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neowinestainedress · 4 months ago

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wave | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, mentioned weed consumption, alcohol use, fingering, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, public sex, jealous sex, bickering, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 22.4k (out of 42k)

a/n: finally i’m back! i started this fic more than a year ago so seeing it finally come to life means everything to me. i had so much fun writing it, so i hope you’ll love it too. please, let me know with comments, reblogs (that also help reach more people), or anon. i love knowing what you think. enjoy! also if there are formatting mistakes please let me know cause i’ve been having problems posting this and i copied it without editing it once again.

masterpost (with visuals and playlist) (i can’t post the link or else the post doesn’t show up in the tags, but you can find it on my profile)

Being number one in your academy isn’t a want, but a need.

You didn’t spend your entire life crafting your skills and splitting yourself between the books and the training room for all of that to be swept under the rug when you finally made it to your dream university; Neo Arts Academy.

Surely, with the prizes promised to those on top, you aren’t the only one with that racing passion to drive you through each day. Tons of people try their best, and even put their health at risk to reach the biggest success, but you manage to focus on yourself and keep your life in a pretty healthy balance.

You managed to focus on you… until something, well, somebody, started to come into your way.

Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, his stage name —if he ever made it big in the industry he wanted to be already known.

You never paid him much attention. Honestly, you never paid attention to anybody, your only goal was to take care of your small garden and top everybody else, but when his competitiveness got the best of him, you just couldn’t push him in the back of your mind.

Apparently, his goals are the same as yours, and that isn’t a nice thing considering how competitive your world is. You first truly glanced at him during a songwriting lesson, when he huffed a bit too loudly behind you while he announced to his friend, probably named Mark, that he sucked at writing songs. However, you only chuckled mindlessly that time and went on with your day.

That was your first year there and everything went fine. Then the second year arrived and you applied for your minor degree in dance and that was when Donghyuck’s presence started to be louder. You had nothing against him, but you quickly learned he couldn’t stand you for some reason. Rumours were quick at flying around, being passed from mouth to ear and you knew them.

You simply couldn’t care.

Yet.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. He could never do that. After all, he doesn’t even know you. But he does know something about you. He knows your name, and how it is always on top of his in any ranking. He knows you will always win the contests he wants to win so badly. He knows you are good at theory and practice. He knows he just can’t win with you.

He also knows nothing can touch you. Not because you are unreachable and believe you’re superior to others. Actually, you are very modest about all your academic success, but you always walk straight on your road with the goal perfectly in the line of view.

Haechan doesn’t hate you. Though, lately, he has a strange feeling in his body every time he sits at his desk to study and his only motivation is to surpass you. Nothing different than the first months there, he got pretty soon you were going to be a tough but nice competitor, but fuck he never imagined you would be so hard to beat. Now that after a year he never won or got the top grade and always came second after you, you aren’t motivating him, you are driving him insane.

He doesn’t have many distractions, but he has friends, some hobbies outside of university, and even a part-time job. But you? Is there something that is distracting you? Is there anything that could distract you? He has no idea, not now that he is watching you walk into the room, ready for the classical ballet history class —yes, of course out of all the minors, you had to choose his— and sit a few rows in front of him, all alone as always, taking out your lilac book note and your pen.

Haechan has no idea, but he is going to find out something that can easily distract you and push out of your path.

You know people think of university as a moment to socialise, but being on your own has never been a problem for you. You have contacts with some of your hometown friends, and most importantly, you don’t mind doing things alone; you can go to the cinema when you want, you can pick whatever restaurant you like, you can take a walk, or stay at home.

You’ve always been comfortable in your bubble, and you’d like to keep it that way, but life has strange plans.

“Damn, always on a rush.” You recognize Haechan’s voice, but you don’t bother turning around because you’re sure he’s not addressing you. You think it’s weird he’s sitting next to you, but you blink the surprise away and grab your tablet from your bag. “Whoever put music theory at 8:30 in the morning on a Monday needs to go to jail.”

You chuckle at his comment, subtly rolling your eyes before opening the note app to go where you left it in the previous lesson.

“You write a lot.” This time you’re quite sure he’s talking to you, so your neck turns to look at him and you find him closer than you’d like him to be.

“I annotate, it’s just the essentials.”

He scans the notes quickly before scoffing. “The essentials? I don’t write as half as that.”

“Well, I think this is essential, but we all work differently,” while you’re answering him, you don’t even notice that his friend is not beside him, and you get lost in him for a second, mostly in the scent that’s filling your nostrils now that his brown jacket is so close to you.

“The professor talks too fast, how the fu— how do you get everything?” He stops himself from cursing and backs away, finally making you breathe some air that is not filled with his intoxicating perfume.

“I rewrite phrases. And, to be sure, I record the lessons, so I can re-listen to them in case something doesn’t make sense when I study them. And then I also re-write the not—”

“You record the lessons?” He almost snarls with his eyes bulging out of his skull as he, once again, stands too close to you.

“Is it illegal?” Your head tilts to the side as genuine curiosity blooms on your face.

“No, it’s… it’s…” he sighs, throwing his head back and cursing something under his breath in a tight dialect you don’t recognize. “I never thought about it.”

“Oh, well, it helps me a lot. Sometimes when I’m too tired to read I just play the lessons and memorize stuff while I do other things,” you smile, moving your hair to one side of your neck before grabbing the pen when the professor walks in. “You should try.”

“Oh, you can be sure I will.”

Haechan can’t be so stupid. He can’t believe he can be so stupid. Why didn’t he ever, ever, think about that? That’s a smart idea, better than crying and cursing when he tries to understand what he wrote down on paper when he revisits the notes, or asking Mark if he wrote some phrases he had marked down with several question marks or dots to fill —dots that he never fills.

But he’s still sure he can’t be a terrible student, he had always been on top of his classes, always aced them and his study method worked… but what if yours worked better? Given the results of the past year, and the start of this one, the answer is clear: yours do work better.

But he doesn’t think that it’s the only reason you are beating him in everything. What if you have other tricks?

Haechan is going to find out.

You always believed your only competition was yourself. You never liked to engage with other people and fight them or fear them. But Haechan had given you no choice.

It was an open threat at you when he purposefully told you a different day to turn in an assignment when you were sick, you had no choice but to fight back.

That was when Haechan truly became your rival. He had always been, you two were always at the top, fighting for the first place and the big prizes, but now it was a matter of pride.

Haechan had officially made it on top of your blacklist, at least he could arrive number one in something, not like there was a big competition to be in there, in fact, you didn’t even have one before he pushed your last nerve.

Fucking it up with you wasn’t Haechan’s plan, he wanted to befriend you and trick you into giving him some magic tricks, but things went… wrong. With Mark by his side, it was impossible to sit next to you. During songwriting you got up and sat on another seat in the middle of the lesson with the excuse of ‘not seeing from afar’, and he couldn’t approach you in any other circumstances. So, when you got sick for three days, he thought he could, for once, steal your spotlight.

He wasn’t sure you were sick, but he was sure enough you weren’t going to miss lessons days to study or work on projects; you never needed extra time, unfortunately, he knew it well. So the only thing that could lock you in your place was an illness of some kind. He did feel bad when you came back four days later and asked him if you missed something, he could see you still weren’t at your best, and he could’ve tried his luck by telling you the truth, hoping that the precarious state you were in was going to make you come up with a terrible essay on an instrument of the 18th century, but his eagerness got the best of him, and he lied.

So he had officially screwed his plan of getting closer to you.

“You are an asshole,” you scream, slamming the books in front of him on the table in the garden, not caring about his friends staring at you in shock. “And don’t look at me with that face of ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ because you know what I’m referring to.”

“I don’t, though…” he whispers, trying to keep a distance between you because you look scary —half bent on the table, furrowed forehead, pointing finger— and he thinks you are very motivated to reach over his neckline and strangle him.

You roll your eyes, groaning in annoyance. “You told me Professor Kim left an essay for Monday, I thought I could use the weekend to do an amazing job and he called me to his office because I was three days late.”

Haechan gulps, and the table goes silent, you feel his friends’ gazes on you but they are the last thing in your mind.

“Mind to explain?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You have to ask me if you are an asshole because your mother didn’t put a brain in your skull?”

“Hey, take it back!” He warns with a pointing finger, glaring at you.

“No,” you retort, crossing your arms on your chest and standing up straight. “You sabotaged me.”

“You are making things up. Maybe you should be in the creative writing major,” Haechan taunts, a shit-eating grin on his face.

You gasp offended, clenching your fists to avoid wrapping your hands around his neck. “You — you — ugh,” you huff. “This paper was graded! And you knew it, it’s part of the mid-course work he adds to our final grade. Why would you do that to me?”

“You think I did that on purpose?”

“When did you turn it in?” You ask and when his eyes widen you scream at his face. “See! You turned it on time. I fucking hate you!”

“I didn’t answer,” he tries to defend, a challenging edge in his voice, getting to your nerves more than the look on his face.

“First of all, I can see it in your face. You’re trying to look surprised and even scared, but you’re having the time of your life because, guess what, you can’t surpass me if you don’t play your stupid games.”

He snorts offended, gulping before leaning closer. “You think I can’t beat you?”

“It’s not what I think, it’s what the rankings say, it’s what our professors say, and it’s what all the external opportunities I’ve got say. But if you want to try to prove facts wrong, bring it on,” you shrug, grabbing your things and taking a step back. “No more dirty games from now on, Lee Donghyuck. Trust me, you don’t want me to start playing them too, you might not even see the top three if I do.”

The months to come are fire. You should keep minding your business but as soon as he opens his mouth in class you can’t press your lips together and fake it. You try, every time, but you fail.

“I just mean that the melody is what attracts people,” he argues during a discussion in the songwriting class.

You huff, shaking your head. “People care about the lyrics more.”

He scoffs loudly and the professor glares at him for the reaction but he still goes on. “People won’t listen to a song if the production sucks.”

You turn around, eyebrows pressed in a furrow. “And they won’t listen to a song if the lyrics are dumb, or tell a bad message.”

“Really? Catchy pop music is a thing even if you want so badly to maintain the purity of the art of music with only lyrical depth.”

“I love catchy pop songs, but there’s something objective in music and something subjective, if you paid attention to any of our classes you should know, right?”

The class holds back a laugh and the professor coughs, making you utter an apologize, more addressed to her than your enemy.

“Oh, trust me, I paid attention to class,” he retorts, mockingly smiling at you. “And we’re not talking about the quality but the appeal. People remember the rhythm of the song or the tune more than they remember the words.”

“And words can hold so much meaning for someone they will stick to them forever. Also, lyrics can have different interpretations and if you’re a good writer you can make one song fit for more occasions.”

“That’s dumb,” he says, looking at you up and down after scoffing. “Notes can transfer different emotions, what you said just doesn’t make sense, please.”

“Can we tone it down?” Professor Park warns, glaring at the both of you.

You nod and mutter another apology before speaking up again, “I believe that a good melody can easily attract people at first listen, but if we talk about the long run, a memorable song also needs good lyrics. And Mariah Carey herself said how being a songwriter makes your career last more, so I think it’s telling coming from one of the best voices ever.”

“I think you both make a great point,” the professor cuts the conversation off before you can jump at each other’s throat again. “It would be interesting to make a deeper analysis and maybe break down songs and compare data over time. If it was possible to keep the decorum…” she whispers the last word and you want to disappear because you hate the scene you gave. “But we need to move on with our lesson, so, as I was saying…”

Out of all the heated discussions you had in class, the one about the importance of production and lyrics, led to your worst nightmare, working on a project with him. Professor Park was so nice to pair you together because she wanted to see how your different points of view would’ve worked in the song you had to write and produce and even if you smiled and said, ‘it will be really motivating,’ to avoid yelling at her face, now you want to die.

You’re sure the first two knocks on the door don’t even reach the other side; your hits are too weak and the small apartment in that complex is too loud for anyone to hear. Is this the environment you have to work in today?

You roll your eyes and knock again, this time making sure it’s impossible for them not to hear you. You wait there only for a few seconds and then the door opens, revealing a boy your age you can’t remember.

“Oh, hi,” he cheers, big toothy smile beaming at you. “You must be here for Hyuck, right?”

You hum, nodding and murmuring, “Yes, I have to work on a project with Haechan.”

“Come in.”

You step inside the house and look around briefly before your eyes fall on the table in the small living room; there are books everywhere, headphones on the ground, boxes of food and empty water bottles, and most importantly talks too loud for four boys that were supposedly studying.

“Mark, can you lower the music?”

“Music is what I’m studying, I can’t,” the man you know well replies. “Why don’t you keep your pencil close to you? Jesus, there’s graphite everywhere.”

“You’re so annoying, I can’t go in my room, Jeno still didn’t take down the light boxes,” the brown-haired replies, sending a death glare to the boy at his side who quickly replies to his defence.

“Hey, I finished shooting half an hour ago and now I have an essay to write, leave me alone.”

“They’re entertaining, aren’t they?” Haechan’s voice brings you out of the haze of his bickering friends, their conversation fades in the background while your anger level rises just seeing his face when you turn around.

“Surely more entertaining than you,” you retort before taking a step forward, pretending to know where to go in that house.

Haechan rolls his eyes, thanking his friend who opened the door —Jaemin— and coming next to you. “You don’t know where my room is yet, so if you’d like to follow me.”

You trail behind him, waving at the men around the table but it’s clear that none of them even noticed your presence. Luckily for you, Donghyuck’s room is at the end of the corridor and the mess that goes down in the other room is not hearable enough to make your day a living hell.

“So, do you have anything in mind?” He asks after you sit at one of the chairs at his desk.

You shake your head, fixing your skirt and pulling out some things you might need from your bag. “Wanted to hear from you first. Since the melody is so crucial, we should start from that,” you mock in a fake-sweet tone, and you feel his glare on your skin.

“You truly are a pain in the ass, you know?” He scoffs, moving his hair out of his face, gaze fixed on you.

“And for what? Because I agreed with your theory?”

“If you have a melody in mind it’s easier to make the words flow.”

“If the melody has nothing to do with the idea, you only have some notes and not a song.”

Now that there aren’t rows of chairs dividing you, the heated argument has led you face to face, literally. And you feel your heart pound in your chest from the anger and, also because it’s weird to be this close to a stranger you can’t stand.

“Okay, Miss Taylor Swift, why don’t you enlighten me and show me what you got?”

You glare at him but he’s unfazed, holding the eye contact proudly. “My lyrics will be better than your production.”

“And are those lyrics in the room with us?”

“God,” you groan, throwing your hands in the air and your head back. “You drive me insane.”

“And you are pretentious and still never prove all the things that that little, bratty, annoying mouth of yours says.”

Deep creases show on your forehead, and you have to turn around because if you see his face for a second more you will slap him. But you want this project done, you have four weeks to turn it in, but you want this torture to be over as soon as possible, so you know you have to put the pettiness aside.

“If we want a great result and good grades, we need good lyrics and a good melody,” you say, calmly facing him again, slowly watching as his face softens. “My words and your production. I don’t care what comes to us first, if you think it can be useful, we could even brainstorm some tunes and catchphrases and then build it around it.”

“Now you’re making some sense,” he exclaims, smiling widely before patting the top of your head. “So that head is not empty.”

“Oh, seriously? I’m trying to have a truce, and you fuck it all up again?”

“No, sorry, I just think you’re really smart when it comes to college but a bit annoying when it comes to life.”

“You’re just mad you can’t beat me.”

“I can,” he retorts smugly.

“Then why don’t you do it?” You tease, cocking your head to the side.

Haechan scoffs, lips twitching in a quick smirk before he wets them. “I didn’t yet, but are you so sure I won’t?” He whispers, breath colliding with your lips and nose brushing yours, your brain doesn’t even register his hands on your legs right away, only when his fingers caress your bare skin right above the hem you wake up from the haze of having him so close.

“Time will — time will prove us,” you say, turning to the desk and scratching your neck. “Time will tell us, not prove us.”

Haechan snickers, moving closer to see on your tablet where you opened the notes, and smiles smugly. He thinks he found a way to distract you.

The project isn’t done in the first week, and to put a cherry on top, Professor Park decides to make it the big project for the end of the class, adding a cover for the single, a plan to sponsor it, and, if someone feels brave enough, even to record it. Even if you wanted to, a thing this big, and now with so much weight on the final grade, can’t be done in one week.

Yet, you think you’ll have to deal with Haechan only on your weekly meet-ups for that project and during lessons, you never imagined you would have to deal with him even during your library study on Wednesday.

“Why are you studying in the middle of the week?”

“You know, if I had to replicate a sound every time we start a conversation it would be ‘and now, I just want to sit back and relax and enjoy my evening, when all of a sudden I hear this agitating grating voice,’ and that is the sound that plays in my mind, actually.”

“Grating? Really?”

“Well, it’s the quote but it fits,” you reply sternly, bringing your attention back to the book. “Also, the question is not, why am I studying, but why aren’t you? How will you beat me if you don’t?” You wink, laughing under your breath. You don’t even need to see his reaction; you know his jaw tenses and his nostrils flare for a brief second every time you tease him.

You hear the chair in front of you scratch on the floor, and deeply hope he’s not sitting on it. But Haechan is sitting on it, staring at you as if he could steal the information from your brain and pass it to his.

“I am studying.”

“No, you’re not,” you reply, eyes widening when he rips a page from your notebook and a pen from your case. “So, what have you learned since now?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes to the sky and instead run a hand on your face while sighing deeply. There’s just no way to get rid of him, right?

“You don’t even know what I’m studying.”

“Sound design,” he replies promptly, and you look down to see if he could’ve gotten a grasp from your books but there’s a paper on it and there’s not much written on it. Haechan smiles and moves to the chair next to you. “It’s because I started it too, there are too many notions, it would be a suicide to wait for the finals.”

“Oh, so you do something else other than think about me,” you tease, nudging him with your leg.

“Hey! I don’t think about you,” he replies firmly, frowning.

“Sure,” you huff, waving him off. “So, what do you know?”

“Well, all the basis we learnt last year, so the definition of sound, the path it follows, how it’s perceived based on the medium and how fast it travels through them, slowest through gases, faster through liquids, and fastest through solids, and that temperature effects it as well.”

You smile, content with the reply but you want to test him more. “What about the five characteristics of sound?”

“You think that’s a difficult one?” He asks, almost disappointed at the easiness of your question.

“Well, if you want to impress me so bad, I could ask you to list all the types of compressors?”

“You already know that?” He questions, quirking a brow, trying to think why he doesn’t remember them. “Wait, we didn’t do that in class.”

You laugh. “See, you’re witty. No, we haven’t done that yet, but since you love producing so much, I thought you knew it as personal knowledge.”

“Why do you talk as if you don’t want to do the same job as mine?” There’s a bit of annoyance in his tone, but there’s genuine curiosity in his eyes.

You shrug, pressing your lips together before diverting your gaze.

Haechan gasps. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what you want to do, yet, because I won’t believe it.”

“It’s not that I don’t know,” you reply, a low huff leaving your lips. “I’d like to try different things out, being a PR manager sounds interesting too. And I’m also pretty good at dancing, so that could be a career path.”

“It’s a shame we didn’t start practical courses, I would love to see you dance.”

“Yeah, sure, so you can mock me some more,” you groan.

He shakes his head. “No, you wouldn’t enroll in a program if you weren’t absolutely perfect at it, so I can’t come at your skills.”

“You’re so kind, I think I might love you,” you mock, moving closer to him and pouting before pushing him away with a light push on his chest and focusing on your papers again.

“And by the way, I know the characteristics of sound,” he says, right next to your face.

You smile and think to yourself that this might be fun. “Good, go on and tell me.”

You don’t get why Haechan’s roommate bicker so much. Not that you could lecture them when, as soon as you walk inside his room, your talks won’t be much different than theirs (worse, probably). But you think you and Haechan, at least, have a reason to fight so much. His roommates are… weird. They are close. They all are, in an annoying way almost, always moving in packs and breaking their back to meet up even if their institutes are scattered around in the Academy. Yet, they get heated pretty easily when they sit in the living room, and you can only blame it on stress as you chuckle, standing against the countertop with a glass of water in hand.

“Donghyuck left you all alone?” Jeno enters the kitchen, distracting you from Renjun screaming at his painting and Mark cursing while he tries to come up with a melody for a small assignment you decided to not worry about —you have Haechan to worry about now.

“Yep, told me to be here at 2 pm just to be in the shower instead,” you reply with a tight smile on your face that makes him laugh and scroll the black hair out of his face.

“My fault,” he explains while pouring himself a glass. “I convinced him to stay at the basketball field when we finished and he couldn’t meet up with you smelling like rotten leftovers forgotten under the august sun.”

“Creative writing?” You ask after you chuckle at his description.

“Nope, photography, Renjun’s worst nightmare.”

You laugh. “It’s because you leave all those big things around his room, right?”

“Our room,” he says, empathising on the first word.

“Okay, communism king, your room but I don’t think your comrade is happy about it.”

Jeno laughs, and hums before gulping down a sip of water. “I’m not rich yet to afford a studio so he’ll have to deal with his bestie working, sweating, and crying his way to the top.”

“You could’ve been a nepo baby and have everything handed to you.”

“Sucks not to be one. I wouldn’t even bother being in Uni, just leaving my best life with my camera and daddy’s money.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Haechan says entering the kitchen, hair still damp and casual housewear on.

“None of your business,” you reply, placing the glass in the sink and walking to the door. “Come on, we have a song to create. It could be our first Billboard number one.”

Haechan sighs, snatching the bottle of water from Jeno’s hand, briefly confused at his grinning face, and then follows you quickly.

“Are you trying to hit on my friends?” He asks, closing the door behind.

“Would you mind?”

“Yes, I’d hate having to deal with you in our group hangouts.”

“You already deal with me. More than you should since you always come to me even when we could not be together,” you say, tilting your head to the side, and sitting on your assigned chair. “Are you perhaps jealous? Do you want me all to yourself?”

“Nah, you can go and fuck all of them right no—”

“Okay,” you don’t even let him finish and you’re at the door, but he springs after you and stops you.

“What are you doing? I was kidding!”

“Why? Since when you can tell me what to do?”

Haechan groans and drags you back to your place, but he doesn’t sit just yet, he’s bent over to be close to you. “I need you here with me to work on this goddam song, and then you can go and have a gangbang in the living room, I don’t care.”

“You’d be mad you won’t be part of it,” you joke, having the time of your life watching his pissed-off expression as he stomps loudly back at his place. “Accept that you will never win with me, and maybe you won’t be so triggered every time we talk.”

“Shit, it’s late,” you murmur, lifting your head from the lyrics you’re trying to write down. Now you got the theme —it’s a love song that you hope won’t turn lame— and even a faint idea of a tune, and while Haechan tried to get inspired by other songs and tried instruments he wants to add to the track, you worked on the words.

“Don’t you think we’re trying too hard?” He whispers, placing the guitar on his bed before standing up and stretching.

“What do you mean?” You ask, lifting your neck so you can look at him after you turn around on the rotating chair.

“Music should come to you, it should be… spontaneous.”

You’d want to roll your eyes, mostly for the spontaneous part, but he’s right. Most artists don’t think about the songs they make, the song comes to their mind when they’re not thinking about it.

“Yes, but do you think we’re doing such a shitty job with this?”

He shakes his head, walking closer to you. “Not totally, I just think that if we want to be on top, we have to work around it differently.”

You gulp when he hovers over you and grips the side of the chair tightly. “Like?”

“We should… relax. Take our mind off of it and just wait for it to come,” he glances at the desk, studying the crumpled tries you gave up on and the only three phrases you were happy with written on the tablet. “We should get inspired,” he whispers, and you’re once again so focused on his face that you don’t feel his hand on your thigh, under the long black skirt you’re wearing, it surely must’ve been on you for a while if the fabric was already crumpled up and his fingers teased the hem of your panties between your hips and stomach.

“Is — is this how you inspire people?” You ask, glancing down with a rising chest but for some reason not pulling away.

“Don’t know, I’ve never done it before,” he chuckles, slowly moving closer to your core, observing the small signs of your body. “Should we see if it works?”

You hate him. You should be working on that lyric for the last half hour you have left. You hate him. He’s making it impossible for you to stick to your ‘minding my business’ plan that had worked through all your school years. You hate him, you do, and yet you nod, humming a feeble ‘yes,’ in response.

“Good,” rolls out of his lips, and it sounds so different from his usual tone, you can’t help but feel hot.

Your nails sink in the chair when his fingers slip right against your clit after he had your consent and starts teasing it.

“So, it’s a love song…” he says, and you frown, heart pumping louder as for a second you think he led you on and you looked like a pathetic horny loser, but his hand is still playing with your pussy and his face is still close to yours. “Chose that because you have somebody in mind?”

“We literally picked it for a reason last week, you —”

“God,” he shushes you up, pushing the panties to the side and teasing your entrance, it’s already damp, but not enough how he wants it. “Can you stop being so rational for once? I know why we picked it; remember I’m trying to inspire you.”

“Wait, you really think some fingering can inspire me to write a love so—” your words shut down when he places a hand on your mouth, eyes widening but pussy leaking an embarrassing amount of cum.

He quirks a brow in surprise and, shortly after, a smug smirk curls his lips. “Oh, so you’re into that?”

You can’t reply, but even if you could’ve, you’re not sure you would’ve said anything.

“So, anybody in mind?”

You shake your head. Your love life has been anything but exciting, and after a few tries, you were sure it wasn’t what you needed to focus on, especially because nobody sparked your interest. Nobody was worth moving your focus from your studies.

“Great, so I guess that’ll have to be me.”

“What?” You mutter muffled, closing your legs and moving on the chair.

Haechan rolls his eyes in his skull, keeping you in place. “Oh, come on, you can fake it for a few minutes. Don’t act disgusted, I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he says.

“Not yet.”

“I’m knuckle-deep inside you,” he retorts after he pushes into you with two fingers, staring right into your eyes.

You bite back a moan and a curse under your breath. “Fine, but I don’t want to think,” you say. “Just, prove it to me. If you’re good, I’ll be inspired and I’ll come up with the lyrics, if you suck, we’ll go back to our original method.”

Haechan hates that he constantly has to prove things to you, and he hates even more that he does it, almost as if he’s your dog and he has to follow your orders while you keep him on a leash. But if this will work to come up with a great song, and in his outer-songwriting-course-plan to distract you, he won’t complain.

Honestly, he couldn’t complain even if it only meant to finger you. He might want to fight you every time he sees your face but, damn, what a face.

“Shit,” you moan. You don’t want to give him too much satisfaction, but he knows what he’s doing and it’s been way too long since someone touched you like that. Damn, even since you touched yourself like that. Maybe the whole ‘staring at your goals’ was taking some funny things away from you.

“Do you want to turn the song into a Hozier song?”

You huff, you just asked him one thing and his mouth is running again doing the opposite. “You wish you were this good to inspire a Hozier type of song.”

“Really?” He taunts, pressing his thumb on your clit, starting to tease the throbbing nub in circles.

“Yes,” your voice trembles, but your face shows confidence.

Haechan snickers, quickening the pace of his fingers, watching you fight against yourself to not show how much you’re loving it. “One second of this mouth on your pussy and I’d make you change your mind,” he whispers right against your ears, hot breath fanning your skin. “It’s a shame you don’t deserve it.”

You groan, head rolling back in disappointment, and that makes him laugh.

“You have to think twice before running that mouth, babe. Especially with me.”

“Never,” you talk back, opening your eyes and regretting as soon as they meet his. His gaze is too intense, and your brain is too far gone to keep it up.

Haechan only grins, enjoying your wrecked face and the sounds your pussy is making as his fingers keep working on you. You might try to deny him, but your body is speaking to him, and deeply so are you. It’s in your eyes, and your lips trembling, and in the beautiful moans that are rolling out of your tongue.

“Are you close, brat?”

You don’t have it in you to complain, or retort, the orgasm is right around the corner and you fear he would ruin the experience if you said something out of line.

“Answer me,” he orders, lightly slapping your thigh.

“Yes,” you breathe out, biting your lower lip to prevent the whole house from hearing you.

“Good,” he replies, smiling proudly and starting to move faster in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot every time he reaches the base, and torturing your clit with his thumb. And when it’s too much for you, you come. Body trembling against the chair, and legs pushing up as the shocks of pleasure run through you.

“Acid when you talk but sweet to taste,” he hums after pulling out his fingers from his mouth and you only glare at him as you quickly try to get yourself together again.

“It’s late,” he says, staring at the clock. “Go home and let me know if this was useful somehow. And not by replaying it in your mind at night wishing I was there with you.” He winks and you slap his shoulder hard. “What the hell!”

“I won’t come up with anything on purpose, and I swear if you keep being so annoying, I’ll be terrible at this.”

“You would never, this makes up like 80% of our final grade.” He challenges you with a glare.

“If I go down, you go down with me,” you retort, face to face, fiercely looking into his eyes.

“It’s not smart of you.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” you smile sweetly before it drops from your face. “It’s a threat.”

It’s not like you’re trying to avoid him after what happened, but that’s exactly what’s going on. You don’t regret the act per se, you just can’t believe it was so easy for you to agree to do that with him. And you know he will use it against you for eternity.

A very dumb move from your side to give him the possibility to tease you even more and about something you couldn’t defend yourself from.

But if you try your best to change corridors when you see him from afar, walk quickly back to your dorm room, and sit on the opposite side in class (you fail at keeping your mouth quiet, but you need to discuss with him during lessons), it seems like he’s doing everything he can to be on your path.

“I’m starting to believe you’re a stalker,” you huff, clearly scaring him when you stop abruptly in the middle of the library and make him stop in his tracks.

“I’m not.”

You raise a brow, staring at him until he huffs and throws his hands up in the air. “Fine, fine, I was following you but only because I wanted to know what you will study.”

“Why do you care so much about what I study?”

“So I know how to beat you?”

“Isn’t it more exciting if you beat me only using your brain by putting some knowledge in it without seeing my cards?” You say, pushing a finger on his chest and making him walk backwards until his back hits the bookshelf behind him.

“I think sneaky games are funnier, though,” he whispers, hand moving to rest on your side. “Especially with you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, and taking a step back, freeing yourself from his hold. “The games you’re playing are not sneaky. Why are you always in my business?”

He shrugs. “Why not? So, what are we studying today?”

“We are not studying together.”

“Why? Isn’t it funny? The same study method, same hours, but one of us will be better than the other. That’s a truly equal comparison.”

You run a hand on your face and keep walking to find what you need. “If you didn’t distract me every two seconds, I would’ve already been like five pages into my studying session.”

“Oh, please, you are wondering around the library anyway. I’m just keeping you company.” His body follows yours like a shadow, his heat radiating so close to your skin that you think you might go insane.

“I don’t want your company,” you say, moving your eyes swiftly over the books in front of you as you try to find what you are looking for in the sociology section. When you finally find it, reminding yourself you have to buy it so you can annotate directly on yours, you walk back to your table, but Haechan is still beside you like a puppy on a string. “Can’t you just leave me alone?”

“I could, and I’d want to, but I can’t,” he says, sitting at your side, smiling widely when you glare at him.

“This is a useless lesson for you,” you try to dismiss him.

“Is it? Because we have the same ones.”

“Jesus, okay, fine,” you give up, throwing your head back and raising your voice enough to make some heads turn in your direction. His biggest talent is to exasperate you. “But we give ourselves a timing, and then when we’re done, we’ll have to answer five questions.”

“And who answers to them all?” He asks, there’s a taunting edge in his voice, and a grin on his face.

“Is the best,” you reply as if it’s obvious.

“Yeah, but there should be a prize.”

“Being better than you is the prize.”

Haechan scoffs, and he hates to admit in his mind that he finds your snarky remarks so fucking hot, if you weren’t in a public library and if his job on earth wasn’t to detest you, he would’ve already had you bent on the table.

“I love how you’re always so sure of being better than me.”

You snicker and send him a flying kiss. “Honey, I am better than you.”

“Wait, I just left out a detail!” You almost scream when you compare your answers for the nth time because you can’t believe he has done slightly better than you.

“That detail is important,” Haechan replies unfazed by your indignation.

“No, it’s not. We would have the same score if this was graded,” you insist, feeling more angered than you should. It’s nothing serious, it shouldn’t be serious, but with him, there’s your pride on the line.

“But this is between me and you, so I win. Also, my phrasing in the second answer is better than yours.”

“Shut up, it’s not.”

“It is, and you just have to admit you lost,” he insists, leaning over, staring at you with a challenging raised brow.

You swallow, eyebrows furrowing, and then you sigh. “Your advantage is minimal. And you only won a battle, because I’m winning a war.”

“Fine, Napoleon, I still won and you’re coming to my place even Saturday so we can do this some more.”

“Hey, Napoleon sucked! He lost the most important battles, the only ones he should’ve won.”

“That’s why I called you that,” he winks, clicking his tongue mockingly.

“Oh, you think you will win the war? You’re wrong, honey, Waterloo is yours.”

Haechan laughs, standing up after putting his things in his bag. “I’m waiting for you on Saturday…” he says and before you can complain he starts singing, “Waterloo, I was defeated, you won the war…”

“Oh, shut up!” You say, hitting his arm as you push him away, but he giggles and walks away continuing with the tune.

“Waterloo, promise to love you forevermore. Waterloo, couldn’t escape if I wanted to…”

And you think that if only he didn’t try to sabotage your final grades in Music History, you might even find him funny.

Haechan hates you.

If he was sure he didn’t before, he is sure that he does now.

He can’t wrap his head around the fact that you, Miss zero social skills, and negative 100 friends, can be so good at debating. On every fucking topic. You’re well-spoken, witty, smart, somehow it looks like you know everything about everything. And even when you don’t know (and you always specify it — which he shouldn’t find so hot, but he does) you always come up with perfectly thought theories and analyses coming from the small knowledge you have on the topic. The thing he also hates is that you never sound like you’re showing off your skills, it’s just really nice to listen to you and —when he’s not the one intervening against you— you’re the sweetest person ever and everybody in every class absolutely adores you.

He wonders if you’re a robot. Maybe you’re some sort of artificial intelligence sent there to conduct studies on humans’ stupidity, and he was unlucky enough to start a fight with you. You just don’t seem real. And he’d love to dig deeper but he doubts he will find anything relevant.

You might be smart, but you also look incredibly boring. He tried to find out if you had interests, or anything that could distract you, but his research led nowhere. The biggest problem is that he hates you, but not to the point that he wants to get you suspended from University, so he has to find another way to make you slip.

Apparently, you’re playing the same game, but even at this, you are thinking faster and smarter.

“Where the fuck are all my anthropology notes?” Haechan mutters as he looks through his library, moving books and notebooks around, thinking he has gone insane. “Mark!” He screams, rushing to the desk to search again but he knows where he left everything; on the second shelf of the small library in his room, on top of the music theory book that hasn’t moved since a week.

“Yes?” His housemate peaks from the door only with his head.

“Did you mistake our notes?”

“What notes?” Mark furrows, backing away from his friend who looks out of his mind.

“The anthropology notes,” he says, voice full of annoyance because, why does Mark never know anything? He’s in the same course and, yet, he’s always somewhere else with his head.

“Man, I don’t even take notes during that lesson.”

“What do you mean you don’t? Ugh, never mind,” Haechan groans, rolling his eyes because he can’t believe he can’t count on anybody. “Have you seen them somewhere?”

“Nope,” Mark replies, entering the room. “I mean, I don’t know what they look like.”

“You know right we have a test tomorrow? The winter break is close, and some courses have it. You are studying, right?”

“Yeah, just not every…thing…”

Haechan rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Why don’t you like it? I mean, I know it’s not really music related but it teaches you so much about other cultures and there’s a whole part about how music is different from culture to culture.”

“Next semester, we didn’t get there, yet. It’s a bunch of complicated terminology and theories I just don’t get,” Mark defends. He never understood why Haechan loved studying so much. He is only there for the music, and a few other theoretical lessons, but some courses don’t make any sense to him.

“So you plan on being terrible tomorrow?”

“I just want a decent result; I don’t strive for perfection like you and your girlie.”

Haechan almost chokes on his saliva. “My girlie? Who’s my girlie?”

“That girl in class you always get into heated arguments with, and then she comes here and I’m pretty sure you make out when no one’s watching,” Mark says so calmly it infuriates Haechan more than if he was teasing him.

“Shut the hell up! She’s my mortal enemy and while you have been paired with Yangyang for the song project, Professor Park thought it was nice putting her and me together.”

“Yeah, you can still make out with your mortal enemy,” he snorts, hitting his friend with a playful elbow hit.

“Mark, shut up and leave, I have to study,” he tries to cut short, pushing his friend out of the room.

“With what notes?”

“I don’t know. I left them on the shelf, and nobody entered my room since Saturday when she — Oh, my God.”

When your name resonates in the empty classroom after you’ve taken the anthropology test, your blood freezes for a second.

“Haechannie,” you cheer cheekily, turning around and pushing your tote bag far up your shoulders.

“Don’t,” he warns, lifting a finger to stop you from starting anything. “I have to talk to you.”

“Sure, the test was easy, right? You might have beaten me this time,” you say but you have to hold back a laugh when you scan his furious, pissed-off expression.

“Yeah, if you studied, it was,” he retorts venously.

“And you surely studied,” you say, faking innocence.

“You can study when you have something to study on,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, and you do,” you still play dumb, but when he calls your surname, you know he’s not joking anymore. “Yes?”

“Do you, perhaps, know where the fuck my notes are?”

You look around, shrugging. “Where are your notes, Donghyuck?”

“I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason,” he retorts, plastering a fake smile that doesn’t reflect in the darkness of his pupils.

“They might’ve mixed up with my stuff when you invited me over Saturday?” You sing-song, tilting your head to the side and shrugging.

“Might’ve,” he repeats, a hint of bitterness in his tone. “It was just a coincidence.”

You shrug again, pushing your lower lip in a pout. “Sometimes… things happen.”

“And if it wasn’t on purpose, why couldn’t you just text me?”

“Because I didn’t notice,” you reply innocently, batting your lashes, knowing it will get on his nerves even more.

He groans, closing his eyes to calm himself down before he speaks again, “then how do you know?”

“Don’t know, just making assumptions,” you say. “It turns out I’m really good at it.”

“I swear, I — I want to… I want to —”

“To what? Choke me because I got my revenge? Oh, it turns out it’s really not that funny when someone plays with you?” You mock, and in doing so you get closer to him.

“Goddamn,” he groans before your back meets the hard wall of the room and his lips meet yours in a heated kiss, his hands on your body and yours limp at your side as you’re too shocked to react. “I want to — I want to kill you, actually.”

You smirk, chuckling straight at his face. “Filled the space with the wrong letter, ‘cause you’re kissing me.”

“Maybe my kiss is lethal, maybe there’s poison on my lips.”

“Oh, you’re so romantic you’d die for me?” You coo, placing a hand on your heart.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back. “Why are you always so, so, so, God,” he curses, running his fingers in his hair. “I want my notes back, now.”

“I don’t have them,” you say, grinning because he looks wrecked. You know it wasn’t very morally mature for you, but it was only fair. Also, you know he doesn’t arrive last minute with anything, he had already studied everything and you’re sure he had answered everything on that paper, he just couldn’t revisit.

“My notes back when you pass by for the project or it’s war.”

“It’s already war,” you retort when he walks past you to leave.

Haechan turns around, locking his gaze with yours. “Oh, honey, it can get so much worse than this.”

You felt like testing your luck when his notes weren’t back on his desk, but you had no idea it could get worse than that, until it got.

When he deleted an essay from your computer and you had to remake and finish the work of five days in five hours, so you cancelled a project he was working on for another assignment you had. And then he erased the recording of a course from your phone, so you ripped his notebook in front of his eyes (and his roommates too). The list of petty things is long, and you’re not really proud (you’re sure not even Haechan is) of what you did, especially when things started becoming personal. You two want to destroy each other, but you are honestly just killing yourselves in the meantime.

Your book slams closed so hard that you almost zip your hands in it, and by protecting your fingers you lose track of where you’ve been. “Get lost,” you whisper bitterly as soon as you recognize the hand that did that.

“No thanks,” he replies, sitting next to you.

“I’m trying to read a book in the quiet of the library, so can you leave me alone?”

“It’s a public space, I can sit wherever I want,” he replies, leaning back into the chair, and widening his legs under the table. You know ‘cause you feel his knee push against yours and you have to retract your leg to avoid the contact.

You glare at him, breathing deeply through your nose because you can’t make a scene here. You two almost got kicked out of a class two days ago, and that was humiliating enough. So, you think that ignoring him is the best thing you can do.

“Wow, so you have a bit of self-control and don’t talk back. Never thought I’d see that day,” he replies sarcastically to your silence with an amused grin that curls his lips.

You hold back a scream and huff loudly, “I truly need you to get fucked right now.”

“Nevermind,” he jokes, pulling a tight forced smile and you close the book again, now too annoyed to even focus on the words on the paper. “I came here in peace, by the way.”

“Yeah, your peace is war in my country,” you reply bitterly, trying to shift away but those damn chairs make the loudest sounds at the smallest movements.

“That’s because you’re full of prejudices.”

You inhale deeply, rubbing your temple to soothe the headache you know is about to arrive. “Haechan, tell me what you want and then leave me alone.”

He smiles, happy you are finally willing to listen, before he clears his throat. “Okay so, I have to say that some of this is funny. I mean, only the debates and these random talks, but I’m not the biggest fan of all the other stuff we’re doing, so why don’t we bring it back?”

“Bring it back? As in?” You question, raising a brow in confusion.

“I liked it better when we would just compete without tearing ourselves down. If you cancel, ruin, or save one of my projects with the word boobs in it before sending it to the professor another time, I will go insane.”

You hold back a chuckle. You have to admit it was your lowest move, but it was quite funny when Professor Choi had a whole talk in class about being careful before sending out finished projects and exposed him in front of the class.

“No, it wasn’t funny,” he mutters sternly, watching you fight with all the muscles of your face to don’t break into a laugh.

“No, sorry, it was,” you defend, voice trembling, threatening a chuckle to come out. “Like Iloveboobsdemo1 is the best thing I’ve ever come up with. That could be the title of our song.”

“If you want to get expelled from all the academies in the world that would be a perfect idea,” he says, trying to be serious because seriously it wasn’t funny, but when you stare into each other’s eyes for too long none of you two can hold back the laughter anymore. “Okay, fine. It was funny, but I don’t want that to happen again.”

“So? Do you give up?” You taunt, tilting your head after placing it on your palms.

“I’m not giving up, we are changing strategies of our combat.”

“Oh, okay. You will lose anyway in the end, so if this can be more beneficial for me in the meantime, it’s fine.”

He sighs, rubbing his temples, and you chuckle. “Don’t laugh,” he whispers distraught. “I… could you sometimes at least pretend to give me some kind of chance of winning with you and not feeling like you’ll always have the last laugh?”

“I just replied.”

“No, a reply would’ve been ‘Yes, Haechan, don’t worry, we can change it.”

“Too wordy,” you comment, waving him off with a movement of hand.

“You said like ten words more,” he replies, voice breaking in his throat in a whine, but you decide to act as if you don’t notice.

“It still flowed better. See, that’s why the lyrics are in my hands. You’re really not good with words.”

“You keep doing that,” he groans, slamming a hand on the table, attracting some curious eyes on you before you glare them away. “But it’s fine, okay, so… no more dirty games? No more sabotaging?”

“Yes, no more. Well, not like this, but we can still play a bit, right?” You ask, retracting your hand right when you’re about to hold his to seal the deal.

“Yes, but nothing weird, or you know what I mean.”

You hum, reaching out again and shaking his hand. “It’s a deal, then?”

“It’s a deal.”

The deal somehow turns into Haechan always being next to you. He’s like a shadow, sitting next to you in class, studying with you in the library, and so on. You don’t mind him when he minds his business, but he rarely does. Especially during lessons when you need to focus on what the professors are saying.

You roll your eyes when Haechan sneaks a paper next to your notebook and you read ‘how would a dog wear pants’ with two badly drawn different options on it.

“Does it look like the right moment?” You whisper under your breath, side-eyeing him, and trying to keep your focus on the lesson. You see him nod and decide to mark the second option, thinking that he’d be happy with it, but he has the urge to hear a whole dissertation on something that will never happen, right now.

“Why?” He asks as if you’re not in the middle of a lecture.

“Not now.”

“But this lesson is boring,” he whines, poking your side with his elbow.

You huff, covering it with a cough when you realize it is too loud, and then take a sip from your bottle of water.

“You didn’t answer,” Haechan insists, this time poking your arm with the cap of the pencil.

“I picked one,” you mutter, pointing at the paper with your head.

“Elaborate and change my mind.”

“You think it’s the first one?” You say in disbelief, the utter shock causing the tone of your voice to be louder than you expected.

“Any problems there?” The Professor asks, and you feel your blood freeze.

“Mh, no, nothing, my pen has no more ink, I was asking for another one,” you lie, thanking God you two are sitting far in the back of the class and the Professor can’t hear and can’t see that your pen isn’t dead at all. So, with a suspicious nod, the middle-aged man goes on with the lecture while Haechan giggles beside you.

You glare at him, and he shrugs raising his hands. “If you kept quiet, it wouldn’t have happened.”

“If you let me concentrate on the lesson instead of asking dumb questions, it wouldn’t have happened,” you retort, and he laughs under his breath again, but doesn’t ask more questions. He still ruins your notes with ugly flowers and other drabbles and you let him be because at least he’s being silent and paying attention.

“So, you really are giving up,” you say when the bell rings and the class starts emptying.

“What makes you think that?” He asks, putting his things in his bag, just like you.

“You didn’t write anything down.”

Haechan shrugs. “Why would I? I have your notes.”

“No, you don’t,” you say but before you can realize he rips the notebook from your hands and snaps a picture of the two pages you wrote. “Hey! That’s not fair. That’s my work.”

“Your amazing summarizing skills and my artistic skills. I don’t gift beautiful sunflowers to just anybody.”

“Beautiful sunflowers?” You snicker, starting to walk down the stairs, pushing the notebook into your bag as Haechan follows at your side. “If Renjun saw them he would have a heart attack.”

“Can’t compare Vang Gogh to Picasso.”

“Keep Picasso out of your mouth,” you say threateningly.

“Still, aren’t you happy you will think of me while studying?” He bats his lashes, and you hold back an entertained grin.

“Can’t wait to go through the absolute most painful ulcers every time I glance down on those things.”

He gasps offended, bringing a hand on his chest. “See, this is what happens when you spend all your days on socials and your brain doesn’t know how to appreciate real art anymore.”

“You are so annoying, and distracting. Next time if you sit next to me, I’ll push you off the chair,” you warn, and only when a colder blow of wind hits you, you realize you’re walking back to your places together.

“Right!” He says and you think it’s the good time he leaves you alone, but no, he’s not done. “You didn’t explain why the dog would wear it only on its hind legs.”

“Is it really that serious? Why do you want to know so badly?”

“It’s funny. I’m sick and tired of hearing you only discuss music, sociology, and the media and other stuff.”

You sigh. But you still have a bit to walk, so you might as well have to deal with him and his hypothesis about dogs. “Because pants have to cover your lower body, so legs, and ass and everything else. If you wear them like the first option, half of the ass is out. And also, the back limbs correspond to our legs, we’re divided in half horizontally, not vertically.”

He doesn’t reply right away, processing your answer. And you think you broke him.

“Oh!” You exclaim. “Zootopia, animals wear clothes like the second picture.”

“Really? You had a whole statement that made perfect sense and then you added a cartoon to your thesis?”

“But it still makes sense,” you argue back. “And, most importantly, I made you agree with me,” you wink before stopping when you reach your complex.

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” he gives up before looking behind you. “You live here?”

You nod, searching for the keys in the tote bag, and you think it’s time to stop pretending that’s Mary Poppins’ bag and throw away some useless stuff.

“I thought there were only rooms here,” he states, looking at the big complex a few meters away from the university.

“There are common dormitories, and then there are some one-room flats. I got one with a scholarship when I graduated. It’s less expensive than an apartment and I get a small place all to myself.”

“Oh,” he whispers. He doesn’t know why he thought you had roommates. “So, you’re alone, alone?”

“No, you can’t come in,” you say.

“I didn’t ask that,” he frowns, offended you would even imply that. “I thought you… well, oh, never mind.”

“Yes, I’m alone, so I can do whatever the hell I want. If I want to cook, I cook. If I want to stay up all night to study, I do that. If I want to dry the clothes in the middle of the living room, that is also the bedroom and the kitchen, I do that.”

“Is it really that small?”

“It’s decent, I guess. It’s spacious enough to live in it comfortably but not big to the point I have to waste days cleaning it.”

“Maybe we could study there, no loud roommates screaming in the living room.”

“I like the mess of your place, and I’ll be there Friday.”

Haechan rolls his eyes. “Come on, I hate the library. Can’t we for once study at your place?”

“I never invited you to my studying sessions,” you groan.

“But you love it.”

“No.”

“Yes, you have an orgasm every time you know something better than me.”

“Please, shut up,” you wave him off, starting to walk away.

“I don’t care, I’ll be here tomorrow,” he screams when you’re too far, clearly running away from him.

“And I’ll be at the library!”

You never go to the library, to be honest, you were just unlucky enough that the washing machine thought it was the right moment to leak all over the floor and Haechan found you at home with your coat on the couch, the tote bag next to the door and your jeans half soaked as you tried to fix the mess on the pavement.

From that moment, your meet-ups become more and more periodic, whether it’s at your place, his or at the library. You hate to admit it, but the competition drives you forward, and you love seeing his face every time you defeat him somehow.

“Are you busy this Saturday?” He asks while he strums with the guitar to come up with a chord progression for your song.

“Yeah, why?” You reply, poking the cap of the pen to your cheeks, drifting your eyes on him.

“Want to go out with me?”

“What? Saturday is my day to study and do my things like I want to,” you say. It was the only day, along with Sunday, you had to fix all your notes without being wrecked from the lessons of the day, or listen to lessons while cleaning the house, and so on. You tried to squeeze everything there so Sunday could be your free day and you could dedicate it to your hobbies and to write for the magazine you worked for, nothing too serious, just some money to add to the survival costs that your parents would send you, and the monthly entrance you had when you would get called to help a dance studio downtown.

“Great, we’re going out tomorrow.”

You huff, slumping back on the chair. “No, we’re not. I’m busy.”

“You can take one afternoon for me,” he replies, placing the instrument next to him. “Come on, it will be fun.”

“Where would you even take me?”

Haechan smirks. “It’s a surprise.”

When Saturday afternoon arrives, you don’t know how to feel. You spent the whole night trying to find a positive thing about it, and the good thing is that for once you are leaving the house to do something funny —you hoped so— not all by yourself. The bad thing is that the person you are going to do this thing with is Haechan.

You try not to worry about it too much, he’s not that bad when he wants to, and he’s funnier than you’d like to admit, so maybe taking a small break from the obsessive studying and tidying, will do you some good.

When you hear the knocks on the door, you grab your coat and your bag and head to open it.

“Hi,” he says. “Anything to fix before we leave?”

“Don’t say that, they will hear you and break all together.”

Haechan laughs, briefly looking at your body, mostly covered because it’s still cold outside and you have way too many layers on you. “Toy Story for home appliances?”

“Yeah, that would be my life,” you reply, closing the door behind you and walking outside of the complex. “So, where are you taking me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” he says. “Don’t expect anything big, I just don’t want to hear you nag about it.”

“Hey, I appreciate almost everything.”

“Yeah, it’s the almost that worries me,” he says. “Hop in the car.”

“You have a car?”

“Yeah, it’s right in front of your eyes,” he answers, gesturing to the space next to you.

You turn around, holding back a laugh when you see the old blue car, it’s surely a Hyundai, you have no idea about the model, but you know for sure it’s falling apart. “This is the car?”

“Yes, I’m sorry I’m poor.”

“It will get us killed,” you say opening the door, letting out a breath of relief when the handle doesn’t stay in your hold.

Haechan rolls his eyes and sits in. “Can you don’t be overdramatic for one second?”

“I’m stating facts. Are the airbags still working? Is the oil level high enough? The battery? And the water for —” Your eyes widen when his lips crash on yours. At first, it’s a harsh attempt to shut you up, but then his lips shily go for more, moving along yours with a small flame of need.

“I won’t kill you, but please shut up,” he begs when he pulls away, sooner than you want to, later than he should’ve.

You gulp, trying to shake the dizziness and the way his kiss made you feel lightweight. You might occasionally still want to wrap your hand around his neck but he’s quite good at being a charmer.

“I’m giving you the privilege to pick the music,” he says once you’re on the open road, the lights of the city shine against the windows and the other cars pass beside you.

“Yeah, can I connect my Spotify to the car? Oh, wait, this model from the future directly brings the singers into your backseats so you can have a live concert,” you joke after seeing the car radio.

“Wanted to take the metro?”

You laugh. “No, I’m just… why did you say that as if I could connect the aux or the Bluetooth? It was funny.”

“Fine, you’re forgiven,” he says. “Just play it through your phone.”

You hum, already deep into the scrolling of your music catalogue. “Can I put my driving playlist?”

“You have a car?”

“No, I have a driving playlist.”

“Why would you have a driving playlist if you don’t have a car?”

“Because right now it comes useful,” you wink, pressing play without waiting for his answer.

Haechan smiles, quickly glancing at you before his attention is fully on the road. “Baekhyun?” He asks with surprise when the second song starts. “You listen to Baekhyun?”

“Everybody should listen to him,” you reply, already getting defensive because his next words could be the last straw of your ‘relationship.’

“Oh God,” he whispers.

“If you tell me you’re a hater I’m jumping out of the running car and changing the trajectory of your life forever,” you warn, turning to the side to have a better view of him.

“Me? A Baekhyun hater? He’s my father! I just can’t believe you have some sort of sense and taste.”

You slap his shoulder, making the both of you break into a light-hearted laugh.

“You scared me for a second,” you say, placing your hand on your beating heart.

“Sorry. So, it turns out we have one thing in common,” he jokes, creases creating at the corner of his eyes as his features soften and a genuine smile blooms on his face.

You shrug. “I mean, we have many things in common, actually. That’s why we get along so badly. Maybe it’s true, opposite attracts and that’s why we don’t attract.”

“I think we do attract… proved it a few times.”

“Once,” you reply immediately.

“Twice, with the kiss…”

“You did that to shut me up.”

“I don’t shut up just…” anybody… “I felt like kissing you.”

You smirk, loving watching him struggle. “Nothing wrong to admit you find me attractive,” you tease.

“Unfortunately, your mouth ruins everything.”

“My mouth is the thing that attracts you the most about me, or else you wouldn’t keep lingering around me like bees on honey.”

“Bees make honey, they’re not attracted to it. Bears are.”

“Yeah, you look like a bear, you know?”

He glares at you, and you laugh. “Bears are cute.”

“And attracted to honey.”

“And do I look like honey?” You ask teasingly. “Wait! You always call me honey!”

“It’s a mockery honey, not a sweet honey. You’re not my honey.”

You think about it. “You’re not my honey… could be a line of our song.”

“No academy talking today. It’s forbidden. You have to forget about uni.”

“Fine, I’ll forget about it just for today.”

The dates with Haechan, you can call them dates, right? Well, anyway, whatever they are, they become more common. At first, you tried to reject his weird, most of the time, last minute, proposal, because they would throw in the air all of your plans, but after a while, you somehow still found a way to go back on track without screwing up your academic goals.

“Why don’t you stay?” Haechan asks. It’s another Friday afternoon, and you two met up to go on with the song’s project. Much to your dismay, you have to admit you are the one who’s holding you two back. It’s like words can’t come out of you, not like you want to, at least. But Haechan’s not mad at you. Actually, you like the atmosphere around you when you lock in his room for those sessions. One time, he even made you try edibles to see if you could come up with something, but you ended up making out on the floor instead, so you stopped going for that path.

“I don’t know,” you say, huffing when you glance at the words in front of you and remind yourself that they don’t make sense. “I was thinking of going home and maybe listening to your tracks and…”

“Come up with something?” He drags the chair closer to you and steals your papers to read them. “It’s not as bad as you made it to be.”

“Yeah, it’s a good song, but it’s basic. And I feel like it’s a bit… cliché.”

“You do know that everything has already been written?” He jokes, but it’s not a teasing remark, it’s the truth, and he’s genuinely trying to lift your spirit.

“I know, but it’s not my style, this is not how I usually write, I —”

“You write?” He stops you and only then you realize what you said. “Like, you have written songs before?”

You nod, shame pervading you when he stares at you with an expression you can’t comprehend. “Are you going to make fun of me?”

“No, I just thought you preferred lyrics over production, but I had no idea you were a lyricist.”

“Now, lyricist… I try, sometimes…”

Haechan smirks, poking your tummy making you cover it with your arms. “So there is something you’re insecure about.”

“Oh, I knew you were going to have a ball about this,” you groan, rolling your head back.

“No, hey, it’s just… I’ve never seen you like this about something you do. You are confident, usually,” he explains with no hint of mockery in his voice.

You sigh, looking at your feet tapping the ground and then look back at him. “It’s just… very personal,” you confess. “I think it’s clear I don’t have lots of friends. I used to, back at home, but here I’m alone. But even back then I’ve always felt like there was something I couldn’t completely let out. That’s why I love dancing, I can express myself in a different way, but I found out it still wasn’t enough and when I started playing the piano again I… started writing. It started almost as a joke, and it was a cheesy break-up song when my ex cheated on me, like the cheap version of drivers license,” you joke and he laughs with you.

“But it was still better than this, I guess?”

You hum, shaking your head. “Nah, my first song was a mess, but then it was like I just couldn’t stop writing, so my songs became my diary. Every time something happens, I write about it.”

He hums, moving the chair closer until your legs intertwine. “So, to write a love song you would need to fall in love?”

You’re taken aback by his question, and don’t reply right away. “No, I just need to be inspired. I’ll watch some movies, and it will come to me.”

His face twists in mild disgust as he shakes his head. “Movies are fake, it’s better to live things on your skin.”

“I don’t have time to date, and I can’t just find someone that easily,” you say laughing. “But don’t worry, I won’t make us fail. I’ll try to edit this and make it work if I really can’t come up with anything else.”

Haechan is not convinced, it’s clear in his face and the way his leg is bouncing nervously, but he doesn’t get back on the conversation. “Are you staying?”

“I have some notes to edit and —”

“You have tomorrow,” he cuts you off. “Come on, I have to do it too.”

You groan, hating the way you can’t say no to his big eyes staring at you. “Fine, but not too much.”

It’s useless to say that none of you get those notes written better.

“God, are you fucking Professor Kim?” Haechan growls, grabbing your wrist and stopping you in the college corridors right out of Music History class, the last lesson of Tuesday.

“What?” You babble out, surprised by his angry tone and his speculation.

“No cause you’re his favourite and it’s driving me insane,” he utters under his breath, glaring at you.

“I’m his favourite?” You tease, tilting your head to the side, loving the fire that turned on between you two. It had been three calm months, the bickerings were too intellectual and you missed this.

“Yeah, I gave him the exact same answer and he found the tiniest thing to say I wasn’t right, just so he could hear yours instead and praise you.”

“Oh, poor baby boy, Professor Kim didn’t give you head pats and now you’re mad?” You pout, patting his head in a mockery gesture.

Haechan groans, throwing his head back, and pushing you into the nearest empty class, closing the door behind.

“Haechan, what are y—”

“Shh,” he says, shushing you with a stern gaze and a squeeze of your wrist. “You passed by his office the other day, didn’t you? Needed extracurricular help ‘cause you didn’t understand something,” he mocks with a high-pitched voice. “Taught you how to play his flute in a historically accurate way?”

You’d love to laugh at his terrible blowjob-music reference but when his gaze darkens, you only chuckle, and that’s enough to drive him mad.

“God, for you is just a game, isn’t it?”

“You really think I fucked Professor Kim?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he fantasizes about having you bent over his desk and, fuck, it drives me mad.”

“You wish he fantasized about having you bent on his desk?” You joke, smirking.

He groans. “No, I hate the way he looks at you, and talks to you, the last thing he had to do today was to call you a good girl in front of the whole class.”

Your lips curl in an amused grin, but your heart —and something else— flutter at the way he says ‘good girl,’ you try not to show it and go on with your teasing. “Not my fault I’m good, and I’m interested in his subject.”

“Your fault you lick his boots,” he groans, pushing you flat against the door, standing so close to your nose. “I know you’re smart and you don’t need to ride a dick to be first in class but…” he stops, inhaling your scent, and leaning against your forehead.

You lift his head with two fingers under his chin, and lean in, whispering, “you still want to see me bent over a desk, and you want to be the one railing me, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t reply, not verbally at least. The only answer is a guttural moan and two arms lifting you, making your legs wrap around his waist as he kisses you roughly.

“Hyuck,” you moan into the kiss when he starts walking toward the desk, sitting you on the edge.

“Yeah?”

“We can’t — we — this is, we can get expelled…”

He snickers. “Be quiet and nobody will even hear us.”

“What if they lock us inside?”

“Shut up,” he groans again, kissing you another time as his bag drops on the floor. “You drive me so fucking mad, you have no idea.”

You snicker under your breath, but your heart loses a beat when his hands roam on your thighs, moving closer and closer to your heat. “Wait,” you whisper.

“Wait, what?” He hums, cupping your chin and lowering your head, staring straight into your eyes. Haechan scoffs when your thighs squeeze against each other and he can see you gulping. “Don’t act like you don’t want this,” he whispers, leaning closer to your lips, making you believe he’ll kiss you, but you only get a taste of his thumb rubbing over your full lips, “don’t act like you don’t want me.”

“Haechan!” You scream when he rips off your tights, the tear of the fabric resonating in the room as you look down in shock. “I’m gonna kill you,” you groan but he’s not bothered in the slightest.

“They were getting in the way, and I get rid of everything that gets in my way,” he says with a smirk.

You laugh mockingly. “Then why am I still here?”

His brows furrow and a small pout forms on his face but he shrugs it off. “I’m taking care of you, I told you,” he groans, kissing you harshly. “You’re not winning the war.”

“Oh, and your military strategy is to fuck me?”

“Yeah, until you forget everything.”

You huff loudly when he finishes ripping the tights from your legs, the only pieces left the ones trapped in your shoes, and you’re glad the skirt is long enough to don’t make you freeze on the way back home.

“So much better,” he says proudly, staring at his work of art, letting his hands wander on your now bare skin. “And, now, let’s find out if there’s a way to shut you up.”

You look at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move as if your life depends on it. And you hate to be so eager, you hate you fantasized on it more than you should’ve, but you want to know what his lips feel like. And it’s almost as if Haechan hears your secret thoughts.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He taunts, kneading his fingers on your flesh.

“Nothing,” you mutter, trying to sound more confident than what you are.

Haechan laughs at you, shaking his head as he slowly gets on his knees, looking up at you. “You are always so fucking proud and annoying.” His hands rest on your knees before he pushes them far apart, forcing you in place as you uselessly try to close your legs. He tsk, shaking his head. “Don’t act ashamed, I’ve already felt you, and tasted you.”

You don’t reply. It’s hard to keep eye contact but this is bigger than sex, this is a game between you two and, he might not beat you in class, but he’s beating you right now.

His laugh brings you back to earth and you hate the smug smirk that’s sitting on his face. “So you do get quiet, thought I needed to give you a taste of my mouth to shut you up.”

You open your mouth to retort but the stern glare that flashes on his face is enough to put you back in your place.

“Good girl,” he says and your body trembles before you can even try to hide it. “Should I get a better taste of you?” He stares at you, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, not like he wants to at least. “Use your words, babe. You know how to run that mouth when you want to, so, beg for it.”

“Fuck, no,” you retort, trying to move away but his hold on you doesn’t give any signs of loosening up.

“Okay, then,” he says, slowly standing up, and grabbing his bag. “See you around.”

“What?” You squeal, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving,” he replies, shrugging.

“That’s not fair,” you reply, and he snickers.

“What? Are you wet? Do you want me?”

You don’t expect that reply and struggle to find the words, even more now that he’s standing between your open legs, keeping them apart, and his eyes are staring down at you, pinning you down in place. “I don’t want you,” you lie, swallowing the gulp in your throat when his right hand sits on your waist. “I just… I want to fuck.”

“Oh, do you? Well, there are plenty of people here, I’m sure many of them would want you. You know, even if you don’t pay attention to anybody, people look at you,” he whispers, caressing your jaw with his other hand. “First on the list is Professor Kim. Don’t you want to feel the thrill? Come on, go to his office now, so I can have something to hold against you forever.”

You chuckle. “Yeah? Want to blackmail me so I can do all the essays for you? Maybe you’ll get the best grades like this,” you tease, pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt and making him groan.

He licks his lips, staring at yours, and you smirk. “I don’t need you to be first, and you know it.”

“Do I?” you tease. “Want to be first at something?”

“Don’t,” Haechan warns, eyes darkening even more while the tent in his tight pants becomes even more evident.

“What? You can be the first one who fucks me on a desk if you quit playing hard to get.”

“I’m not playing hard to get,” he replies, leaning even closer, your bodies are pressed together and you can feel his hard dick press against you. “I won’t be the one begging, especially to eat you out,” he groans, cupping your chin unexpectedly. “Don’t act as if you didn’t think of this before. I’ve seen the way you get lost in my fingers when we study together. You see me twirl a pen in my hand and you wish I was inside you, don’t you? And when we argue? There’s always a small fragment where you lose focus and stare at my lips. Where do you want them, honey?”

Your brows furrow but your entire body reacts differently, a small shake, while wetness pools down your panties, soaking them even more, and your eyes close because you can’t bear his smug glare.

“I said,” he urges, giving a quick squeeze to your chin, “where do you want my lips?”

“On — on me,” you breathe out, voice muffled by the firm hold on your face.

His lips twitch as he leans closer and kisses your cheek. “Here,” he says, holding back a laugh when your eyes widen. “That was where you wanted them, right?”

“Oh, fuck off, you know what I meant,” you huff.

“No, I’m the dumb one, remember? You are smarter than me, you know everything. I’m always a step behind, I need you to guide me step by step,” he mocks in a condescending tone, pouting.

You take a deep breath. “I hate you.”

“Oh, I know,” he laughs. “But if you use just three magic words I’m sure you’re going to love me for a while.”

You don’t want to give up but you’re on fire, and you fear that the more time passes by the more someone could find you out.

“I’ll ask nicely one last time,” he whispers against your lips. “Then I’ll ask you to do something for me and you’ll lose my lips for the second time. Where do you want them?”

“On my pussy,” you whisper, not meeting his eyes.

“Fucking finally,” he laughs. “Was it so hard Miss big brain?”

“Stop mocking me!”

“Mocking you?” He asks, getting on his knees again before grabbing your panties to pull them down. “I might hate you but it would be dumb to not recognize your qualities, right?”

You don’t reply, you have other things to worry about. For example, your mortal enemies kneeled between your legs in an empty class of your Academy, staring into your soul, ready to eat you out.

“So, since you’re so good with words, here we go again. Beg.” Haechan craves putting his lips on you just as you do, but this is the only moment he can have some power over you. And after the humiliation of today’s class, he has to make you pay for it a bit. Or maybe he just wants to hear that even if you’d choke him and slap him, you still want him.

“Please, Donghyuck, please,” you plead, looking into his eyes.

He’d love to hear you beg for him more, but the way your cunt is dripping on the desk is already enough to tell him how much you want him, and for now, it’s enough.

When his lips come in contact with your skin your legs immediately hook around his shoulders and you can feel the chuckle on your wet folds.

“Eager, honey?”

“Just, please, eat me out already,” you barely have time to finish that he stops playing around and starts moving his mouth on you. Your head falls behind while your thighs squeeze tighter around his face. Your hands clench on the edge of the desk as you try to keep your balance, but it gets harder with every lick of his tongue.

“Keep quiet, the door is closed not locked,” he reminds you, pulling away from you just to pick up again.

You try to don’t be too loud, but he’s better than you expected and maybe this was the wrong time to try this out. You should’ve simply begged him to fuck you, but now that you’re in the middle of this, the last thing you want is to stop him.

One of your hands is brave enough to let go of the hold on the desk and reach his hair to push him closer to your body, surprising him.

Haechan always thought you were much more shy than this, honestly, he didn’t even hope much for this to happen. But you surprise him, not only you let him have you in a random class at your university but you are also pushing him closer.

“You are eager,” he muffles against you, he can’t pull away when you’re pressing him down with so much force, but the way you’re acting is setting him on fire. He loves hearing you moan and whimper, not a word coming out of your pretty lips to confront him, just bliss on your face and voice. And that pushes him to give you even more, putting his entire self into eating you out until he almost drags screams out of you, making both of you forget where you are.

You’re not sure how many minutes pass by but when the orgasm rushes in your body you feel it’s too close. You’d probably force him down for another round if you were in any other place but you don’t feel brave enough.

“So? Disappointed?” He asks, cleaning his chin as he stands up, reaching you again. “Don’t lie, you’re still dripping down the desk, you’re even more turned on than last time.”

“I’m not,” you lie. You know you are, and Haechan knows it too.

“What is it? The thrill of being caught? My skills? Just me, or something else?”

You don’t know why you reply with what you reply, but you do. “Maybe someone else,” you tease, not even sure he’ll take the bait, but he’s too caught up in you to see the games you’re playing.

“Yeah? And who’s that?”

“See, I always believed you were perspicacious and could catch details, I can’t believe you didn’t get it. You’re so sure Professor Kim wants to fuck me, ever thought I want him too?” You bat your lashes and Haechan tries to silence a groan, but you feel his fists clench at your sides.

“Don’t play with me, I’m not falling for this.”

You shrug. “Fine, I’ll still think about him while you fuck m—” he shuts you up with a rough kiss, pushing you down the desk with a quick movement that makes your heart jump to your throat.

“He’s not even that hot,” he groans, turning you around before bending you on the desk, and pulling your skirt up around your waist. “And he’s not even that old, there’s not even the charm of the dilf.”

“He’s smart,” you talk back, not sure how much you can pull your luck.

Haechan scoffs, slapping your ass. “Not smarter than me.”

“You’re not the professor so…”

“A degree means nothing,” he says, his chest pressing against your back. “What’s that you like so much about him?”

You chuckle. You’re not sure if he’s playing into your game or is just so easy to fool, but either way, you decide to keep going. “Everything. Don’t you see him?”

Haechan groans. Out of all the people, out of all the professors, he has a very personal beef with him that started at the start of the year and the way you just praise him so much —even outside of this specific situation where he got you’re messing up with him— drives him insane.

“Because he’s the best at everything? Isn’t he?”

You nod, expecting him to talk back but the only answer you get is the sharp sound of his belt being pulled away from his pants and smacked against your ass. “Fuck,” you curse, hating the way your body buzzes with pleasure at the impact.

Haechan chuckles. “I wonder what he would think of you if he saw you like this.”

“He wouldn’t think,” you say. “He’d act, fucking me like I deserve instead of wasting time like you.”

When his cock fills you up with no warning you almost scream but his hand is quicker at reaching your mouth.

“Yeah, would he fuck you better?”

You groan in his hand, but your brain goes blank with each thrust into you, pulling his hips back before he snaps them forward, so forcefully that you slide upward on the desk and he has to pull you down so that your hips don’t hit the wood.

“Answer me,” he urges, making a makeshift ponytail with your hair to force you up. “Would he?”

“I… I don’t know,” you cry out, feeling him deep inside of you, filling you perfectly.

“You just have to test me until I snap, don’t you?”

“He seems —fuck— fitter than you.”

Haechan snickers mockingly. “Yes? You want to be thrown around? Like you’re worth nothing? Do I have to do that to make you feel good?”

You shake your head, ass perking up, your feet on their tips as you try to keep balance.

“No? Is being fucked in a class enough for you? Does it satisfy your needs?” He hisses, eyes rolling back when he focuses them where your bodies meet, your cum dripping down his length and balls. He can’t believe how turned on you are. “Thought you were innocent but look at you.”

“Not my fault you don’t catch details,” you retort with a small bit of sanity —not really— you have in you.

“Details? Or maybe you’re just an actress. Making everyone believe you only think about grades and studies and here you are, drooling while I fuck you over a desk. Begging for my dick.”

You don’t even realize you are drooling down the desk and when you’re about to clean your chin, Haechan grabs your hands and pins them in place behind your back.

“No,” you whimper, falling flat with your chest pressing down the wooden table.

“Yes, honey,” he mocks. “I want to see you become a mess for me. Should I take a snap of you like this? Send it to Professor Kim so he can see he will never have you like this?” He whispers against your ear. “Think I don’t know it was all a play? Not only you don’t like him, but you wouldn’t risk your reputation for a terrible fuck when you have a brain like yours.”

Your pussy clenches. It’s the way his voice sounds like velvet, it’s how deep it’s hitting you, it’s in his words, and the way it turns you on that your number one rival, the one that despises you, still knows your value.

“Still, I’m pretty sure he wishes he could see you like this,” he adds, biting your earlobe. “A shame he can’t, right?”

“Y-yes,” you mumble in a pathetic wail.

“But maybe I could still keep it to myself,” his hips start moving with more force and you can’t hold back your moans as you clench around him. “Yeah? Want me to take a photo of you like this?”

You wish you could reply but words just don’t come out of your lips, brain emptying and eyes rolled back in your skull.

“Maybe another time,” he says, breath getting ragged as he keeps fucking into you with determination. “Don’t really want to pull away to take a pic of us.”

“There — there won’t be —fuck— another time,” you reply, forcing yourself to speak.

Haechan snickers. “The mess between your legs tells me otherwise,” he mocks, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, making you shake. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, you deserve good things, even a good fuck from me.”

“Too much,” you cry out, feeling your eyes getting wetter as the orgasm starts choking you.

“No, you just haven’t had a decent orgasm in ages,” he retorts.

“Shut up! You know —shit— you know nothing.”

“Honey, I can only imagine you playing with yourself, but your hands or toys don’t come close to me,” he says, so smugly you can feel the smirk on his face. And you can’t even retort because —as much as you hate it— he’s right.

“Come here,” he says, putting a hand over your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “Are you close?”

You nod, biting your lower lip until it bleeds because you’re sure the sound of your ass slamming against his hips is already a giveaway of what’s going on inside this room. You clench around him when he bites down your shoulder to muffle a louder groan as his hips start moving faster as he chases his climax.

You feel your legs give up as the second orgasm hits you and you hold against the desk again because you don’t know where else to hold on to. Haechan tries to keep his curses low, sticking his face in the crook of your neck and you feel you could come again just by his voice alone; his moans the pretties sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Oh god,” you breathe out when he gently lets go of your body and you can relax on the hard surface again, squirming in discomfort when he pulls out of you.

“I hope you didn’t tear my panties apart, too,” you say, rolling on your back, making him laugh.

“Don’t move, you’ll stain the skirt, it’s the only clean thing on the table,” he says, grabbing a napkin to prevent you from making even more of a mess.

“And who’s fault is that?” You ask, glaring at him.

“You should just thank me for the orgasm, better, two orgasms, I gave you.”

You huff, rolling your eyes, but still letting him clean you up, after all, the cum was his, so it’s his place to clean it. After you’re sure you won’t ruin the last untouched piece of clothes you have, you sit up, taking your —uncomfortably— wet panties to put them on.

“So…” he whispers as he cleans up the rest of the mess on the table and shoves your broken tights in his bag, “it was just for fun, right? You have no intentions with Mr…”

You break down laughing. “You’re so easy to fool. You seriously think I’ll ever let him see me like this?”

Haechan scoffs, finishing fixing his clothes before walking to the door. “It’s not about what you would do, is if you think of him.”

“I don’t,” you reply, following him even if you feel like your legs could give up any second. “I wonder if your jealousy was also a play,” you tease, nudging him as you two walk down the corridor to leave.

“It wasn’t jealousy, you would just have terrible taste if you truly liked him, and I have beef with him.”

You chuckle, deciding to believe him.

“Wait,” he says, stopping to search for something in his bag.

“I’ll go for the door, reach me,” you say, starting to head on, you’re not even sure you two could be there at that time. “Lee Donghyuck,” you curse when you try to push open the front door. “What did I say?”

He walks toward you nonchalantly and shrugs. “Yeah?”

“They locked us in!”

He smiles, shaking his head, and grabbing your hand. “Can you run?”

“What?” You blink a few times, trying to understand how his question fits the situation.

“After I fucked you like that, can you run?”

“Shush,” you scold, fearful someone might hear, you’re not sure who since you seem to be completely alone, but better safe than sorry. “And no, I don’t know, I… why would we run?”

“Do you trust me?” He asks, reaching out his hand for you to take.

“No,” you say resolutely.

“Good,” he smirks before he starts running into the corridors, giving you no chance but to follow him, cursing and damming every life decision that led you here, with cum threatening to leak out of you after you finished having sex in the class of your Academy and are now running to go God knows where, locked inside the institute.

“Hyuck!” You scream when he runs up the stairs and you swear you never felt so much adrenaline rush in your blood but when he looks back for a second and shows you his big bright smile with his hair falling in his face perfectly, you swear the world stops and all your worries are lifted from your shoulders. Maybe you trust him. Maybe you need to be this carefree sometimes.

Your heart jumps in your throat when he pushes open an emergency door and the mild breeze of March runs over you. You breathe in deeply, pushing into your lungs the air and the first early spring scent, letting the wind play with your hair and your clothes while your hand never lets go of his.

And then you both start laughing. Never looking back, and terribly looking forward, watching your steps as you run down the emergency stairs. You laugh, and you’re happy and you can’t believe your fingers are still intertwined with the ones of your mortal enemy.

When you reach the ground floor, hidden in the back of the palace where the sun doesn’t shine, there are still some tears spilling out of your eyes. You two pant, trying to catch your breath, and look at each other before you have to look away or else you will start laughing again.

You can’t believe you followed him blindly.

Your hands are still intertwined.

With each passing day, Haechan is convinced he has a perfect plan. It’s all part of the original plan, but if he gets you to try out romantic things, not only will he distract you from your perfect grades but he will also make you come up with a song that will give him a perfect score.

There are some small details that Haechan didn’t even consider. Detail number 1: where this could lead you two and your relationship. Detail number 2: that while distracting you, he will inevitably distract himself. But he doesn’t get it until it’s too late.

Haechan can’t remember when you started to dress up so much every time you hang out. You always dress well, or maybe he is biased for thinking that even the most basic white turtleneck shirt and cargo pants when you are too done with life to put up your skirts, dresses, or cutely styled other types of outfits, look amazing on you. Yet, during these last few dates, you started doing more, playing more with your hairstyles, trying different make-up, and always looking perfect in whatever clothes you put on your body.

Haechan hates you. Now more than ever because this was supposed to be your silly little race to the top of your second academic year and yet here he is, feeling his heart pound in his throat as you walk toward him. With your hair in a slicked-back ponytail, a freaking heart-shaped side part, your short red dress, while the white cardigan covers your arms and shields you from the light breeze, and your red short heels tap on the asphalt and bring his attention to the white socks that reach you right below your knees, while your hand clench around a heart-shaped bag.

He hates you because he wants you too badly and he’s terrified this is crossing the lines of bland and stupid physical attraction.

You smile, calling him Hyuck and he’d love to scream because he can’t be so smart and yet so dumb at the same time. But he tries to ignore it, and smiles back at you, addressing you with your surname so he can put some distance between you. You don’t even get mad anymore, it makes you smile tenderly as you lower your face to the ground and tangle your arm with his to walk to the car. Now he hopes that the old sardine can will make you two blow up, not to kill you, but to don’t make you accept a date from him anymore.

But that old car struggles but doesn’t crash, and drives you to the restaurant safely.

“This place is so pretty,” your voice rings in his ears, bringing him out of the thought he’s struggling with since you walked out of your apartment.

“Yeah, it’s musically themed, thought it was a good idea.”

“And the dishes also have song names? That’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” your face lightens up when you scan the menu and in reflection, he does too.

What the fuck are you doing? He curses when he catches himself lost on you, too focused giggling like a child as you catch the references between the songs and the plates. You look like a cliché embodiment of love, and he thinks you’ve done it on purpose. It’s way past Valentine’s Day, but he feels that Cupid is flying right above you, ready to play him a dirty trick.

“So? You picked?” You ask, bringing him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, coughing while glueing his eyes on the menu.

“Nope, I’m a bit uncertain,” he says, pretending he wasn’t just too busy staring at you a few moments ago.

You laugh, humming. “Oh, I know.”

“What did you get?” He asks, meeting your eyes above the paper in his hand.

“I wanted to get the Summer 69’ appetizer first,” you reply and he smirks.

“Are you hinting at something?”

“Oh, shut up, you perv! It just looks tasty, there are different appetizers from different parts of the world and it’s a cold start.”

“Then we can take the big one so we can share?”

“Sure,” you reply, smiling at him. “Oh, and then ‘I wanna dance with somebody’ as the main dish.”

“Do you?” He winks.

“I’m not sending you signals, I’m just starving,” you reply, rolling your eyes, but he hears the low giggle that you try to hold back.

“Fine,” he smiles. “I’ll take ‘Maneater’ in your honour.”

“I’m a maneater? Oh, thanks, the best compliment ever actually,” you say playfully.

He smiles, stopping for a second after he hands you his menu. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” And when your mouth parts and no sound come out of it, he thinks he screwed it up. It’s not the first time he compliments you but well, the other times didn’t sound so serious.

But then your face breaks in a smile, and your eyes light up, shily diverting the gaze as you thank him before the waitress saves you both from the embarrassment that’s tangible in the air.

“Karaoke? Are you being extremely nice, borderline perfect, tonight so you can show me the biggest twist ever?” You gasp when the karaoke downtown enters your line of view. You’ve been walking for a while now since he couldn’t find a spot nearby, but he never mentioned where your next stop would be.

“I’m always nice to you when we go out on da— like this,” Haechan replies, opening the door of the place for you to get in first. “Also, since we’ll have to record the song soon, I think it’s time to test our vocal abilities.”

You giggle, waiting for him before you start walking to the desk to book a room.

“Karaoke is for fun, never to show off you’re like Celine Dion.”

Haechan chuckles, nodding in agreement while you reach the booth that the lady at the counter assigned you.

“Right, I’m more like Ailee, actually,” he jokes, closing the door behind you.

“Prove it to me, I always hear your mouth run to talk shit but never to sing melodies, so…”

“Should we go for a duet?” He asks, starting the TV to scroll down the songs listed.

“Nope,” you say, sitting on the couch. “A solo song first.”

“Fine,” he says, humming as the titles pass in front of your vision. “Mhh, what about Dean?”

“Love him, would love him more if he came back from the death and dropped another album of the year,” you say, sitting back to fully enjoy Haechan’s performance.

He chuckles at your comment. “This one was a painful reminder,” he says before clicking on “Instagram,” making the logo of the place appear before the countdown, signalling the beat was about to start.

You never thought you would find yourself so caught up in him but when he opens his mouth, you feel like you’re being taken to another world.

His voice sounds like honey, so raw yet so lovely. And as he keeps singing, you think that he would be wasted as a producer, a voice like his deserves to be heard by everyone. But when he finishes, you don’t show any of the emotions you felt.

“Your performance was very touching,” you say while standing up to grab your mic, “but I’m a performer, so I’ll go with Queen Britney.”

“Can’t wait to see your Superbowl worth it performance,” he snickers, sitting back against the small couch in the room as he watches you getting ready.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you start, winking at him and swinging your hips to follow the rhythm of the music.

Haechan would love to find it as funny as he does at the start, but when you start singing for real, and moving around in the small boot, he gulps, feeling the air around him starting to dim. And it only gets worse when you turn around and start to perform for him. Of course, you know the song by heart, you don’t need to read the words, and you don’t need them to change colour to know when each verse, chorus and bridge starts.

“Oops, I did it again, I played with your heart,” you wink, tilting your head to the side, still moving your body to the beat. He can’t tell, not right at the moment, but he thinks you’re replicating the choreography. That’s the last worry in his mind.

I played with your heart.

And Haechan thinks you really did that. This doesn’t feel like a game anymore, and not even like sex. He looks at you, even right now, that you’re sensually singing a Britney Spears song, and he can only fucking smile like an idiot.

“Wow,” you exhale when the song ends, fanning yourself with your hand, “it’s really hot in here.”

“It definitely is,” he whispers, drifting his gaze from you.

“So? How was I?” You ask, head tilted to the side, and a big, bright smile on your face.

“Good,” Haechan mutters, catching himself staring at you for too long again, shaking his head, the red blush on his face is humiliating. “You were good.”

“Yes,” you cheer, clapping your hands. “Should we duet, now?”

He hums, grabbing the remote again and searching ‘duets’ in the search bar. “Sad, sexy or silly?”

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“What? I’m trying to understand the vibe we want to go with.”

“I’ll let you pick,” you say just to regret it when you see the song choice on the screen. “Seriously? Anything you can do?”

“What? It’s fitting for how relationship,” he says nonchalantly.

“That’s a crazy choice.”

“Worried you can’t actually do better than me?” He winks, passing you the mic as the song loads on the screen.

“You’ll see,” you challenge with a glare.

One minute into the song you regret having agreed to that, not remembering the last time you sang like this, but the look on his face when it’s time for you to hold a long note for 15 seconds is worth it. And it keeps going until the end, as you both surprise each other with all the skills that this song requires.

“Wow, you’re good,” you both say when the song ends and you break down laughing, a sound that grows bigger when the screen lights up to show a perfect score.

“Maybe we make a great couple together,” you say, laying back on the couch, tired from the singing.

Haechan turns to you, smirking and nodding. “I guess we do.”

You sit up, resting your chin on his arm. “Can you take another one?”

“Oh, don’t test me, baby.”

“So, ice cream is good for vocal cords?” You giggle as you walk to the side of the Han River with the ice cream in hand. It seemed like Haechan didn’t want to end the night anytime soon, but you don’t feel like complaining.

“Yeah,” he hums with conviction, licking another stripe of chocolate.

“On which book you’ve read this scientific fact?”

“The ice cream ghost came to me one night and whispered the secret to my ear,” he jokes, making you laugh.

“Uhm, yeah, I think that ghosts are much more reliable than old men in white coats in a lab,” you joke, but then you remember something you wanted to talk about since you’ve walked out of the karaoke. “Mhh, you know what I was thinking?”

Haechan shakes his head, waiting for you to talk.

“I think we’re going down the wrong path with our song,” you voice out. “Especially me. A warmer, darker, I dare to say more sensual vibe, fits us better.”

Haechan chuckles and you glare at him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he giggles, but he can’t lose against you so he goes on. “That’s the production, you know?”

You huff, rolling your eyes, and jumping on the handrail to sit. “I never said it wasn’t important.”

“Whatever,” he snickers. “So I have to scrap everything I’m working on?”

You shake your head, cleaning your hands after swallowing the last bite of the cone. “No, I was thinking about the second base you were working on, the one with the guitars and violins, remember?”

He hums, but he’s dangerously close to you, and you don’t understand why his hands wrap around your waist.

“I think we could use that and —” you gulp when he places his feet on the handrail under you and reaches your height, “and then I can change small things of my — my writing to fit more. What do you think?”

He smiles before it turns into his usual smirk. “I still think you’re worrying too much and you’re not letting it come to you,” he whispers, and the air of his breaths puffs on your lips before he erases the space between you and kisses you.

You feel your breath taken away as you feel like you’re falling behind in the river as the wind blows harder and your hands immediately leave the handrail to reach for him.

You’re not sure that wasn’t an attempted murder from him, but you can’t care when you feel your heart flutter and your legs give up as he deepens the kiss.

“Let it flow,” he whispers, kissing you again, whispering against your lips, “and the song will come at you.”

You know it’s not what he’s talking about, but you kiss him again, this time pushing him down so your feet are on the ground again. Your hands are holding tight on his sweatshirt as you pull him even closer and he does the same wrapping his arms around your frame tighter.

You find yourself in the same position in the living room of his apartment, struggling to make it to his bedroom without waking some of the others up. Not that you care much, it would be fair payback for all the chaos they make when you and Haechan are studying together.

The clothes fall on the floor as quickly as he’s on top of you on the bed.

“I hate that I have to ruin your pretty face,” he whispers, fingers deep inside your sopping wet cunt, pumping in and out painfully slowly as he stares at your face, a cute mix between ecstasy and annoyance because he’s giving you something but not enough. “The red eyeshadow looks really good on you, you know?”

You groan, rolling your head back. “It’s not time for compliments.”

“I’ve been complimenting you all night,” he says, teasing your clit with flicks of his thumb but without giving you much. “It is a shame you will look like a mess once I’m done with you.”

“We can’t be loud,” you say, hating that, for one reason or another, you two always have to keep quiet.

“Nah, Jeno has his headphones on playing games with Yangyang. Renjun has headphones on with music to don’t listen to Jeno. Mark’s not home and not even bombs wake Jaemin up.” The explanation is particularly non-sexy now that he has his fingers inside of you and it doesn’t make you relax much, but you hum nonetheless and beg him to keep going.

“Patience, honey. We’ve got all night,” he smirks.

“Yeah but —”

“Ah, ah,” he says, clicking his tongue and silencing you with a finger on your lips. “What did I tell you before? Let it flow.”

“It was different it was —ugh,” you mumble when he covers your mouth with his hand, eyes widening before they narrow to send him a deadly glare, but he only smirks. He has control now. He always does when he has you underneath him, he still has to fight with you a bit, but you both know this is the only time he can ever win against you. And tonight is special, he wants you to let go of the reins completely, he wants you brainless, because even if your brain is the sexiest thing of you —yeah, yeah, and the thing that is making his college years hell on earth— your brain is also the thing that makes you obsess over the smallest thing and doesn’t make you follow your heart so freely.

Yeah, tonight Donghyuck wants you free, but for the sake of the dirty talking later —and to fool himself he doesn’t care about you that much— he’s going to say he wants you dumb.

And he’s starting strong tonight, his beautiful, long fingers reaching deep inside you, hitting right against your sweet spot, causing so much cum to pool around them and drip down while your pussy clenches hard and your hips buck up to ride the pleasure with him. And you don’t have it in you to fight; it feels too good, especially when he starts rubbing your clit and whispers dirty talk about how well you’re taking him.

Your eyes flutter open, just in time to catch the proud smirk on his face as he stares at your body, you dare to say, in awe. It shouldn’t warm your heart, but it does. You don’t even care if he sees you like a prize he won, right now, because even if he does, you know he only fights hard to win the trophies he cares about. He wants you, he likes you, even. Between the hate and the tension, something about what attracts you two together makes this work. And it’s fine.

“Hyuck,” you breathe out, chest panting and toes curling as you feel the familiar knot in your stomach. But you don’t expect the next words that come out of your mouth. “Kiss me.” When you realize what you said, you anticipate him mocking you, your ears already hear the snicker you know, oh so well, but it never arrives. What arrives are his lips on yours as he leans down, pressing his chest against yours while his fingers keep working wonder inside you.

The kiss is passionate, but not rough like the ones you’re so used to sharing. There’s no anger in it, just need and greed, and chemistry. So much chemistry, your hands have to run in his hair and tug them, making him moan and his dick throb against your thigh.

“I want you so bad,” he slurs against your lips. “I will do some dumb shit one day for you.”

You don’t get what he means. You don’t even know what he could mean by that given the nature of your bond, but his words, mixed with the sultry tone of his voice, are enough to make you come. You barely register the orgasm, hitting you like a singular explosion of a firework, leaving you gasping, exploding as quickly as it came yet slowly running through your bones as the feeling tones down.

Haechan snickers softly. “You love it when I get in trouble for you, don’t you? Even when it’s just a promise.”

Your lips part to reply but he shuts you with a kiss. “No talking, not unless I tell you to. I know everything I need to know, your body tells me that,” he says, grinning like an idiot when he shows you his cum coated fingers, tapping them against your lips, silently ordering you to taste yourself. You would never do that, but tonight it’s like he’s commanding you like a puppet on a string, and you obey. Closing your lips around him and sucking hard.

He smirks, feeling his dick get even harder as he stares at your lips. “That’s what I do to you, pretty girl. And I’m not even started.”

Your pussy throbs in anticipation while he pulls his fingers out. You know he’s one to keep promise, and you can’t wait for what’s to come. But he’s taking too long, and you can feel his hard dick against your leg, so your hand creeps down to touch it.

“You’re not in command tonight, angel,” he says, grabbing your wrist to stop you from moving your hand on him.

“But I want you,” you whine, trying to win him with a pouty look on your face.

It doesn’t work as he pushes your hand over your head and leans in. “Patience, princess. Keep quiet, don’t be greedy and just trust me. Can you do that? Or is it too hard for you?” He groans against your ear, making your hips buck up.

“I — I can,” you whisper but he stops with a glare and your brain replays his words ‘quiet, no words from you tonight,’ and he means it. So you nod, breathing in deeply as you feel weak in the knees for the way he looks at you.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing up to stand between your legs, pushing them open.

When he slips inside you, you gasp, dragging your nails on his back. “Are you alright?”

You nod, forcing yourself to look into his eyes.

“Good, and now,” he whispers, kissing your lips, and dragging out of you, “I want you to give into me and completely turn your brain off. You have me, that’s all you need right now.”

When he starts moving in and out, your body succumbs to the pleasure. Your muscles relax as you let him take care of you. His lips trace over your sensitive skin, leaving kisses on your neck and chest. His hands run over your body, touching and squeezing every inch. And he reaches so deep inside of you that you feel you can barely breathe.

“Just like this,” Haechan whispers close to your ear, gently biting the skin on your jaw. “Don’t think about anything,” he groans, hitting you deep after pulling out of you completely. “Not a single worry in that pretty brain of yours.”

You rarely let him win, but you have to admit that the way he makes you feel, the way he can lift all the stress off your shoulders, is a talent. He knows what he’s doing, and the scary thing is that he knows how to get you. So easily wrapped around his fingers, crumbling into nothing at his tiniest touch.

You whimper loudly when his fingers press against your clit, seeing stars at the new stimulation.

“You can take it,” he groans. You’re about to talk but he traps your lips in a messy, wet kiss as he pulls you closer by your waist, hitting even deeper. “You’re a good girl, right? You can take it.”

You’re doubtful, but you do take it, over and over again. You lose track of time and stop counting your orgasms after the third. There’s no need for that. All you need is the pleasure Donghyuck gives you, fucking you until both of you can’t do it anymore.

There’s nothing left once it’s over, no strength to talk or clean up the mess, just the warmth of your bodies cuddled against each other.

“Good morning, I will kill Lee Je — what the hell,” Renjun exclaims, entering the kitchen, making you turn around as if you’ve been caught stealing, holding the mug full of coffee in your hands and giving him a shy smile. “What are you doing here?”

You gulp, pushing your hair out of your face before coming up with a lie. “We studied too late.”

Renjun steps further into the room, staring at you with a raised brow before he tilts his head and studies how you’re dressed. You’re wearing Donghyuck’s sweater and pants.

“Oh, now they call it studying? Last time I checked you’re not med students, didn’t know music had anatomy in the program,” he taunts, grinning at you as he comes to your side.

You choke on your saliva and don’t have time to come up with a reply because he strikes again.

“Oh, no, maybe you were exercising vocalization, it’s better when it’s done together, right?” He winks and you glare at him.

“It’s not what you think,” you lie, but honestly you feel so embarrassed about everything. You didn’t think anybody else would be up this early on a Sunday, but it’s clear you don’t know Renjun well. You could’ve left, but you didn’t want to. It was slowly starting to sink in that you didn’t like the solitude of your life anymore.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody,” he says, sitting in front of you. “Come here, don’t stay up.”

You do as told, and smile when he offers you a pack of biscuits. “I would’ve cooked something usually, but Jeno kept me up all night.”

You chuckle. “It’s fine, normally I don’t even have breakfast.”

“You don’t?” He gasps, and you nod.

“Yeah, just coffee.”

He looks down at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I know, I’ll try to eat more, okay? For you.” You reach out your hand and he takes it.

A fit of cough brings both of your gazes to the door and you see Haechan stand against the frame. “Once it’s Jeno, another time it’s Renjun. I bring you home to study and you flirt with my friends.”

“Drop the bullshit, Hyuck. He knows,” you say, rolling your eyes.

Haechan’s eyes widen, but he slowly fakes indifference. “Knows what? That you don’t have time for a relationship so you can’t date him?”

“That you two fuck,” Renjun answers instead, making him cough.

“That’s not true,” he defends. “I hate her,” he says, laughing, but when he meets your eyes and sees them sadden, he feels pain in his heart. “No, no, I don’t hate her, but we’re… you know our relationship, why would we fuck?”

“Who’s fucking?”

“Not you, Jeno. Not you for sure,” Renjun says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey! Why do you always gotta be so rude,” Jeno whines.

“I doubt he’s not getting laid,” you chuckle, and Jeno winks playfully.

“See, words of a wise woman,” he brags, walking to the fridge to grab something.

Renjun sighs loudly. “A woman that doesn’t know you.”

“Would you fuck him?” Haechan asks out of nowhere and you glare at him.

“I just said that he’s hot and smart, I don’t see how he can have a hard time finding somebody,”

“’Cause he’s annoying,” Renjun answers, but Haechan’s not listening.

“I didn’t ask that,” Donghyuck says instead, his attention is all on you as if there’s nobody else in the room.

“I don’t answer stupid questions,” you reply before sipping from your cup and drifting your gaze away.

“Wait, why are you here?” Jeno asks, only now realizing you’re not supposed to be at their place, not in the morning at least… wait… “Wait! Are you two fuck—”

“No,” Haechan answers sternly, glaring at him. “We’re studying. And it got late, so since we were closer to my place, I let her stay the night.”

“I thought you left yesterday saying you had a date, though,” Jeno says confused.

You chuckle under your breath before you feel Haechan’s hand wrap around your writs to pull you out of the room, not even giving you time to finish your coffee. “A studying date, and now drop it.”

When you reach his room, he groans loudly, walking to the closet to pick something to wear. You watch him move for a while, but then you can’t keep your thoughts inside your head anymore.

“Are you ashamed of me?” You ask and he turns around with wide eyes.

“What?”

“Am I something to be ashamed of? Do I don’t fit in the standard of the people you would usually fuck?”

He sighs, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want them to get invasive, they don’t let me live once they know something. And with you, it’s more embarrassing because of our history…”

You giggle, trying not to show the relief you’re feeling because, for a moment, you thought he was one of those types of men.

“Why can’t you ever make things easy for me?” He asks, annoyance in his voice. You have so much power over him, more than he likes to admit, and he feels like he can’t even be too mad at you about it.

“Sorry, it’s just, it’s funny having a history with you,” you explain. “My mortal enemy, always ready to steal my number ones, and my good grades.”

“You’re so annoying, you’re never sleeping over ever again.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I won’t let you fuck me ever again.”

“Liar,” he says. “And now move, I’ll drop you home.”

you can find part two on my account on the story masterlist or haechan’s masterlist (i can’t link it because if i do the post won’t appear in the tags)

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

#nct fanfiction #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #donghyuck smut #lee donghyuck smut #haechan fluff #lee haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff #nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #haechan scenarios

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ikeucity · 1 month ago

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𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨. ― (희승)

「 ᴘᴀʀᴛ (2/4) ᴏꜰ ᴋᴇᴜʀɪ'ꜱ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ! ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀᴜ 」 previously on loser! edition: 𝗝𝗘𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗜𝗘. ― (제이)

▸ pairing. loser!heeseung x tutor!reader ▸ wc. 36k

warning. this story contains themes of slow-burn romance, fluff, and mild angst, sub!hee (??), alcohol-use, cute drunk moments, emotional connection. while the story leans heavily on wholesome and lighthearted moments, there may be mild language and themes of insecurity. explicit content (18+). mdni.

after jay kicks him out for drunkenly spilling his secret, heeseung is set on drowning his sorrows. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve had your eye on him for a while. with a bit of liquid courage, you decide to make your move. your attempt to impress heeseung leads to way more than you bargained for.

credits to @slvtella, she is the one who gave me a base storyline and i just added sprinkles.

heeseung stumbled out of jay’s room, his vision swimming a little as the vodka hit him hard. he could still feel the embarrassment creeping up his neck, heat rising to his face as he replayed the disaster in his mind. why the fuck did he have to blurt out the one thing no one needed to hear tonight? jennie. jay’s fucking sex doll. heeseung groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, cringing at the memory. he had one job tonight—be the perfect wingman, help jay finally hook up with the girl he’d been crushing on for months. instead, he got piss-drunk and spilled the dumbest secret right in front of her. he could still see the look on jay’s face, the way it shifted from shock to betrayal in seconds. heeseung felt like a fucking idiot. “stupid, fucking idiot,” he muttered under his breath, avoiding eye contact with anyone as he pushed through the crowded room. it felt like every pair of eyes was on him, like they all knew what he’d done. the music was loud, bass pounding through the floor, laughter and chatter filling the air, but it didn’t matter. all he felt was out of place, a walking fuck-up. he definitely needed more alcohol. heeseung found his way to the kitchen, grabbed the first bottle he saw, and made a beeline for the couch. the couch was safe, away from the crowd, away from the judgment. he slumped down, tipping the bottle back, letting the sharp burn of alcohol flood his throat. maybe if he drank enough, he’d forget how badly he screwed up.

the party moved on without him. people laughed, danced, paired off, while heeseung just sat there, watching like a ghost. he wasn’t part of their world, not tonight. maybe not ever. he could feel the alcohol numbing him, dulling the sharp edges of his embarrassment, but not enough to forget. “what a fucking night,” he muttered, taking another drink. he wasn’t the guy who got the girl, never was. just the awkward dude who couldn’t even wingman right. maybe that’s why he got so wasted in the first place, trying to feel like he belonged here, like he could keep up with everyone else. heeseung shifted, his eyes catching the couple next to him. they were all over each other, lips locked, hands roaming. he could feel their heat, their bodies pressed so close he could practically feel them on his skin. he tensed up, looking away, pretending like he wasn’t sitting there, the third wheel on their couch. he tried to move, inch away, but his legs felt like lead, weighed down by the alcohol. their wet kisses filled his ears, the low murmur of their voices mixing with the music. it was too much. he gripped the bottle tighter, praying for an escape, but every time he looked around, the room seemed more packed, more suffocating. moving meant more awkward interactions, more people looking at him like he didn’t belong. so, he stayed put, sinking deeper into the couch, swallowing down another long gulp of vodka.

and then he saw you. you were across the room, eyes locked on him. not judging, not laughing. just… watching. there was something in the way you looked at him, something soft, curious. like you saw him, really saw him. and not in the way everyone else did, not like the awkward fuck-up stuck between a horny couple. there was no pity in your gaze, no judgment. heeseung blinked, his heart stuttering in his chest. it wasn’t the alcohol this time—it was you. you looking at him like that. he hadn’t noticed you before, too caught up in his own mess, but now? now you had his full attention. and suddenly, he didn’t feel so invisible. didn’t feel like the guy who always messed everything up. for a second, it felt like maybe, just maybe, the night wasn’t a total loss.

heeseung had no clue you’d been watching him all night.

even now, as he sat there looking like a complete wreck—his hair a tousled mess, his eyes half-shut, drunk as hell, slouched into the couch like he was hoping it’d just swallow him up—you couldn’t tear your eyes away. it was pathetic, honestly. but something about the way he always seemed so out of place, so awkward, drew you in more than it should.

he never noticed you. not like you wanted him to, anyway. you’d been crushing on him for longer than you cared to admit, but always from a distance. it wasn’t like you could just go up to him, make it clear you were into him. he’d probably freeze up, stutter through something dumb, or worse, think you were messing with him.

because that was lee heeseung—awkward as hell, too wrapped up in his own world, and so fucking oblivious it made your chest ache. he wasn’t the guy everyone noticed, wasn’t smooth or charming. he was just… there. but you didn’t care. you liked him. more than you should, probably.

you liked how real he was, how he always seemed like he didn’t know where he fit in, even when he tried so damn hard. he wasn’t perfect, far from it, but that’s what made him so fucking endearing. every time you saw him—whether it was in class, during group work, or at parties like this, blending into the background—you couldn’t help but notice. the way he’d sit off to the side, like he was hoping no one would call on him, or how he zoned out completely, probably thinking about the games he’d play when he got home. you noticed the way his eyes lit up just a little when someone talked about sports, like it was the one thing he was secretly proud of.

and now here he was, stuck on that couch next to some couple basically mauling each other. they were all over each other, hands and mouths everywhere, and heeseung looked more uncomfortable than ever. he was stiff, like he didn’t know what the hell to do with himself, his eyes darting around the room, looking for some way out.

god, it made your heart flip.

you couldn’t stop staring, watching the way he scratched the back of his neck, like he was trying to make himself smaller, invisible. no one else noticed, but you did. you always noticed. and maybe that’s why you’d never had the guts to make a move. you didn’t want to add to his discomfort, didn’t want to freak him out when he already had enough on his plate just trying to survive the night.

you liked him too much. way too much. but you were careful. you stayed in the background, letting him be, never wanting to scare him off. you were always there, always watching, wishing he’d look at you the way you looked at him. but he never did.

until now.

the alcohol in your system was doing something, messing with your head, making you feel brave—or stupid. you weren’t sure which. but for a second, you thought… was he looking at you?

heeseung’s eyes, hazy with drunkenness, seemed to meet yours. his expression was curious, like maybe—just maybe—he’d noticed you this time. your heart skipped a beat, that stupid giddy feeling hitting you hard. but then, just as quickly, the moment passed. he blinked, his gaze darting away, and that familiar awkwardness took over again. it was like he hadn’t even meant to look at you in the first place, just happened to zone out in your direction.

you liked him too much. way too fucking much.

the alcohol wasn’t helping. it was pushing you, telling you to go for it, to stop sitting in the corner like a damn creep and just talk to him. your heart was pounding, your palms fidgeting in your lap as the idea crept up on you. this wasn’t you—you didn’t make moves like this. but right now? with the buzz in your veins and the way he looked like he could use someone to save him from this disaster of a night?

fuck it.

this might be the only chance you had. and besides, you were tipsy. what did you really have to lose?

you shifted in your seat, adrenaline kicking in, your mind spinning with possibilities. it wasn’t like he’d push you away, right? not heeseung. not when he was sitting there, awkward and alone, looking like he’d appreciate anyone giving him a way out.

before you could stop yourself, you stood up, heart racing and mind spinning from the alcohol. heeseung hadn’t even noticed you as you walked toward him, the music and chatter fading into the background, each step toward him feeling heavier, more uncertain. the couple next to him had finally fucked off, leaving the seat next to him empty, and you weren’t about to waste the opportunity. who knew where they went? who cared? it was just you and him now, and that was all that mattered.

as you got closer, you watched heeseung straighten up a little, like he was finally free from the suffocating makeout session happening beside him. you saw the relief in his face, the way his shoulders relaxed, and he let out this small, tired sigh. poor guy had been through hell sitting there. you could almost feel his discomfort from across the room, and it tugged at something deep in your chest. he shifted back against the couch, clearly buzzed, his eyes slightly glazed, and though he wasn’t as tense anymore, there was still that air of frustration clinging to him. you could practically hear the self-deprecating thoughts swirling in his head.

it made your chest ache seeing him frown. you knew he wasn’t the most confident guy, but damn, you didn’t think he was this hard on himself. the more you watched him, the more you wanted to be near him, to sit next to him and maybe make him feel a little less alone in all this mess.

but god, you were just as awkward as he was. every nerve in your body felt like it was buzzing as you made your way over, trying not to trip over your own feet. heeseung, predictably, didn’t even notice you coming. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, lost in his head like always.

you stood there for a second, gathering whatever courage you had left, and then slid onto the couch beside him. you tried to do it smoothly, but your nerves made everything feel stiff, awkward. heeseung barely glanced up, still too caught up in his anxious energy, but you could tell he was struggling. the way his body slumped forward a little, the tension in his hands as they gripped the empty bottle… yeah, he was a mess.

you cleared your throat, trying to break through his haze. he glanced at you, almost like he didn’t really see you at first, and then quickly looked away. classic heeseung—too stuck in his own head to notice when someone was actually paying attention to him.

“hey,” you said, voice shaky but determined. “uh, you good?” as soon as the words left your mouth, you cringed internally. seriously? that’s what you went with? but it was too late to take it back now.

he blinked, staring at his drink for a moment before glancing at you again. “uh, yeah. fine.” his voice was quiet, almost unsure, and he took another quick sip, like he was trying to drink his nerves away. you weren’t surprised, honestly. you’d expected this.

you pushed forward, hoping to keep the conversation alive despite the awkward start. “so, uh… you come to these things often?” you winced as the words left your mouth, knowing how lame and cliché they sounded. his lips twitched, maybe the beginning of a smile, but it quickly disappeared as he turned back to his drink, downing more of it.

“not really…” he mumbled, voice already slurring a bit. yeah, he was definitely drunk, and he was definitely not handling it well. heeseung was never the guy who could drink much without turning into this red, nervous, slurry mess.

but you weren’t about to give up. leaning in slightly, you tried again. “it’s pretty loud in here, huh? kinda overwhelming.”

he nodded, muttering something under his breath as he took another long drink, clearly hoping the alcohol would somehow make him less awkward. but instead, it seemed to pull him deeper into his own head. with each sip, he retreated further, barely answering your questions.

by the third question, it was clear he wasn’t going to be much of a conversationalist tonight. he was chugging his drink like it was the only thing keeping him from falling apart, and you could tell he was barely hanging on. “so… what do you do when you’re not, uh, here?” you asked, trying to steer the conversation into something he might enjoy talking about.

heeseung blinked, his face flushed as he struggled to respond. “uh… y’know… stuff,” he muttered, sounding more and more like he wanted to disappear into the couch entirely.

you sighed softly, not even upset. still, it was a little disappointing to see him this far gone, too drunk to even attempt to keep up the conversation. heeseung had a habit of sabotaging himself like this, and tonight was no exception.

eventually, his words turned into grunts, his eyes growing heavier with each drink. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly, watching him fumble with the now-empty bottle, clearly surprised he’d finished it so fast. his hands scrambled awkwardly on the table, searching for more alcohol, and you watched him with an amused smile, feeling the warmth of your own buzz settling in.

you had no idea how many drinks you’d had at this point, but you were tipsy enough to feel bolder, less afraid of making a fool of yourself. seeing him struggle for another drink, you leaned in, holding out your cup with a small grin. “hey, you can have mine.”

he looked at you, blinking a few times like he was trying to process what you’d just said. for a moment, you thought he’d refuse, but then he let out a quiet, awkward laugh and took the cup from you. “uh, okay…” he mumbled, his fingers brushing against yours as he took it, that tiny contact sending a spark through you, making your heart skip.

you watched him take a sip, his eyes lingering on the cup like it was the holy grail, and for the first time tonight, he seemed a little more… open. maybe it was the alcohol loosening him up, or maybe it was because you’d given him something without expecting anything back. either way, he wasn’t brushing you off anymore.

he took another small sip before looking at the cup again, then back at you. he hesitated for a second, then held it out to you, his fingers brushing yours as he handed it back. “here… you probably want this back,” he slurred, his voice soft, a little unsure. you smiled, shaking your head as you gently pushed the cup back toward him.

“nah, it’s all yours. seriously,” you said, your heart skipping at the brief contact.

he blinked, glancing down at the cup before he looked back up at you, a bit surprised. “oh… uh, thanks,” he muttered, clearly still a little thrown off by your kindness, but not nearly as guarded as before.

you tried again, feeling a little braver now. “so… you having an okay time?”

this time, he didn’t hide behind the cup. he glanced at you, his expression softening just a bit. “uh, yeah… just, y’know, not really good at these party things,” he admitted, his words still slurred, but now more open, more willing to talk. “too many people… and, uh, stuff.”

you nodded, sipping the last bit of your own drink, feeling the warmth spread through your veins. “yeah, i get it. sometimes it’s a lot. but hey… at least you’ve got me to talk to now, right?”

heeseung blinked again, like he hadn’t even considered that you might actually want to talk to him. “yeah… I guess so,” he mumbled, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. it was small, barely there, but it was enough to make your heart flutter a little.

with both of you sufficiently drunk, the tension started to ease. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that he was starting to realize you weren’t here to judge him, weren’t here to make him feel awkward or like shit for being himself. either way, conversation started to flow, clumsy and random, but comfortable.

each time you asked a question, heeseung would take a sip, trying to answer without tripping over his words. you found yourself laughing softly at his attempts to sound smoother than he was, finding his drunken honesty almost endearing.

heeseung was definitely at the point where you knew he wasn’t going to remember anything tomorrow. his eyes were glazed over, movements slow and a little too loose, words slurring together more with every sip. but there was something cute about how hard he was trying to stay present, like he wanted to keep talking, even though the alcohol was winning.

you, on the other hand, were riding the same buzz, but it just made you bolder, like all your usual fears had melted away. and before you could stop yourself, the question slipped out.

“so… you like games, right?”

you already knew the answer, of course. heeseung always talked about games whenever you managed to get him to open up, but something about the alcohol made you want to hear it again. maybe it was just an excuse to keep him talking, to keep the conversation going.

heeseung blinked, slow and confused, like he was trying to process what you just asked. “games?” he repeated, voice thick and sluggish, but then he gave you a small, drunken smile. “yeah… love ‘em. they’re, uh, fun.”

you bit your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculously simple his answer was. “yeah? what’s your favorite?” you pressed, not even caring that you already knew—he was talking, and that was all you wanted.

he squinted, like he was trying to remember through the haze in his head. “uh… I dunno. depends,” he muttered, gripping the cup a little tighter as he took another shaky sip. “like… fps stuff. and sports games. y’know.”

you chuckled softly, nodding. “fps, huh? that’s cool. I bet you’re pretty good at them.”

he shrugged, but a small, shy smile crept onto his lips again. “yeah… I guess,” he slurred, his head tilting a little as he tried to focus on you. “but I dunno, ’m not good at… other stuff,” he mumbled, voice growing softer, trailing off into his drunken haze.

you leaned in, feeling a rush of warmth as you pressed a little more. “what do you mean, ‘other stuff’? come on, you’re good at games, right?”

he let out a half-hearted laugh, his eyes closing briefly like he was fighting off sleep. “maybe… but not good at, uh… everything else,” he mumbled, barely holding on to the conversation.

“we should play sometime,” you said, throwing it out there without expecting much, just feeling bold enough to suggest it.

he blinked slowly, his head bobbing a little before he mumbled, “yeah… that’d be cool.”

and with that, he slumped back into the couch, his drink slipping from his hand as he finally gave in to the drunkenness, completely checked out. you sighed softly, shaking your head with a smile as you watched him.

the brief moment of contentment you had was short-lived. reality smacked you hard—he wasn’t going to remember any of this. not you, not the awkward conversation, nothing. what the hell were you even doing? he was practically passed out, slumped against the couch like a dead weight. there was no way he was going to remember anything, let alone you trying to talk to him.

you sighed, glancing around the party, hoping someone—anyone—might notice how far gone heeseung was. but no one gave a shit. everyone was too busy dancing, making out, or lost in their own little worlds to even glance in his direction. great. of course, no one noticed. and where the hell was jay? wasn’t he supposed to be keeping an eye on things, especially since heeseung came with him?

you scanned the room again, feeling your stomach twist in frustration. still no sign of jay. perfect. heeseung’s head lolled to the side, completely oblivious to the chaos around him. someone needed to make sure he got home safe, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be him.

“heeseung?” you leaned closer, shaking his shoulder lightly, trying to wake him up. no response. you tried again, a little louder, shaking him harder this time. “hey, come on. wake up. you're wasted, we need to take you home.”

his eyes fluttered open, but he looked so out of it, like he had no idea where he was. “home…?” he mumbled, his voice a raspy whisper.

“yeah, home. do you even know where your phone is?” you asked, your concern growing as you watched him struggle to focus.

he blinked slowly, his hands fumbling through his pockets but coming up empty. “uh… no?” he muttered, his voice barely coherent.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t shake the worry settling in. “okay, hold on. we’ll figure it out.” you glanced around again, hoping jay would miraculously show up, but no such luck. just more people partying.

“heeseung, you gotta wake up a little,” you said, shaking him again, but he was barely coherent. his eyes opened for a second before closing again, his head drooping back down.

this was gonna be a long night.

he stirred slightly, blinking up at you with that same drunken daze. for a second, you thought maybe he was starting to come around, but then, in the most slurred, half-assed voice, he muttered, “y'know… if i was a controller… i’d let you push all my buttons.”

you stared at him, blinking. did he really just say that?

his eyes widened in slow motion as the realization hit him, his face turning bright red. he groaned, slapping his hands over his face like he could hide from the embarrassment. “shit… that was so dumb,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by his hands. “why’d i say that…”

you couldn’t help it—you laughed. it was absurd, so random, and so fucking corny, but in the cutest way possible. “seriously, heeseung?” you teased, biting back more laughter as he squirmed in embarrassment. “that’s your best line?”

he let out another groan, his hands still covering his face. “i’m such an idiot,” he muttered. “just… pretend i didn’t say that. please.”

shaking your head, you grinned despite how ridiculous the situation was. yeah, he was a drunken mess, but that dumb line somehow made you like him even more. “don’t worry, it wasn’t that bad,” you said, nudging his arm lightly. “just… maybe save the pick-up lines for when you’re less drunk.”

heeseung peeked out from behind his hands, his face still flushed, and let out a defeated sigh. “god, i’m really gonna forget all this tomorrow, aren’t i?” he muttered, sounding like he’d already accepted his fate.

you sighed, the reality hitting you again. “yeah, probably. but hey, at least you’ll forget that awful line too.”

he gave a weak laugh, still clearly mortified but trying to play it off. “i’m gonna need to drink even more to forget that one,” he half-joked, his hand fumbling around, searching for another drink. but before he could even find anything, his body gave out completely, and he blacked out mid-reach.

without any warning, he collapsed off the couch, hitting the floor with a loud thud. your eyes widened in shock, a shriek of surprise slipping out before you could stop it. “heeseung! oh my god!” you gasped, scrambling to check if he was okay.

you dropped to your knees next to him, heart pounding as panic started to rise in your chest. heeseung was out cold, completely knocked out from the alcohol. shit. you tried shaking him gently, calling his name, but nothing. he didn’t even stir. not even a flinch.

“heeseung?” you called again, shaking his shoulder a little harder, but he was gone. damn it. you couldn’t just leave him like this. you needed to find jay or someone who could help, but when you glanced around the room, it was clear no one was paying attention.

where the hell is jay? you cursed under your breath. wasn’t this his party? wasn’t he supposed to make sure shit like this didn’t happen? you got up, your eyes darting around, searching for any sign of him. you started knocking on random doors, hoping one of them would lead to jay.

after a couple of tries, you heard a muffled voice from behind one of the doors. “JUST GO AWAY!”

you froze. that was definitely jay, and he sounded pissed. you stared at the door, debating whether to knock again, but you weren’t about to deal with him in that mood. he’s clearly busy with his own shit, you thought, your stomach twisting in frustration.

with a sigh, you glanced back at where heeseung was sprawled on the floor, completely out of it. no one else was going to help, and jay was a lost cause. guess it’s up to me.

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. there’s no way i’m leaving him here like this. he’d never make it on his own, and no one else seemed to care. kneeling down beside him, you muttered, “okay, heeseung… let’s get you home,” even though you knew he wasn’t going to hear you.

you tried lifting him, but holy shit, he was heavier than he looked. “damn it,” you grunted, barely managing to prop him up against the couch. “come on, work with me here,” you muttered under your breath, even though you knew he was too far gone to do anything.

shit, where does this guy even live? you stared at him for a moment, realizing you had no idea. you shook his shoulder again, this time a bit more urgently. “heeseung? hey, you gotta wake up. where do you live?”

he blinked up at you, his eyes unfocused, his head swaying as he tried to process what you said. “wha…?” he mumbled, voice thick and slurred.

“heeseung, i need to get you home. where do you live?” you asked again, louder, hoping something would click in his foggy brain.

he blinked again, looking like he was trying to focus, then lazily pointed in some random direction. “i… live, uh… over… there?” he mumbled, before his hand flopped back into his lap like he’d just given you the most important information ever.

you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this was. “yeah, over where exactly, genius?” you muttered, giving him another shake. “come on, focus. where’s your house?”

heeseung squinted, his face scrunched up like he was trying to solve the hardest math problem ever. “my house… well, we’re not at my house right now,” he said, giggling to himself like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.

you rolled your eyes, but a laugh slipped out before you could stop it. “yeah, thanks for clearing that up.”

he squinted again, like he was finally realizing how unhelpful he was being. “no, wait… i got this,” he slurred, lifting a finger like he was about to say something profound. “my mom… she makes pancakes. really good ones,” he mumbled, his head bobbing as he tried to stay awake.

you sighed, half amused, half frustrated. “heeseung, how is that supposed to help me get you home?”

he shrugged weakly, his eyelids fluttering shut. “i dunno… but pancakes are good,” he mumbled, clearly on the verge of passing out again.

god, this is going nowhere, you thought, trying to suppress a smile. as much of a mess as he was, you couldn’t help but find the whole situation kind of funny. here he was, trying his best to be helpful, and all he could come up with were pancakes and vague directions.

“alright, buddy,” you muttered with a sigh, shaking him a little more firmly. “let’s try this again. do you know your address?”

heeseung nodded, then immediately paused, like he’d forgotten what you just asked him. “uh… what was the question?” he mumbled.

you sighed, shaking him a bit harder. “heeseung, please. what’s your address?”

he blinked slowly, and after a few moments, it finally seemed to register. “oh… uh… i live like… three blocks from here? yeah… three blocks,” he muttered, sounding half-asleep but at least coherent enough to give you a real answer.

“three blocks?” you repeated, more to yourself than him. “okay, i can work with that.”

looking down at him, still a complete mess but not entirely unconscious, you steeled yourself for what was coming. “alright, come on,” you said, grabbing his arm and using every bit of strength you had to pull him up. “let’s get you home.”

heeseung stumbled to his feet, barely managing to stay upright as he leaned heavily against you. as you guided him toward the door, his body weight pressing into yours, he gave you this drunken, confused look, his words slurred as he blinked at you in disbelief. “you’re really helping me? why?”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little at how genuinely surprised he sounded. “because i’m not about to let you pass out on some random couch—or worse, end up in a ditch,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “someone’s gotta make sure you don’t get lost trying to find your way home.”

heeseung blinked again, his face scrunching up in a mix of confusion and what looked like genuine gratitude. “oh… that’s nice,“ he mumbled, sounding almost touched. "thanks… like, really… that’s… nice.”

you shook your head with a grin, keeping him steady as you both made your way out of the house and into the cool night air. the sounds of the party faded behind you, replaced by the quiet of the neighborhood, the occasional distant car the only noise breaking the stillness.

"it’s no big deal,” you said, adjusting your grip on his arm to keep him from wobbling too much. “just making sure you don’t end up in a situation you’re gonna really regret tomorrow.”

heeseung let out a low, awkward chuckle. “yeah… ‘preciate it. didn’t think anyone’d… care enough to help,” he muttered, still sounding like he couldn’t quite believe you were doing this.

you glanced over at him, his head lolling slightly as he stumbled along. despite his drunken state, you couldn’t help but smile softly. “well, now you know someone does.”

you walked in relative silence for a bit, his steps still unsteady, but he was at least following your lead. but then, halfway to his place, he suddenly mumbled. “man, i was already at jay’s house, though. i could’ve just crashed there… people know me there…” his words dragged out, like he was trying to convince himself of something. “and now i gotta walk home… and… i gotta pee…”

you stopped in your tracks, blinking at him. oh, my god. he was right. this whole party is at jay’s place. of course he could’ve stayed there. your stomach twisted as the realization sank in. “oh my god, i’m an idiot.”

heeseung, in his drunken haze, nodded solemnly, like you’d just made some grand discovery. “yeah… but i gotta pee though.”

“wait, when i knocked on jay’s door earlier, he sounded super pissed,” you explained quickly, trying to justify your mistake. “i didn’t think he’d let you crash there. he seemed really… busy.”

heeseung blinked a few times, processing your words through his foggy brain before shrugging lazily. “yeah… jay can be a dick when he’s stressed.” he stumbled forward again, catching himself on you. “but, uh… yeah, it’s my fault. i said some dumb shit earlier. no wonder he’s mad.” he sighed, his head hanging lower. “guess i really do need to go home.”

you stood there for a second, letting it all sink in. turning back now seemed pointless. you’d already walked this far, and heeseung himself had admitted that he probably pissed jay off. crashing there would’ve likely been a disaster anyway.

you sighed, adjusting your grip on him again. “well, we’re almost halfway there. might as well keep going,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “and, uh… we’ll find somewhere for you to pee on the way.”

heeseung let out a half-drunken chuckle. “thanks for… not leaving me in a ditch.”

“yeah, well, you’re welcome. just… don’t pee on yourself, okay?” you teased, shaking your head as a small smile tugged at your lips. the whole situation was absurd, but somehow you were both laughing about it.

“actually… if you could stop here?” heeseung mumbled suddenly, already fumbling with his belt as he swayed slightly. you blinked at him, confused for a second, but then it hit you—he was really about to pee. right here.

“uh, okay, sure,” you muttered, glancing around awkwardly as he stumbled off to the side of the sidewalk, finding a random bush to aim at. you quickly turned your back, trying to give him a bit of privacy, though the whole situation felt ridiculous.

you stared up at the sky, doing your best to pretend this wasn’t happening. this night just keeps getting better, you thought, cringing as the unmistakable sound of him fumbling around and finally peeing filled the air.

heeseung froze midstream, clearly realizing how loud it was. “uh… sorry, this is… louder than i thought,” he mumbled, his voice laced with embarrassment.

you couldn’t help but snort, biting your lip to keep from laughing out loud. “it’s fine, heeseung. just… finish up,” you said, shaking your head, doing your best not to die from secondhand embarrassment. what a mess.

heeseung groaned softly. “i’m so fucking sorry… this is the worst…”

“just… don’t fall over, okay?” you teased, still looking away, but you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

“i'm trying,” he muttered, clearly more embarrassed with every passing second. the sound of his pee hitting the ground seemed to echo in the quiet night, and you could practically feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him.

finally, after what felt like the longest, most awkward moment of your life, he zipped up and stumbled back over to you, still red-faced and avoiding your gaze. “okay… all done,” he mumbled, clearly mortified.

“great,” you said, trying to sound upbeat as you started walking again. “let’s never speak of this again.”

as you reached out to steady him, your arm slipping around his waist to support him for the walk ahead, heeseung suddenly jerked back a little, still wobbly but clearly distressed. “shit… i didn’t wash my hands,” he mumbled, voice thick with drunken regret, like this was the worst thing that had happened all night.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. a loud, genuine laugh burst out of you, echoing down the quiet street. “oh my god, heeseung, it’s fine,” you managed between fits of laughter, your shoulders shaking as you tried to hold yourself together. “we’ll survive.”

he blinked at you, his expression confused and a little lost, staring at his hands like they were contaminated with something deadly. “but, like… germs,” he slurred, his face scrunched in concern.

“it’s fine,” you repeated, still giggling as you shook your head at the absurdity of the situation. “we’ve been through so much tonight. i think i’ll survive without you washing your hands.”

heeseung squinted at you for a second, then let out a small, sheepish laugh. “yeah… okay,” he muttered, stumbling back toward you. “but, like… sorry.”

“no need to apologize for that,” you said, still grinning as you slipped your arm back around him, helping him walk again, this time without him pulling away. “you’re not the first drunk person to forget about hygiene.”

he chuckled, leaning heavily on you as you both continued down the street, a little more relaxed now that the awkwardness had passed. “still… i’m a mess, huh?” he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

“yeah,” you agreed with a soft smile, keeping him steady. “but it’s okay.”

because it was heeseung. no matter how messy, awkward, or downright ridiculous the night had been, it was perfect in its own weird way. the fact that you were here with him—this version of him, drunken, embarrassed, and just so him—made it feel like something special.

heeseung, oblivious to the thoughts running through your mind, kept leaning on you, muttering little apologies under his breath, his head hanging low as he walked. but you couldn’t stop smiling. you could’ve left him at the party, passed out and miserable, let him wake up tomorrow with no memory of any of this. but instead, you were here, guiding him home, laughing at his drunken antics, and feeling this strange sense of contentment.

he might forget everything by morning—forget the dumb pick-up line, the awkwardness, even this entire walk home. but you wouldn’t. this wasn’t perfect by any traditional standard, but it was real. and in its own way, that made it… kind of perfect.

as you both continued walking, the night air cool around you, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. this moment, as strange and chaotic as it was, felt like yours to hold onto.

finally, after what felt like forever, you made it to heeseung’s house. your legs ached a little from the walk, but relief washed over you as you stood in front of his door. you reached out and rang the doorbell, hoping someone inside would answer and help you out.

nothing.

you rang it again. still nothing.

“come on,” you muttered under your breath, glancing over at heeseung, who was leaning against the wall beside the door, half out of it. he was barely holding himself up, his head bobbing as he blinked slowly at the house.

“heeseung,” you said, nudging him lightly. “do you have a key or something?”

he mumbled something incoherent, still not exactly helping the situation. you sighed, running a hand through your hair as you tried to figure out what to do next. standing there for what felt like forever, you finally turned to him again.

“heeseung, come on. help me out here. do you even live here?”

he blinked a few more times, his expression blank before he suddenly focused on the door. “oh… wait… yeah, it’s unlocked,” he slurred, like it had just occurred to him.

you stared at him, a mix of disbelief and amusement washing over you. “seriously? you could’ve mentioned that ten minutes ago.”

heeseung just grinned sleepily. “sorry… drunk.”

you sighed, shaking your head as you reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “alright, let’s get you inside.”

you helped him inside, guiding him carefully through the doorway, but the second you stepped into the dimly lit entrance, hesitation washed over you. you glanced at heeseung, who was barely able to stand, his body weight practically leaning on you, and then around the quiet house. should you even be here?

“um… are you sure i should help you in?” you asked, unsure if you were overstepping. the last thing you wanted was to intrude, but the thought of leaving him in this state alone didn’t sit right either.

heeseung gave a lazy nod, still leaning heavily on you, his words slurred. “yeah… i’m good. you’re good. ‘s fine,” he mumbled, though the way he said it wasn’t exactly convincing.

you carefully stepped inside, trying not to make too much noise just in case his parents were home. the last thing you needed was to wake them up and have to explain why their son was stumbling around like he’d just lost a fight with a bottle of vodka. tiptoeing through the house, your nerves on edge, you glanced around—it was eerily quiet.

“heeseung… where’s your room?” you whispered, praying he’d give you a straight answer.

he squinted at you like you’d asked him to solve a riddle. “uh… upstairs? or… maybe… downstairs?” he mumbled, clearly just as lost in his own house as you were.

he thought about it for another second before nodding. “upstairs… definitely upstairs,” he slurred, as if he’d finally cracked the code.

you gave him a skeptical look but decided to roll with it. slowly, you began leading him up the stairs, each step feeling like an exercise in stealth, hoping with every creak that no one else would wake up. your heart raced a little more with every step, praying you’d get to his room without waking anyone.

at the top of the stairs, you paused, glancing down the hallway. “okay, which one’s your room?” you asked quietly.

heeseung blinked, swaying a little as he pointed down the hall. “uh… second door on the right? yeah, that’s it,” he mumbled, his voice full of uncertainty.

you sighed but figured it was the best lead you had. guiding him to the door, you opened it slowly, half-expecting it to be the wrong room.

“alright, home sweet home,” you whispered as you helped him inside. “now let’s get you into bed before you pass out in the hallway.”

as you stepped into his room, his scent hit you instantly—a mix of something clean but a little musky, warm, and somehow comforting. your heart fluttered for a moment, and you took in your surroundings. the room was exactly what you’d expected, messy but lived-in. clothes were strewn across the floor, his gaming setup in the corner, and his bed, barely made, was in complete disarray. it was so… him.

distracted by the details of his space, you shook it off and focused on the task at hand. get him to the bed. guiding him over to the mattress, you gently helped him sit down. he flopped back with a groan, limbs heavy and uncooperative, sprawling across the bed in a way that made you shake your head.

as you were about to leave him to sleep it off, you noticed how dry and cracked his lips were. he’s gotta be dehydrated, you thought, glancing around the room for something. you spotted a half-full water bottle on his desk and grabbed it, kneeling beside the bed.

“hey, heeseung, drink this,” you said softly, nudging his shoulder to wake him enough to take a sip. “come on, you’ll feel better.”

he blinked groggily, clearly struggling to stay awake, but when he saw the water, he mumbled something incoherent and reached out slowly. you guided the bottle to his lips, tipping it carefully as he took a few slow, sloppy sips. a bit of water spilled down his chin, but he managed to drink most of it.

“there you go,” you murmured, using your sleeve to wipe the droplets from his face. “better?”

he hummed softly, his eyes already closing again, the water seemingly calming him a little. “thanks…” he muttered, his voice barely audible as he sank deeper into the bed, finally looking more comfortable.

you couldn’t help but smile at how helpless he looked, sprawled out like a kid who’d played too hard and crashed. he was a mess, but god, you couldn’t deny how endearing he was in this state. with a soft sigh, you stood there for a moment longer, just taking him in—his messy hair, flushed face, the way he was finally peaceful after such a chaotic night.

“thanks, heeseung, i had a lot of fun,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, knowing he wouldn’t hear or remember any of this. it didn’t matter, though. this night had been something you’d treasure, as imperfect as it was.

you pulled out your phone, glancing at the screen, debating whether to text someone for a ride home. as you turned to leave, ready to let him sleep off the rest of his drunken haze, you suddenly felt a tug on your arm. your heart jumped in your chest.

heeseung had grabbed your wrist, his grip clumsy but just firm enough to stop you from walking away. you turned, wide-eyed, looking down at him. he was still half-asleep, his eyes barely open, but the message was clear—he didn’t want you to leave.

“where’re you going?” heeseung slurred, his voice low and heavy with sleep, but the question hit you harder than you expected. your pulse raced, caught completely off guard by the way he held onto your wrist, his grip firm enough to keep you there. for a moment, you couldn’t even find the words to respond.

“home,” you finally managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. his hand was hot against your skin, and despite how out of it he was, heeseung managed to pull you closer. before you knew it, you were standing right at the edge of his bed, his sleepy eyes blinking up at you like he was trying to figure out what to say next.

heeseung stared at you, his brow furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to fight through the fog in his brain. “you… don’t have to go,” he mumbled, slurring his words but sounding oddly sincere. “i… i’m really glad you helped me and… y’know, stayed.”

you raised an eyebrow, half amused and half confused. “heeseung, you’re drunk.”

he groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “yeah, but… i don’t want you to leave yet,” he admitted, his voice nervous as his eyes darted away. then, out of nowhere, he blurted, “you can… maybe just… stay here?” the moment the words left his mouth, his face flushed deep red, and he quickly backpedaled. “i mean—not like that! i mean, we could… like, just…”

he trailed off, clearly mortified, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly at his awkwardness. “what are you trying to say, heeseung?” you teased, watching as his face grew even redder.

he sputtered, clearly struggling to string together a coherent thought. “i—I’m not asking you to sleep with me! i just meant—you could, uh, cuddle? if you wanted to?” his voice grew quieter with each word, until he was practically whispering, his eyes wide with embarrassment.

you stifled a laugh, shaking your head. “heeseung, you don’t even know me,” you said teasingly, though your heart was doing flips at how vulnerable he was being.

he looked up at you, his eyes a little glassy but serious despite the alcohol clouding his mind. “i… i know enough,” he mumbled, his words slow and slurred. “you’re not dangerous. and you kept up with me even when i was, uh, difficult.”

he tugged on your wrist gently again, his expression almost pleading. “just… please?” he asked softly. “it’s… nice when you’re here.”

your heart melted a little at his honesty, and you let out a quiet sigh before sitting down on the edge of his bed. the moment you did, his grip on your wrist loosened, and heeseung gave you a sleepy, grateful smile. “thank you,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

he blinked up at you with his heavy-lidded eyes, his face still flushed with both drunkenness and embarrassment. “so, um…” he slurred, clearly nervous, “how can i politely ask you to allow me to cuddle you?”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly at how ridiculous he sounded. in all his drunken glory, he somehow managed to be both an absolute mess and the sweetest guy in the room. as he sluggishly shifted toward the pillows, his movements slow and awkward, it was clear he was urging you to follow him, his hand still loosely holding onto yours.

you stared at him, unsure if you should actually move closer, but heeseung was fully beckoning you, his eyes droopy yet focused on you, like he wasn’t going to let you leave without getting his way.

“uh…” you hesitated. “heeseung, I don’t think you’re exactly in your right mind right now.”

he looked up at you with the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. “but… i really wanna cuddle,” he mumbled, his voice soft and a little pleading. “and you’re… really comfy-looking.”

“comfy-looking?” you repeated, biting back a laugh.

he nodded, his head bobbing lazily as he made grabby hands at you from the bed. “yeah… you’re like… a human pillow or something.”

you snorted at that. a human pillow? only heeseung could make something that ridiculous sound like a compliment.

“come on,” he muttered, slurring his words even more as he patted the spot beside him. “just… for a bit. i’ll be good, i swear.”

with a sigh, you finally gave in, sitting down beside him on the bed. “okay, but if you drool on me, I’m leaving,” you teased, though your heart was hammering in your chest.

heeseung grinned lazily, clearly pleased with himself, and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “deal,” he mumbled, already half-buried under the blankets, his breath warm against your shoulder.

“wow, you smell good,” he mumbled sleepily against your shoulder, his voice thick with drowsiness but laced with genuine appreciation. his nose brushed lightly against your skin as he inhaled deeply, like he was savoring the scent.

you froze, your heart pounding in your chest. was this really happening? heeseung was cuddled up next to you, telling you that you smelled good, like it was the most casual thing in the world, while your brain was going into overdrive.

“you smell like…” he paused, his words slow and thoughtful despite his drunken state, “like… vanilla. and… something warm, like fresh laundry.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how oddly specific his observation was. vanilla? fresh laundry? it wasn’t anything special, just the everyday scent of you—clean, comfortable, and familiar. and somehow, even in his drunken haze, he’d picked up on that.

your cheeks flushed as he snuggled closer, his arm loosely draped around your waist, his warmth radiating against you. is this real? your mind screamed as your heart raced, pounding in your chest like it was about to explode.

heeseung nuzzled closer, his breath tickling the side of your neck as he lazily muttered, "yeah, like… really comfy. you feel… safe.” his voice trailed off, and for a moment, you thought he was finally drifting off to sleep.

but then, you felt it—something unmistakable pressing lightly against your thigh.

was he…? your brain scrambled, trying to process the situation as the atmosphere shifted from soft and sweet to something entirely different. heeseung, still half-drunk and completely unaware of what he was doing, shifted closer, his body pressing tightly against yours. his arm around your waist pulled you into him, and he let out a soft sigh, completely oblivious to the storm he was creating inside you. your mind was a mess, caught between pure panic and disbelief. part of you wanted to wake him up, shake him out of this, and bolt for the door. but the other part of you… the part that didn’t want to admit how much you liked this, that part wanted to stay.

you shifted, trying to pull away, to put some distance between you and heeseung, but your body betrayed you, jerking forward in an awkward attempt to escape. and that’s when it got worse. every time you moved, he pressed closer, chasing the warmth of your body like he was seeking comfort. the way he nestled against you, so warm, so close—it made your mind spiral with thoughts you couldn’t control.

oh god, how big is he? the question flashed through your mind before you could stop it, heat rushing to your face as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. stop it, stop thinking like that, you scolded yourself, but it was impossible. his body was too close, too solid, too… there.

you swallowed hard, guilt creeping in as you realized that, drunk or not, heeseung had no idea what he was doing. he’s drunk, you reminded yourself. he doesn’t know. but every time you shifted to create some space, he followed, letting out a soft, sleepy groan and instinctively pressing deeper into you.

and before you knew it, his body had nestled itself right between your thighs. your breath caught in your throat, and every little movement from him sent a ticklish, torturous sensation through you. you tried to ignore it, to focus on anything else, but then his hard length brushed against your clothed core, and your hips jerked involuntarily, a wave of panic and heat spreading through you.

oh fuck, this is bad. you could feel it—feel yourself getting wet, and your mind screamed at you to do something, anything, to get out of this situation before it got worse. but heeseung, completely unaware, kept moving closer, his body acting on autopilot, chasing the comfort of your warmth.

you froze, caught between the desire that was creeping in and the guilt that was clawing at your conscience. what the hell were you supposed to do now? your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions—desire, confusion, guilt, panic. you were stuck, unable to pull yourself away, and then the worst thing happened.

a soft, unexpected moan slipped from your lips.

the second the sound left your mouth, heeseung’s breathing changed. it became heavier, more deliberate, like he was responding to the noise. a low groan rumbled from him, and though his movements were sluggish, they felt more… intentional.

his hot breath fanned over your ear, and before you could stop yourself, you turned your head, desperate to see if he was awake—if he was really aware of what he was doing. and that’s when your eyes met his.

your breath hitched.

he was already looking at you, his eyes half-lidded and dazed, but there was an intensity behind them that made your pulse race. but the more you stared, the more you realized—he wasn’t fully there. his eyelids fluttered, his gaze distant, but somehow still focused on you.

he let out another low groan, his voice raspy as he mumbled, “this feels… good…” his words were slurred, heavy with sleep and alcohol, but the raw honesty in them sent a shiver down your spine.

his hand brushed lightly against your side, his fingers grazing your waist, and another soft groan escaped him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. he nuzzled against you like he was sinking deeper into a dream, his body responding to yours without any awareness of the chaos he was causing.

his breathing grew more ragged, and his grip on you tightened, like he was afraid you’d slip away. “no… you can’t leave…” he muttered, his voice shaky and filled with a desperation that made your heart pound. “you’re not real… it’s a dream… just a dream…”

the conviction in his voice was clear—he thought this was all a dream. he was convinced that none of this was real, that you weren’t really there, that everything was part of some fantasy his drunken mind had created. a pretty girl in his bed, your warmth against his body, your scent filling his senses—it was too perfect for him to believe it was real.

heeseung inhaled deeply, as if trying to memorize the way you smelled. “wow…” he whispered, his voice low and rough, sending another shiver down your spine as your back arched involuntarily. “no… don’t go.”

his grip on you tightened, becoming more possessive, as if holding onto you would keep the dream from slipping away. his fingers, trembling slightly now, traced the side of your waist, slipping under your top. his touch was tentative, almost like he was confirming that you were still there, that this dream of his hadn’t disappeared.

and with each touch, your body reacted, your stomach clenching, your thighs pressing together as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second. his fingers danced across your skin, soft and slow, and you could barely breathe.

heeseung’s desperation grew with each passing second, his movements more deliberate, needier, as his lips pressed warm, clumsy kisses along your neck. each kiss sent jolts of electricity through your body, and despite the alarm bells blaring in your mind, you felt yourself relaxing into his touch. god, you couldn’t help it.

there was an unexpected tenderness in the way his lips moved against your skin, a slow, deliberate trail that made your heart race, pounding so hard it almost hurt. part of you knew you should stop this, pull away before it went any further. but then heeseung groaned softly, his lips pressing a little harder as he bit down gently on your neck, and the last of your resistance melted away.

you were drunk too, the alcohol lowering your inhibitions, making your body react without thinking. every kiss, every touch, left your skin tingling, and you let out a shaky breath, barely able to hold back the moan that slipped from your lips. instinctively, you tilted your head back, giving him more access as your hands gripped the fabric of his shirt, your mind lost in the moment.

but then you felt him shifting, his hands fumbling as he slowly tugged down his pants, and panic sliced through the fog in your mind. heeseung, wait, you thought, but your voice came out shaky. “this isn’t a dream,” you whispered, but it was like he didn’t hear you—or worse, he didn’t believe it.

he let out a low, frustrated groan, shaking his head. “no… you’re not getting away this time,” he mumbled, his words thick with need. “just… let me put it in. please.” his voice was so desperate, filled with a longing that made your heart twist in your chest. it was like he had begged for this in his dreams, over and over again.

the sound of his cock slapping against his stomach was unmistakable, and your mind reeled as you heard him whine, “i’m so horny,” his tone almost childlike in its frustration, like he couldn’t handle being denied any longer. his hand wrapped around his length, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as he positioned himself, dangerously close to you.

the air between you felt thick, heavy with tension. he shifted again, and then he asked, almost too dejectedly, “do you really not wanna do it?” the way his voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability in his tone, made your stomach churn with guilt. god, yes, you thought. you do want this. but he was drunk, confused, and he had no idea what he was doing.

before you could find the words to say anything, you felt him. the tip of his cock brushed against your damp, clothed core, and you let out a shaky gasp. “please,” he whispered, not giving you a chance to speak, his voice laced with desperation.

oh fuck it.

before you even realized it, your body was moving on its own, pulling him closer, your hands reaching behind to grip his waist and press him against you. the desperation in his voice, the raw need in his movements—it was contagious, wrapping around you like a fever, and any trace of rational thought disappeared.

heeseung groaned softly, his breath hot against your neck as his hips moved more frantically, grinding against you with a helpless urgency. his cock, hard and throbbing, dragged along your clothed pussy, sending shivers up your spine with every slow, torturous movement. you could feel every pulse, every inch of him pressed so close, teasing you.

his tip grazed the entrance of your pussy, the friction lighting up your body, making you gasp. “fuck,” you whispered, your hips rolling against his, your body responding to his every move. each drag of his cock against you only made you wetter, the thin fabric of your underwear soaked from the tension building between you.

heeseung’s breath came in heavy pants, his head resting against your shoulder as he let out a soft whine. it was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his body chasing the friction, the need to be closer, to feel more. “mhmm… yes, god yes,” he muttered, his voice thick and broken, filled with raw need.

any hesitation you had melted away, consumed by the heat of the moment. all that mattered now was this—the way heeseung’s body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he was holding on for dear life, his cock rubbing against you with a desperate intensity.

“please,” he whined again, his voice trembling, thick with need. his hips stuttered against yours, the friction driving him wild as he ground into you, chasing that feeling that seemed just out of reach. “just… let me… just a little more…”

his lips brushed against your ear, his voice barely a whisper, shaking with desperation. “just the tip? please?”

the way he spoke, his voice filled with such need, sent a shiver down your spine. you could feel him, pressing against the entrance of your pussy, his cock straining, desperate for just a little more.

every nerve in your body lit up in response, your skin tingling with anticipation. you knew you shouldn’t cross this line, knew it was wrong, but the way heeseung begged—how could you say no?

just the tip, he had said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. and fuck, you wanted it. more than anything in that moment, your body was screaming for it.

your breath came out shaky as you considered it, your hips tilting up ever so slightly, pressing against him. you wiggled your hips, testing the waters, wanting to see how he’d react.

heeseung gasped, his body trembling against yours as you teased him. his reaction was immediate, a soft, needy groan slipping past his lips. “please… stop teasing,” he murmured, his voice husky, desperate. “let me feel your pussy…”

the nerves that had been creeping up on you only made the moment more intense. your hands trembled slightly as you slowly lifted your skirt, the fabric bunching around your waist. each movement was heavy with anticipation, your breath hitching as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugged them down, shakily. the cool air hit your skin, and the awareness of how wet and ready you were for him made your head spin.

you weren’t a virgin, but god, the intensity of this moment made you feel like you were crossing some new, dangerous line—and you loved it.

heeseung propped himself up on his elbow, his eyes locking onto yours as his hands gently cupped your cheeks, pulling you closer. the desperation in his gaze was undeniable—he needed to see you, to watch every flicker of emotion cross your face as the intensity of the moment built between you. his breath came out in shaky pants, his gaze half-lidded, filled with hunger and disbelief.

“please…” he whispered, his voice raw and filled with awe as he leaned in, his hands sliding down your body to grip your thigh, pulling it up toward your chest. the closeness, the need between you two, had your heart racing, matching his shallow, ragged breaths.

his eyes darkened with need as he released his cock, painfully hard, guiding it toward your exposed entrance. “just the tip,” he repeated, his voice trembling with desperation, like he was trying to convince both of you to believe it was enough. his hands shook slightly as he held your thigh in place, steadying himself as the head of his cock brushed against your wet, sensitive entrance.

the warmth of him teased your slick folds, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, there was no turning back. heeseung let out a soft, needy groan as he slowly pushed the tip inside, the stretch immediate. your pussy tightened around him, the sensation overwhelming, and you gasped, your body instinctively responding to the pleasure of him barely entering you.

as he eased the tip in further, heeseung grunted, his breath hitching in his throat as your tightness enveloped him. the warmth, the snug grip of your body around him—he hadn’t expected it to feel this good. not like this. his jaw went slack, a low, breathless moan escaping his lips as his head tilted back, his eyes squeezing shut in pure bliss.

heeseung trembled, overwhelmed by how easily he slid inside, the pleasure shooting through his body like fire. “fuck,” he rasped, his hands gripping your thigh tighter as he tried to hold himself back, his body shaking with the effort. but the feeling of you wrapped around him, even with just the tip, was driving him insane.

“ohhh yes…” he groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as though you were his lifeline. his body trembled as he fought to maintain control, the promise of “just the tip” quickly slipping from his mind. you could feel his desperation in the way he shook, the tension in his muscles as he struggled to keep his word. but the way your body clenched around him, how tight and wet you were, made it nearly impossible for him to stop.

heeseung’s head lolled forward, his eyes glazed with lust as he gazed down at you, panting heavily. “so… fucking tight,” he muttered, his voice trembling, barely able to form the words as the pleasure overwhelmed him. his cock throbbed inside you, each pulse sending a wave of pleasure through both of you, his body clearly begging for more, desperate to push deeper, to give in to the need that was consuming him.

he was trying so hard, his breath shaky and shallow as he struggled to hold back. the slick between your legs coated his cock, making every movement feel so much more intense. “wow, you’re so wet,” he whispered, his voice quivering with awe and raw need. there was a frantic edge to his words, like he couldn’t believe what was happening, but he also couldn’t stop himself from craving more. his body shook with restraint, but the desperation spilling from his lips betrayed him.

“please… it feels so good,” he whimpered, his hips stuttering as he slid the tip in and out, teasing both of you. the sound of his cock moving against you, the slickness of your arousal, only made you both want more. every time he pulled back, the sensation left you aching, desperate for him to push further.

“can i… just a little more?” heeseung begged, his voice cracking as he gently pushed the head of his cock in again, only to pull it back out with trembling restraint. “your voice, your wet pussy… fuck… i can’t hold back,” he mumbled, his words coming out in shaky, breathless pants.

heeseung’s fingers dug into your skin, holding on for dear life as he fought the overwhelming urge to push deeper. you could see it in his eyes, the battle he was losing, the way his body was shaking, desperate to feel more of you.

despite how much you wanted it too, you found the strength to shake your head. “no,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, trying to hold on to some control in the situation. you couldn’t let this go any further.

heeseung let out a soft, defeated whine, his head dropping in frustration as he continued to thrust the tip of his cock in and out, his body visibly trembling from the effort of holding back. “okay… okay… 'm sorry, just the tip,” he repeated, his voice filled with both submission and longing, his hips grinding slightly against you despite his promise. he was trying so hard, you could see it in the way his muscles tensed, his hands gripping your hips as though they were the only thing grounding him. “i’ll be good, i’m trying not to put it all in, i promise… just the tip,” he mumbled again, like he was convincing himself just as much as he was you. his hips jerked forward in short, erratic bursts, trying to keep the sensation alive without pushing deeper. every tiny movement made him shudder, his breath catching with every second that passed.

“f-fuck…” heeseung stuttered, his inexperience painfully clear in every shaky breath, every clumsy but eager movement. he was overwhelmed. completely lost in the sensation of your pussy, barely able to comprehend the pleasure that had him teetering on the edge.

“holy fuck… it's—” his voice cracked as his hips jerked forward again, the tiny thrusts barely giving him relief, yet still too much for him to handle. his hands clutched your hips tighter, his body trembling as he struggled to maintain control, but the way you squeezed around him, how tight you felt, made him shudder.

you could feel his desperation in every sloppy, uncoordinated thrust. his lips parted, little gasps and whimpers escaping every time he pushed just barely inside you, the sensation clearly overwhelming him. he was fucking adorable, the way he whined, the way his voice broke with every breath, the way his whole body trembled in need.

“you’re s-squeezing me,” he stuttered, his forehead pressing against your shoulder, his breath hot and shaky against your skin, making everything feel that much more intense. you couldn’t help it—your hips began moving on their own, rolling into him, meeting his small, desperate thrusts. your fingers dug into the sheets, and you gave in, pushing back against him, taking his cock bit by bit, your body responding to his in a way that made you crave more.

“shit,” heeseung whimpered, his voice breathless, on the verge of losing control. “oh god, i’m actually inside you… i-i…” his confession was innocent, almost vulnerable, and it sent a fresh wave of heat rushing through your body, turning you on even more.

“yes, that feels so good…” you whispered shakily, your words heavy with pleasure. it did feel good, despite his inexperience, despite his trembling hands and ragged breath. he was making you feel so fucking good, and it was impossible to deny it.

you moaned louder, your hips rocking back against him, each thrust from him fueling your own need. he was desperate, but so were you.

as you took him deeper inside you, you both gasped in unison. the stretch of him filling you was intense—he was bigger than you expected, and the way he fit inside you, stretching you so perfectly, made you cry out. your hips picked up the pace, sliding up and down his cock with an eager, desperate rhythm. the need to feel him deeper, harder, consumed you.

“fuck, heeseung, you’re stretching me so good,” you gasped, your voice dripping with lust. your walls clenched around him, wet and tight, and each time he responded with a breathless hitch, his whole body trembling beneath you.

“i can’t…” he whimpered, his voice cracking, overwhelmed by the sensation. his hands gripped your hips, trying to steady himself, but he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

his jaw hung slack, his eyes fluttering shut as he whimpered softly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. he was struggling, unable to keep up with the rhythm you set, his movements sloppy and unfocused. you could feel it—he was on the verge of losing control.

then, it happened—a loud, choked sound escaped him, followed by a shudder that rocked his entire body. his breath caught in his throat, his jaw clenching as a deep, desperate moan tore from his lips. “oh—oh fuck, agh!” he gasped, his voice cracking as he shook beneath you.

before you could fully register what was happening, you felt it—the sudden warmth flooding inside you as he came, hard. his hips jerked wildly, his cock twitching uncontrollably as he spilled into you, his entire body trembling with the force of his orgasm. he tried to hold back, tried to last longer, but it was too much—he was too inexperienced, too caught up in the moment to stop himself.

“oh shit, no,” heeseung whined, his voice barely audible, his hands clutching your waist as he struggled to catch his breath. his eyes were squeezed shut in a mix of embarrassment and lingering pleasure, his face flushed as his chest heaved from the intensity of his release. you could feel his frustration radiating off him as he came down from his high, clearly upset with himself for losing control so quickly.

heeseung’s eyes fluttered open briefly, his gaze hazy and dazed, looking up at you with a mix of shame and apology. “i’m… i’m so sorry,” he mumbled, his voice weak and slurred, struggling to get the words out. “i couldn’t hold it in…” regret washed over his face, his brow furrowing in disappointment as his body sagged beneath you, the exhaustion from the night quickly taking over.

“m’ sorry…” he slurred one last time, his voice barely a whisper before his head lolled back against the pillow, completely spent. his grip on your waist loosened, his hands falling away as his body succumbed to sleep, leaving you on top of him, alone with your thoughts. his chest rose and fell steadily, his breath evening out as he drifted into a deep, drunken slumber, completely unaware of the turmoil swirling inside you.

you sat there for a moment, still processing everything that had just happened. your body still buzzed with the warmth of desire, but it was unfulfilled, leaving you aching with a strange mix of emotions. even so, you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you looked down at heeseung, now passed out beneath you, his face soft and peaceful in the dim light.

oh, heeseung, you thought, shaking your head softly, letting out a quiet sigh.

as you caught your breath, you took in the sight of him—his face completely relaxed, the tension from earlier gone, leaving him looking innocent, almost angelic. you like him so much. the way he had been so desperate, so shy and eager to please—it made your heart swell with affection, despite the mess of the situation.

but then reality hit you like a cold splash of water. shit, he really came inside me. panic bubbled up for a moment, but it quickly faded as you remembered—you’re on birth control. everything was safe, and relief washed over you. thank god for that, you thought, running a hand through your hair as you tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions.

you glanced back down at him, his face still slack, peaceful, completely unaware of the chaos he had just been part of. what a night. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly to yourself, the absurdity of it all settling in.

but as much as that warmth lingered, as much as you liked heeseung, the weight of the situation started to press down on you. things are complicated now. really complicated. the intensity and desire of the night didn’t erase the fact that it had been a mess from the start.

sure, he was home now, safe in his bed, and that was the least of your concerns. if you left, he’d be fine, but the thought of facing him in the morning, with both of you piecing together the night’s events, made you feel uneasy. no, you couldn’t stay. leaving seemed like the best option, for both of you. it was better to avoid the awkwardness and confusion that would come when the alcohol wore off, leaving only the raw reality behind.

quietly, you moved around the room, making sure he was tucked in comfortably. you adjusted the blanket over him with care, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you pulled the covers up to his chest. as you stood there, looking down at his sleeping face—peaceful and completely unaware of everything—despite the chaos of the night, it had been special.

messy, chaotic, and complicated, but in its own strange way, one of the best nights you’d ever had.

you leaned down slightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead, whispering, “thank you,” even though he couldn’t hear you. heeseung remained still, breathing deeply, lost in whatever dreams his drunken mind had drifted to.

with one last lingering look, you quietly slipped out of his room, closing the door softly behind you. it was time to go.

as you made your way out of his house, your mind raced, replaying everything that had just happened. how did it even get to this point? just hours ago, you had been at that party—drinking, laughing, watching heeseung from across the room like you always did, quietly from the sidelines. everything seemed so normal then. and yet, somehow, the night had spiraled into something else entirely. the walk home, guiding his stumbling, drunk self, making sure he didn’t end up passed out on the sidewalk somewhere. you had seen his room, tucked him into bed, made sure he was safe. how did it escalate from that to…

you stopped in your tracks, eyes widening as a sudden realization hit you like a punch to the gut. fuck, he probably doesn’t even know your name. you never mentioned it, and he was too drunk to ask. not once did heeseung stop to question how you knew his name, or why you were even with him. the entire night had unfolded in a blur of concern, awkwardness, and then passion, but through it all, not once had you introduced yourself.

the more you thought about it, the more absurd the whole thing seemed. it wasn’t just some drunken mistake—it was more than that. you’d shared something with him, even if it was messy, rushed, and impulsive. something had happened between the two of you, something raw and unexpected.

but maybe… maybe it didn’t need to mean anything. maybe it was okay for it to just be what it was—a fleeting moment, chaotic and imperfect, but still somehow… perfect in its own strange way.

as you walked down the quiet street, the cool night air filling your lungs, you felt your head begin to clear. the more you thought about it, the more you realized you were content. you didn’t need heeseung to remember every detail, or even remember your name. it didn’t matter if he never asked who you were, or if he didn’t wake up in the morning knowing what had happened between the two of you.

it was enough that it happened at all.

heeseung, with all his shyness and awkwardness, had let you in. he had been vulnerable with you—drunk as he was, yes, but still, he’d let his guard down in a way that felt meaningful to you. even if he didn’t remember, even if it never came up again, you would still have this night to hold onto.

a soft sigh escaped your lips as a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. it didn’t need to be more than that. you didn’t need answers, or closure, or some kind of follow-up. this night had been unexpected, but it was yours now—yours to keep, to remember, to cherish in your own way.

for the first time since the night began, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. it didn’t need to be perfect. it didn’t need to be anything at all, really. what mattered was that it had happened, and that, in its own way, it had been exactly what you needed.

and as you walked away, disappearing into the night, you felt lighter, more content. this moment, chaotic and impulsive as it was, belonged to you now, and that was enough.

heeseung groaned, his head pounding like someone was hammering nails into his skull. every throb behind his eyes made him wince, the hangover hitting him like a truck. he shifted under the covers, pulling the blanket over his face to block out the harsh light cutting through the room. his throat felt like sandpaper, mouth tasting like something had died in it. he blinked, trying to shake off the fog clinging to his brain. what the hell happened last night?

“wasn’t i at jay’s?” he muttered, squeezing his temples, trying to force some clarity through the pounding headache.

he pushed himself up slowly, blinking through the haze, but panic already began settling in his chest. his clothes were a mess—pants barely hanging on, his boxers sticky with dried cum. wait… what the fuck? his brows knitted together, confusion swirling in his mind. this wasn’t just the aftermath of a wet dream. something felt different. the smell in the room… it was strong, musky. sex. it had to be. but it wasn’t just his usual scent. this was unfamiliar, unsettling even.

he sat up fully, heart pounding as he scrambled to piece together what had happened. did i have some crazy dream? shit, i can’t remember. he tried to shake it off, telling himself he was probably just being paranoid. maybe jay brought me home, and i’m overthinking it.

but the thought didn’t sit right. jay wouldn’t drag my ass home like that, he thought, especially not when he was wasted. no, something else was off. that’s when it hit him—the scent. he inhaled cautiously, slow and deliberate. was that… vanilla? it was faint but clung to the air around him, something soft, delicate, feminine. his chest tightened with unease.

how the hell would a woman’s scent be here? he thought, his pulse quickening. there’s no way. i don’t have that kind of luck. if something did happen, she probably left the second she realized what a fuck-up he was.

“what the hell?” he mumbled, throwing himself back onto the bed, frustration spiking. nothing was adding up, no matter how hard he tried to piece it together. every time he reached for a memory, it slipped away, like water through his fingers. but the scent lingered. it was like a soft whisper of something that had happened, something real, something he couldn’t quite grasp.

and he liked it. god, as confusing as it was, that scent—it was comforting, like a warm hug wrapped around him.

he shook his head, deciding to push the thoughts away. maybe jay—or someone else—brought me home, he reasoned, and the rest was just a weird, jumbled mess in my head. yeah, that had to be it. he rubbed his temples in a futile attempt to ease the pounding in his skull, letting out a long sigh.

he flopped back onto the pillows, pulling the blanket up to his chin, his eyes fluttering shut as he tried to block out the chaos in his mind. whatever it was… it didn’t matter. if something had happened, he couldn’t remember it now. and maybe that was for the best.

he took one last breath, the faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air around him, and allowed himself to drift back into the haze of sleep, convincing himself that when he woke up, everything would make sense again.

heeseung dragged himself across campus, head still pounding from the aftermath of last night, a heavy knot twisting in his stomach as he neared jay. this is gonna be rough, he thought, each step feeling heavier as he approached. jay stood by the wall, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in anger—still pissed, and heeseung knew there was no easy way around it.

“yo, jay,” heeseung started, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding jay’s glare. “did you take me home last night? 'cause, uh, I honestly don’t remember shit after you… well, after you kicked me out.”

jay’s glare deepened, and the irritation practically radiated off him. “nah, man, i didn’t take you home. why the hell would i after you fucking ruined my shot with her? figured you’d just pass out in the living room or something. i wasn’t about to deal with your drunk ass.”

heeseung’s stomach churned. fuck, guilt weighing down on him even more. he had hoped maybe jay had cooled off, but hearing it so bluntly only made it worse. “look, man, i’m sorry,” heeseung muttered, his shoulders slumping. “i was wasted. i didn’t mean to bring her up like that. shit just slipped out.”

jay’s eyes rolled, sharp as a blade. “yeah, well, you didn’t just bring her up, heeseung. you made it sound like i was screwing around with other girls or some shit. like, seriously? i finally got the confidence to talk to her after losing my virginity, and you just shit all over it.”

heeseung winced, feeling the weight of his own stupidity. “fuck, dude. i didn’t mean to screw it up for you. i’m really sorry.”

jay sighed, the tension still there, but starting to thaw. they’d been friends too long for one drunken mistake to completely shatter things. deep down, jay knew heeseung wasn’t trying to sabotage anything—he was just a dumbass when he drank too much.

“yeah, well, next time, don’t be such a fucking idiot,” jay muttered, though his tone had softened. “you shouldn’t even be getting that drunk and saying stupid shit like that. just… keep your mouth shut next time, alright?”

heeseung chuckled, feeling some of the tension ease between them. “yeah, yeah, I got it. i owe you for this one.”

jay’s lips twitched into a smirk, his irritation fading. “damn right you do.”

heeseung exhaled, relieved. they were good again—thank god. no matter how much of a mess he was, jay wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. not for long, anyway.

later that day, during class, heeseung couldn’t get his mind off the night before. his memories were patchy, but nagging fragments kept resurfacing—the scent of something soft and feminine, the way he’d felt when he woke up. none of it added up. the more he tried to piece things together, the more his head spun.

sitting in the back of the lecture hall, he leaned over to jay, keeping his voice low. “hey, do you, uh… know if i was with anyone last night?” he tried to sound casual, but the shakiness in his voice gave him away.

jay raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “what, like, with a girl?”

heeseung shrugged awkwardly. “yeah, or like… did anyone leave with me? i can’t remember shit.”

jay snorted. “dude, after you started running your mouth about jennie, i stopped keeping track of whatever the hell you were doing.”

heeseung frowned, feeling even more confused. if it wasn’t jay, and no one saw me leave… who the hell got me home?

jay glanced at him again, picking up on the unease written all over heeseung’s face. “why, man? you get lucky or something?” he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

heeseung felt heat creep up his neck, shaking his head quickly. “no, no, it’s not like that. just… never mind,” he muttered, sinking back into his seat.

jay gave him a curious look but didn’t push it, turning his attention back to the lecture. but heeseung’s mind wasn’t on the professor—it was still stuck on the unanswered questions swirling in his head. who brought me home? and… what else happened that I can’t remember?

he leaned back in his seat, frustration gnawing at him. why the fuck does this scent keep haunting me?

by lunchtime, jay and heeseung sat at their usual spot in the cafeteria, but something felt off. heeseung dropped his tray beside jay’s and sat down, glancing at him. jay wasn’t his usual self—the cocky smirk was gone, replaced by a frown as he stared at his phone, scrolling through pictures of his crush. the same girl heeseung had messed things up with the night before.

“damn, man,” heeseung muttered, feeling the weight of guilt settle heavy in his chest. “you still upset?”

jay didn’t look up, his frown deepening as he swiped through the photos with more force than necessary. “what do you think?” he muttered, barely acknowledging heeseung’s presence.

heeseung sighed, poking at the food on his plate, knowing he’d screwed up bad. “look, i said i was sorry,” he offered, hoping it might ease the tension.

jay finally looked up, irritation clear on his face, though it wasn’t the kind of anger that led to a fight. “yeah, i know. but you don’t get it, man.”

heeseung nodded, knowing full well how deep jay’s frustration ran. he’d watched his friend build up the courage to approach his crush for months, and heeseung had been the one to ruin it all in one drunken moment. “i do get it,” he said quietly. “i’d be pissed too.”

jay sighed, tapping his fingers against the table in frustration, the weight of the whole situation pressing down on him. he wasn’t angry anymore, just… defeated. heeseung could see it in the way jay was starting to give up on his crush, all because of one dumb mistake.

“honestly, i don’t even know why i’m still thinking about it,” jay muttered, shaking his head. “she’s probably telling all her friends i’m some creep now. what’s the point?”

heeseung winced, guilt gnawing at him. “you don’t know that, man. maybe if you explain, she’ll listen.”

jay let out a small scoff, though it didn’t have the usual bite behind it. “i bet she’s already told hanna i’m a complete joke.”

the silence between them stretched uncomfortably. heeseung didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know what to say to make things right. jay sighed again, finally setting his phone down on the table, poking at his food without much interest. the sharp tension had dulled, but it was still there, hanging between them like a shadow.

“look,” heeseung said, his voice softer, “if there’s anything i can do to make it right, just tell me. i know i screwed up, but maybe if you talk to her—”

jay shook his head, cutting him off. “nah, dude. you know me.” he paused, his jaw tight, clearly holding back more than he was saying.

heeseung leaned back against the bench, feeling the weight of jay’s frustration sinking deeper. it wasn’t just about the girl—jay felt exposed, vulnerable, and that’s what hurt the most.

“sorry, man,” heeseung muttered, his voice thick with regret. “i didn’t realize how much it meant to you.”

jay dragged a hand through his hair, sighing again. “it’s whatever now. i’m done trying. you’re my friend, heeseung, but this whole thing just makes me feel like a complete idiot.”

heeseung’s chest tightened at jay’s words. “you’re not an idiot.”

jay shrugged, pushing his food around the plate like it didn’t matter. “i don’t know, man. now i have to live with the fact that she’s probably never gonna talk to me again. it just sucks.”

he looked over at heeseung, his expression softening a little, the frustration giving way to exhaustion. “i’m not holding it against you, heeseung. we’re good. i’m just… over it.”

heeseung felt a small weight lift off his shoulders, but he still nodded, feeling like he owed jay more than just an apology. “i get it. if you ever wanna hang out, no games or anything, just let me know.”

jay gave him a tired smile. “yeah, thanks, man.”

they sat there for a moment, the silence more comfortable now, settling into that familiar rhythm between them. heeseung was just about to take a sip of his drink when the cafeteria doors swung open, and professor kang strode in, making a direct beeline toward their table.

heeseung glanced at jay, both of them confused as to why their professor was heading straight for them.

heeseung didn’t need to see professor kang’s face to know he was screwed. the sharp, predatory gaze the professor wore as he strode toward their table sent a chill down his spine. heeseung and jay exchanged a look—shit, what now?—but neither dared to move.

“lee heeseung,” professor kang’s voice boomed across the cafeteria, slicing through the chatter. heads turned, eyes locking onto him as the weight of curiosity and judgment settled over the room. beside him, jay stifled a laugh, leaning over with a smirk. “good luck, man,” he whispered, like heeseung was about to face a firing squad.

kang’s stride was too confident, too smug for heeseung’s liking, and his expression all but screamed that this wasn’t going to end well.

“oh no,” heeseung muttered under his breath, dread creeping in.

professor kang stopped in front of their table, crossing his arms, his glare cutting through heeseung like a knife. “heeseung, your grades…” he trailed off, raising a brow. “let’s just say they’ve been less than satisfactory.”

heeseung swallowed hard, resisting the urge to fidget under the professor’s piercing gaze. “i… uh… i’ve been working on it,” he stammered, knowing damn well he hadn’t even opened a textbook.

kang chuckled humorlessly. “working on it? from what i’ve seen, you’ve been avoiding it like the plague. and you know what that means.” his eyes flicked to jay, who had stopped laughing and was now watching intently, clearly enjoying heeseung’s impending doom.

heeseung’s stomach dropped. this is bad.

“starting tomorrow,” kang continued, his voice dripping with satisfaction, “you’re going to have a tutor.”

heeseung blinked, thrown off. “a tutor?”

kang nodded, his smirk deepening. “yes, a tutor. and not just any tutor—one of my best students.”

jay couldn’t hold back his laughter this time, snorting and covering his mouth. “good luck with that, man.”

heeseung felt like the universe was playing some kind of sick joke on him. a tutor? really? he could barely hold a normal conversation without stumbling over his words, and now he was supposed to sit through tutoring sessions with some overachiever? fantastic.

“wait—uh, professor…” heeseung stammered, trying to think of an excuse. “i think i can handle this on my own. really, i don’t need—"

kang wasn’t having it. “it’s not up for debate, heeseung. i’ve already spoken to your parents. they’re expecting results.” his gaze shifted back to jay with a smirk. “if you think you can dodge this like you and jay do with your other responsibilities, think again.”

heeseung’s heart sank. he told my parents? fuck, now he was really screwed.

as if things couldn’t get worse, kang reached into his pocket and pulled out a list. heeseung’s stomach churned.

“let’s review the subjects you’re failing, shall we?” kang’s voice rang out, drawing even more attention. heeseung’s face flushed as heads turned, the whispers starting to spread like wildfire.

“math, history, science… and english,” kang listed, each word hitting like a punch to the gut.

jay was losing it beside him, laughing uncontrollably. “dude, that’s like… everything.”

kang wasn’t finished. “and let’s not forget economics. thirty-two percent on your last quiz. truly impressive.”

the cafeteria buzzed with whispers, and heeseung could feel every pair of eyes on him now, judging, mocking. he wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear.

“look, professor,” heeseung started, his voice edging into panic. “i know my grades are bad, but i don’t need—”

kang raised a hand, silencing him. “you’ll be working with y/n. starting tomorrow.”

heeseung blinked, confused. “who… who even is y/n?”

jay leaned in, grinning from ear to ear. “only the top student in every class, dude. you’re so fucked.”

kang nodded, clearly enjoying himself. “y/n is the best. if anyone can get you back on track, it’s her.”

heeseung’s heart raced, and in a desperate plea, the words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them. “wait, professor, can’t you pick someone else? anyone else? please?”

kang raised a brow, his amusement barely hidden. “why? do you have an issue with y/n?”

heeseung rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat rise to his face. the thought of being tutored by someone so smart, someone who would probably think he was a complete idiot, made his skin crawl. and the fact that it’s a girl? great, just great. “it’s just… i don’t even know her. maybe a guy would be better?”

jay burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “oh man, this is priceless. you’re doomed.”

kang wasn’t budging. “there’s no one better than y/n. i’ve already made arrangements, and she’s agreed. besides, your parents are fully on board.”

heeseung’s face fell. there’s no getting out of this. “professor, please. i’m begging you.”

kang’s eyes narrowed, his tone final. “this isn’t up for discussion. y/n will be tutoring you at your house, every day after school. and if you even think about bailing, your parents will be notified, and the consequences will be much worse than just bad grades.”

the cafeteria had gone dead quiet, more students now eavesdropping on the conversation. jay, meanwhile, was practically shaking with laughter, enjoying every second.

“fuck,” heeseung muttered, slumping in his seat, defeated. “i’m done for.” kang gave him one last satisfied look before walking away, leaving heeseung to wallow in misery. jay slapped him on the back, still grinning like an idiot. “bro, this is gonna be hilarious. y/n tutoring you, at your house? i’m showing up just to watch you crash and burn.”

heeseung groaned, burying his face in his hands. “this is a fucking nightmare. i’m gonna make a complete fool of myself.”

jay leaned in, his grin widening. “oh, trust me. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

heeseung stared blankly ahead, his mind trying to process what had just happened. tutoring, with y/n, at my house, every day. there was no escape.

“i am so fucked.”

heeseung slammed the stall door shut, leaning his back against it, trying to catch his breath. how the hell am i supposed to survive this? tutoring with some girl he didn’t even know? he rubbed his face, feeling the tension building behind his temples. he can barely talk to girls without turning into a stuttering idiot, and now he has to deal with this?

just skip it, heeseung, a voice in his head whispered. who’s gonna care if you bail?

but he knew he couldn’t. professor kang and his parents had him on lockdown—there was no running from this now. fuck.

he checked his phone, tapping his foot impatiently. jay was supposed to meet him after class, their usual spot in the restrooms to decompress and talk shit, but jay was nowhere to be found.

“where the hell is he?” heeseung grumbled, dialing jay’s number.

the phone barely rang twice before jay picked up, his voice low and irritated. “yeah?”

“dude, what the hell? you ditched class without telling me? we could’ve bailed together,” heeseung snapped, his frustration boiling over.

jay sighed heavily on the other end. “i didn’t wanna hang out. just need space.”

“yeah, well, next time, fucking tell me,” heeseung barked, the edge of anger creeping into his voice. “you’re being weird as shit lately.”

there was a tense silence. jay’s irritation bled through the phone. “i’m fine,” he snapped back. “i just need space.”

before heeseung could say anything else, jay hung up, leaving him standing there, staring at his phone like an idiot. great. fucking great.

he stuffed his phone back into his pocket, frustration bubbling inside him. “fuck,” he muttered, running his hands through his messy hair. jay bailing is the last thing he needed.

he stepped in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. he looked like hell—dark bags under his eyes, his hair a wreck, and he felt like the world was crashing down around him. i can’t deal with this shit right now.

heeseung grunted, pulling out his phone again to type a text to jay: call me when you’re done being a moody bitch.

just as he was about to hit send, someone crashed into him, hard. his phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back.

“shit,” he cursed, quickly bending down to scoop up his phone. he looked up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of his mind, when his gaze landed on you.

you stood there, wide-eyed and disoriented, about to apologize when your stomach dropped. oh fuck. it’s him.

lee heeseung—the guy you’d been secretly crushing on for months. the same guy you’d kind of hooked up with. and now, the guy you were supposed to tutor. what are the fucking odds?

your mind raced, panic rising in your chest. of all the people to run into, why did it have to be him?

“uh… s-sorry,” heeseung stammered, his eyes flicking toward yours before quickly darting away, clearly flustered. “i didn’t see you.”

your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spiraling. just moments ago, you had found out you were assigned to tutor him. heeseung. the same guy who had begged for you, desperate and needy, finishing way too fast. yet, somehow, it was one of the most intense moments you’d had.

and now, he didn’t even remember.

“uh, it’s fine,” you mumbled, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tension tightening your stomach. get it together. he doesn’t remember. just act normal.

you forced a smile, your mind buzzing with the memory of how his body had felt against yours, the heat between you, the way he’d gripped you like he couldn’t get enough. stop thinking about it.

as you opened your mouth to say something—anything—his scent hit you. that familiar scent. your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks burn. shit, not now.

heeseung’s brow furrowed as something flickered in his eyes, like he was trying to place a memory. the scent tugged at his mind, but he couldn’t quite figure it out.

“i—i’m y/n,” you stammered, your nerves tightening your throat. “i’m, uh, your tutor.”

heeseung blinked, the words sinking in. y/n? the girl professor kang mentioned? the best student in every class. fuck.

“oh, uh, y/n,” he mumbled, feeling dumb as hell. “right. i’m heeseung.”

as if i didn’t already know that. you let out a small breath of relief, grateful that he wasn’t connecting the dots. thank god.

“nice to meet you,” you managed to say, even though your heart was racing like a runaway train.

heeseung nodded awkwardly, his thoughts spinning. the scent still tugged at something in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside. no way. you seemed too… well, smart and collected. and cute. he felt his face flush as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“uh, yeah, nice to meet you too,” he muttered, his brain still whirling, trying to figure out why you seemed so familiar. but for now, he let it go.

the awkwardness between you was thick, both of you standing there like you were stuck in some weird limbo.

“so, i guess i’ll see you tomorrow for tutoring?” you asked, desperate to escape the tension.

heeseung scratched the back of his head, feeling just as awkward. “yeah, sounds good.” i sound like a fucking robot. he glanced down at his shoes, mentally kicking himself for how weird this was.

“okay, cool,” you mumbled, your voice cracking slightly. why am i like this?

heeseung nodded again, gripping his phone so tight it was a miracle it didn’t break. “looking forward to it,” he said, immediately regretting how stiff and formal it sounded. who the hell says that?

you swallowed the embarrassment, shifting from foot to foot, trying to appear casual when everything inside you screamed awkward. “so, um… what subject do you wanna start with tomorrow?”

heeseung paused, like he was mentally sifting through his options, before blurting out, “uh… history? i suck at that.” he let out a nervous laugh that sounded more like a wheeze than anything else.

you forced a small smile, unsure if you were supposed to laugh too or just nod. “history it is.”

the silence that followed felt like it lasted an eternity. neither of you knew how to end the conversation without making things worse, both awkwardly standing there, too self-conscious to make a move.

“i… should go,” you finally said, pointing toward the bathroom door like it was the most obvious thing in the world. you winced immediately, what the hell was that?

“right!” heeseung blurted, his response way too eager. “you probably have to pee. bathroom. makes sense.”

you cringed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “yeah, i’m about to burst,” you muttered, the words spilling out before you could stop them. oh god. without waiting for him to respond, you darted into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as fast as possible.

heeseung stood there, dumbfounded, replaying the conversation in his head. what the fuck did i just say? he muttered, dragging a hand through his messy hair in frustration.

inside the bathroom, you leaned against the wall, pressing your palms to your face, trying to calm your racing heart. i’m about to burst? seriously? the embarrassment washed over you in waves as you replayed the entire cringeworthy conversation in your head.

tutoring tomorrow, you reminded yourself, taking a deep breath. just get through that, and everything will be fine. he doesn’t remember… right?

heeseung muttered curses under his breath as he shoved his things haphazardly into his bag. there was no way he was staying at school, letting the anxiety about tutoring with you eat at him all day. he’d rather face it head-on, get it over with, and maybe not lose his mind in the process.

as he slipped out of the bathroom, his heart pounded, the hallways feeling too small, too crowded. his mind replayed every awkward moment from earlier—the way he’d stumbled through his apology when you ran into each other, the way he fumbled over his words. and now i have to spend hours with her? at my house? every day?

and my room’s a fucking disaster. panic crept into his chest. shit, i gotta clean up. his pace quickened as he made a beeline for the exit. and the porn stash. fuck, gotta hide that.

he practically sprinted the whole way home, bursting through the front door with a sigh of relief when he realized his parents weren’t home yet. thank god. he had some time to fix the chaos that was his bedroom before you saw it.

he stood in his doorway, staring at the disaster that was his room. clothes were scattered everywhere, empty food containers littered his desk, and his bed looked like a tornado had swept through. fuck, i’m a slob.

without wasting any time, he threw himself into cleanup mode, tossing clothes into his closet, kicking dirty socks under his bed, and frantically shoving cans and wrappers into the trash. out of sight, out of mind. he glanced around for anything incriminating and yanked open his bedside drawer. the stash of magazines sat there, mocking him. with a frustrated grunt, he stuffed them into the back of his closet behind a pile of sneakers, hoping you’d never find them.

just as he was tossing the last of the junk into his closet, he heard the front door creak open. shit, they’re home.

“heeseung?” his mom’s voice echoed up the stairs. “you home already?”

he froze, feeling like he’d been caught doing something illegal. “uh, yeah! just… studying!” he yelled back, cringing at how fake that sounded.

footsteps approached, and soon enough, his mom was standing in his doorway, raising an eyebrow at the semi-clean room. “wow, you cleaned your room. impressive,” she said, crossing her arms with a smile. “so… professor kang called. you’re getting a tutor?”

heeseung groaned, flopping onto his bed. “yeah, i know.”

his mom walked over, ruffling his hair affectionately. “it’s not a bad thing, heeseung. you could use the help. maybe it’ll give you some confidence.”

confidence? heeseung could barely talk to people without feeling like he was choking on his own words, and now he had to sit through hours of tutoring with you, someone who was smart, pretty, and totally out of his league. disaster waiting to happen.

“mom, it’s just awkward. i don’t know her. what if it’s weird?” he said, trying to explain without giving away how much this was freaking him out.

“it’s okay to be a little awkward. just try,” she teased, shaking her head. “who knows? maybe you’ll make a friend.”

he cringed at the thought. “mom, please.”

she laughed, giving him one last ruffle of his hair before walking out. “just give it a shot.”

“and no skipping the tutoring sessions, heeseung!” his dad shouted from downstairs. “professor kang said she’s one of his best students!”

he rolled his eyes, groaning. of course, dad’s on board.

as soon as his mom left, heeseung flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. the reality hit him again—you were going to be in his house. in his room. tomorrow.

and then, there was that scent. it clung to his memory like a whisper he couldn’t shake. every time he thought about you, that faint vanilla scent flooded his mind. why the hell is this scent fucking me up so bad? he shifted uncomfortably, feeling the tension in his chest grow and… lower. fucking great.

he sat up, running his hands through his hair in frustration. get it together, man. but no matter how hard he tried to push it aside, your scent lingered, making him restless… and hard.

he grabbed one of the magazines from his stash, flipping through it to try and clear his head, but it wasn’t working. his thoughts weren’t on the glossy pages. they were on you. the way you looked at him earlier, the way your voice sounded when you said his name, that damn scent that wouldn’t leave his mind.

he tossed the magazine aside with a frustrated groan. this is fucking stupid.

the tightness in his jeans wasn’t going away, and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, his mind kept drifting back to you. she’s smart, pretty… and she’s going to be sitting in this room tomorrow, tutoring me.

and then it hit him, full force. i have a crush. a stupid, overwhelming, all-consuming crush on my tutor.

“fuck,” he muttered, rubbing his face. this is gonna be a disaster.

your fingers trembled around the straps of your backpack, grip so tight your knuckles had gone white. standing outside his house, all the memories came flooding back, overwhelming you. this house, this fucking house.

“goddamn it,” you muttered, biting hard on the inside of your cheek. how the hell were you supposed to pull this off? how were you supposed to walk into that house, sit there with him, and pretend nothing ever happened? like he didn’t get wasted and stick his piss-stained dick in you, thinking it was some messed-up dream?

your heart pounded, stomach twisting into knots tighter and tighter. every detail from that night replayed in your mind—his drunken giggles, the way his arm slung lazily around your shoulder when you walked him home, and then… that.

you stared at the door, pulse quickening the longer you stood there. just knock, you told yourself. just get it over with. but your feet were glued to the spot, hand hovering over the doorbell like a coward. you wiped your sweaty palms on your jeans, trying to force air into your lungs.

after what felt like forever, you finally knocked.

the door swung open almost instantly. it wasn’t heeseung though—it was his mom, smiling wide, completely oblivious to the storm of hell brewing inside you. “oh, you must be y/n! come on in, dear.”

you plastered on a smile, stepping inside even though everything inside you screamed turn around, walk away. the smell hit you immediately—familiar, something warm and comforting, but god, it twisted your stomach with nerves. your pulse hammered as the memories washed over you, the same house, the same scent. shit, this is real.

“heeseung! your tutor’s here!” his mom called out, her voice carrying through the house like everything was perfectly normal. she turned back to you, still beaming. “he’s been so nervous about this, you know? but we think this’ll be good for him. he really needs the help, poor thing.”

you nodded, forcing that fake smile to stay on your face, even though inside you were screaming. he’s nervous? what about me?

“heeseung, come down already!” his dad’s voice rang out from the living room, laced with amusement. “don’t keep her waiting, son.”

heeseung stumbled into view at the bottom of the stairs, looking just as flushed and panicked as you felt. his eyes met yours for a split second before darting away, awkward as hell. “uh… hey,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

you forced out a shaky, “hey.”

his parents exchanged amused glances, like they were in on some joke. “heeseung, sweetheart, relax,” his mom said, patting him on the shoulder. “y/n’s here to help, not interrogate you.”

heeseung let out a weak laugh that sounded on the verge of breaking. “yeah, i know, mom.”

from the living room, his dad chuckled. “you’re acting like it’s the first time you’ve ever had a girl over. lighten up.”

your face burned with heat, the irony punching you right in the gut. if only they fucking knew.

heeseung’s face turned beet red, and he looked like he wanted to crawl under a rock. “dad, please,” he muttered, practically begging for the conversation to stop. you shifted uncomfortably, wishing for the same.

his mom, still smiling, turned back to you. “he’s been talking about this all day, you know? but you’re such a sweet girl, i’m sure you’ll make this easy for him.”

heeseung visibly cringed at her words, his gaze glued to the floor. “mom…”

“what? it’s true!” she laughed, giving him another pat before finally leaving. “we’ll leave you two to it. make yourselves comfortable, okay?”

you nodded stiffly, heart racing like it was ready to burst out of your chest. this is a fucking nightmare.

heeseung barely lifted his head as his mom disappeared down the hall, leaving the two of you suffocating in silence. neither of you moved. the tension was thick, almost unbearable. after what felt like an eternity, heeseung finally cleared his throat, still not meeting your eyes. “uh… we can, uh, go to my room. for the tutoring.”

“yeah. sure,” you mumbled, trying to sound normal while your heart pounded against your ribcage.

he led the way upstairs, every step another painful reminder of that night. heeseung’s shoulders were stiff, his back rigid—he looked just as fucked up over this as you did, but that didn’t make it any easier.

his room hit you like a slap in the face. this fucking room. heeseung motioned to the desk without looking at you. “you can, uh, sit there. i’ll just… grab my stuff.” his hands fumbled through his bag, shaking like this was the hardest thing he’d ever done.

you slid into the chair, trying to steady your hands as you opened your own bag. “maybe we should start with history?” you said, your voice coming out shaky.

heeseung froze for a moment, then nodded, his fingers trembling as he grabbed his books. “yeah. history. sure.”

he pulled out a textbook, but it slipped from his hands and hit the desk with a loud thud. “sorry,” he muttered, face turning red as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to stay as far from you as possible.

“it’s fine,” you whispered, flipping through the textbook even though your hands were shaking like crazy. this is so much worse than you thought it’d be.

heeseung scratched the back of his neck, his knee bouncing with nervous energy. “so… history. what chapter?”

you pretended to focus, flipping through the book without really looking. “uh… chapter seven? ancient civilizations.”

“right,” he nodded, but you could tell he didn’t give a shit about ancient civilizations. his eyes kept flicking to you and then back to the book, like he couldn’t decide if he should look at you or not.

jesus christ. every glance at him brought back flashes of that night—the slurred voice, his hands on you, the heat of his breath against your neck. and now, here you were, pretending like none of it ever happened.

“uh… any questions on the chapter?” you asked, your voice cracking despite your best effort to sound normal.

heeseung shifted uncomfortably, his knee bouncing faster. “not really. i mean… i just don’t get why any of this shit matters, you know?” he let out a nervous laugh, scratching at his neck again. “like, why do we need to know about a bunch of dead guys?”

you forced a laugh, but it came out awkward and stilted. “yeah, i guess that’s one way to see it.”

and just like that, the suffocating silence returned, hanging over the room like a weight neither of you could shake.

“thanks for, you know, doing this,” heeseung mumbled, breaking the thick, uncomfortable silence. his voice was low, barely above a whisper, like he was trying not to make things even more awkward than they already were. “i know it’s probably boring as hell.”

you shook your head quickly, almost too quickly. desperate to respond, to fill the heavy tension weighing down on the both of you. “no, it’s fine. really.” your voice came out too eager, almost like you were trying to convince yourself as much as him.

your nails dug into the wood of the desk as you clenched your hands. the awkwardness was suffocating, thick in the air, making it hard to even breathe. every second you spent sitting there was another reminder of the memories you were trying so hard to bury. this was shaping up to be the longest fucking day of your life.

but then, something unexpected happened.

at first, heeseung was stumbling over every single word, barely managing to string together a coherent sentence. his nervous energy practically spilled out of him, the tension in the room reaching a breaking point. but as you started actually going over the material, you noticed something that surprised you. beneath all that nervousness, he wasn’t completely clueless. in fact, there was something sharp underneath all that anxiety. he’s not stupid, you realized, a bit caught off guard. he just hasn’t been taught right.

as you started asking him about key points from the chapter, he struggled—obviously. he could barely meet your eyes without his face turning bright red. but little by little, he found his footing. his responses became clearer, more confident, though his voice still wavered slightly. the blushing didn’t go away, but with each right answer, you saw a flicker of pride in his eyes that he tried—and failed—to hide behind his nervous façade.

the air between you started to ease, just a little, like the worst of the awkwardness was finally fading. but your muscles were still tight, your whole body feeling the strain of holding yourself together in the same room as him. fuck, I need a break.

stretching your arms over your head, you stood up. “hey, um, i’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick,” you said, your voice casual, but the truth was you needed to step away before the tension swallowed you whole.

as soon as you stood, heeseung froze, his eyes going wide like you had just found some dark, terrible secret. his mind spiraled into overdrive. shit, did i leave something out? his heart raced, his eyes scanning the room frantically. fuck, i hope she doesn’t see anything.

he scanned the room, panicking, making sure everything was hidden. is there something i forgot to stash away? goddammit, no, it’s fine, everything’s hidden. he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra as he watched you head toward the door, praying to whatever god might be listening that you wouldn’t find anything embarrassing.

it’s fine. everything’s hidden. she won’t see shit.

but then, as you walked past him, it hit him again—that scent. the one that had been messing with his head since the moment you stepped into the house. heeseung’s breath caught in his throat, and his entire body reacted, a tension tightening low in his stomach. why the hell does she smell so good? the question ricocheted through his mind as a rush of heat surged through his chest, making his skin prickle.

he didn’t understand why, but your scent was driving him crazy, pulling at something deep inside him he didn’t want to acknowledge. it was all he could focus on, filling his head, clouding his thoughts.

completely unaware of the turmoil happening just a few feet away, you walked past him like nothing was wrong, heading to the bathroom. meanwhile, heeseung sat there, gripping the edge of the bed like it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

as soon as the bathroom door shut behind you, heeseung let out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration. fuck. his thoughts were a mess, his body betraying him in ways he couldn’t control. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling. this is gonna be so much harder than I thought.

when you came back into the room, heeseung was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like he’d seen a ghost. his hands fidgeted nervously with the pillow he had awkwardly placed over his lap, and you quickly realized what he was hiding—he wasn’t exactly subtle about it.

“ready to pick up where we left off?” you asked, trying to pretend you didn’t notice. but it was obvious. he was flushed, his eyes darting away, and when he nodded, his voice cracked.

“y-yeah, sure. let’s get back to it.”

he was acting weird as hell, but you didn’t push it. you sat back down, flipping open the textbook, trying to focus. but every time you glanced at him, you saw how he squirmed, his knuckles white as he gripped the pillow over his lap. what the hell is going on with him? you wondered, but tried to brush it off.

“so, we were talking about the fall of the roman empire…” you leaned in slightly, pointing to a page, your shoulder brushing against his arm. it was just a casual touch—nothing to make a big deal about—but his reaction was immediate and intense. he stiffened, going rigid like he’d been electrocuted, his hands clutching the pillow even tighter.

“uh—I’ll be right back,” heeseung muttered, standing up so fast he nearly knocked the pillow off his lap, almost exposing exactly what he didn’t want you to see. he fumbled, yanking the pillow back into place, his face burning bright red.

you blinked, utterly confused as you watched him practically run out of the room. “okay… yeah, sure.”

heeseung slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, leaning against it like it was his last line of defense. fuck, fuck, fuck. his entire body was on fire, his mind spinning out of control. this can’t be happening. the scent of you, the way your shoulder brushed against him—it was all too much. now, he was hard as a rock, panicking like a fucking teenager.

he turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face, his hands shaking. “get it together, man,” he muttered to his reflection, staring at the mirror as if it could fix everything. but no matter how hard he tried, the memory of your touch, your scent, clung to him, making his pulse race and his skin feel too tight. i’m so screwed.

back in the room, you sat there, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. he’s acting so weird. maybe he was just anxious, maybe he needed a minute to calm himself down. but the way he bolted out? way too dramatic. something was definitely off.

and then you heard it.

at first, it was faint—so quiet you almost convinced yourself you’d imagined it. but then it came again, clearer this time: a low, breathless moan.

your eyes widened, your heart stuttering in your chest. oh my fucking god. no. there’s no way. you froze, straining to hear, but now there was no mistaking it—the soft, needy sounds coming from behind the bathroom door. he’s jerking off.

because of you.

a rush of heat shot through your body, every nerve on fire as you sat there, paralyzed by the realization. what the hell am I supposed to do? your heart hammered in your chest, torn between shock and… something else. something hotter, more dangerous, pooling low in your stomach as his muffled groans filled the room.

you pressed your thighs together, trying to ignore the way your body was reacting, your breathing shaky as you listened. it was insane, this whole situation was insane, but there was no denying the effect it was having on you. you were turned on, and that knowledge sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t quite suppress.

when heeseung finally returned, he looked way too refreshed, like he’d just hit the reset button on his whole system. his face was still flushed, but there was a smug, almost guilty glint in his eyes. he thought he’d gotten away with it.

he smiled awkwardly at you, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “uh, sorry about that,” he mumbled. “don’t worry… i washed my hands.”

you laughed—an actual, real laugh that slipped out before you could stop it. something about the way he said it, like a dumbass joke he thought would break the ice, hit differently. it reminded you of the night, a jolt of familiarity running through you, an inside joke only the two of you would get.

“we’ve already been through so much material today. i think i’ll survive without you washing your hands.”

the second the words left your mouth, you saw it—the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the way his face shifted, like something deep in his brain snapped into place. fuck. his body went stiff, the color draining from his face before flushing a deep, panicked red.

heeseung’s wide, frantic eyes locked onto yours, his voice cracking when he spoke. “what?”

your heart dropped, hands going clammy as the weight of it all crashed down on you. shit. you could see it in his face, the way realization slowly crept in, the horror dawning on him. he remembers.

“what?” you echoed, panic rising in your chest. but then you saw it—the way his expression crumbled, the memories hitting him like a freight train, dragging both of you back to that night.

“fuck,” heeseung muttered, stepping back, his eyes darting between you and the floor like he was trying to escape a nightmare. “that was you?” he whispered, his voice breaking under the weight of the question.

the second he said it, your stomach dropped. this can’t be real. you stood there, frozen, heart pounding, every beat louder in your ears. heeseung’s eyes were wild, panicked, and when your expression confirmed the truth he dreaded, he stumbled back like he’d just been hit.

“that wasn’t a dream?” he practically shouted, his voice cracking, the panic raw and undeniable.

you didn’t have words. what the fuck could you even say? you stared at him, mouth open, trying to catch your breath as the weight of everything settled over you both like a goddamn storm.

heeseung’s hands flew to his head, fingers gripping his hair as he muttered to himself, “holy fuck, holy fuck,” over and over again. his eyes were wide with disbelief. “i thought… i thought i fucking dreamt that.”

you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. your throat felt like it was closing up, memories of that night replaying in sharp, excruciating detail. you watched as heeseung flinched, stepping further back from you like you’d just set him on fire. guilt, panic, and something else flickered across his face, thickening the air between you.

he stared at you, voice trembling. “you knew?”

his question felt like a punch to the gut. you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you tried to find something to say. but everything felt stuck. “i… i didn’t…” you stammered, feeling your face burn as the walls closed in on you. “i didn’t think you’d remember.”

heeseung groaned, fingers pulling at his hair as he started pacing, his whole body a bundle of nerves. “holy shit, this is fucking unreal,” he muttered under his breath, voice barely holding together.

he stopped in his tracks, turning to face you with wide, panicked eyes. “so you knew the whole time?” his voice rose, cracking. “you knew and didn’t say anything?”

you blinked, your heart hammering against your ribs, hands trembling as you tried to explain. “i didn’t think you’d remember,” you whispered, voice small.

he let out a frustrated groan, collapsing onto the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. “fuck.”

heeseung looked back up at you, his voice cracking under the weight of everything. “i’m so fucking sorry, but like…” he hesitated, panic clearly building again. “was this whole thing… planned?”

the question slapped you in the face. planned? your mind reeled for a second, trying to catch up. “planned?” you repeated, disbelief bubbling up. “heeseung, no! what the hell? of course not.”

he blinked, still wrecked with guilt, but now his expression wavered, uncertainty creeping in. “so… you weren’t pretending?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. “the tutoring—was that real?”

you sighed, rubbing your temple. oh my god. “professor kang literally told me this morning that you were failing. i didn’t even know until today.”

heeseung blinked at you, still processing, stuck in his daze. then heeseung narrowed his eyes, suspicion flickering across his face. “so you just act like it never happened?” he asked, voice tense. “why?”

the air thickened with tension, your throat tightening. do i really have to explain this?

“because…” you hesitated, looking away. “i didn’t think you’d want to remember it like i wanted to.”

heeseung’s eyes softened, scanning your face, the weight of your words sinking in. realization slowly dawned on him.

“wait,” he said, voice lower now, more serious. "you wanted to? i don't get it.”

your heart skipped a beat, body freezing in place. every muscle tensed up as your mind scrambled. fuck.

there was no turning back now.

you closed the textbook in your hands with a quiet thud, the sound cutting through the thick silence. your heart raced, palms sweaty as you tried to steady your breath.

heeseung’s eyes stayed locked on you, dark and intense, searching your face. the air between you crackled with something electric, something you couldn’t shake. you didn’t want to.

“did you?” he asked again, voice softer this time, almost like he was afraid of what your answer would be. “did you want that night to happen?”

you swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling into your bones. the room felt like it was closing in, every breath getting harder to take. you didn’t want to lie, didn’t want to pretend like it didn’t mean anything. but saying it out loud? confirming it? that was like stepping into something you couldn’t undo.

“i—” your voice cracked, and you looked down at the closed book in your lap, gripping it like it could somehow ground you. “yes,” you whispered, your throat tight. “i wanted it, but i never expected it to... go that far.”

heeseung froze, hyper-focused on you, the rest of the world fading into the background. his eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours like he was seeing you for the first time. and before you knew it, he was moving closer.

his face was inches from yours, so close you could feel his warmth, his breath unsteady. but there was no awkwardness this time, none of that usual nervous energy. he didn’t even seem to realize how close he was, or how this should’ve freaked him out.

he just stared at you, unwavering, like he was trying to see inside your head, trying to understand every word you weren’t saying. his breath hitched, and you could feel the tension between you shift, deepening.

“cause i’ve always…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

heeseung’s breath faltered, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“seen you,” you finished, voice soft but steady, the confession hanging in the air.

he blinked, stunned, disbelief written all over his face. “seen me?” he echoed, like he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around what you’d just said.

you could see it in his face—the insecurity, the doubt. why me? that’s what he was thinking.

you leaned in slightly, meeting his eyes. “i know what you’re thinking, heeseung. you think you’re a loser, right? that’s what you see when you look in the mirror.”

he flinched, the words hitting him square in the chest, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t. the room felt heavier now, the silence deafening.

“but, god,” you breathed, your voice faltering for a second. “i was happy we had that moment, even if you didn’t remember me. i was just… content, heeseung.”

you paused, watching him closely, seeing the way your words settled into him. “you’d probably freak out if you woke up the next morning remembering what happened, so i let it go. i didn’t want it to be complicated.”

heeseung’s voice was barely a whisper, raw and hesitant. “you’re really making it seem like you like me, y/n.”

your heart pounded in your chest, every muscle in your body tight. you swallowed hard, biting your lip before finally speaking.

“seem like?” you said, your voice soft but certain. “heeseung… you think i’d have gone through all of this if i didn��t?”

his breath caught, his eyes wide with shock. it was like he hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“i don’t seem like i like you,” you added, your voice steady now. “i do like you.”

his breath hitched again, his eyes flickering with something intense, something raw. he looked at you, stunned, like he was finally seeing what had been in front of him the whole time.

“i always have,” you admitted, each word bringing a wave of relief. “and at that party… i just wanted to make a good impression. you were drinking by yourself, and—” you paused, a small smile creeping onto your lips, “adorably so.”

heeseung stared at you, his eyes wide, disbelief still lingering, but slowly giving way to something else. the weight between you both was shifting, the tension thickening, but in a different way now.

as the truth settled in, you felt lighter, like you’d been carrying a weight for so long and had finally let it go.

but heeseung didn’t react the way you thought he would. instead, he pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them, staring off to the side like he was anywhere but here with you. he was listening—fuck, you could tell—but he couldn’t look at you. not really. and that hurt more than anything. the silence between you was thick, almost unbearable, your chest tightening with every second that passed.

he was processing it all, you knew that much. but seeing him curled up like that, so small, so fucking vulnerable—it made something in you twist painfully.

“anyway… i’m sorry for not telling you,” you whispered, voice shaking under the weight of guilt that had been sitting on your chest for what felt like forever. “i just… i felt like i took advantage of you.”

he didn’t say shit for a moment, just let out this long, heavy sigh like he’d been holding everything in, and now it was all crashing down on him. his eyes, distant and glazed, started to focus again, and the expression on his face shifted—like all the pieces were finally clicking into place.

“no, y/n,” he muttered, voice low but steady. “i kept you here, didn’t i?”

you blinked, staring at him, trying to make sense of what he was saying, trying to figure out what was going through his mind. the words hung between you, heavy, like the truth of it was sinking into both of you at the same time.

“it’s all coming back now,” heeseung said, sounding a little stronger this time, more certain. “i remember… you were kind. you didn’t have to take me home, but you did. and… you made me feel safe, y/n. i didn’t want you to leave.”

his voice softened then, almost trembling. “i asked you to stay, right? because… you put up with me.”

his head dipped, eyes flickering toward you before quickly looking away again, like facing you was too much. “i even asked you to cuddle me,” he muttered, and you saw him wince, the embarrassment creeping up his neck, turning his ears pink. “god, that was so cringy.”

he rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hide from himself, like the memories were too much to handle. “and then… everything blurred. i couldn’t tell what was real or not.”

his gaze met yours for just a second before dropping again, his voice barely above a whisper. “and you smelled so fucking good,” he admitted, voice cracking. “and… i got horny. like, really fucking horny.”

he buried his face in his hands again, clearly mortified by his own words, his whole body tense, like he was bracing himself for something. his breathing was ragged, the weight of everything crashing down on him all at once.

“i…” he started, voice shaking. he peeked up at you, shame all over his face, red as hell, like he wished he could disappear right then and there. “i even… came inside you, didn’t i?” his voice cracked on the words, the confession spilling out like it was choking him.

heeseung’s eyes finally locked on yours, searching—fuck, maybe he was looking for forgiveness or something—but all you could see was how raw, how broken he was, like he was laying everything bare in front of you. his body was wound tight, waiting, terrified of what you were going to say. the air between you was suffocating, thick with everything that had been left unsaid.

“is… is that why you didn’t want me to find out?” his voice wavered, eyes wide, realization dawning on him all at once. “because… you might be pregnant?” the question hung there, thick and cold, like the air itself had stopped moving. his whole body tensed up, eyes locked on you, fear creeping into his expression. you could see him struggling to breathe, his hands twitching nervously in his lap.

“fuck,” he mumbled, barely loud enough to hear. “could you be pregnant?”

you couldn’t help it. you lost it. the laugh ripped out of you before you could stop it, loud and sudden, shattering the tension like a glass hitting the floor. you were laughing so hard your sides ached, gasping for breath in between fits, the absurdity of the moment too much.

heeseung just sat there, staring at you like you’d lost your mind. his eyes went wide, his face going from confused to embarrassed in seconds, the color rushing to his cheeks. he was frozen, completely clueless.

“what the hell—” he stammered, voice cracking. “what’s so fucking funny?”

you wiped a tear from your eye, still giggling. “oh my god, heeseung,” you gasped, trying to get your breath back. “no! i’m not pregnant. that’s not why i didn’t want you to find out.”

he blinked at you, completely thrown off, like he couldn’t process what you were saying. “wait… what?”

“dude, relax,” you snorted, trying to hold back more laughter. “i’m on the pill. and it’s only been, like, what, not even that long ago?”

heeseung’s face was now burning, his embarrassment practically radiating off him. “oh… uh, right,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes like the plague.

you watched him fidget, clearly still mortified. his fingers kept twitching, his face still bright red. “right… okay,” he mumbled, his voice quieter now, embarrassed as hell. “sorry, i just… fuck, i’m still processing all of this.”

the room fell into an awkward silence again, the laughter dying down. you studied his face, seeing that raw vulnerability creeping back in. softly, you asked, “you’re not mad at me?”

heeseung’s head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. “mad? no! no, y/n, i’m not mad at you at all,” he said quickly, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you’d even ask that. “i just… i don’t know, i was scared. i thought i fucked up or made you feel weird.”

his hand went back to rubbing his neck, that nervous habit of his you were so used to by now. “but no, i could never be mad at you. i just… i wish i remembered sooner.”

your voice softened, quieter now, the laughter completely gone. “and if you had remembered… what would you have done?”

heeseung looked at you, finally starting to relax a little. the tension between you shifted, turning into something more open, more real. it didn’t feel so heavy anymore, and for the first time, it felt like you were both being honest.

he let out a long sigh, his lips twitching into a small, awkward smile. “honestly? probably nothing. i wouldn’t have had the guts.”

you blinked, surprised. “nothing?”

he shrugged, his blush creeping back, but this time it felt… softer, like he was just a little shy. “yeah. i’d have overthought the shit out of it. by the time i figured it out, you’d have moved on, and i’d still be sitting there like an idiot.”

he chuckled, the sound nervous but genuine, scratching his neck again. “guess i’m not really that bold.”

you couldn’t help but smile, warmth creeping into your chest. “you never had to be bold, heeseung,” you said softly. “i like you because you’re you. awkward, cute… and you turn red like a fucking tomato.”

you poked his cheek playfully, and he batted your hand away, grumbling, “stop it, y/n.” but there was a smile on his lips, soft and shy. the tension between you had melted, replaced by something lighter, something that felt easy, like you were finally just… okay.

“actually…” heeseung started, glancing at the scattered study materials before turning back to you, his expression kind of nervous. “oh, sorry, i think i’m taking up too much of your time.”

you shook your head quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. “no, heeseung, i don’t have a curfew. what were you gonna say?”

he shifted in his seat, eyes flickering to the floor as he tried to gather his thoughts. “it’s just… the morning after that night,” he began slowly, his voice a little quieter now. “i woke up, and i could still smell you. your scent was everywhere, but my memory… it was completely blacked out.”

he looked down, clearly embarrassed, like reliving the confusion made him uncomfortable. “i tried piecing it together, but nothing made sense. i thought maybe i dreamt it. but now… now that i remember, it feels like this weight’s been lifted, you know?”

you watched him, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest. he seemed like he was finally making sense of it all, and seeing him find some clarity in the mess of things made you smile. but before you could say anything, a knock on the door interrupted the moment.

heeseung’s mom came in, completely oblivious to the tension lingering in the room. she was all smiles, carrying a tray of snacks like everything was perfectly normal. and the second she walked in, heeseung shot up from his seat, looking so damn stiff and awkward, you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculous he looked.

“oh, no need to stand, sweetheart,” his mom chirped, setting the tray down with a proud grin. “brought you two some snacks. keep up that energy while you study!”

“uh, thanks, mom,” heeseung mumbled, his voice strained, like he was trying so hard not to die of embarrassment.

his mom winked at you, completely missing the vibe in the room. “don’t let him distract you too much, y/n,” she teased before walking back out, leaving the door cracked open.

heeseung sank back into his chair, his face bright red, still not able to look at you. he was so flustered, you could practically feel the secondhand embarrassment rolling off him.

you couldn’t help it—you grinned, leaning back a little, eyebrow raised. “you okay there, heeseung?” you teased, smirking at how frazzled he looked.

“yeah, totally fine,” he squeaked, voice way too high-pitched to sound convincing. “just… didn’t expect her to come in.”

“she’s sweet,” you said, reaching for one of the snacks on the tray. “it’s not a big deal.”

he let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck like it was a reflex. “yeah, she just… can be a little overprotective sometimes.” he finally glanced at you, but you could tell he still wanted to crawl under a rock and disappear.

you chuckled, taking a bite of the cookie. “i think it’s cute. besides, we got snacks out of it, so i’m not complaining.”

he smiled, and for the first time, it actually looked like he was relaxing a bit. there was this softness in his expression now, his guard dropping. “thanks… for not making it weird and for coming back here.”

you paused, surprised by the sincerity in his voice, but then smiled at him warmly. “heeseung, i wouldn’t have come back if i didn’t want to.”

the tension between you both seemed to melt away, the air feeling lighter now, like you could just exist together without all the heavy shit hanging over you. you popped another cookie into your mouth, enjoying the calm after all the earlier intensity.

“so, now that your mom’s gone,” you teased, leaning back in your chair, “you wanna pick up where we left off? or are you too traumatized to continue?”

heeseung shook his head, his smile lingering on his lips. “nah, i’m good now. besides, you’re supposed to be tutoring me. can’t bail on that.”

you laughed softly, trying to hide the grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. “oh, i would never. besides, you’re doing pretty well. maybe i’m not even needed anymore.”

heeseung glanced at you, his expression softening in a way that made your chest feel tight. “nah, i still need you.”

the way he said it—so simple, so honest—caught you completely off guard. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could even process it, he turned back to the snacks, picking one up like he hadn’t just said something that made your entire body feel warm.

for the next week, you found yourself going to heeseung’s house almost every day. each time you walked through that door, it was like a layer of awkwardness between you both peeled away. with every study session, heeseung started to relax, not just with the material but with you. his stuttering wasn’t as bad, and there was this growing confidence in the way he answered your questions. it made you feel proud, seeing him actually believe in himself more.

of course, he was still his awkward self sometimes—blushing like crazy whenever his mom brought in snacks or when you caught him staring for a second too long. there was an ease now, a rhythm, this natural back-and-forth that felt… good.

as the days went on, heeseung began to open up more, not just about school, but about everything else. he told you about his favorite music, the stupid shit his friends did, even embarrassing moments that made him groan but that he still shared with you anyway. it felt like you were getting to know him all over again, piece by piece, like he was finally letting you see the parts of him no one else got to.

you were both hunched over the desk, working through equations when the door suddenly burst open, slamming against the wall. you both jumped, startled, as jay barged in with his usual loud energy and a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

“yo, heeseung!” jay’s eyes flicked between the two of you, then settled on a teasing smirk. “oh, shit. am i interrupting something?”

heeseung shot up from his chair, his entire face turning bright red. “jay, what the hell, man?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

jay completely ignored him, his grin only widening as he stepped further into the room like he owned the place. “so this is what you’ve been up to, huh? no wonder you’ve been ditching us all week.” his eyes shifted to you, mischief sparkling in them. “studying, huh? real convincing.”

you rolled your eyes, biting back a laugh at how flustered heeseung looked. “we’re literally going over formulas, jay,” you said, holding up your notebook as proof.

jay leaned casually against the doorframe, that playful smirk still on his lips. “yeah, yeah, formulas,” he teased, but there wasn’t any bite in his tone. “so… is that a no to valorant?”

heeseung looked like he was tempted, his posture shifting as he considered jay’s offer. you couldn’t help but chuckle softly—heeseung had been working his ass off. he deserved a break. “hey, it’s fine,” you said, closing your notebook and packing up your things. “you’ve earned it. we can pick this up another day.”

heeseung shot you a grateful smile, clearly relieved. “thanks, i’ll finish the assignments, i promise.” there was sincerity in his voice, and you knew he meant it, but before he could say anything else, jay cut in with his usual easy grin.

“thanks for not hogging him, y/n. i was starting to think he’d forgotten about me,” jay joked, nudging heeseung playfully.

you laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “heeseung’s been doing great. you’d be surprised how much he knows, jay.”

heeseung’s cheeks flushed again, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was embarrassed. “jay, come on…”

“what?” jay grinned, throwing an arm around heeseung’s shoulders. “i’m just saying, it’s good to see my buddy killing it. but seriously, y/n, thanks for helping him out.”

you smiled warmly at heeseung, feeling proud of how far he’d come. “see you tomorrow, heeseung. don’t forget to review what we went over, okay?”

heeseung nodded, his voice soft but filled with appreciation. “yeah, i will.” his gaze lingered on you for a second longer, a flicker of admiration in his eyes before jay gave him a light shove toward the door, both of them grinning as you waved goodbye.

as soon as the door clicked shut, jay turned to heeseung with a shit-eating grin, barely holding back laughter. “thanks, i’ll finish the assignments, i promise,” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, dripping with sarcasm. “you’ve got it bad, man.”

heeseung groaned, running a hand through his hair, cheeks still flushed from embarrassment. “shut the hell up,” he muttered, though the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

“nah, seriously though,” jay continued, nudging him with his elbow, his grin widening. “you’ve got heart eyes for her, bro. i’ve never seen you like this.”

heeseung buried his face in his hands, groaning louder. “i’m gonna kill you.”

jay, clearly enjoying himself way too much, flopped onto the bed with zero regard for heeseung’s sanity. “so, what’s the deal, man? y’all have been ‘studying’ for, like, days now. spill it.”

heeseung, looking completely mortified, muttered, “jay, get out.”

“nah, i’m good,” jay shot back, smirking. “come on, just ask her out already. what’s the worst that could happen?”

heeseung avoided his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. “it’s not that simple.”

jay groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. “bro, it is that simple. she likes you too. it’s so fucking obvious.”

heeseung’s face went a deeper shade of red. “you think?”

jay scoffed. “dude, she’s been coming over for a week straight. you really think it’s just for the tutoring?”

heeseung hesitated, then quietly muttered, “well… she did say she liked me.”

jay’s eyes went wide, and then he burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “wait, what? she said she liked you? and you’ve just been sitting on that info like an idiot?”

heeseung cringed, feeling more and more like a complete idiot by the second. “yeah… and, uh… we hooked up,” he added, barely above a whisper.

jay’s laughter came to an abrupt stop. his jaw dropped. “what the fuck? you hooked up with her?”

heeseung nodded, wincing at the memory. “yeah…”

jay was practically vibrating with excitement, eyes wide. “oh my god, heeseung finally fucking did it! you didn’t dream it? it actually happened?”

heeseung groaned, rubbing his temples like he could erase the embarrassment. “it’s real, jay. it happened.”

jay collapsed back onto the bed, laughing hysterically. “holy shit. but—how did it go down?”

heeseung shifted awkwardly, his voice dropping to a mumble. “i, uh… came too soon.”

jay’s laughter died instantly, replaced by a choking noise. “what?” he stared at heeseung in disbelief. “you came early?”

heeseung winced, face burning with shame. “i was drunk, man… it just happened.”

jay shook his head, smacking his forehead dramatically. “dude, you had one shot, and that’s how it went down?”

heeseung groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “trust me, i know.”

jay just stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief before smacking heeseung’s arm. “so, what now? you’re just gonna sit here, do nothing, and keep pretending like she’s just your tutor?”

heeseung blinked, caught off guard. “uh… yeah?”

jay groaned louder, throwing his hands in the air. “you’re killing me, dude. she likes you, you like her, you’ve already hooked up, and you’re doing nothing?”

heeseung shrugged, clearly conflicted. “i don’t know, man. i’m not good at this shit. what if i mess it up?”

“you already messed it up,” jay teased, though his smile softened a little. “and she’s still coming over. what’s stopping you?”

heeseung bit his lip, hesitation clear in his expression. “but… what if she’s just being nice?”

jay rolled his eyes so hard you’d think they’d get stuck. “she’s not just being nice, dude. stop overthinking this.”

heeseung sighed, finally giving in. “fine, i’ll ask her. but if it gets weird, i’m blaming you.”

jay grinned wide, slapping his back. “trust me, she’s not going anywhere.”

but even with jay’s pep talks, heeseung still couldn’t bring himself to ask you out. every time he tried, the words got stuck in his throat, and he convinced himself that staying quiet was safer. he didn’t want to ruin whatever the hell you two had going on—whatever this was.

so he settled.

you were still coming over, still sitting beside him during these study sessions that had long turned into just excuses to hang out. you didn’t seem to mind, and truthfully, neither did he. there was a comfort in the way you both just were. heeseung stole a glance at you while you were focused on your notebook, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. every time he thought about asking you out, that fear crept back in. so for now, this would have to be enough.

“by the way,” your voice cut through the haze of heeseung’s thoughts, snapping him back to reality. he blinked, focusing on you as you kept going. “i won’t be able to come over tomorrow.” his stomach dropped instantly, but he tried to act casual, even though he could already feel himself missing you. “oh, really? why not?” he asked, his voice light, like it didn’t bother him at all. “my childhood friend, jake, is coming back, and i’m picking him up from the airport,” you explained, smiling easily. jake? childhood friend? the name hit him like a punch in the gut, and his mind started spinning. “oh… jake, huh?” he repeated, forcing the words out, trying to keep the unease out of his voice.

“yeah, we haven’t seen each other in years,” you said, completely unaware of the storm brewing inside him. “we’re just gonna catch up and hang out.” heeseung nodded, forcing a smile that felt way too tight. “sounds cool.” his mind, though, was screaming who the fuck is jake? the thought of you spending time with some other guy—a friend you clearly cared about—made his chest tighten. he didn’t want to feel jealous, but it crept in anyway. he cleared his throat, trying to play it cool, but the words came out too forced. “so, uh… jake?” you glanced at him, noticing the slight frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. you raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching into an amused smile. is he seriously jealous? “yeah, we’re pretty close,” you said, watching him carefully, finding his reaction kind of adorable. “he’s like a brother to me. we grew up together.”

heeseung nodded again, but his expression stayed stiff, that faint frown deepening. “right. like a brother.” it sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than you.

you bit your lip, holding back a laugh. the way he was squirming was too cute. “heeseung… are you jealous?” you teased, your voice playful as you watched him struggle to keep his cool. his eyes widened, and he straightened up in his seat, clearly caught off guard. “what? no, i’m not jealous!” he blurted out, his voice way too high-pitched to sound convincing. “why would i be jealous? it’s just… jake.” you couldn’t help but laugh at how flustered he was getting. it only made you like him more. he actually cared. “i think you two would get along,” you said, enjoying his discomfort just a little too much. “he loves gaming, like you and jay. i’m sure you guys would hit it off.” heeseung blinked, trying to process what you just said, but the mention of jake still had him thrown. “fit in with us?” he repeated, his voice hesitant. “he’s a gamer too?”

“yeah, he’s obsessed with valorant,” you grinned. “you guys would probably end up playing for hours if you met.”

heeseung shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the jealousy still eating at him. “sounds… cool, i guess,” he mumbled, trying not to let his frown take over. “so… he’s just a friend, right?” you laughed, shaking your head at how obvious he was being. “yeah, just a friend, heeseung.” he hesitated for a second, his voice dropping to a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear. “have you kissed him?” your eyes widened at the sudden question, but you quickly recovered, fake gagging in response. “no way! it’s not like that,” you said, laughing. “he’s like family.” heeseung’s entire body relaxed, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. “oh… okay, good,” he mumbled, his tone sheepish but relieved. you grinned at him, leaning in a little closer, enjoying how easily he got flustered. “were you really that worried?” heeseung’s blush deepened as he rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. “i don’t know,” he muttered, his eyes flicking nervously to your lips. “just… had to be sure.” “why?” you pushed, raising an eyebrow as you leaned in just a little more, watching him squirm. “does it make you feel better that i kissed you and not jake?”

heeseung froze, his entire face turning a deep shade of red. his eyes widened in panic, like he was scrambling for something to say but had nothing. “i—I mean, yeah, maybe a little?” he stammered, clearly flustered and caught off guard. you smiled wider, seeing how easily he unraveled around you. “so it matters?” you teased, not letting up. he bit his lip, looking like he wanted to crawl under a rock. “well… yeah,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “it matters because… i like you.” the confession hit you like a truck, and you quickly lifted your notebook to shield your face, trying to hide the way your cheeks burned. heeseung just said he liked you, and your heart felt like it was about to burst. “oh right… i never actually told you,” heeseung mumbled, suddenly realizing the weight of his words. just as you lowered your notebook to respond, the door slammed open, and the moment was shattered. “dad, seriously?” heeseung groaned, rubbing his temples as his dad burst into the room, completely oblivious to the situation. “let’s celebrate!” his dad shouted, grinning like it was the best idea ever, with his mom trailing right behind him, bottles and glasses in hand like they were about to throw a full-blown party. you and heeseung both stared at them, caught off guard. “what?” “just saw your grades, kid! you passed everything! we’re celebrating!” his dad announced, shaking the bottles with excitement. “y/n, you’re joining us too!” his mom added, extending a glass toward you. you exchanged a quick look with heeseung, both of you in shock, trying to process what was happening. heeseung let out a defeated sigh, clearly resigned to his fate. “yeah, sure… why not.” you couldn’t help but giggle, nudging him playfully. “guess we’re celebrating, then.” his dad raised a bottle triumphantly. “i called your mom, y/n,” he said, flashing a proud grin. “she said you could stay the night!”

both you and heeseung instantly turned bright red, whipping your heads toward each other in disbelief. “what?” you said in unison. “yup!” his mom chimed in, completely unfazed. “figured it’d be fun. besides, you two have been spending so much time together, it just made sense.” heeseung groaned, sinking further into his chair, clearly mortified. “dad, you can’t just… do that.” your cheeks flushed even more, completely thrown by how casually they planned it. “uh… if it’s really okay…”

heeseung peeked through his fingers, still looking like he wanted to disappear. “yeah… if that’s what you want.”

you laughed awkwardly. “well… looks like we’re having a sleepover.” “but she’s a girl!” heeseung blurted out, clearly panicking. “well, isn’t she your girlfriend?” his dad asked, like it was the most casual thing in the world. both you and heeseung froze, turning an even deeper shade of red. “what? no!” you shouted at the same time, the words tumbling out in unison. his mom chuckled, clearly amused by how flustered you both were. “oh, come on, you two are practically inseparable.” heeseung groaned again, burying his face in his hands. “mom, it’s not like that!” you cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “yeah, we’re just… friends,” you said, though the word��friends felt strange given everything that had happened. his parents exchanged a knowing glance but thankfully didn’t push it. his dad waved his hand dismissively. “well, either way, it’s settled! y/n’s staying, and we’re celebrating!”

before either of you could argue, his mom was already clearing away the textbooks, setting down the bottles and glasses like they’d planned it all out. heeseung groaned again, muttering into his hands. “this is a nightmare.” you giggled, nudging him gently. “looks like we’re having a party.” “please kill me,” he muttered, but you could see the hint of a smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. your eyes flickered toward the bottles of alcohol on the table. “looks like they want us wrecked,” you mumbled. heeseung peeked out from behind his hands, glancing at the alcohol. “they’re trying to ruin my life,” he grumbled. you laughed, picking up one of the bottles. “well, we could always just… go with it. celebrate your grades, make a night of it.” heeseung raised an eyebrow, still hesitant but clearly tempted. “you wanna get wrecked with me?” “why not?” you grinned, pouring a small shot. “might make things less awkward.” he let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “yeah, well… anything’s better than this.” he grabbed a glass, finally giving in. “let’s just hope my parents don’t come back.” “why? you planning something?” you teased, watching him fumble with the bottle. heeseung froze for a second, eyes wide before quickly pouring the drink, mumbling, “n-no, I just… thought it’d help loosen things up.” you laughed, thoroughly enjoying how flustered he was getting. “i’m not gonna bite, heeseung.” he handed you a glass, managing a shy smile. “yeah, well… i might need a few of these to survive tonight.” he raised his glass with a grin. you raised yours, smirking as you clinked it against his. “here’s to surviving tonight.” heeseung downed his shot too fast, immediately coughing from the burn. “shit,” he muttered, wiping his mouth.

you shook your head, laughing at him. “lightweight.“ “hey!” he protested, pouring another shot, clearly determined to redeem himself. “i can handle it.”

you took a sip of your drink, the heat crawling down your throat as you leaned in, a grin teasing your lips. "so, heeseung,” you started, your voice light, playful. “what’s the wildest thing you’ve ever done? i bet there’s a troublemaker hiding in there somewhere.”

heeseung blinked, clearly thrown off by the question. “wildest thing?” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was actually trying to come up with something. “uh… does passing out drunk at a party and making you carry me home count?”

you shook your head, grinning wider. “nah, that’s just you being a dumbass.”

he laughed, the sound a little looser now as he leaned back in his chair. the alcohol was starting to settle into him, easing the tension in his shoulders. “okay, okay. i’ve done some dumb shit with jay, but nothing… wild. not like you’re thinking.” “really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “not even a single scandalous high school moment? i’m disappointed.” he snorted, shaking his head. “if you’re looking for scandalous, you’re barking up the wrong tree. i’m awkward as hell. you know that.” you leaned in a little more, closing the space between you just enough to make him shift in his seat. “yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t surprise me,” you said, your voice dipping low, teasing, with something heavier lingering beneath it. the atmosphere shifted, the air thickening as you hovered closer. heeseung swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to your lips before darting away again, his nerves clear as day. “i can be full of surprises,” he mumbled, though his tone wobbled, like he wasn’t sure if he believed it himself. “oh yeah?” you leaned back, pretending to think it over, enjoying the way he squirmed. “like what?”

heeseung grabbed his shot glass and downed it like he needed it to survive, the alcohol clearly giving him the little boost of courage he was looking for. “well, i’m here, aren’t i? with you. that’s gotta count for something,” he said, trying to sound casual, but the way his voice wavered gave him away. the nerves were still there, bubbling just under the surface. you chuckled softly, your eyes holding his. “yeah, i guess it does,” you murmured, your words carrying more weight than before, something unspoken, something just on the edge of everything you weren’t saying. the conversation kept going after that, but the energy between you two had changed. it was lighter, more comfortable, the tension from before still there but softened. you laughed together, swapping embarrassing stories and favorite movies, the topics flowing easily. but every now and then, you’d catch him staring a little too long, or feel the brush of his knee against yours under the table, and each small touch sent sparks buzzing across your skin. heeseung fiddled with the empty glass in front of him, his voice dropping, more hesitant. “you know, you’re… different than i expected.” you tilted your head, heart picking up pace. “oh yeah? what’d you expect?” his eyes stayed on the glass, thumb tracing along the rim as he shrugged. “i don’t know… i guess i didn’t expect to feel like this.” “like how?” you leaned in slightly, your curiosity spiking, the tension between you building, thick with something unspoken. heeseung inhaled deeply, lips curling into a small, awkward smile. “honestly? i thought i’d never have a girl interested in me. they’re usually, uh… repulsed.” you blinked, his bluntness catching you off guard. “repulsed? heeseung, you’re not repulsive,” you leaned closer, your words carrying more weight. “awkward, maybe, but in a cute way.”

he let out a short, self-deprecating laugh, shaking his head. “nah, you don’t get it. i’ve had girls literally avoid me. so when you stuck around? i didn’t know what to do.” “well, i’m still here, aren’t i?” your voice softened, leaning in even more. “and i’m definitely not repulsed.” heeseung’s eyes met yours, his face flushing deeper as he tried to process your words. “yeah… i guess you’re different,” he mumbled, voice shaky, like he didn’t fully believe it. you leaned in, your knee brushing against his under the table, the contact sending sparks up your spine. “i don’t think you give yourself enough credit, heeseung. the only person getting in your way… is you.”

heeseung swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to your lips, lingering for just a moment before darting away. “fuck,” he muttered, barely audible. “why do you even like me? i feel like i’m gonna mess this up any second.” you smiled softly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “maybe that’s why i like you. you’re real. awkward, messy, but real.” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly flustered, muttering under his breath, “and a guy who came in, like… seconds.” you bit your lip, trying not to laugh as a flush crept up your neck. “yeah,” you leaned in, your voice teasing, a little bolder. “but i didn’t mind.” heeseung’s eyes widened, snapping to yours, shock and disbelief written all over his face. “you didn’t?” you shook your head, your hand brushing against his lightly. “nope.” you held his gaze, watching him swallow, his breath catching, the tension between you rising. heeseung’s voice came out barely more than a whisper, breath shaky. “i thought you’d hate me for that.” “if i hated you, i wouldn’t be here,” you said softly, your fingers lingering against his. “and i definitely wouldn’t still be thinking about it.” heeseung’s eyes darted down to your hand, then back up to meet your gaze. his lips parted slightly, his breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “fuck,” he whispered, the tension in his voice obvious. “i’ve been thinking about it too… a lot.” he shifted, grabbing a pillow to cover the growing bulge in his pants, trying to hide it, but failing miserably. “damn, y/n,” he muttered, torn between embarrassment and the arousal coursing through him. “this again?” you teased, leaning in with a smirk. “gonna jerk off to me in the bathroom again?” heeseung froze, eyes wide as realization hit him like a ton of bricks. “wait… you knew?” his voice cracked as he sat up, completely caught off guard.

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “oh yeah, i knew. you weren’t exactly subtle, heeseung. these walls are thin.” heeseung groaned, burying his face in his hands, the pillow slipping from his lap as he practically melted into his chair. “oh my fucking god,” he muttered, voice muffled by his hands. “this is so embarrassing.” “hey, no judgment,” you said, your amusement barely contained. “it’s kinda flattering, honestly.” he peeked through his fingers, still horrified but curious. “flattering?” you nodded, your grin widening. “yeah. at least i know i have that kind of effect on you.” heeseung groaned again, slumping further into the chair, torn between wanting to disappear and being completely turned on. “fuck, y/n…” he muttered, his voice strained with frustration. “i’m starting to think you’re a liar. 'cause it’s like you never get as flustered as i do. shy, yeah, sure… but do i even make you wet?” his voice came out breathless, desperate, searching for reassurance.

the boldness of his question hung in the air between you, thick and heavy with anticipation. your heart raced, your lips parting as you considered your answer.

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by how bold he’d gotten, but the smirk on your lips couldn’t be stopped. “oh, you really wanna know?” you teased, eyes locking with his.

heeseung’s breath caught, but he nodded, his face turning redder by the second, gaze not leaving yours. “yeah,” he whispered, voice so soft you almost didn’t catch it. “i need to know.”

leaning in close, you brushed your lips against his ear, letting your breath ghost over his skin, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “well, let’s just say…” you paused, savoring the moment, then pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes again, your voice dropping low, “i’ve been wetter than i care to admit this whole time.”

his eyes widened, his breath catching, the weight of your words hitting him hard. “fuck,” he groaned, running a shaky hand through his hair, clearly torn between excitement and embarrassment. “why are you so good at this?”

“i’m not,” you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing heat. “i just don’t have a dick to give me away when i’m turned on.”

heeseung let out a breathy laugh, the tension in his body spilling over, but the flush on his cheeks remained. “fuck,” he muttered again, shifting awkwardly, the pillow doing absolutely nothing to hide the obvious. “that’s so unfair,” he whined, his frustration clear in the way he fidgeted. “you just sit there all calm, and i’m over here losing my mind.”

you leaned back, the smirk never leaving your lips. “why don’t we drink a bit more then?” you suggested, your tone playful but laced with challenge, watching the way he struggled under your gaze.

heeseung swallowed hard, clearly debating whether alcohol would help or push him deeper into the mess. “yeah, maybe…” he muttered, his hands trembling as he reached for the bottle again. “fuck, i need to calm down.”

you chuckled softly, amused by how flustered he was. “take it easy,” you teased, raising your glass. “you’re making this way too fun.”

heeseung groaned, downing his shot far too quickly, wincing as it hit his throat. “fun for you, maybe,” he mumbled, setting the glass down with a shaky hand, his face still flushed with heat.

you threw back your own drink, feeling the burn in your chest, but what really made your pulse race was the way he was looking at you now—his wide eyes, the way his lips parted like he was struggling to breathe, that growing desperation in the air between you both. “heeseung?” you whispered, voice trembling with the warmth of the alcohol and the intensity of his gaze. he blinked, like he was trying to snap out of it, but his eyes stayed glued to yours. “god,” he muttered, voice strained like he was barely holding it together. “you’re making it so hard to think straight.” you bit your lip, and his breath hitched, his chest rising and falling in these shaky, uneven breaths. “don’t do that, please,” he practically begged, his voice laced with desperation, eyes squeezing shut as his head fell back, neck exposed, tension radiating off him like heat. “don’t do what?” you whispered, voice soft, fingers tracing slow, teasing circles on his thigh. you pushed the pillow out of the way, and the second your hand made contact, heeseung gasped, the breath in his throat trembling like he was on the verge of falling apart.

“that,” he rasped, his body trembling under your touch, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. you leaned in closer, your hand drifting higher, watching him unravel beneath your fingers. “i thought you wanted this,” you teased, your lips brushing lightly against his ear. heeseung’s eyes fluttered open, staring at you with this raw mix of desire and desperation. “i do… but you’re driving me fucking crazy,” he whispered, his voice thick with need. “i can’t handle it… not when you’re this close.” “then touch me,” you whispered, voice dripping with temptation, the tension between you suffocating. “don’t you want to?” heeseung’s eyes shot open, wide, filled with disbelief. “can i?” he asked, voice shaky, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to. “you really want me to?” you nodded slowly, your breath grazing his lips, every part of you buzzing with anticipation. “yes, heeseung… i want you to.”

for a second, he hesitated, but then his hands, trembling, finally made contact, resting on your waist, tentative and careful like he was scared he might break you. “fuck,” he whispered again, fingers tightening on your hips as he pulled you closer, his voice cracking with disbelief. “i can’t believe this is happening.” “what if i cum just from touching you?” he muttered, nervous excitement all over his face, his hands still shaking slightly as they gripped your waist harder. you didn’t even answer, just straddled him, thighs pressing down on either side of his hips, and the second your lips crashed against his, it was like all of his control snapped. heeseung’s arms wrapped tight around you, pulling you against him like he couldn’t get close enough. his kiss was hot, needy, filled with every ounce of tension that had been simmering between you both. instinctively, your hips ground against him, and both of you groaned at the sensation. he broke the kiss, lips trailing down your neck, hot and messy, his breath burning against your skin as he groaned, hips pushing up into yours, hands gripping your waist like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. and then, in one quick move, he lifted you up like you weighed nothing, placing you down onto the bed. the sudden shift made your heart race, excitement thrumming through your veins as he hovered over you, eyes dark and wild with need. but then, just as fast as it started, you saw the hesitation flicker across his face again, that shy, unsure side of him slipping back. his hands hovered just above your body, trembling all over again. “wait, y/n…” he whispered, voice shaking. “i don’t wanna mess this up.” “heeseung…” you whispered, your voice soft as your hands cupped his face, pulling him in close. “you’re not messing anything up. i want this. i want you.” heeseung swallowed hard, eyes locked on yours as if he was trying to process the reality of what you just said. “you’re sure?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, like he still couldn’t believe this was happening. “i’ve never been more sure,” you reassured him, pulling him even closer, your lips brushing against his. he hesitated for a second, breath shaky as he stared at you, then slowly started fumbling with his shirt, his hands trembling. even as he undressed, his eyes never left yours, like he was afraid to break the connection. the intensity in his gaze, even though you were still fully clothed, sent shivers racing up your spine.

when his shirt finally hit the floor, revealing his toned chest, he froze, hovering above you like he didn’t know what to do next. his hands trembled, barely grazing your skin, unsure and nervous. “heeseung,” you whispered again, gentle but insistent, urging him forward. “it’s okay… come here.” “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against your neck, his voice thick with need as his lips pressed hot kisses along your skin. his grip on your hips tightened, and you could feel the slight tremble in his hands, his restraint barely holding. “can i take it off?” heeseung’s voice shook with desire as his fingers hovered at the hem of your shirt. the question hung in the air, thick with anticipation. you nodded, giving him the green light, and he wasted no time, peeling your clothes off piece by piece, his breath catching in his throat with every inch of skin revealed. his eyes were dark and hungry, devouring your body. “fuck…” he muttered, voice thick and almost breathless, his fingers grazing your waist, trailing up to your ribs.

“i’ve imagined this…” he confessed, his voice raw and rough, his hands trembling as he unclasped your bra. his eyes locked onto your chest, pupils blown wide as he whispered, “and fuck, you’re even better than i imagined.” his lips trailed lower, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down your chest, his hands wandering down until his fingers found the waistband of your pants. “i need to see all of you,” he whispered, his breath shaky as he slowly tugged your pants and panties down. the way his gaze devoured you made your pulse quicken. once you were completely bare beneath him, heeseung paused, taking in the sight of you with a mix of awe and disbelief. “wow…” he whispered, his fingers trailing up your thigh, the touch light but electric. “you’re perfect.” he settled between your legs, his breath shaky as he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to your core. “god, y/n…” he groaned, fingers gripping your hips as his nose brushed against your heat. “it’s so pretty… and wet,” he muttered, almost to himself, before dipping his head down and dragging his tongue over your folds. the groan that escaped him was pure need as his lips wrapped around your clit, swirling his tongue in slow, messy circles. "you taste amazing,” he moaned against you, the vibration of his voice sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. he was uncoordinated, his movements sloppy and inexperienced, but the raw hunger driving him made up for it. your hips bucked involuntarily, his groans muffled as he buried himself deeper between your thighs, sucking and licking with frantic desperation.

“heeseung,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging him closer as your body arched beneath him. his fingers found your breasts, squeezing with nervous eagerness.

he whimpered against your pussy, his desperation evident in every flick of his tongue. “i want more,” he groaned, voice strained as he latched onto your clit, sucking harder, his movements growing frantic.

“heeseung…” you moaned, your body shaking with the intensity of it all, your legs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release. “fuck, you’re perfect.”

he lifted his head, lips glistening with your arousal, eyes wide and uncertain as he asked, “do you like it? am i doing good?”

your heart swelled at his words, at the vulnerability mingled with his overwhelming need to please you. “yes, heeseung… fuck, yes,” you breathed, fingers tightening in his hair. “you’re doing so good. i love it.”

his face lit up at your praise, a small, satisfied smile tugging at his lips before he dove back in with renewed determination. his fingers fumbled at your entrance, sliding inside you, hesitant but eager, trying to mimic what he’d seen in porn. his movements were clumsy, but the desperation in each thrust, in every flick of his tongue, was enough to push you closer to the edge.

his fingers pumped in and out, curling inside you as his mouth worked messily over your clit, his body trembling with the effort to make you cum. every whimper, every shaky breath only added to the tension building in your body, sending you spiraling higher and higher.

“heeseung… don’t stop,” you gasped, your voice breathless, pleading. “please—don’t stop.”

“shit, i’m making you cum, aren’t i?” he whimpered against your core, his voice shaky with anticipation. “it's so warm...”

and with one more thrust of his fingers, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, pulling you under. your hips bucked, thighs squeezing around his head as you cried out his name. heeseung moaned against your clit, the sound vibrating through you as he worked his fingers inside you, prolonging the pleasure as long as he could.

“fuck, y/n… you’re so hot,” he groaned, his voice thick with awe as he watched your body writhe beneath him. "so fucking pretty when you cum…”

heeseung’s face was flushed, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “did i do good?” he whispered, voice trembling with the weight of everything that just happened. his hips kept grinding against the mattress, searching for some kind of relief, his cock straining painfully against his pants. the sight of him so worked up, so needy, had you biting your lip to keep from giving in too quickly. “you turn me on so much…” heeseung’s voice cracked, overwhelmed by the sight of you. he was a mess, nearly shaking as his need for you grew stronger, and the lust was becoming unbearable. he's so fucking horny. “please, y/n… i need to be inside you,” he begged, his voice raw with emotion. “i can’t… i need you.” but instead of giving him what he wanted, you leaned down, your breath hot against his ear, and whispered, “not yet.” heeseung froze, wide-eyed, panic flashing in his expression as he tried to process what you said. his breathing got shallow, and he almost looked like he was about to break, but before he could speak, you grabbed him by the face and kissed him hard, hot, and breathless. it left him gasping, his hands trembling as they clawed at your waist, desperate to feel you, to have you.

“shit, i can taste myself on you,” you murmured against his lips, and the sound of your voice alone made him moan. His hands gripped you tighter, but every touch felt like it was pushing him closer to the edge, like he was going to lose control at any second. “i thought you—” he tried to say, voice barely holding together.

you cut him off, flipping him onto his back with one swift move, leaving him stunned beneath you, his breath coming in sharp gasps. The way you moved over him, the way your lips trailed down his chest, sent shivers up his spine. “wait,” he pleaded, his hands fisting the sheets as your lips grazed his skin, leaving a burning trail in their wake. “god, if i wasn’t so wasted that first time… it would’ve felt this good.” you smiled against his skin, your tongue tracing a line along his waist as your fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants. heeseung gasped, body tensing in anticipation, completely at your mercy. “i want it to feel better than you ever imagined,” you teased, slowly pulling his pants down. when his cock sprang free, hard and leaking, you hummed in satisfaction, eyes locking onto his as you leaned in, dragging your tongue up from the base to the tip.

heeseung let out a loud, desperate moan, his back arching off the bed. “fuck… oh my god,” he cried out, his voice cracking as pleasure hit him like a tidal wave. “this feels—” he couldn’t finish, his words dissolving into incoherent sounds as you swirled your tongue around the tip, tasting his precum. every flick of your tongue had him trembling, his breath coming out in ragged gasps, his hips jerking up into your mouth uncontrollably. “more,” heeseung begged, voice barely a whisper, body shaking with need. his desperation was clear in the way his fingers tangled in your hair, gripping tight but not pushing—like he was too afraid to break the moment, even though he needed you so badly. you took him deeper, inch by inch, savoring the way he bucked underneath you, his moans turning louder, more frantic. heeseung’s jaw went slack, his head thrashing back into the pillow as he clenched his eyes shut, trying to hold on but clearly losing the battle. “y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking, raw with need. “how are you—oh my god, this is insane.” his breathing became erratic, his hands fisting the sheets as the pleasure built inside him, spiraling out of control. you could feel him tense, his entire body shaking as the tension mounted higher and higher.

“oh fuck, fuck… i can’t—” he panted, panic edging into his voice as the intensity threatened to overwhelm him. “wait, s-slow down… what if i can’t get hard again—”

but that wasn’t enough to stop you. you took him deeper, your hand stroking him in time with your mouth, driving him closer to the edge with every motion. his moans turned into ragged, broken sounds, his hips bucking up into your mouth despite himself.

“ah, y/n—” heeseung gasped, the tension inside him snapping all at once. his entire body seized, his hands gripping the sheets so tight his knuckles turned white. with one final thrust, he came hard, spilling into your mouth with a loud, desperate moan that echoed through the room. his voice was raw and unrestrained, his mind blank from the sheer intensity of it all.

as he finally looked down, he saw you still between his legs, your lips hovering close to his still-twitching cock. then he heard it—the soft sound of you swallowing, gulping down everything he’d just given you.

“no fucking way,” heeseung whimpered, wide-eyed, voice trembling with disbelief as you licked along his still-sensitive length, your tongue teasing him in slow, deliberate strokes. every touch sent jolts of electricity through his already overstimulated body, but despite it all, his cock stayed hard, throbbing under your attention.

you raised an eyebrow, that playful smirk pulling at your lips as you glanced up at him. “oh? still hard from that?” your fingers wrapped around him, stroking his cock lightly as you spoke.

heeseung’s head dropped back onto the pillow, his hands fisting the sheets. “i-i shouldn’t be… i don’t even know what’s happening,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure and exhaustion. “but fuck, y/n… that was—holy fuck.”

his breath hitched as you moved, straddling him with an ease and boldness that left him completely wrecked. “don’t tell me you’re gonna— you’re killing me,” he muttered, chest heaving, trying to sit up, his hands reaching for you. but before he could get a grip on anything, you had his wrists pinned down above his head, your hips hovering just above his throbbing length.

“shh…” you whispered against his ear, your voice soft but demanding. “let me take care of you.”

heeseung whimpered, eyes wide and filled with lust and disbelief, completely at your mercy.

“but i… fuck, i want this so bad,” he whined, voice cracking, body practically vibrating with need. “i want you to ride me, but i also want to…”

you silenced him with the smallest movement, pressing your hips down just enough to have him gasping. “you’ve done enough,” you whispered, lips brushing against his ear, making him shiver. “now it’s my turn.”

heeseung’s body tensed under you, his head pressing into the pillow as he watched you take control, watched you slowly lower yourself onto him. “wait…” he gasped, feeling the way your warmth enveloped him, the sensation hitting him all at once.

you rode him slow at first, deliberate in every motion, your body grinding against him with an intensity that had him completely undone. “just like that, please,” heeseung whimpered, voice trembling as he sniffled, overwhelmed.

his hands clenched into fists above him, pinned down by your grip, his hips bucking up to meet your movements, trying desperately to keep up. every squeeze of your warmth around him, every roll of your hips, sent shockwaves through his entire body, his cock pulsing, threatening to push him over the edge again.

“not so fast… y/n,” heeseung begged, his voice breaking, glassy eyes filled with desperation. “your pussy… fuck, it’s so tight—i don’t think i’m gonna last—shit,” he panted, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“am i still making you feel good?” he whimpered, the need for reassurance thick in his voice. “i wanna make you cum…” his words wobbled, dripping with pride and vulnerability, desperate for your approval.

your moans answered him first, loud and unrestrained, and even though that was enough for him, he needed more. he needed to hear it straight from your lips. driven by the sound of you coming undone, he bucked his hips harder, faster, trying to match the rhythm you set, every roll of your hips pushing him deeper.

“you look so good… i love this… fuck, i love you,” heeseung choked out, barely coherent as the words tumbled from his lips. his hips jerked beneath you, wild with desperation, his breath ragged, voice broken. "i love fucking you… you're so wet, make my cock feel so good—" he babbled, eyes half-lidded, entirely mesmerized by the way you moved, by the pleasure consuming both of you.

“i love you,” heeseung repeated, voice raw, thick with emotion. his hands twitched, still pinned down by your grip, desperate to touch you, to pull you closer as his love and need for you flooded every inch of him.

the way you bounced on him, making sure he fucked you deep with every thrust, had heeseung completely shattered. every moan slipping from your lips was like a hit straight to his sanity, and the tight, wet grip of your pussy clenching around him had his vision blurring, his mind spiraling. “fuck, i’m so close—please, please let me cum in your pussy,” he begged, voice trembling, the desperation in every word clear. “i wanna see it spill out of you.”

you leaned down, your breath hot against his ear, sending a shiver through him. “oh yeah? how bad do you want it?” your words teased, but they hit him like a punch, and he locked eyes with you, pleading silently, needing you to take him over the edge, needing you to give him the release he craved.

“so bad… please, it’s all i want—fuck, please!” he sobbed, voice cracking as his hips bucked uncontrollably, his body convulsing beneath you. pleasure and need swirled inside him, almost unbearable, and you still didn’t let up. each roll of your hips, each slow grind, was torture, dragging him right to the brink, his hands flexing, desperate to hold on, desperate for you.

“i’ll even—” he gasped, his chest heaving, “fuck—i’ll eat it out of you, eat my cum out of your pussy once i’m done,” the words tumbling out in a breathless moan as his head fell back against the pillow, lost in the intensity. the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding only added to the heat between you, his mind spinning, overwhelmed by it all but still needing more.

“you're crazy, hee,” you groaned, breathless, “you’d really do that? what else have you been thinking about doing to me?”

his hands gripped your ass tighter, guiding your movements, his hips thrusting up to meet you with a frantic need. heeseung’s breath came in short, ragged bursts, his eyes blown wide with lust. “i think about you all the time,” he admitted, voice hoarse, shaky from how raw it all felt. “every night… thinking about you riding me just like this. fuck—sometimes i imagine you tying me up, keeping me there so i can’t move… and i’d just have to take it.”

he choked on a moan, the fantasy making his body shake beneath you, each confession spilling out uncontrollably. “you’d be in control,” he whimpered, words barely coherent. “make me earn every second i spend inside your pussy…”

the thought alone had him dizzy, his body quivering beneath you. “and then—fuck, i’d be so desperate, i’d cum so fast, but you wouldn’t stop, would you? you’d make me keep going, even when it hurts… 'cause i want it, i want all of it.” his voice cracked, hands shaking as he held onto you for dear life, eyes glazed with pure need.

he was practically vibrating, his whole body humming with arousal, his mind clouded with filthy thoughts that only made him more desperate. “wanna learn how to make you squirt with my mouth,” he gasped. “could spend forever eating your pussy.”

your own arousal spiked at his words, his dirty fantasies making your heart race as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his ear. “you want me to sit on your face?” you whispered, your voice dripping with teasing cruelty. “want me to smother you with my pussy until you can’t breathe?”

heeseung’s entire body shuddered, his grip tightening on you as he gasped. “yes, fuck yes,” he moaned, voice trembling with need. “please, suffocate me with it. i want to drown in you, taste every inch of your pussy. i’d let you use me until i can’t think straight, i swear. fuck… just… anything.”

you bit your lip, smirking as you watched heeseung completely unravel beneath you. “so you want to be my little toy, huh?” you teased, grinding down on him harder, forcing a loud, broken moan from his lips.

his entire body tensed, head falling back against the pillow as he whimpered, hands clutching your hips with desperate need. “yes, fuck, i’d be anything you want, just use me,” he begged, his voice cracking. “please, y/n… i just want to make you feel good.”

“oh, heeseung,” you cooed, amusement dripping from your voice as you leaned down, kissing him deeply, your tongue teasing his as he moaned into your mouth. “you’re such a good boy, aren’t you? always so eager to please.”

he groaned, trembling as you continued to ride him, the wet sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room. “yes, i just wanna be good for you,” he whispered, barely holding it together.

his words, his submission, his desperation—it only pushed you closer to the edge.

you quickened the pace, grinding harder, faster, driving him to the brink of insanity. the tight, wet heat of your pussy squeezing him had heeseung losing the last shred of control. his breath hitched, his body stiffened beneath you, overwhelmed by the building pressure.

“fuck, y/n—i’m gonna—" his voice cracked, trembling as he begged for release. his hands twitched, desperate to touch you but still pinned down. “please, i can’t—i’m gonna cum,” he whimpered, tears filling his eyes as he stared up at you, completely at your mercy.

but you didn’t stop. pushing him deeper into that maddening pleasure, his hips bucked beneath you uncontrollably. “please, please,” he sobbed, his voice shaking, body trembling as his orgasm hit him like a wave, stealing his breath. “oh fuck, oh god, please—” his moans grew louder, higher-pitched, raw with submission as he came deep inside you, cock pulsing wildly.

“i can’t—i can’t stop,” he cried, tears streaking his flushed cheeks as his hips jerked beneath you, unable to control the way his body responded. “i’m so sorry—no, i’m cumming so much,” his voice cracked, filled with both pleasure and apology as his release seemed endless, his cock twitching violently, spilling more and more inside you.

and the sight of him like this—lost in his own pleasure, tears running down his face, voice shattered—pushed you over the edge.

your body tensed above him, the pressure inside you snapping, and your orgasm crashed through you in powerful waves. a loud, unrestrained moan ripped from your throat, your body trembling as you rode the high, your walls clenching tight around his cock, milking every last drop.

as his orgasm finally began to fade, heeseung was still gasping for air, his body trembling beneath you, completely spent and sensitive. small, broken whimpers escaped his lips as the intensity of it left him dazed, his skin slick with sweat, chest rising and falling rapidly.

even after his release slowed, every slight movement made him jerk beneath you, soft, needy moans slipping out. “y/n…” he whispered, voice shaky, barely able to form words. “i couldn’t stop… you made me… fuck, it was so much.”

his eyes fluttered open, hazy with exhaustion and pleasure, his face still flushed and tear-streaked. when your body settled down on top of his, heeseung’s trembling hands reached up, pulling you close. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to catch his breath.

“i’m so sensitive… so fucking sensitive,” he murmured, voice barely audible, his body shivering beneath you. every small touch sent shocks through him, leaving him overstimulated, yet still craving your warmth, your touch.

heeseung’s grip on you tightened, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you close, chest heaving against yours. soft, shaky kisses pressed to your skin, his lips brushing gently against your neck. “that was… i don’t even have words…” he let out a soft, breathy laugh, still panting, mind completely blown by everything that had just happened. “i didn’t know… it could feel like that,” heeseung whispered, his voice shaky with disbelief.

“so you love me, huh?” you teased, resting your head against his chest and glancing up at him with a playful smile.

heeseung’s heart stuttered, post-orgasm bliss now mixing with a wave of nervous energy that hit him all at once. his cheeks burned a deep red as he tried to find the right words, arms still wrapped tight around you, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“i mean… yeah, i guess i did say that, huh?” he mumbled, embarrassment thick in his voice, his eyes darting away from yours for a second, too flustered to meet your gaze.

he bit his lip, trying to hide how hard his pulse was racing, but then, as if he couldn’t hold it back any longer, he shyly glanced back at you. the vulnerability in his eyes was clear, he answers, “but fuck… yeah. i do.” the blush on his face deepened, spreading down his neck, hot and intense. “i love you.”

he let out a small, awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous, clearly unsure of how to navigate this new level of intimacy. “didn’t really plan on confessing like this, though…” he sighed, gaze flickering to the ceiling, face still flushed. “such a dick move, right? confessing during sex…” the nervous chuckle that followed only made his embarrassment more obvious.

his hands rested gently on your back, a bit hesitant, like he didn’t know how to fully relax into this moment. “i didn’t mean for it to come out like that… it just—” he paused, struggling to find the right words, his voice softening, more sincere now. “it felt right… but not because of the sex.” his eyes found yours again, searching your face, his voice a quiet plea. “i meant it, y/n. even if it was the worst possible timing, i really do love you.”

he paused again, his blush darkening, clearly thinking about his premature orgasm from that first time. “god, you could’ve had anyone, and you still decided to tutor me after that mess…”

his words hung heavy between you, and you could feel the rapid thudding of his heart beneath your palm. he was still so vulnerable, even now, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you had chosen to be here with him—his arms wrapped around you, both of you lying together after the most mind-blowing sex of his life.

“heeseung,” you whispered, your voice firm but filled with warmth. “i wanted you then, and i want you now. that doesn’t change just because things didn’t go perfectly.”

heeseung stared at you, eyes wide with disbelief, like he couldn’t quite wrap his head around what you were saying. “really?” his voice was quiet, fragile, like he was afraid to believe it.

“yes, really,” you reassured him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “i love you. you don’t have to be perfect for me to feel that.”

his face lit up instantly, a wide, boyish grin spreading across his face, almost as if he wanted to cry from sheer happiness.

“say it again,” he practically whined, his voice overflowing with joy as he eagerly leaned down to kiss you, lips messy and eager.

you laughed into the kiss, pulling him closer, your heart swelling at the sight of him so happy. “i love you,” you repeated, louder this time, playful. his whole face lit up like a kid on christmas morning, and you could feel his excitement in every touch, every eager kiss, his hands pulling you as close as possible.

“yup, i’m never gonna get tired of hearing that,” he mumbled between kisses, his hands roaming your back, holding you tighter. “say it forever.”

“well, i totally fell in love with you first,” you teased, looking up at him with a playful grin.

heeseung’s smile widened, eyes gleaming with mischief. “i should be thanking you for that, 'cause i would’ve been way too chicken to do anything.” he chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. “seriously, i wouldn’t have done shit.”

“was it because of my—” he started, obviously about to crack a joke, but you cut him off with a laugh, shoving him lightly.

“don’t even try it,” you teased, giving him a pointed look. “it wasn’t because of whatever you're about to say.”

he grinned, refusing to drop it. “no, really—was it because of my charm or my amazing… skills?” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, even though his red face gave away how flustered he still was.

you rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “it’s because you’re awkward, sweet, and everything i didn’t know i needed,” you said, voice softening as you leaned in to kiss him again. “but sure, let’s pretend it was the 'skills.’”

“look at you, mr. confident all of a sudden,” you teased, feeling the warmth spread through you as he relaxed completely, more playful and at ease than ever before.

heeseung shrugged with a smirk. “maybe i’m learning from the best,” he murmured, leaning in for another slow, deliberate kiss. “you bring it out of me, y/n.”

“whatever, hee,” you chuckle, and he groaned softly at the nickname, arms tightening around you as he buried his face in your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

“a nickname?” he gushed, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes shining with excitement. “i’m totally your boyfriend now, aren’t i?”

his excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how happy he seemed. “yes, you’re totally my boyfriend now,” you teased, running a hand through his hair, watching him grin down at you like he was the happiest person in the world.

“fuck, i love that,” he mumbled, his voice filled with pride and affection as he kissed you again, this time slower, savoring the moment. “your boyfriend,” he whispered between kisses.

he pulled back slightly, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “so…” he started, mischief clear in his voice, “can i tell jay you totally made the first move?”

you snorted, shaking your head. “heeseung, you can tell jay whatever you want,” you teased, brushing your hand along his jawline. “i know you just wanna brag that you didn’t cum prematurely this time.”

heeseung blushed, but his sheepish smile was impossible to miss, his eyes gleaming with playful pride. “well… i mean, it’s kind of a big deal, right?” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “i finally made it through without embarrassing myself, so yeah… maybe i will brag a little.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, laughing softly as you nuzzled into his chest.

heeseung’s grin widened, but then he shifted, his fingers trailing down your side with a teasing glint in his eyes. “oh, but before i do that…” he murmured, sending a shiver down your spine. “remember what i said earlier?” he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“i still want to eat my cum out of your pussy.”

the heat rushed through you, your pulse quickening at his words, and you felt your body tense with anticipation. heeseung’s eyes darkened, filled with lust and longing as he watched your reaction, waiting for you to give him the green light.

“fuck, hee,” you whispered, breathless, your body already responding to the idea. “you’re really gonna do that?”

he nodded, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, breath hitching slightly, eyes flicking up to meet yours, wide and full of anticipation. “if you’ll let me,” he whispered, voice soft and pleading. “i… i want to so bad.” his hands trembled slightly as they rested on your hips, his gaze filled with a mix of awe and desperation.

heeseung’s entire body shuddered as he lowered his gaze, like he couldn’t bear the weight of how much he needed this. “you’re gonna love it,” he whispered. “please… tell me i can.”

you couldn’t resist the way he begged, voice trembling with need, so you nodded, granting him what he so desperately wanted. without hesitation, heeseung kissed down your body, his lips soft, breath hot against your skin. when he reached your core, he paused for a second, taking in a deep breath like he was savoring the moment.

“thank you,” he whispered, barely audible, before his tongue flicked out, tasting both you and the remnants of his cum. the sensation sent a shockwave through your body, making you jerk slightly from the overstimulation. his grip tightened, keeping you steady as his tongue worked slow, deliberate strokes along your slit.

“fuck,” he groaned, eyes rolling back for a second, licking another long, slow stripe. he looked up at you, eyes wide and submissive, tongue covered in the mixture of his cum and your juices. without breaking eye contact, he swallowed with a deep moan, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted. “we taste so fucking good,” he mumbled, diving back in with more eagerness, licking your pussy clean.

your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, guiding him as he continued, every flick of his tongue sending electric shocks through your body.

the overstimulation was intense, but his desperation to please made it impossible for you to ask him to stop.

heeseung pulled back only when he was sure he’d cleaned every last drop, his lips glistening, chest heaving. “did you like it?” he asked, voice trembling, eyes still wide, desperate for approval.

“yeah, you did so good,” you whispered, still catching your breath.

he smiled, pride swelling in his chest, and he kissed your inner thigh before crawling up to hold you tightly. his body trembled with exhaustion as he collapsed into your embrace.

“come on,” you whispered softly, brushing the hair from his sweaty forehead. “let me take care of you now.”

heeseung blinked up at you, too tired to protest even though you could see he wanted to. “but—”

“no buts,” you teased, kissing him gently. “you’re exhausted. I want to run you a bath.”

he watched you with those wide, trusting eyes as you moved around the room. grabbing his hand, you pulled him to his feet, guiding him to the bathroom. “you don’t have to do this,” he whispered, but the look of gratitude on his face said otherwise.

“i want to,” you insisted, turning on the tap, watching as the water filled the tub. his body was flushed, still trembling from everything that had just happened, mind blown from the intensity.

“sit,” you commanded softly, helping him into the tub. the moment the warm water enveloped him, heeseung let out a soft sigh, leaning his head back, his eyes fluttering shut.

kneeling beside the tub, you ran your fingers through his damp hair, massaging his scalp. he hummed contentedly. “this is nice,” he whispered, voice sleepy.

“you deserve it,” you murmured, kissing his temple. “just relax, heeseung.”

he smiled lazily, reaching for your hand, squeezing it gently. “thank you for this… for everything.”

as he started to drift off, he opened his eyes, a playful glint shining in them. “hey… does this mean i can tell jay now?”

you laughed, shaking your head. “you can do whatever you want, hee.”

grinning like a little kid, he grabbed his phone and, with zero shame, called jay. “hey, jay?” he said, trying to sound casual, but his voice was still filled with excitement. “yeah, you’ll never guess what just happened… nope, no premature shit this time. and guess who made the first move?”

your eyes widened in disbelief, laughter bubbling up. “you’ve got to be kidding me, heeseung,” you muttered, shaking your head.

he winked at you, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he continued bragging to jay. “told you i’d brag,” he mouthed, clearly proud of himself.

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