.”

“Yeah, me too.” Changbin took a huge, final chug of his beer before crushing it in his hands. So macho… “All right, I guess it’s time I pass out. See you guys in the morning. Don’t get too crazy while I’m asleep.”

“Nighty night.”

You and Minho were left in the quiet living room snuggled up in your own blankets. You thought the silence was comfortable, as you’ve spent enough time with him that not a word said in between for long periods of time was just fine, but by the look on his face you could tell something was up. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe he was just tired, but his eyes never left the random spot on the coffee table for a solid five minutes.

You threw a potato chip at his cheek.

“Hm?” he hummed, surprisingly unphased. His tired eyes turned to look at you questioningly.

“What’s on your mind, my Prince?” The origin of the beloved nickname was from the time you dared him to try out for the high school play as the leading role and to your excitement and his dismay, he was passed the audition. He’d never admit it to your face, but he kind of enjoyed the spotlight and popularity for a while, and he never lets you forget how much he loved that nickname.

You managed to crack a smile from him and your worries began to fade away. “I was just thinking about something.”

“‘Bout what?”

“What Changbin said - what if you end up really liking someone and they’re not ok with you living with two hot and sexy guys?”

“Well, he can either get over it or I’ll dump him.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Remember that pact we made our first year of high school? The one where we pinky promised each other that no matter what, we wouldn’t let anyone come in between us?”

“Of course I do, but we were like what, fourteen? That was so long ago!”

“So?”

“So what I mean is…”

The ruggedly handsome boy beside you sighed deeply like he was ready to tell you something important. He laid his heavy hands on your shoulder and pulled you close so that you had all of your attention on him and not the fact that there was only two inches between your faces and that he smelled like alcohol. Was his skin always this clear? What the hell was his skincare routine? The blush on your cheeks continued to glow brighter as his eyes bore deep into your own, like he was searching for an answer to a question that only you held the answer to. He must admit that your shy side made you look so cute. Each second that passed was more intimate than the last and you so wished that he’d tell you what the hell was up with him already because your inadvertent breath-holding from the close proximity was making you light-headed. This felt like one of those scenes in those corny dramas that Minho watches - was he about to… dare you say… kiss you…?

Then you figured Minho learned a thing or two in drama class because his serious persona flew out the window when he shook you roughly by the shoulders, but at least you could breathe freely again.

“You shouldn’t have to choose between me and someone you like ~!” he whined childishly. “If he doesn’t like you living here, and you really like him, I don’t want you to be stuck in the middle!”

“Minho, you idiot, you’re the sole reason I’m not homeless and dying on the street, so what the hell do you want me to do IF that ever happens!? Move out!?”

“Ah, I didn’t think about it that way…”

“Lee Minho,” you emphasized to the pouty boy. “If - if - I meet someone I like, and they don’t like that I’m living with two guys, then fine, I can understand that and feelings like that can easily change over time. But if he can’t understand that you’re my best friend, that I cherish our friendship more than anything, and thinks there’s something else going on, then that’s when I’ll dump him. So there’s no need for you to worry that I have to choose between those two, ok?”

Minho sighed once more, breathing out all his worries about you being alone forever and stuck being a hermit in his apartment. “Ok, I believe you.”

“God, you’re so weird! Since when did my love life matter to you?”

“We’re nearing graduation, _____. We’re not getting any younger! And look, we’re both STILL single as a pringle…”

“When you and I are twenty-five and alone, unemployed and rotting away in this very room, then that’s when we’ll cry about it. But for now, we gotta worry about graduating.”

“I know. I just want you to be happy ~” With crocodile tears in his big, curious eyes, he pulled you in for a bone-crushing hug. It reminded you of all the times you told him not to touch you because he was being too sappy or he was sweaty and proceeded to hug you tighter anyways. Those were the best hugs.

“Shut up, I am happy.”

“Good.”

“What about you, hm? What if a girl you like sees that I live here?”

“Easy - I’ll just say you’re the housekeeper.”

“… You’re going to make one dumb girl very happy one day.”

“You think so?” he asked sincerely. “You really think I could make someone happy one day?”

There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to tell Minho how much happiness and sunlight he brought into your life. From the minor inconveniences to the darkest days, Minho was always your only source of light. You were way too tired to even attempt to be cheesy with him and closed your eyes instead, relaxing into his tight hug and hoping sleep would find you sooner rather than later.

“I know so, Lee Know.”

You stayed in Minho’s arms while the hum of the television and rhythm of his heart lulled you to sleep. Your favorite boy was content with where he was - holding you in his arms and stroking your hair until you were asleep and you didn’t have to worry about school, moving out, and whether this was mutually platonic or anything but. He thinks that there’s no way that ordinary best friends could lay like this and not cause any sort of tension in between. Then again, you two were extraordinary at best, so maybe the standard rules didn’t apply. To an unknowing passerby, this scene might look like two people in love who couldn’t get enough of each other. If Changbin came to see this, he’d probably think the same thing.

In the end, Minho wouldn’t care what anyone thought if they saw. It didn’t matter because this just felt so… right.

He’ll question his tugging heartstrings some other time.

Minho ended up carrying your sleeping form to your room. After tucking you in and resisting the urge to crawl onto the open space beside you, he thinks to himself that he could get used to this.

There was no way you could get used to this.

For such a huge place, only one of the two bathrooms had a shower. Which seemed fine, right? Considering there were only three of you living there. But you totally forgot that you lived with two of the most high-maintenance men you’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. Minho wasn’t as bad as Changbin because he didn’t spend an hour moisturizing his entire body and fixing his hair - he only took half an hour. But you know that weird thing guys do when they take a dump they take an extra half hour just to play phone games or scroll through social media? So think about it, two boys who are mildly-to-severely high maintenance took a total of almost three hours using the damn bathroom.

That wasn’t even the worst of it! Other than the night you told Minho you were moving in, you guys haven’t had any fast food since. The two of them were watching their weight and muscle progress together so their diet strictly cut out carbs and the good stuff which meant the fridge was filled with veggies and brown grains you couldn’t even pronounce.

And even then, that wasn’t the worst. The absolute worst was when Minho would text you or call you at nine on the dot every single night that you weren’t home at that time. First, he’d call, and half of the time you would answer, but when you didn’t, he’d spam your messages until you replied with a pin drop of your location.

Tonight was the last straw.

“Stop calling,” you scolded while walking home from the library.

“So Changbin and I are in the mood for pizza and we figured you wanted some. You must be tired of all the quinoa,” he explained, ignoring your scolding. “Where are you?”

What’s the best way to spook Minho but not to the point where he’d call the police and demand an amber alert?

“I can’t right now. I’m with a guy.”

There’s a slight pause on the other end and something that sounded like he dropped something on the floor. You can hear Changbin’s faint ‘bro, what the hell!’ in the background and Minho heard you stifle a giggle.

“What? A guy? Who?”

“No one you know. I’ll see you when I get home ~!”

“Wait -”

You hung up before Minho could get another word in and you instantly regretted it. Once Minho found out you were kidding, he was probably going to relieve you of your pizza privileges and force you to eat more quinoa as punishment. You would hate it initially, but if there was even a slight chance that this made your message to him to stop worrying and calling you all the time crystal clear, then you’d eat bowls upon bowls of it and get all the grains stuck between your teeth because that’s how worth it it’d be.

What the hell had gotten into him, anyways? He was never like this in high school. If anything, HE was the boy you’d sneak out with, doing dumb hooligan things with, and being too close for comfort with - he was the boy he was trying to protect you from. Not even your parents were this protective, but you had to give him credit for being so diligent.

You weren’t too far from home, so you left Minho’s texts all on read until you stepped through the door. Changbin wasn’t surprised in the least that you were joking, and Minho knew you couldn’t have possibly be truthful about that, either, but he stepped out the door and scanned the hallways just to make sure you weren’t actually with some creep. You took this moment to sneak a slice or three before Minho could hoard the whole pie.

“I can’t believe you fell for that,” you teased, cheeks filled with cheese.

“I can’t believe you would joke about that.”

“I can,” Changbin muttered.

“What made you guys buy pizza?”

“A man can only eat salads and white chicken for so long. We deserve this.”

“We all deserve this. I wasn’t even on a diet in the first place, I was forced into it.”

“Yeah, but you look great at least, so you’re welcome.”

“Whatever.”

Sure, there were a lot of inconveniences when it came to living with two dudes who annoyingly functioned the same, but you would take on this form of entertainment over television any day. So yeah, Minho was annoying like ninety percent of the time… but he was just being a good friend and worrying about you.

It was nice to be cared for once in a while. Minho was the only one who would go out of his way just for you. Whether it was picking you up in the middle of the night from some party to walk you home or scolding you harshly about how you should wear scarves more so you wouldn’t get sick while making you a hot bowl of soup made with love, he never made you feel like you were an inconvenience. This curfew thing was a little over the top, though.

Changbin went to his room after whining about being a law student and how hard it was that he had to wear a suit everyday to his internship, leaving you and Minho alone at the kitchen table. The kitchen was were you spent most of your time together, whether it was using the table to eat, play dumb board games, or as one big desk to study on. Tons of late-night studying, gossiping, and snacking were spent at this table with Minho sitting across from you every time.

“It’s been about a month since you moved in, right?” he asked, plucking a pepperoni off of your slice. “How do you like it so far?”

There’s a short silence in the air before you answered. It was a little worrying, so he kicked you under the table to make you answer faster. How dare you not immediately answer with anything other than ‘I fucking love it’? “Besides only having five minutes to shower every morning, forced to go vegetarian, and having a 9:00 PM curfew? It’s better than being homeless, that’s for sure.”

“Good.” Another short pause, followed by Minho shyly avoiding eye contact. “It’s a lot of fun having you around.”

“Really? I don’t scare any poor souls you try to bring home?”

“To be honest, I haven’t been trying.”

“Whoa, Minho the slut taking a hiatus!?” you teased, earning you a crumpled napkin to the face.

“Shut up.”

“Why the sudden disinterest?”

His shoulders did a tiny shrug as if letting you know that even he was unsure of why. He hoped you’d help him find the answer. “No one catches my eye these days, I guess.”

“You’re such a liar.”

“It’s true!”

“Yeah, ok…”

“Well, what about you, huh? Has your boy-crazy self found someone interesting?”

You take a big, defeated bite into the leftover crust, allowing you to exploit your anger through vigorous chewing. Your efforts have obviously gone to a waste. “You and Changbin always like to remind me that I’m single.”

“I simply asked if you found anyone hot.”

“You know what’s sad? I haven’t…”

“Ah, I see - Changbin and I made your standards too high now, huh?”

“Both of you are probably stashing the hot guys in the gym somewhere because you know I won’t find them.”

“Damn, you caught us.”

“You know what else is sad, though?” Minho had to suffer and watch you sip your cola with your sad, pouty lips. It wasn’t that he felt bad, or anything, you just looked so… self-pitying. He’s seen this look way too often during your first year of college when some other chick would swoop in a steal the guy you had your eyes on. “Even if I did like someone, I don’t think I would act on it.”

“Why the hell would you cockblock yourself like that?”

“I’ve never been on a legitimate date before!”

“You’re such a damsel. You’ve totally been on a date before.”

“Senior prom with Hyunjin doesn’t count.”

“You guys had dinner and some dancing, doesn’t that count?”

You ignored your idiot friend’s justification and would much rather feel sorry for yourself than to consider prom as a legitimate date. You’re what, nearly into your twenties now and have gone this long without a guy properly asking you out on a date, maybe a movie and eating dinner at a nice restaurant with a small bouquet of flowers next to you, and ending the night with a kiss? The thought of your inadvertent abstinence made you want to chug a bottle of something strong.

“Do we still have that bottle of wine lying around?” you muttered, searching every corner of the kitchen. “Aha! Found it.”

“Mm, pizza and old wine. How are you single again? You’re so classy.”

“Do you want a glass or not?”

“… Hand it over.”

So another night was spent drinking and drowning your sorrows away while Minho watched - what else was new? Before, he didn’t think much of these nights, considering they were spent with Changbin also who drank just as much as you did, but Minho hadn’t even finished his first glass yet when you were already pouring your third. You must have been really going through it.

“Ok, I think that’s enough,” Minho scolded, taking the glass away. Clumsily and lazily, you reached out to take it back, but your state of mind was too loopy for you to fight back further. God, your tolerance had gone down significantly as time passed. Was this indication that you were getting old?

“Is this how you’re going to act on your first date at dinner while having several glasses of wine?” the mean boy across teased. “Good luck with that.”

“That’s ok, I’m never going on a first date, anyways.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because who would want to date me?”

“Hey.”

Your eyes are droopy and you feel like you could pass out from the drowsiness of the wine at any second, but Minho’s hand on top of yours snaps you awake. There were plenty of ways you and Minho shared skinship, like hugging, wrestling, high-fiving, and punching each other, but hand-holding was not one of them. It was… weird. You know when cats sometimes put their tiny paws on top of human hands? This was what it reminded you of and you had to hold in your laughter.

“Don’t say that stuff about yourself, only I can do that.”

“Well, there has to be a reason why I haven’t been on a date yet. It’s because I’m unlovable, right? Besides, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was on a real date. Like what do we talk about? The weather? That’s what adults talk about, right?”

“Yeah, if you work a nine-to-five at an accounting firm. You really are kind of hopeless, aren’t you? That’s ok, you and I can practice.”

“Practice?”

“Yeah, practice on me. Pretend you and I are on a date.” Minho left his seat across from you to steal Changbin’s seat that was to your right. The proximity of your bodies was so close that your knees knocked together, but your tipsy best friend was too distracted by your challenge to care. “A~and boom, we’re on a date.”

“Right now?”

“Right now. Look, we got our glasses of wine on hand, some dinner, we could even watch a movie if you want. But first thing’s first, we gotta test out your communication skills. What kind of things would you ask or talk about on your date?”

“I guess… What do you major in -?”

“Pause, red flag number one: never talk about school. Next question.”

“U-Uh, what kind of music do you like…?”

“Better. Let’s pretend that I’m some snobby older rich dude and I say, ‘oh, today’s music doesn’t interest me. I prefer classical music such as Bach and Beethoven, you know?’”

“I would never go on a date with someone so pompous and old.”

“Ok, but let’s say you’re dating this guy for money.”

“Minho!”

“At the rate this fake date is going, this is what your future dates are going to look like, _____! I’m just helping you prepare!”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but… you’re so right. I’m gonna end up as a sugar baby and I’ll be too hyped up about the influx in my bank account that I’ll drop out of college and make this my career!”

“Whoa, I didn’t say that -”

“I can’t believe this is what all my hours in the library have amounted to! Screw good grades, if I can’t find love, then what’s the point! This is it - this is how my life is really going to be like -!”

What Minho said goes in one ear and out the other as both of your hands are tangled in the mess of your hair and your blood pressure is suddenly through the roof. You were making a huge deal out of this fake date but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t make a huge deal out of nothing! If this was how you were on a fake date, Minho doesn’t want to know how you’d be on a real date.

The first thing you hear is his boyish laugh as he removed your hands from your head before you could tear out your hair. You look like you have a bird nest on both sides of your pouty face and even though Minho thought you were being ridiculous, you still looked cute regardless. His tiny but warm hands smoothen your messy strands before holding your face. It’s hard to look him in the eyes after your mini breakdown and he didn’t make it easier by the way his thumbs caressed your cheeks. Was he doing this on purpose because he liked to see you squirm? You didn’t think so when you finally looked up.

Minho didn’t have his signature sly smile where the corners of his lips curled like a cheshire cat. There was no teasing twinkle in his eyes that normally accompanied it, either. Both were softer, like he couldn’t understand why someone as charming, intelligent, and hilarious as you could constantly worry about finding someone who would love you back. How could someone not, when you had the stars in your eyes after spotting a dog across the street, when you could sing an entire concert setlist in the shower, or when you had the cute sad look on your face after you burned your third pancake? Even now, in your tipsy and sad state, your eyes still sparkled and begged to be loved - exactly like all the cute puppies you spotted on your walks with Minho. The thought of someone NOT falling head over heels for you sounded completely ridiculous.

Before his heart could drop to the pit of his stomach, Minho broke the intimacy by squishing your cheeks so hard that your lips puckered like a fish.

“Stop being so sad,” he said sternly.

“Just like that, the sadness is gone,” you sputtered sarcastically, careful not to spit in Minho’s eye.

“I mean it. You’ll find someone who loves you just as much as you love them. No, you’ll find someone who loves you more.”

“How do you know…?”

“Because I’m Lee Know, remember?”

His cocky smirk returned and the corners of his lips curled adoringly. It was a smile you were more accustomed to and you’d never admit it aloud, but you liked this one much better. Soft Minho was kind of gross.

“You’re intelligent, selfless, sometimes funny, and life would be so exciting to be in love with you. I promise you’ll find someone.”

“… Tell me I’m pretty.”

“Wow, I put so much heart into my speech and that’s all you got out of it!? That I didn’t call you pretty!?”

“All of that doesn’t matter if I’m not cute.”

Minho squeezed your cheeks a bit harder. “Nevermind, you’re hopeless.”

“Ow ok, I’m kidding! Can you let go of my face now!? You know I bruise easily!”

He released his hold on your face and you tried to circulate the blood that pooled up. Minho usually wasn’t good with these types of talks, but something must have changed after high school. What kind of classes was he taking that he was being so poetic to the point that your heart felt like it was fluttering? Must be the bit of wine left in your bloodstream.

Even so, you were thankful. What would you do without your handsome Prince?

“I guess I’ll try to sleep the hopelessness away,” you sighed. Before heading off to your room, you wrapped your arms tightly around your best friend’s neck from behind and pressed your rosy cheek to his own. Normally, he’d let out a grossed-out groan, but tonight he returned the gesture with his hands on top of yours. “I love you, you know that, right?”

His chest ached. “Mhm. Love you, too, pretty girl. Sweet dreams.”

“You too, my Prince. Don’t stay up too late.”

The sound of your door closing triggered an empty silence in the entire apartment. Not a single sound is heard other than Minho’s beating heart that felt like it was blasting in his ears. Now he’s alone sitting at the dining table, downing the last of his wine and all he could think about was your lack of presence and how it lingered casually all around him. He could still feel your cheeks in his hands, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and the way the warmth of your cheek heated up his own. That wasn’t enough - he wanted more of you, but that was for a later time even he couldn’t predict. After cleaning up the table and trying to leave those moments in the dining room, they ended up following him to his bed until he was too tired to stay awake thinking about them.

That night, you ended up dreaming about Prince Minho and what it was like to be by his side forever.

It didn’t seem so bad.

There’s this crazy phenomenon that happened to you too many times to count, but this time had to take the cake. There were times when you’d have dreams about not necessarily random people, but people you didn’t normally associate yourself with. Like an old coworker, or a past partner for that one single assignment, or even that one time the guy next to you asked you to borrow a pencil for an exam. They would appear in your dreams at random with no purpose other than to play as your boyfriend, but the morning you wake up, you had this sudden weird… attraction towards them.

Maybe attraction wasn’t exactly the right word, but the moment they stepped into the room, you could feel your face heat up and your palms sweat and it really made you question your type in men because why was your body reacting so sensitively to seeing someone who literally just asked you for a pencil? Maybe this was why you’ve been single for so long…

Now let it be reminded that you’re having these weird, little crushes on guys you practically considered strangers. But now, for the first time in your entire life - in all your years knowing that stupid, handsome idiot, you had your very first dream about Minho. If you acted like a fool in front of strangers, how did you act around your best friend? Let’s just say you didn’t know how to act… or rather, you did what you do best - make things like ten times more awkward than they should be.

What did you do when Minho woke up in the morning with his stupidly cute bedhead and flopped on the couch next to you muttering a soft and gentle ‘good morning ~’? You got up and ran to your room after returning the greeting with a squeaky voice. What did you do when he would wrap his arm around your shoulder in that sly, boyish way that literally meant nothing? You’d run to the bathroom, whether you were at home or out in public.

And what did you do when he would walk out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel around his waist? You literally ran. You went to your room, put on your workout gear, and you ran - ran as far as your legs could take you with your ears blasting music to drown out any thoughts about your best FRIEND.

With his heart sinking, Minho didn’t know what to do.

“Hey, have you seen _____ these past few days?” he asked Changbin sometime around dinner. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand and he made sure he gave himself enough time to ask Changbin for his opinion before you came home.

“Yeah…? I see her like everyday. She lives here, too, you know.”

“I know, but she seems a little distant lately, right?”

“Mm, not with me,” the buff boy shrugged casually. His once unquestioning expression quickly turned into something sly when he realized what kind of situation Minho was in. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.”

“The last thing we did together for more than five minutes was eat pizza and drink wine and that was last week.”

“Did anything happen after drinking wine? We all know how you get when you drink…”

“Mm… she was moping about how she’s never going to go on a date, or something, and then I told her she doesn’t have to worry.”

“Why doesn’t she have to worry?”

It was then that Minho figured maybe this was the reason why you were avoiding him. Shyly, the older boy avoided the teasing gaze from his close friend. “N-No reason.”

“Is it because you told her how wonderful she is? Or how funny, and smart, and how all men were idiots for not falling head over heels for her ~?”

“Shut up.”

“I bet you called her pretty, too.”

“Ok, she made me say that!”

“God, no wonder she’s avoiding you! You probably made her fall head over heels for you, or something!”

“… You really think so?” he asked, hoping he didn’t sound too hopeful at the idea.

Thankfully, Changbin didn’t seem to catch it. “If I heard that kind of corny stuff coming from you, I’d react the same way, to be honest.”

The sound of the door unlocking made both boys jump and quickly drop the subject, but not without Changbin shooting Minho a ‘we’ll discuss this later’ glance that reminded him of his dad whenever he got in trouble. For the first time that week, you didn’t sprint to your room right away. Rather, with a cheeky grin on your lips, you joined the two boys who eyed you suspiciously at the dining table.

“What?” you asked innocently.

“Nice to finally see you for more than five minutes,” Minho pouted childishly.

“Aw, you miss me ~?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Why are you so smiley, missy?” the smaller, more suspicious boy squinted.

“I can’t be happy on this fine Thursday?”

“No.”

“Fine, you downer. I’m super stoked because guess who has a date tomorrow ~?”

A short silence fell at the table. The first ten seconds of silence was so the two idiots could process what you just said. The following ten seconds was just a series of different ugly facial expressions from thinking about the question too hard.

“Did Seungmin finally ask that one person out? He’s been talking about it for months, he won’t shut up,” Changbin asked.

“No, not him…”

“Woojin? He’s not really the dating type, though.”

“No, idiot, me! I have a date tomorrow!”

“With who?” Minho finally asked. Of course he knew you were the one with the date, but he didn’t want to believe it until you said it. The rest of the conversation didn’t matter after you told him who it was.

“This guy named Wooyoung in one of my classes. We worked on a project together sometime last year and I just found him in lecture the other day. Small campus, huh? We caught up this past week and he asked me out just now after walking me home. Ah, I can’t believe it!”

Your smile was bright and so big that Minho could hardly see your eyes. He couldn’t recall a time when you were this excited for something since you and him both got accepted to this school. He was happy to see you like this, despite the circumstances. With your eyes all sparkly and cheeks blushed pink, the bit of aching was worth it.

“Oh, I know Wooyoung!” Changbin had a goofy smile when he saw how disappointed you looked. “His dad and my dad are close friends and we got close by coincidence.”

“Aw man, you know him!? I wanted to date someone not within this weird circle of friends!”

“He’s not! He’s like a little bubble outside of the circle.”

“Whatever… he’s nice and rich, at least.”

“Now I know where your priorities lie. Minho, what do you think?”

“Hm?” You raised a curious brow at your spacey friend. Minho had been in his own little world after blocking out the details of how you ended up with a date tomorrow night. He put on a fake smile so you wouldn’t have to worry. “I don’t know Wooyoung, but I’m happy for you.”

“I’m kind of scared… what if I blow it like our fake date?”

“Good thing it was fake, right?” The handsome boy across from you ruffled your hair into a bird’s nest style - much like how it was last week. You were a mess, but you were his pretty little mess. “Don’t sweat it. You’ll do just fine.”

“Yeah, Wooyoung may be rich, but his standards aren’t that high - ow! What the hell, dude!” he whined, rubbing his bruising shin.

“You two are so mediocre when it comes to these pep talks… but thank you. I’m so excited that my cheeks hurt because I can’t stop smiling!”

Minho watched you hide your heated face in your hands. He hoped you’d smile like this for a long time, even if he wasn’t the reason behind it.

If the boys were allowed a collective three hours in the bathroom nearly every damn morning, you were allowed three hours to yourself once this evening. You practically put on a spa for yourself in preparation for this. Every centimeter of your body was exfoliated and moisturized, every strand of hair fixed in its place, and every eyelash was coated with mascara. Not to mention that your outfit didn’t have a single wrinkle to be seen.

“Not gonna lie, you look pretty decent,” Changbin admitted while leaning on the doorframe. “Expecting some dessert tonight, if you know what I mean?”

“You think I’ll let it go that far on my very first date? Who do you think I am!”

“A touch-starved damsel.”

“… Shut up.” At 7:00 pm on the dot, you received a text from Wooyoung that he’s here. “Ah, gotta go!”

Like you would on a Monday morning already late for class, you shoved all of your essentials in a bag and scurried for the door, but not before Minho came out of his room and caught you. After putting on your nice shoes, you finally looked up to stare back at your wide-eyed, jaw-dropped friend. The only other time he ever looked at you like that was prom night, and even though you were glammed up times ten that night, his face tonight was more intense. The sudden waves of confusion and erratic heartbeat skips reminded you of why you accepted to go on the date so quickly in the first place: to get rid of these weird feelings for your best friend that you couldn’t understand.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you whined. “Too much? Or too little?”

Perfect. “No, no. You look fine.”

“Really?”

“I promise. You got everything you need?”

“Uh, wallet, keys, phone…”

“Condom?”

“Minho!!”

“Just kidding! Be sure to practice abstinence because I’m not letting some guy come into our apartment just so you can do THAT.”

“Don’t worry, he has his own place.” He knew you were joking… kind of… you were joking, right…? “I’m kidding.”

“You better be… Don’t forget, curfew’s at 9:00 pm.”

“Ok, I’ll see you at 2:00 am ~!”

You did a final wave goodbye before heading out the door to forget all about Minho while he was stuck being a boring homebody. He heard his other, more irritating roommate tisk annoyingly from across the room.

“Shoulda said something ~” Changbin sang.

“What is there to say?”

“Baby, don’t leave! Why go out with a boy when you can go out with a MAN like me?”

“Oh, my God, I don’t really sound like that, do I?”

“Only sometimes.”

So while you were off on your date, smiling at him like no one else in the world could matter more, Minho would glue his ass to the couch and wait for you to come home.

Your first date was both exactly and the complete opposite of how you expected it to be - quite awkward, but it gradually melted into something you would best describe as comfortable. It didn’t feel very date-like. It felt more like you were eating dinner with a very handsome friend. You could easily see why all of your friends were jealous that you were on this date. Wooyoung was so easy to talk to and just his stare alone, he could get anyone to fall in love with him just like that.

A moment like this, when he’s laughing at your corny joke or fixing a loose strand of hair, was when you truly wished cupid would shoot a thousand arrows into your heart at one time with Wooyoung’s name on the heart-shaped head. That itself would solve about 75 percent of your problems. But it was too late, for your heart already had a hundred thousand arrows lodged in with no way of taking them out, and every single one had Minho’s stupid name on them.

Your date ended earlier than expected which was a little after midnight when his friend San called him in some party-related emergency. Of course you understood, as you’ve experienced being that friend one too many times, and he bid you a farewell with a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“Let’s do this again sometime,” he suggested.

“I’d love that!” Though it probably wasn’t going to happen.

During the walk home, you took the time to reflect on everything that went wrong tonight. Fifteen minutes in, and you couldn’t figure out why your heart didn’t beat for Wooyoung. Passers-by gave you a strange look as you passed because of how your face twisted in confusion, but they went unnoticed because now you actually had to deal with your feelings for Minho straight on.

When did this all start exactly? Like when did the first arrow lodge itself in your right ventricle? Was it in middle school when he stopped those bullies? Was it during your last year in high school when he hugged you so tight, crying tears of joy when the team won the championship basketball game? Maybe it was during your first college party when he held your hair up while you puked into the toilet, but you knew there was no way this all happened because of one silly dream… Maybe your feelings were there all along.

The saying goes when it rains, it pours, right? Tonight, that phrase is both hypothetical and literal.

In a matter of seconds, the skies cried heavily with no thunder or lightning to be heard or seen. On this warm night alone, you were getting soaked to the bone with little-to-no-coverage. You didn’t pack an umbrella and for some reason, even the store awnings couldn’t give you shelter very well, so your only option was to take off your pretty much-ruined nice shoes and sprint home barefoot and that’s exactly what you did.

Minho liked the rain. It was calming, but only added to the lonely ambiance on this fine Friday evening. From inside, he watched the city glow different colors as the light reflected off of the rain droplets and this was when he thought the city looked the most beautiful. He could fall asleep at any moment just to the sound of the rain.

Minho’s apartment is so high up that it’s difficult to see the details in in peoples’ faces and clothes as they walked the streets, but it was easy to spot the little speck running towards his building a couple of blocks away. No one else for blocks on end could be seen other than the tiny speck running. He didn’t have to see your face to know that it was you running home because you didn’t have an umbrella. Not that he’s not happy to see you home, but why were you here so early? And alone, for that matter? Did that Wooyoung guy ditch you?

“Idiot,” Minho mumbled grumpily before grabbing his umbrella and making his way to you.

By the time he reached the lobby, he thought he’d see you inside by now, but that wasn’t the case and he was starting to get a little worried. He didn’t waste time running out the building and immediately he spotted you taking a breather under the big coffee shop awning. You’re completely soaked as if you took a dip in the ocean, strands of hair clinging to your rosy cheeks, and your shoes in your hand…? You’re barefoot, feet all cut up and a little bruised. Without looking at your face, a stranger could say that you were having a bad night, but even Minho knew that wasn’t exactly the case. You didn’t look disappointed or anything near that.

You must have enjoyed the date.

A huge shadow blocked the streetlight from your body and a pair of Minho’s beat up dance shoes are in your eyesight. Tiredly, but happily, you look up to a stern-faced crush who held an umbrella over his head.

“‘Sup,” you greeted casually.

“Let’s go, you’re gonna get sick,” he muttered.

Neither of you said a word until you reached your shared home, and Minho didn’t bother to give you a second glance until then, too. After carelessly tossing his umbrella near the pile of shoes, he found his spot on the couch again.

“You should shower.”

“Right…”

Still, he didn’t give you the time of day, and it hurts. From your cut-up feet to your pounding headache, everything just hurts, and your entire body was ready to crawl under your sheets and call it a night. But you obeyed, taking a long, hot shower to wash away all the wrongs that happened tonight.

When you were done, Minho had a first-aid kit ready in his hands. He didn’t seem as angry as earlier - now he just looked worried.

“Sit,” he commanded nicely.

Of course you obeyed like a misbehaved puppy walking to its cage. Nervously, you sat on the couch while Minho sat on the floor. Before you could ask what he was doing, he had already grabbed one foot to inspect for major cuts.

“You don’t need to do that - ah, hey!” The concerned boy wasn’t listening when he dabbed a cotton swab soaked in disinfectant over a single super small cut on your foot… that was bleeding… a lot. “That stings, bro!”

“Good, that means it’s working. Now sit still.” He put a tiny bandaid over the clean cut and when he thought he was all finished, he held both of your ankles in his hand. “Why is one bigger than the other? Is it swollen?”

“I may have tripped once… or twice…”

An aggravated sigh left Minho’s pink lips before he grabs the bandage to wrap around your swollen ankle. After neatly wrapping around once, the rest of the wrapping was done by yanking the bandage until you felt the blood flow cut off at that point.

“Ow ow!! Chill, Minho, you’re hurting more than helping!”

After realizing what he’d been doing, Minho halted, muttering a soft ‘sorry’ before re-wrapping your ankle with more love and care.

“Why were you alone tonight?” he asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean why wasn’t your date walking you home like he should? Doesn’t he know it’s common courtesy to do so?”

“Ah, well he had an emergency to attend to.”

“Still… He just left you to run home in the rain, and look what happened. Also, why the hell were your shoes off!?”

“I didn’t want to ruin them…”

The inside of his cheek was starting to numb from all the inherent chewing. At this point, Minho was tired, and you probably were, too. What was the point in arguing?

“Don’t date that guy,” he demanded.

“Why not?”

“You shouldn’t be dating someone who leaves you in the middle of a date. Was it even a real emergency?”

“It was at the end of a date. But no, not a REAL real emergency…”

“Still, he left you, and look how you ended up.” Another sigh left his lips. “I don’t like him, _____.”

“I know.” When Minho finally looked up, he saw that you were smiling at him. You’re not angry or upset by the way he was acting, and he’s really surprised. What was going through your mind? “You don’t have to worry. I don’t think there’s going to be another date.”

Good. “How come?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have that ‘I can’t wait to see you again’ type of feeling like I thought I would. I guess I wasn’t that into him.”

The shy boy below you cleared his throat hoping you wouldn’t see how relieved he was. “Oh, that’s good.”

“What happened to you wanting me to be happy with some guy?” you teased, lightly kicking his arm.

“I still do. Just not with him.”

“Mm. Maybe the next one will work out better.”

“Yeah… the next one.”

Minho finished wrapping up your ankle and went to stash the first aid kit in his room. You happily followed your confidant slash magical healer and he wasn’t complaining. In fact, he hid his growing smile so you wouldn’t see.

“I had a weird dream last night,” you said after flopping on his king-sized mattress.

“Tell me about it.”

“You were in it as a Prince.”

“Hm, doesn’t sound so weird to me.”

“I was right beside you the whole time.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Minho hopped on right beside you and the two of you laid side-by-side as you told your fairytale. “Were you my Princess? My sidepiece mistress? The cook’s daughter I fell in love with? Oh, or were we betrothed to unite two kingdoms together?”

“Dude, I don’t know…”

“God is in the details, baby. What else happened?”

“That’s all I could remember. You were a Prince who smiled everyday and I was right there the whole time.”

“I probably smiled all the time ‘cuz you were next to me.”

To play it off as playful, the boy only a couple centimeters beside you nudged you several times. It was hard for him to keep up the facade when you said,

“I was probably next to you the whole time because of your smile.”

Now what was he to do? Subconsciously, Minho turned on his side to face you. With your cheeks and the tip of your nose a baby pink, you refused to look at him. Maybe you were getting sick.

“What, you like my smile, or something?”

“Have I ever told you it makes me feel safe?”

“Safe? Why?”

“It lets me know I have nothing to worry about - that I’m going to be just fine.”

The ceiling must have been very interesting. You have yet to look at him and though he wanted you to, he hopes you don’t, otherwise the magnetic pull between your lips might be too strong for him to resist. He wondered what you tasted like.

“I’m glad I make you feel that way.”

The world felt at peace again when he returned to his position on his back. As if the roof did not exist above, the two of you laid on his bed and pretended to count the stars. Minho’s hand blindly found its way to yours and the tiny bumps and touches of his fingertips made goosebumps travel up your arms. The handsome, confusing boy traced tiny stars in the back of your hand.

“Did you like your dream?” he finally asked.

“You mean did I like being stuck with you for eternity?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His shy giggle filled the empty spaces of his room, and yours soon followed.

“Neither would I.”

An eternity together wouldn’t be so bad.

The spot beside you on Minho’s bed felt empty. You must have knocked out the night before, too tired to crawl back to your cave of a room, and ended up sleeping next to him the whole night. Either last night’s date was exhausting or you didn’t want to leave Minho or his bed because you slept in so late that he had already got up for the day.

Changbin was eating cereal in front of the television when you finally left the room.

“Whoa, what the hell,” he smirked, not knowing that’s where you slept last night. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

“No, idiot. We were talking and we fell asleep. Where is he, anyways?”

“Either at the gym or running errands or both.”

“Ah, ok…” If you knew Minho like you thought you did, then maybe he’s at the gym, but running errands? The hell kind of errands did he have? You were the one who ran all the house-related errands.

“You goin’ out tonight?”

“Can’t. Huge paper I have to work on.”

“C'mon, it’s Jeongin’s birthday! And Minho’s going ~”

Your cheeks burned from his teasing. “So? I’ll literally fail if I don’t get a good grade on this assignment.”

“Fine, you bookworm…”

So that’s what you did - you became a homebody for the day and hermitted in your room to work on that cursed paper. It was hard to focus when all you could think about was going out tonight with Minho. If you went, would you stick by his side the whole time? Would he drag you to the dance floor and hold you close? Would the alcohol take over and close the gap between your lips?

Let’s pretend the answer was yes to all of the above.

You didn’t see him for the entire day. Not for lunch, or dinner, or when he finally came home and hopped in the shower, or when he got ready in ten minutes, or even when he and Changbin left for the party. No texts or calls, either.

He was avoiding you at all costs.

Ugh, dammit, _____! Why did you sleep in his bed last night!? Ok, to be completely fair, he was sending you mixed signals that everything was fine, you know? He smiled after you told him how it made you feel safe, those little touches and whispers, literally agreeing to how life beside each other 'til you both grew old and wrinkly would be ideal… Why would you want to leave his side on the bed after all of that?

Boys were confusing, you knew that. Maybe you just misread the signs.

Minho felt like his heart was collapsing. Waking up beside you made this morning the best he’s ever had. You were so sleepy and so cute… All he wanted to do was press little kisses all on your forehead.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You just happened to fall asleep here with no real purpose. It’s not like he was going to wake you up and tell you to move? But did that make him selfish for wanting you to stay when you didn’t intend to? Maybe, so that’s why he had to slip out of the apartment before you woke up.

In the morning, he ran for a couple of hours. Then he went to lift weights. Then he ate and wasted time around town until it was time to get ready for Jeongin’s birthday. Nothing he did made it easier for him to forget about you and the night before. He’ll just use this opportunity of free booze to help him with that.

After successfully slipping in to get ready and out for a night of festivities, he thought that avoiding you for the whole day only made him miss you more.

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid tonight, are you?” Changbin asked.

“No promises.”

Well, no promises was right, because as soon as the two stepped into Chan’s place, Minho weaved his way through the crowd of strangers and went straight for the alcohol table. There, Chan was serving the jungle juice.

“Hey, you made it!” he greeted them, but his grin dropped when he saw the distressed look on Minho’s face. “Yikes, rough night?”

“You have no idea,” Changbin answered for him while he chugged the sweet drink.

He held the solo cup out to his concerned friend. “More.”

“Uh-oh…” Chan didn’t disobey.

For a while, Minho was fine on his own while Changbin was off doing God knows what to some poor soul. He socialized here and there, greeted the totally incoherent birthday boy, and even flirted his way around for the sake of distraction. When something new didn’t seem to work, he’d down another shot, and by the time it was 2:00 am, Minho could barely stand on his own.

“Oh, son of a - are you kidding me!?” Changbin groaned after seeing his poor roommate passed out on Chan’s couch.

“Should I call an Uber…?” Jisung asked.

“Nah, I have a cheaper solution.”

At 2:03 am, while you were munching on some chips and crying to some Miyazaki movie, Changbin’s name lit up your phone.

“Yo.”

“How much do you love your roommates?”

“On a scale of one to ten? Four and a half.”

“Can you cash in that four and a half and pick us up from Chan’s place ~?” the whiny boy begged. “Minho is being insufferable! He keeps drinking everything in site!”

That did not sound good… Minho got very, uh, unbearable when he wasn’t himself. You felt your headache come back and your blood pressure fly through the roof.

“But I don’t have a car.”

“The keys to the Audi are hanging by the door.”

“What the - he has a car!?”

“No, his uncle has a car. Just don’t tell him we’re using it. Hurry, before he gets outta hand - NO, DON’T LET HIM DRINK THAT -!!”

The line cut out and the dial tone rang in your ears for a solid five seconds before you could process what Changbin was asking of you. So you were supposed to grab the keys to an expensive Audi, drive to Chan’s house, pick up your incompetent roommates, and somehow end up back home alive? Well, all right…

The key to the car wasn’t actually a key… It was just a remote. The car was hidden in the corner of the underground garage and if you weren’t being careful, someone could honestly kidnap you at any moment and no trace of the kidnapping would be seen. The Audi was very beautiful, all white and shiny like it was brand new. The interior was pitch black with red stitching, tons of fancy buttons normal cars didn’t really have, and a button for the ignition. You prayed to whatever Lord was listening that it was Automatic because you had zero idea how to handle Manual.

The drive wasn’t that far, but it was far for a walk, so no wonder Changbin called you for assistance. After texting him that his personal, beautiful Uber driver had arrived, you were left with your erratic thoughts about how you were going to handle seeing Minho for the first time since last night. Would it be awkward? Maybe on your end because you were sober enough to remember everything, but maybe his drunken state would ease up the atmosphere.

Your love life sucked. Your crushes never worked out in the end, your first date ended up mediocre, and now you fell for your best friend. You were in denial for the most part, thinking that maybe this was just a coping mechanism for all your failures and that Minho was the only real man to ever care about you, so of course you fell for someone like him. But that wasn’t it, was it? Minho wasn’t made to be your security blanket when all else failed. Maybe all else failed because he was the one all along. Fate always had a weird way of playing with you.

A loud thump in the back seat shook you from your thoughts.

“Sorry, he’s very heavy and I got tired,” Changbin said as he sat in the front seat.

Looking back, you saw a passed out Minho curled up on the seats.

“Jeez, that kind of night, huh?” Did you do that to him…? Was this because of last night…?

“Yeah… you wouldn’t believe the shit he was saying -”

“_____, is that you?” he asked cutely.

“Hey there,” you giggled. “How are you feeling?”

“I miss you ~”

“Huh?”

“Bro, he would not shut up the entire night! _____ this, _____ that, I was honestly so happy that he passed out on the couch because for those ten minutes, I could hear my own thoughts again. Can you two figure out whatever sexual tension you guys are having -”

“Changbin!”

“What!? I’m tired of living with you two!”

“Move out then!”

“No way, I was there first!!”

“Stop yelling,” the poor, drunk boy whined, moving up so his face was in between yours and a pouty Changbin. Minho turned to you all giggly and smiley like a kid in a candy shop and poked your cheek. “I miss you ~”

Of course you did, too. “I miss you, too, dork.”

“I have something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home, I’m sleepy.” And he was out like a light once more.

“What the hell…”

“Chan’s jungle juice, man. It’s magical,” Changbin tisked.

It took two small adults to carry one Minho all the way from the parking lot, to the lobby, to the elevator, and then finally to the door. You’d think with all the working out Changbin did that he could handle the unconscious boy all on his own, but Minho was very muscley… A lot more than you remembered. From supporting his back and abs and having his arm around your shoulder, you could feel every crevice of his taut muscles that you should definitely not be thinking about at a time like this. He was fine to support himself by the time the door opened, and Changbin happily let go of him to go to the bathroom, something about ‘needing to piss really bad.’

Before you could fathom that you were left alone with a loosey goosey Minho, he had already grabbed onto your hand and pulled you into his chest. His arms wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t escape, but it wasn’t like you were going to, anyways. With his cheek resting on your forehead, you felt safe.

“I miss you ~” he repeated in his sing-songy voice.

“What are you doing?” you muffled into his chest.

“Showing and telling you how much I love you.”

“Wait, what -”

“In fact, let me show and tell the whole world!”

How Minho was able to run to the balcony and not trip and fall flat on his face was a mystery to you. The weird boy literally swung open the door and breathed in the fresh air before screaming into the night,

“I LOVE _____!”

Still inside, feet glued to where Minho first told you he sincerely loves you, you were shocked as the man you loved screamed at the top of his lungs to the city below.

“I LOVE YOU ~!” he screamed once more.

“Oh, my God.”

You sighed tiredly, though your growing smile wasn’t fooling anyone. Reluctantly, you made your way to the balcony to bring in the boy you loved before he lost his voice. After screaming a couple more times, he tuckered himself out and leaned over the edge of the railing.

“You’re going to fall!” you lectured, pulling him back up. That was a bit of a mistake on your end though, because now he used you as his means of support and coddled you tightly like you were his own personal teddy bear.

“I love you, _____,” he said perfectly like there wasn’t a drop of alcohol in his system.

“Minho, you’re drunk.”

He held you tighter. “Do you wanna hear a story? It’s called ‘The Day I Fell for You’.”

“Ok. Tell me all about it.”

“You were in art class and it was the pottery unit. You absolutely hated the mug you made, but I loved it. I told you to submit it for the art exhibit anyways. The following week at exhibition night, you won second place for the best pottery piece. When you went up to get your ribbon in front of all our other classmates and their parents, you only looked at me. You had the brightest smile on your face, and when I gave you a thumbs up, you glowed even brighter. I didn’t think that was even possible. Then when the awards were over, you ran up to me and hugged me so tight. Just like this. And my heart was beating so fast! Just like now, too. I never wanted to let you go, you know? And then when you let me keep your mug, it was all over from there.”

Ah, you remember that story perfectly, even if it was so long ago. Minho made you feel like you could fly without wings.

He hummed happily, enjoying the feeling of you in his arms. “It’s my favorite mug. I drink coffee out of it every morning.”

“I know, I’m the one who washes it…”

“_____, what do I do ~?” He broke the hug and the heart-wrenching moment to hold your face and squish your cheeks so hard your lips would pout. “What do I do ~? I love you and I want to kiss you so badly!”

“Eh!?”

“Just one kiss,” he begged, puckering his lips playfully.

“Ah, no, you weirdo!” you giggled, but you weren’t even fighting back.

“Just one, I promise.”

Before you could fake-object, his lips barely touched yours for a split second. They were soft, sent goosebumps all over your skin, and made sparks fly.

He giggled softly before leaning in again. “Ok, one more.”

“You said just one!”

“I got a taste and now I want more. This is your fault.”

“You sound like an addict.”

“Only for you, baby.”

So he kissed you once more. And again. And again. And then again for the tenth time. The eleventh time he made the kiss last a little longer. The fifteenth time was a kiss on your nose. The sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth were for your cheeks twice. The twentieth and the last was on your forehead, making your heart flutter like a little hummingbird.

"You taste like punch and tequila,” you gagged.

“Do you like it ~?”

“No!”

“Do you like me ~?”

“Only sometimes. But I guess I love you all other times. Luckily, you probably won’t remember this in the morning.”

There’s a short silence afterwards, only the sounds of the wind blowing could be heard as Minho continued to hold you. “Loving me means you can’t get mad at me, right?”

“It means I’ll probably get mad at you more frequently. Why, what did you do…?”

“Nothing, I swear! I’m just… not as drunk as you think I am anymore…”

“Ah, so you’ll remember this in the morning…”

“Absolutely. If you rejected my screaming confession though, I would have still pretended to be drunk. Isn’t my plan so smart? I’m a genius, bro.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t say genius,” you teased.

“Whatever, you admitted you love me, that’s all that matters.”

“I only said it 'cuz you said it first. If you didn’t, I would have kept it to myself.”

“But why ~?”

“You left me this morning. I thought telling you my dream was a huge mistake and I scared you away.”

Your loving boy pressed a twenty-first kiss to your forehead. “I was scared, but not because of that. I was scared you would leave everything at that and wouldn’t think of me as anything but a friend.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m an emotional man, ok.”

“I know ~” you sighed happily. The night air was crisp and cool, but Minho kept you warm, as he always did. He was always there whenever you need him. “I love you, you know that?”

Minho took a long and dramatic breath in, pressing his expanding chest to yours and you kind of regret tell him you love him because from the top of his lungs, he screamed,

“I LOVE YOU!!”

“Minho, shut up!!!”

“I LOVE YOU, _____!!”

The rest of the night until the following morning was spent with Minho’s arms wrapped tightly around you. The only time he ever let you go was when you burned the pancakes and needed his help making more.

Minho, the dorky, annoying, loving, sweet, dumbass of a friend was now YOUR dorky, annoying, loving, sweet dumbass.

He wasn’t so bad.

#lee minho #minho #lino #skz #stray kids #skz minho #skz lee know #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #god i miss minho so much lmao #this was not edited :)))))))))))))))))))))sorry :)))))#i hope you like it!!! i put a lot of love in it bcuz i love lino :))))#YES IT'S FROM MY FIRST FIRST LOVE LMAO

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justlookfrightened · 5 years ago

Text

Second Zimbits bingo post #2

See the first post

Urban fantasy

Bitty woke to weak sunlight illuminating a bare room.

The corners were dusty, but the sheets on the bed were clean enough, if a little scratchy. The T-shirt Jack had given him to sleep in was plenty soft, and so big it covered Bitty down to the thighs.

He crawled out of bed and to the radiator, where he’d draped his wet clothes the night before. He prodded at them with a finger. His underwear was dry, thank the Lord, and his jeans were only a little damp around the waistband. His own T-shirt, rinsed in the bathroom sink with his underwear and socks, had also dried.

His shoes, though … maybe he could get away with stocking feet until he actually had to leave the house. Haus? Jack had pronounced it kind of funny when he welcomed Bitty inside the night before and showed him the living room with its truly disgusting couch. If the living room was his only choice, Bitty had decided, he would sleep on the floor. It was still miles better than trying to find shelter outside.

But then Jack had gone upstairs for a few minutes. When he came back down, he said, “Looks like Johnson’s away again. You can have his bed for the night.”

Jack had shown him the bathroom, which was also gross, but had hot water, and given him a clean shirt that fit Bitty like it was meant to be nightclothes anyway.

Bitty had reveled in the feeling of the shower raining down on his shoulders and back, and he uttered a silent apology to whoever owned the soap and shampoo he used. Once he was clean, he washed his smalls as best he could. He was just wringing them out when Jack knocked on the door and called, “I don’t know if you have a toothbrush, but there should be a new one in the drawer on the left if you want it.”

“Thanks, Jack,” Bitty called back, and lost no time in cleaning his teeth,

“No problem,” Jack said. “I have to be up early, so I’m going to bed. Good night,”

“Good night,” Bitty replied through a mouthful of toothpaste.

Jack really had turned out to be a godsend after a less than auspicious beginning. Bitty had felt the tears coming when he turned to leave Jack’s shop after hearing it was already closed; he didn’t know how far he he had walked in the snow already, and he just wanted a chance to get warm, even if the cost of coffee or tea would have put a dent in the meager funds in his wallet.

Maybe his magic had somehow summoned Jack when he needed him? Or if not summoned him, given him a change of heart?

No, probably not. Bitty’s magic didn’t usually work without him making an effort, and he had never tried to work it on people. That seemed wrong, somehow. Besides, if he could have used magic to change hearts, he would have used it on Mama and Coach and stayed in his old, comfortable life.

At any rate, it was way past early, judging by the winter sun, but Jack hadn’t woken him to send him on his way. He wasn’t even sure which room was Jack’s, and he didn’t want to wake up a stranger by mistake, so he couldn’t look for him..

Once dressed, Bitty folded Jack’s T-shirt over his arm, picked up his shoes and padded down the stairs. He wasn’t exactly sure how many people lived here, or what their relationship was to one another, but Jack didn’t seem to think they’d mind Bitty crashing for the night. He could at least do some muffins to thank them, assuming there was a working kitchen.

The living room with the disgusting couch was empty of people, and so was the kitchen just beyond it. Well, kitchen, if he used the term loosely. There was a refrigerator, and a stove, and a sink and cabinets. Maybe the appliance that got the most use was the microwave, judging by the food spattered on the inside of the door.

The floor didn’t look like it had been mopped this year, the refrigerator was full of beer and convenience foods and the cabinets held boxes of protein bars and at least a case of sriracha.

How had Jack made such good coffee yesterday? If this was his kitchen, it was really no wonder that he thought it acceptable to microwave a stale scone. The wonder was that the scone was edible at all.

No matter. Bitty could make his muffins and get this kitchen set to rights. It was really the least he could do for the people who took him in last night, even if most of them didn’t know it yet.

Bitty wrinkled his nose as he stuffed his feet into his damp shoes and made his way to the counter. He pulled his old recipe book from the pocket of his hoodie and turned the pages, looking for what to make when ingredients were scarce. Soon, he had a batter mixed with eggs, flour, oil and milk that all came to hand at just the right time. So did blueberries. They were frozen, but Bitty supposed he couldn’t be too picky when it was February.

The oven was ancient, and it took ages to heat, but it did get hot. While Bitty was waiting, he made a start on the cleaning. Once the muffins were baking, he looked at the ingredients he had left and made a start on a pie. Muffins were good, but it really would take a pie to show the depth of his gratitude. Besides, he couldn’t even think of leaving until it was done and the kitchen was set to rights. It didn’t hurt that he found apples for the filling as soon as the dough for the crust was chilling.

The muffins were out and the pie in the oven when he was interrupted by two men, both at least Jack’s size, maybe bigger, standing in the doorway.

“What the fuck is that smell?” one said. “It smells like my aunt’s house, but with more love and innocence.”

“Bro, no offense, but I’ve been to your aunt’s house,” the larger one said. “Compared to this, her house smells like a shithole.”

Bitty stood stock still. He was pretty sure they meant the food smelled good (because really, it did), but the way they expressed themselves …

He was still standing and staring when the first man who spoke noticed him.

“Uh, who are you, little dude?”

“And what are you doing in our kitchen?” the bigger guy said. “Are you like some kind of an elf out of a fairy tale?”

An elf? This man was mistaking a full-grown man for an elf? Sure, he was a kitchen witch, but you couldn’t tell by looking.

“I’m not an elf,” he said. “Jack let me stay here last night, and I figured I’d make y’all some food to thank you for your hospitality.”

“Jack’s gone already, bro,” the not-quite-as-large one said. “Sorry if you were expecting to see him this morning.”

“Imagine that,” the other one said. “Jack bringing a guy home, and then sneaking out of his own room while the guy’s sleeping. Sorry for his lack of manners, uh —”

Bitty knew his face was burning at what the man was implying. He would never, not just after meeting someone at least. Not that he hadn’t thought about it a little before falling asleep, wearing Jack’s T-shirt. Jack was … very attractive, and kind, even if his manners left something to be desired. Bitty had laughed at himself then, for thinking his life could be like one of Mama’s romance novels, with a hero with a chiseled jaw and six-pack abs coming to his rescue.

“Eric,” Bitty finally managed to sputter. “Eric Bittle. And if you were implying what I thought you were, it wasn’t like that. I took shelter from the storm in Jack’s coffee shop last night, and he let me stay in — I think he said it was someone named Johnson’s room?”

“Johnson,” the blond snorted. “Dude’s never here. Anyway, I’m Adam. You can call me Holster. This is Justin, but he goes by Ransom.”

“Okay,” Bitty said. “Y’all can call me Bitty, if you want. Sit, and have some muffins. The coffee’s probably not as good as Jack’s —” Bitty glared at the crusty old coffee maker “— but it should do.”

Ransom and Holster sat and ate. They ate so much that Bitty had to keep a close eye on the basket, especially after another man, this one in nothing but a mustache and Wonder Woman briefs, wandered in.

“Hell — holy shit, what is this?” he said, seeing the basket of muffins that the first two hadn’t quite been able to finish off. Probably because Bitty had multiplied them when no one was looking.

“Breakfast,” Ransom said, taking another bite. “Thanks to our new best friend, Eric Bittle.”

“He’s ours, Shitty,” Holster said. “You can’t have him.”

“That’s not how friendship works,” the new guy — Shitty? — said before Bitty could protest. “Where’d you find him?”

“In the kitchen,” Holster said.

“Actually, Jack found him,” Ransom said. “Brought him home and put him in Johnson’s room last night.”

Bitty took the pie from the oven and set it on the cooling rack before clearing his throat and saying, “‘Him’ is standing right here.”

“Sorry,” the new guy saud. “Shitty Knight at your service.”

“Shitty?”

“Long story,” Shitty said. “How do you know Jackabelle?”

“I don’t,” Bitty said. “I just stopped into the coffee shop, and he realized I was stranded and took pity on me.”

“That — kind of sounds like something Jack would do,” Shitty said.

“Anyway, I made the muffins and the pie to thank him, and all of you, for your hospitality,” Bitty said. “My name is Eric, but call me Bitty.”

“I guess I can see how you got that nickname,” Shitty said, standing up to pour his own coffee.

“I’m not that small,” Bitty protested. “It’s a hockey nickname, ‘cause my last name’s Bittle.”

“Right,” Shitty said.

“Wait, dude, you play hockey?” Holster said. “We played in college.That’s how we all met.”

“Used to play,” Bitty said. Because that was in high school, back in Georgia.

“What do you do now? Besides turning out wicked muffins?” Shitty said. “Where did you even find blueberries? Did you go to the store?”

“Did you remember the part where he was stranded?” Ransom said. “How would he get to the store?”

“That’s right,” Shitty said, and helped himself to another muffin. “Holy fuck, these are good. So what’s your plan?”

“Um, maybe someone could direct me to the train station?” Bitty said. “I walked from there last night, to Jack’s coffee shop, but he drove me here, and I don’t quite know how to get back.”

“Dude, you’re not gonna walk there,” Holster said, eyeing Bitty’s sneakers. “It’s too far. And the snow’s like a foot deep. Streets are mostly plowed, but it’s messy.’’

“Maybe you could tell me how to get to the coffee shop then?” Bitty asked. “I did want to leave that pie for Jack and if I leave it here …”

“Yeah, no,” Holster said. “It’ll definitely disappear. How’d you make it so fast anyway? I thought pies were, like, hard.”

“Not really,” Bitty said. “And sometimes when I’m in a kitchen, pies just appear.”

“Cool superpower, brah,” Shitty said. “But you don’t want to carry that pie all the way to the shop. I can drive you in a little bit. I was headed that way anyway.”

Ransom and Holster left, off to do whatever kind of work it was they did (consulting, they said, but what did that mean?). Shitty disappeared upstairs, presumably to put some clothes on, and Bitty cleaned up the kitchen. And made two batches of cookies: chocolate chip and ginger snaps.

He made sure to hide the cookies and the leftover muffins under clean dish towels on the counter, in hopes they would be discovered later, when he was gone. Shitty had already been looking at him like there was something strange going on, and he had no wish to explain his magic.

Well, really, he had no ability to explain it, either. It started when he was small. When he was just a tyke he could produce pies and cookies and cakes better than bakers ten times his age. Back when he was five, he didn’t question that there were always chocolate chips in the cupboard when he needed them, always eggs and butter in the fridge, and the flour canister was never empty.

It had been going on for a matter of months when MooMaw noticed there was something more than unusual baking talent there. She pulled him aside and said she was the very same way, and he must never tell anyone. Not even his parents. Apparently, the magic skipped a generation.

Over the years, she told him what she had learned. She was always able to bake good food, but some of the magic only seemed to kick in if she was baking for other people.

“If I wanted to make a cupcake, just for me, and I needed some almond extract, do you think I’d find it in my cabinet?” she said. “Never. But if I was baking a whole batch of cupcakes for your class at school, it would be there, sure as there’s a nose on my face.”

“But MooMaw,” he’d asked. “Why would you ever bake just one cupcake?”

Over the years, he’d found that he couldn’t always get exactly what he wanted. There were no in-season strawberries in December, no matter how much he needed them. Some recipes seemed to work better than others when he needed to put his magic to use, and they were usually the ones he copied by hand from MooMaw’s book. But his cakes and pies and cookies seemed to bake faster than most people’s no matter what recipe he used, and once baked, they wouldn’t run out during a meal or a party, not as long as he kept watch and willed the serving basket or plate to stay full.

No matter how harmless his magic seemed, he knew MooMaw was right. People didn’t like somebody who was different, and he was already different enough. Mama and Coach hadn’t kicked him out, precisely, when he explained that the kids who tormented him for being gay weren’t exactly wrong, but his relationship with them had grown strained overnight.

Best to find somewhere where he could be himself, by himself, and bake for people who didn’t know who he was or question why it tasted so good. It was already far too late for that here. He would take Jack his pie and be on his way.

Read the next part

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits bingo #my fic

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

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We Can Make Anything Work as Long as You Stand By Me (Sriracha, Part 26.)

Description: A problematic college student gets the worst summer job of the ‘83 - Jim Hopper, the Chief of police in your hometown will have you as his secretary since his old lady Flo has two months lasting holiday. It was agreed so Hopper could let you far away from all the trouble.

Part Summary: With one year anniversary approaching, Hopper decided to make something special with the help of your mom.

Warnings: Smut, but a sweet and loving one. Also, let’s say this is one of the last happy chapters before... Well... The summer of 1985 is approaching rather quickly, don’t you think?

A/N: I feel like we hadn’t got nasty here in a long time... So... Here we go. Inspired by Foreigner and their song I Wanna Know What Love Is (IT IS 1984 GUYS, IT’S ALRIGHT, DON’T COME AFTER ME.)

Word count: 3.3 K

Tagging: @nemodoren, @creedslove, @missdictatorme

Master list: H E R E

Eleven staying at your parents began to occur daily - even your father liked the girl since she was interested in his fishing set, watching him taking care of it and he could tell her about his damn sports articles for hours and she didn't seem to get bored with his enthusiasm.

It was secretive every time you took her there, making sure that she's hidden under the blanket perfectly. Since your mom stopped working at the Post office, you called her every day before taking El there - and it was never a problem. First, you let your parents take her for one day in a week, that was in early June. You or Hopper always made sure to stick around just for El to feel safe. When you were sure that she can stay there on her own the whole day, you began to drop her there on her own.

The first bigger breakthrough came when the first of July was slowly approaching - it was almost scary that you and Hopper made the things work for a year almost. That was also the evening when he got another of his batshit crazy ideas. He asked your mom when he was dropping Eleven off on Friday, letting your mom taking care of her. Aiden was enthusiastic about being an uncle - that day, he planned to draw with El and then showing her a few cool tricks he taught Lady.

"Can I ask you a favor?" - Jim asked your mom nervously as he watched Eleven taking her shirt off, almost automatically pouring herself Molly’s lemonade. She was asking all the time before she learned that she can have anything that was put on the counter - whether it was Molly’s lemonade or her famous cakes.

"Go on." - Your mom let him in, pouring him a glass of water as well. It was awfully hot on that day - even if the summer had just started. Hopper really appreciated the glass, if he had to be honest.

"God, this is awfully cringy, but..." - Hopper stepped a bit away from Eleven who watched him cautiously, having a small sunburn on her face since she loved to spend too much time in the water. - "A year of me knowin’ your daughter is comin’ by and I thought that maybe you could have El for a sleepover so I can make her a nice evenin’?" - Hopper asked, getting red on his cheeks. Your mom opened up her mouth a bit and then furrowed.

"You want to take her out on a dinner, right?" - She asked suspiciously, not letting Hopper off of her sight for a single second. Hopper almost spilled the water out of his mouth before nodding. He was thinking more like kinky fucking all over the cabin, but he couldn't tell that your mom straight to her face.

"At the Spanish restaurant in the downtown, Molly, she loves the food there." - Hopper somehow got out of his mouth, praying for your mom to leave him alone. Then, she nodded, looking at Eleven.

"It will be a pleasure to have this anger here overnight. She can sleep in Y/N’s old bed, we can watch some movies, have fun. Sure." - Molly nodded, waiting for Hop to drink the rest of the water and leaving the house, telling Eleven once again that she better be good kiddo.

And as Jim and your mom had planned, so it happened. On Sunday, you had to leave for a shift, so Hopper took Eleven to your parents’ just an hour before you were supposed to end. Joyce, again, helped him with the outfit and tips of what to say, she helped him with making the reservation of a table since Hop was clueless with these things. And let me say, that man looked handsome. Like, really handsome.

He took his beige blazer out of the wardrobe, slicked his hair, shortened his beard and Eleven helped him with choosing the right pair of jeans and a shirt - they ended up picking a white one with blue, almost invisible stripes printed all over it. Even Molly was pleasantly surprised when she saw him looking like a million bucks when he opened up the garage door.

Meanwhile, you could just describe your shift at horrendous and you were happy, once the clock had shown eight o’clock. The people were nice, it wasn't the people that visited the bistro... It was just too hot and the sun was shining the whole damn day. Yet, you wanted to buy some fireworks and celebrate the fourth of July at your parents’ as a family, so each penny you made could help you a lot.

You felt like a hot pile of a mess when you were leaving the bistro on one of Jim’s shirts with a messy hairstyle and a pair of jeans - but that didn't matter to him at all while he was waiting for you in front of the door, leaned into your car with a fucking huge flower in his palms. You didn't even realize what day it is. The first of July - you started to work at the station last year that day and Jim had proclaimed it your anniversary day. And even if you would remember what day it was, Hop didn't look a man who remembers dates and anniversaries. Your whole face lit up as soon as you realized it's him, just with shortened hair, looking smooth as ever.

"What are you... Doing here?" - You giggled, leaning closer to kiss him. - "Did you leave her all alone at home?" - You ask worriedly, taking the flower he was giving you while you let him give you yet another kiss. And that was a proper French one.

"Don't worry about anythin’ today, alrite? This day’s yours." - Jim smiled, patting your bum carefully as he threw your stuff on your backseat, shoving the flower there carefully as well. You had to sit on the co-driver’s seat because this wasn't the end of his masterful plan.

Yes, you felt kinda worried about Eleven, looking at the profile of Hopper’s face, but you knew that if she wasn't safe, he wouldn't be that calm. Foreigner was playing through the car as his hand palmed your knee when he drove towards the restaurant. This was the best looking anniversary you ever had - at least that far.

Even if you felt like you're not dressed pretty enough to have a meal at the best Spanish restaurant you've ever been, you saw in his eyes that it doesn't matter, for fuck’s sake. All that mattered was that you two were there together on a great meal, having lots of great conversation which you hadn't got in weeks... Months even. Hopper also made you laugh hard many times and... It just felt like the old times when there was no Eleven, when you lived at his trail and when nobody knew about you, although you were sitting in a restaurant full of people. It felt like that small half of the month after you got back to Hawkins from Dakota and before Jim disappeared for three whole months.

You were grateful for what you had, but it reminded you of something much simpler than what your current situation was. It made you remember the days when you could walk around completely naked, having him any time you wished to, the long nights of laughs you spent in the bed and the swims in the quarry, both of you completely naked, kissing each other, being completely lost in the moment. You missed these moments. But Eleven was now a part of your life as well and honestly, you wouldn't change that for literally anything in the world.

The bigger surprise was waiting for you in the cabin; while you had to sit in the car all alone for what seemed to be whole eternity, Hopper was doing something in the cabin. You were already happy - but your breath got pretty much stuck when you saw tens, maybe hundreds, of candles lit up with I Wanna Know What Love Is playing in the background.

"You're trying here, Mr. Hopper, I gotta say." - You whispered when you felt his fingers dip into your tensed shoulders, making you grunt with pleasure, biting your lip in the process.

"You're just worth all of this, what can I say?" - Jim smiled into the crook of your neck, letting his palm slip under your/his shirt and below the belt on your jeans.

"You’ve never seemed to be the man who does great gestures. This is such a nice surprise. You might need to do this more often, huh?" - You hummed and moved your hips in the rhythm of the song. It was a truly great choice of music; this was a song for dancing, singing, nuzzling, slow fucking, just everything. And when the main verse of the whole song was playing? You simply got lost in the moment every time.

"And I have more." - Jim smiled, taking the flower out of your hand, putting it into a vase. You had a while just to look at your man - and dear got, he was extremely hot at that moment, just doing the little everyday things. - "But you need to take a shower, darlin’."

"Do I smell, Jim?" - You giggled and hugged him from the back, smiling into his blazer. - "Now you're smelly too." - You put your chin on his shoulder, kissing the crook of his neck with a smile.

"You don't smell, I just want to see my fiancée naked. Is that a sin?" - He asked back, putting the vase on the table, watching you walk away with a nasty grin on your face. Slowly, you undid the buttons, one after one, showing him the bra you got under. Knowing this, you would take something way sexier, but you found out just after your shift ended and you were looking like a damned witch living in the deepest swamp.

That didn't stop you from undoing your jeans, unhooking the button just before you entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Without hesitation, Hopper picked up both your shirt and your pants, folding them without putting too much effort into it, since you taught him to do his stuff. By the time the door opened up again, you were already covered in soap bubbles, your hair was completely damp, but you had a contained smile on your lips. At least until you heard sounds of a Polaroid taking and printing a photo.

"What are you doing, you old creep?" - You mumbled, dragging him under the warm water after you - which meant that he had to put the camera away.

"Creepin' on you, I guess?" - The man smiled into your lips before kissing you, feeling as you massaged the gel onto his arms.

"Well, I hope you're not creeping on anyone else like that." - You laughed back, looking at that man getting on his knees. There literally wasn't anything hotter than Hopper on his knees; that was a fact which needed to be stated. Especially when you knew what he's about to do to you.

"So you can see this David guy, but I can’t creep on anyone else. That’s kinda unfair, missy." - Jim's mouth said into your thigh before kissing it. You haven't done anything in the shower for a hella long time. This almost felt like a redemption of sorts.

You'd swear that you started melting at the first moment his tongue touched you right on the most sensitive spot of your body. Without putting too much effort into anything, you stopped the water, swung your leg over his shoulder and gripped his hair pretty tight to make sure he won't leave his damn place. You didn't even realize how much you've missed being eaten out anytime and anywhere just because Jim said and wanted so.

Before your brain could make out what in the name of God of is happening, you had two fingers inside of you, third about to be added masterfully, his lips were sucking the living soul out of you and you had some serious trouble with standing up straight. Your fingers were playing with his hair, smoothing it from side to side as you bit your lower lip, trying not to scream too loud.

"Fuck, goddamn, Jim I love you." - You mumbled the typical nonsense you did as you were about to come, feeling that bastard just humming into your pussy. The vibrations set you off - so in the next second, you were barely standing there, screaming curses, his name, the name of the Lord, just everything as the stars flew past your closed eyes.

"Don't you pass out on me. 'Cause then I'd have to give you a mouth to mouth and that David guy would roast me for that, baby." - Hopper laughed from kneeling between your legs, watching you from the below, holding both your legs in place.

"Shut your mouth, creep." - You laughed with your eyes still closed, feeling him standing up to turn on the water. And boy, oh, he was hard as stone. But when you wanted to palm that dick, he shushed your fingers away, turning your back at him, slowly massaging the gel onto your back.

"What the hell was that, James?" - You laughed, giving into the touch of his fingers, feeling the warm water run down your spine, the small of your back and your ass. - "I'm not allowed to touch you now? You're like a moody-ass wife."

"And you're my impatient husband. Have anyone told you that patience is a gift?" - He asked with a sigh when he leaned your head backward, slowly drawing circles onto your head. That felt ridiculously hot and relaxing.

"Captain America says bullshit like this in every issue." - You said, biting your lip under that touch. It was really simple, yet somehow getting you all worked up. - "Patience is a virtue."

"It sure is." - Jim's palm slapped your ass to give you a sign that he's done. Jesus, he was in a playful mood that night - and you had his palm literally imprinted on your right buttcheek. With a sigh, you put your bathrobe on and left the bathroom, watching that fucking jackass biting his bottom lip as he tried not to laugh out loud. And God, you felt so in love when he came out of the shower, just drying his hair as you smoked by the table with one of the cabin's windows open.

"What?" - Hopper asked, smiling back at you.

"You're so handsome and I feel like I don't tell you that often enough." - You mumbled back, finishing the cigarette right after, tapping it off.

"Yeah, I'm the princess and you should be kissing my damn hand every time I swin' my breathtaking ass past you." - He agreed, making you laugh once again before he sneaked in in front of you, letting one of the towels to the ground.

"Hopper, the clothes and, ugh..." - You mumbled, bending your head backward, sighing at that man of yours.

"I'll do all of 'em tomorrow." - Jim promised, helping you to stand up before he kissed you.

"You're going to be the fucking death of me, I swear, James Hopper." - You whispered, pulling for another kiss as you tried to get the bathrobe off as quickly as you could, doing the same with the second towel around his ass.

Before you could say anything else, your back was pressed into the table while that bastard put both your knees into a fucking spread eagle. You barely remembered this position being as filling as it was - you just felt your eyes rolling backward when his dick slipped inside. This was the Jim you fell in love with - the man fucking you at a fast pace with his thumb wrapped around that small bundle of nerves between your legs.

You missed this playful sex. You loved the short pauses when he just wiggled his hips to make you shake in arousal, you lived for those small moments when he stopped to smile at you as he just pulled out and then came back in full force, making you squirm. This man was a piece of art and no-one could tell you otherwise.

"Can I come?" - You asked with a teasing smile on your lips, basically touching your ribs with your knees. You didn't know how Jim pulled that one off during each of these sessions, but he turned you into a fucking gymnast when he had his dick buried deep within you.

"Not unless I say so, I'm the law in this cabin." - Jim got out through his gritted teeth when he pulled your ankle on his shoulder, kissing it. - "Put your hand in use, I wanna try somethin' nasty I heard of from Callahan. You're gonna tell me once it'd raise a red flag." - Jim whispered you and you nodded frantically, feeling the rhythm fasten up. You put your hand on your clit, flicking it as a damn DJ vinyl and then you felt it and you screamed, making Hopper completely freeze down with shock in his eyes.

His thumb gently rubbed the back entrance - not getting in, just slowly rubbed around it. You opened up your mouth and your heart rate was literally over the top.

"You didn't like that, am I rite?" - He whispered while breathing heavily, still gently moving inside of you.

"I swear that I didn't know where this came from. It's strange... But that doesn't think I didn't like it. I just need to try more of that." - You reassured him quietly, wiggling your lips a bit.

So he tried it again. You felt a strange tightness every time he brushed over that spot. It made you jump a bit, pulling your buttcheeks together for a small second. You closed your eyes and made a high-pitched noise, shaking a bit. This was giving you a completely different dimension of love-making. It was hugging your whole torso, it wrapped around your head and made your heart beat faster. And then, without any warning, you came.

To be honest, you were basically yelling his name and you banged the back of your head into the table as you did so, shaking a good five minutes after Jim ended with you. You barely knew that Jim came on your belly and boobs because you were out of the world, your head was spinning. Damn this was a sweet treat.

"I think we need to do anniversary sex more often." - You mumbled tiredly, having your eyes closed. The whole feeling was so endearing for you that you couldn't imagine any other way Hopper could fuck you any better. He outdid himself literally every time. - "And I need to thank Callahan, because, holy fucking shit."

"I was that good?" - Jim asked cockily, making you sit up to clean you up with one of the towels.

"This was the best sex I've ever fucking had." - You smiled lazily, pulling him for another kiss. - "And I love you so damn much."

"Same here. But we should put you to sleep or you'd fall asleep right on this table and... I have to clean this damn place up because I promised to." - Jim smiled at you, hugging you tightly, letting your arms circle around his waist.

You were just two people in love and nothing could feel better at that moment.

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