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clubdionysus · 5 months ago

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[BAD DECISION #51] Space

warnings: okay this one is like.. a lot. Return of the ajummas, very very very cute date night waaaaa, kook is just the cutest at the start of this one :(, a little under the stars smut (starluvrs doing what they do best!!) oral (m), rimming (m), doggy, lovely stuff! An attempt at communication….a fail at communication…. Oh no! Arguments :( friends to the rescue!!! Namseok say hi! Enter stage left: the red witch, dionysus!, the most iconic ‘chess’ of the entire story, waaaa

notes: i just love how the bd headers are like lil time capsules of what was happening at the time I was writing hehe. this one is just over 25k, sorryyy!! only 2 chapters tonight but 35k worth!! and a massive plot moment hehe

wc: 25K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

The air in May is lighter. Free of the frigid spring temperatures, summer is on the precipice, with a warmth you've not felt for quite some time.

Though you attribute it to the ever-changing seasons, you know that this warmth would be wrapped around you regardless of the time of year – for you're wearing Jeongguk's shirt. The scent of his aftershave lingers, and each subtle wave of the aroma feels like a small kiss to your cheek; a reminder of what you are. Who he is to you.

"So he's your boyfriend?" Minsu, one of the elderly ladies adorned in floral print gilets, sitting on their usual bench outside the CU, asks.

"Well," you inhale a little air between your teeth. "Not exactly."

There are a few groans of disbelief, heads shaking.

"Kids these days."

"Why would he not be your boyfriend?"

"Because!" you laugh, thinking that the word alone is enough of answer, but knowing they'll never accept it. "It's not that simple. There are rules and expectations and-"

"Excuses! Excuses!" Minsu makes sure to interject.

And perhaps they're right. Perhaps these are thinly veiled excuses for Jeongguk, because you don't want him to lose favour. Don't want anyone to think negatively of him.

They've been listening to you babble on about Jeongguk for the past half an hour, having caught you on a convenience store run. You'd only gone to pick up a snack. Are dressed down in one of his shirts and a pair of leggings. Didn't intend on seeing anyone – but the second they clocked you, you knew you'd be busy for the better part of an hour. The silver chain around your neck is hidden between the cotton of the shirt, your bird resting prettily just above your heart. Right where it belongs.

Occasionally, you reach up to twiddle with it a little absentmindedly.

Though she doesn't mention it, Minsu notices how you touch it whenever your replies get a little scattered. Anxious. You're self-soothing, or so it would appear – and using your most prominent reminder of him to do so.

"Not excuses," you insist, a sweet smile on your face. You're not taking their criticisms too seriously, and you know they mean well so why worry about it? If anything, perhaps it's good to hear outside opinions away from your friends. "I just... well, I want him to ask. I don't wanna be the one to do it."

The thing is, their criticisms come from experience. They've given you advice in regards to Jeongguk before, which had proven to be worthwhile. Identified times in which he was being a big old baby, and told you to hold off being reactive – and they were right to do so. You trust their judgement far better than you trust your own.

And so, the next critique makes you feel all out of sync and uneasy.

"Okay," Jinnae, the most vocal of the group accepts, but then poses a question that will haunt you all week. Will keep you up at night. Have you wondering the exact same thing. "So why hasn't he asked?"

Days without you are hard, or so Jeongguk finds in the week that follows Yoongi's wedding celebrations.

Busy covering shifts that you'd swapped with colleagues in order to keep the wedding weekend empty in your schedule, you've barely had a second to yourself, let alone to spend on Jeongguk.

And either way, it's not like he's been around.

Ring bearer isn't the only recently acquired title of his. He's a house sitter, now, too. Or a cat sitter, whichever you choose to believe needs more looking after while Yoongi and Seoyeon are on their Honeymoon. Japan, then Jeju. Nothing too extravagant or far from home, but far enough that they can forget their lives back home for a little while.

Everyone they meet while on their vacation will only ever know them as a married couple. That's their life now. Forever identifiable as the husband or wife of someone else – and that's precisely how they'd like their lives to be.

Jeongguk envies them, in a way. Desperately wishes his journey to finding a love like that could have been simple. Is embarrassed, in a way, over how long he spent chasing a love that never was. Likes to pretend he lives without regret, but he's got a few – none more so than Hayun. Or at least, how he behaved when she came back into the picture.

Because the regret really isn't about her; it's about you, and how he treated you. Knows he could have done better. Wishes he had.

While the past can't be changed, he likes to think the future isn't pre-destined. Doesn't know much about the stars, but if they have fated him to live this way, he hopes it's not without purpose.

In the city, the sky never gets dark. Not really. Lights of the night markets and neons of the party district keep the place you call home illuminated until the sun rises. Peace and quiet is reserved for the sticks; the area outside of the ancient city walls that once would have belonged to farmers, or those ostracised from high society.

These days, there's a price that comes with country living. You need money if you want the freedom of a slow life while still having access to the city. Thankfully, Yoongi's made a reputable name for himself, and Seoyeon's been equally steady in her career. Good financial decisions have been their strong point for years, and is why they can afford the life they live.

As Jeongguk lays on his back in the Min's living room, a purry Oduun perched prettily on his sternum, he wonders if he'll ever be able to afford such freedom.

Lips pursed, eyes hard, he loses track of how long he wastes pondering it all. His job, his degree, if it was a waste or not, how the fuck he's gonna find another location for the restaurant - if the restaurant is even viable for him, now.

He's not much one for fate. Thinks that if you want something, you have to work hard for it - but damn it , he did work hard, and he still lost.

He thinks of you. How close he came to losing you. Knows that if were to ever lose you, properly, then that would be it. He'd simply lose passion for everything and anything. Thinks without you, his heart would burn out, and then what use is he to anyone?

What use is the nights sky without stars to guide wayward travellers? The moon without a sun?

With a sigh that's so hearty Oduun jumps off him, Jeongguk reaches for his phone. Finds the standard chain of notifications, and a couple of messages from you. Just forwarded videos in your shared DMs, nothing big. The fact that you've been sending him anything at all must mean that work is slow - and is only confirmed when he gets another message pinging through.

You: closing up early x

Just gone nine, it really is early, but if the books are empty and you don't anticipate any walk-ins on weekdays, you have the green light to shut up shop.

He doesn't really give it much thought as he presses the little telephone icon in the corner of your chat. Puts you on speaker, and places his phone down on his chest where Oduun once was.

"Yep?" You answer after only a couple dial tones.

"Two options," Jeongguk states, a smile on his lips thanks to the fact you answered. "Option one: You get the last bus up to Yoongi's neighbourhood, and while you're on the bus, I'll cook dinner. Or, option two: I drive down now and pick you up, and we get takeout on the way back up."

"Are you allowed guests?" You hum through the phone, as if his offers aren't making you feel all giddy inside. If this were to be a video call, you would have angled the camera away from your face, just so he wouldn't be able to see how broad your smile is.

"Better to ask for forgiveness than permission," he grins - but he does have permission. Yoongi had already cleared it - and you know this, because Seoyeon had been sure to send you a message explaining the alarm system, and a couple emergency numbers for while they were away. Your presence wasn't just allowed, it was expected.

"Sounds like trouble waiting to happen."

"You know I like trouble," he purrs. You can picture the serene smile on his pretty lips as he says it, the subtle smirk you're just dying to kiss once more.

"Alright," you say softly. There's a smaller clatter in the background, sounds of you cleaning up the café for the day accenting your words. "I'll go home and grab some things, then get the bus."

"Sure?"

"Sure," you say. "Makes no sense having you drive all the way down."

"I don't mind," he insists, but you shake your head as if he can see.

"It's fine - plus you never cook, and yet you're always bragging about how good you are. Time to put you to the test."

"Alright," he grins down the phone. "You're on."

"It's a date. See you later, Gguk."

"Yeah," he says softly, serenity in his weightless words. "It's a date. See you later, B."

As the line goes dead, and Jeongguk is left to his own thoughts, the smile etched into his lips doesn't face. In fact, there's a buzz akin to a real-life bee in his chest. A bee because of his B. Checks out.

"Ugh," he groans out. Looks across to the midnight black kitty curled up on the sofa. "What are we gonna do, boy?"

Though he knows it was just a turn of phrase, Jeongguk thinks that perhaps tonight really should be a date.

It's been a while since your last one, through no fault of anyone, and he's been holding out until the fifth date to properly make things official. Knows that you both catastrophically failed at the no hooking up thing, and reckons that you should at least have something to celebrate the milestone. Thinks that perhaps it would be apt. A 'normal' thing to happen after a fifth date.

Nothing about you and Jeongguk has ever been remotely normal, and so he wants to give you something that is.

It'll take you just over an hour to reach Yoongi's place if you get the subway then switch over to the bus, but Jeongguk reckons you'll probably get the direct route given the fact you hadn't mentioned the subway at all. Though it's easier, because there are no changes, it does take an extra twenty minutes. Add a little extra clean down time, and the fact you need to run home first, he thinks he's got a safe two hours until you arrive.

Already dark, it'll only be darker by the time you arrive – and it's when he's thinking about the fact he should walk to meet you from the bus stop, that an idea hatches.

"Oh, you genius, Oduun," he exclaims, as if the cat telepathically gave him some sort of direction. Getting to his feet, Jeongguk reaches for his car keys. "You'll be okay here, won't you, boy? Uncle Ggukie's only gonna be twenty minutes. I'll pick you up a treat!"

Ten minutes north of Yoongi's place is a small town. It's still technically within the city boundary, but you'd never think of it as being so. There's not much there – a few schools and a couple hagwons, small-scale offices and some places to get cheap meat but overpriced beer. There is, thankfully, a Daiso on the crossroads in the heart of the town, which should have everything he needs.

He's out of the door and on the road within no time, heart beating a little too fast than is probably healthy for a man as fit as him in his mid-twenties. It's not that he's nervous as such – just excited. Hasn't seen you in a few days. Is learning what the phrase' absence makes the heart grows fonder' truly means.

Parking up a few roads over to avoid paying for a space, Jeongguk checks he's got his wallet, then heads to the store. Head down, quick on his feet, he's got no time to waste. Goes straight up to homewares for a couple of the standard white fuzzy blankets and some handwarmers from the last of the stock from winter. He doubts they'll be used, but gets them just in case. Realistically, Yoongi has everything Jeongguk could possibly need for the little plan he's concocting, but he wants it to be special. Wants to put in a considered effort, because it's important.

By the time he's paying, he's filled up two of the large paper Daiso carrier bags with things. Candles, trinket dishes, a 'My First' telescope from the kids section, and some binoculars from the garden section.

His little shopping trip isn't over yet, though. The mart opposite Daiso is his next stop – meat, and snacks. Not quite a meal, no, but he'll make it work. He grabs whiskey for himself, and some sparkling water to make highballs, then picks up your favourite sparkling wine, 'cause he knows whiskey isn't your favourite. Also nabs a treat for Oduun, as promised.

Hands full, the attendant offers to help carry things to his car, but Jeongguk insists it's fine – though he does drop off the bags in his boot before he heads off to his third and final destination.

To the left of the mart is a small alley that houses a greengrocers and florist. Closing early, the florist leaves some pre-made bouquets with the greengrocers, just so that they don't go to waste. Jeongguk only knows this because Yoongi swears it's a lifesaver whenever Seoyeon is feeling a little down – and so even though he assumes you're perfectly happy, Jeongguk doesn't want to leave anything up to chance.

There's a buzz of old lightbulbs as he enters the greengrocers, a thick metal chain-link curtain keeping unwanted bugs out of the small shop. The lights are cold and a little fluorescent, but he supposes it's needed for a place this.

"Can I help you with anything, love?" A friendly voice of an elderly woman chimes when she notices Jeongguk's perplexed eyes struggle to locate the flowers.

"Uh, the florist – do you have any bouquets left?" He replies immediately, 'cause he's got no time to be dilly-dallying.

Nodding towards the front corner of the shop, she smiles. "Only a few, today."

Jeongguk follows her eyes and is relieved to see four bouquets of mixed flowers sitting in a bucket. "Oh perfect!"

Or at least, they are until he goes to grab them – at which point he frowns again. Sprinkled across all four bouquets are his arch nemesis: white roses.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath – but he's got no other choice. Takes all four bouquets to the counter.

The shallow pool of water the flowers had been standing in has left the stems wet, so the cashier offers to wrap them, but Jeongguk thinks there's no point.

"Actually," he says. "Could I borrow your scissors?"

It's not something customers often ask, but she hands them over regardless. Watches on silently as Jeongguk snips the string tied around the stems, and how he carefully but casuals the roses from the bunches. There's a couple in each bouquet. By the time he's done, he's got enough roses for a small bouquet – which he absolutely does not want.

"Here," Jeongguk smiles, handing them to the woman. Feels the need to explain himself, but is embarrassed by the truth, so says, "My, uh-" He doesn't know what to call you. "She hates roses."

"Well, tell your girlfriend I say thank you," the cashier beams. Never gets flowers from her husband, so she'll gladly accept them from a far-too-young-for-her hunk of a man like Jeongguk. "She's a lucky lady!"

The way he smiles at this before he scurries out is sweet. Bashful, even. "Will do. Thanks."

Flowers tossed down on the front seat, Jeongguk wastes no time getting back to Yoongi's place. Has already lost the best part of an hour and missed a text from you saying that you're on your way. Curses when he's finally in the kitchen with all of his shopping, and notices the notification. He's got plenty of time, but he wants to freshen up, too. Practically runs upstairs to the shower on all fours. Is in and out within five minutes.

Frantic as he riffles through his overnight bag in search of something to wear, Jeongguk doesn't really have anything with him that feels date-worthy – but he does have his outfit from the wedding. You'd gone home with Danbi and Tae so that Jeongguk could head straight on over to check on Oduun.

Much to Jeongguk's horror, you spent the entire drive home getting grilled by an incredibly smug Jimin who was also riding in the back with you. Had relayed to Jeongguk the horror story of Jimin's relentless questioning. It did, admittedly, make Jeongguk laugh when you told him that you'd insisted on nothing happening.

"Said we were just besties," you'd giggled on Facetime a few nights ago. "I think he bought it. Definitely is none the wiser."

Realistically, both of you have confirmed to Jimin on separate occasions, multiple times, that you fuck around together – and even if you hadn't, he's not stupid. He heard you that one night in Pohang. Has walked in on one too many curious sets of circumstances to not know.

But it's fun to pretend like no one knows, so you still do. You don't actually believe it. Plus, it also winds Jimin up so much that a vein starts to appear on his forehead out of frustration, and, like, Jimin's right in thinking you're a brat. It's not just reserved for the bedroom.

And given that he'll never get the luxury of you in the bedroom ever again, you may as well give him a taste of what he could have had if only he'd have learned what a g-spot is.

Jeongguk quite enjoys how much you like messing with Jimin, 'cause he likes doing it, too. Likes that you can do it together.

While the suit needs dry cleaner, he's already put the dress shirt through the washing machine, so grabs it off the hanging rail in the spare room. Hair wet, he's all haphazard. Leaves the shirt undone as he pulls on a pair of socks and then sifts through his clothes for a half-decent pair of trousers. Could always borrow Yoongi's, but Jeongguk's an ass man through and through. Has seen Yoongi's. Knows they wouldn't fit him quite right.

Still, he's not gonna wear his suit trousers, but jeans feel too casual, and all of his other trousers do, too.

"Fuck," he curses, the butterflies in his stomach teasing him with pin-needles on the edges of their wings. He's anxious, and they're not helping. Stripping himself of the shirt, he pulls a white vest down onto his body. A wife pleaser, Jimin always calls them, 'cause he's never met a girl who didn't go a little feral over them, and Jeongguk much prefers this name for the sleeveless tank top than what they're typically called. Deciding on dark, loose jeans, secured at the waist with a thick leather belt, Jeongguk'll pick an overshirt later.

For now, he runs down to finish setting up. Gets the alcohol in the fridge, meat marinated. Cleans himself up, checks his hair in the mirror and is pleased to see it's airdried well. A little dishevelled, he puts some product in it to keep it in place. Will get ruined by your hands later no doubt, but for now? Looks pretty damn good, if he does say so himself.

"Oh, god," he exhales a little breathlessly, mind working so fast he's forgetting what he's doing. Standing in the kitchen, he looks around for something to jog his memory. Catches Oduun judgementally looking at him, instead.

"Well you're not being much help are you?" He sighs, but goes to pick him up regardless. Oduun doesn't like hugs. Doesn't particularly like anything other than salmon treats and stalking birds in the yard – but Jeongguk is incapable of going more than a day without giving him a salmon treat as a bribe for hugs, so Oduun lets it slide, even when Jeongguk bounces him like a baby. He's melodic as he sings, "What to do, what to do, what to do?"

But then he clocks the Daiso bags by the back door and knows exactly why he was so frantic. Pops Oduun down on the counter. Thanks him for his help, then darts outside to set everything up.

By the time Jeongguk is back inside, and his phone is lit up from notifications on the kitchen table, he realises the time. Has a missed call from you, and a message saying you've reached the bus stop ten minutes ago – and then right on cue, there's a knock at the door.

"Fuck," he curses. Still hasn't got an overshirt on. Can't really do anything about it now. Takes a second to breathe and make it look like his heart isn't beating so fast it'll break through his chest, and then heads through the house to the front door.

He really needn't try to control the way his heart is beating, for yours is doing the exact same thing. Bag slung over your shoulder, a bottle of the whiskey you know Jeongguk likes in your hands, you're a little unsure of yourself. Feel nervous for some reason. The dainty silver rings on your fingers tap against the bottle as you reposition yourself. Want to look perfect for him. Want to adjust your hair, but then you can see his figure through frosted glass and then-

"Hi," Jeongguk smiles, and it's like he's restored a sense of calmness in you.

Your heart is still going at a mile a minute, because he's gorgeous , and you just can't help it.

"I come bearing gifts," you beam like a cosmic entity as you hold up the whiskey. Dressed for the occasion, you've made an effort. While, yes, you are in one of his shirts, it's layered over a white polo neck and tucked into the short black skirt you're wearing. The outfit isn't too dissimilar from what you wore on your first date, but there's a sheer black layer over your legs and a pair of chunky boots on your feet. A thick black belt, much like the one Jeongguk is wearing, ties it together, and the pretty silver bird around your neck is evidence of how delicate you can be.

There's a chunky silver glitter beneath your lashline, and shimmer all over your skin, just like there always is.

Maybe he just hasn't seen you in a while, but he thinks he's never been more attracted to you.

Which is funny, 'cause the way his body looks in that white tank top, all gorgeous and defined, has you choking on your own spit. His strong arms are out for your viewing pleasure, tattoos trailing down one of his arms like he's deserving of a spot in the next gallery show you're setting up for Taehyung. God. Feels like you'll die just looking at him.

"So you did," he says as he holds his palm out for you to take and ushers you inside. Lets you pop your bag down as he rests the bottle on the small table by the door, but doesn't wait for you to talk your shoes off. Is slow in his movements as he traps your back to the wall, his hips pressing to your tummy as his hands sneak beneath your jaw. He nudges his nose up against yours. Smirks when your hands squeeze his waist. Whispers, "Swear I was gonna be romantic but what the fuck, B? How are you so... fuck ."

"So... what?" You tease, as if you don't know how he works.

"You got on a bus like this?" He grits through his teeth as one of his hands drops to the hem of your skirt, hooking beneath your thigh to encourage it to wrap around him. It's around now that Jeongguk realises you're not wearing tights – cause tights don't have lace around the top of them, and tights also definitely don't have clasps hooking them to a garter belt.

"Mhmm," you smirk, smug in how it's taken Jeongguk approximately three seconds to get a semi. "Issue?"

He shakes his head. Lets his lips brush against yours. "Bet everyone on that bus wanted you."

There's a predictability that comes with Jeongguk and how much he thinks his desire must be the human baseline. Finds himself irresistibly attracted to you, and is convinced that everyone else must be, too. Doesn't care for the fact that tastes vary. Anyone who doesn't want you must be clinically insane, in his eyes.

But he also likes that. He likes getting what other people can't. Is a high achiever. Enjoys the exclusivity of it all – even if you technically aren't.

"Good job I don't have a boyfriend then, isn't it?" You tease.

Jeongguk can't argue against this, 'cause it's true – but you both know you're not really single.

And so he sinks his lips into yours to remind you of that. Lets the weight of his body trap you in place, and the softness of his hands remind you how safe he always is. There's a welcome nature to his dominance now, a clear indication of how much he's missed you in the time you've spent apart. Light with his lips, Jeongguk knows he can't get too carried away.

Resting his forehead against yours, he laughs ever so sweetly. "Just friends, yeah?"

The way you tease each other about your 'friendship' will never grow old, you think. Will still be insisting that you're just mates on your joint gravestone . Here lies Jeon Jeongguk: brother, son, bestie.

Easing his grip on your leg, Jeongguk pulls back from the embrace and perches his ass on the arm of the sofa. Takes a second to just drink you in.

"Best friends," you grin, then walk towards him, 'cause you've got no intention of spending any time away from him. The positioning comes naturally, how your hands cup his jaw and his stroke up the back of your thighs. He loves the feeling of the stockings. Never wants to stop.

"The bestest," he husks as you look down at him, glitter sparkling in the low lighting of the sitting room. "God, you look hideous today."

"Thanks, mate," you smile – and oh God, he's so close to saying things he can't take back. "You look pretty goddamn grotesque, too."

Pulling away from him, you take your shoes off and instantly lose the two spare inches that the chunky soles had afforded you. It makes him laugh, but he doesn't tease you about it. Instead, he just holds your shoulders and encourages you through to the kitchen. Should have really told you to keep your shoes on, give the fact he's guiding you to the back door.

You interrupt his direction of your body to give Oduun a little head scratch, then let his control over you resume.

"Oh," you say. "My shoes – I should-"

You're cut off by Jeongguk hoisting you over his shoulder – and the way you scream absolutely does not phase Oduun in the slightest. If cats could raise a brow, you think he'd be doing exactly that.

"Gguk!" You shriek, but his arm is firmly hooked around your legs to stop you from catapulting to the ground – but he does also take the opportunity to push your skirt up a little. Can see just how sexy your underwear is from the corner of his eye. Delivers a short, sharp spank to your ass and is so incredibly pleased to hear the way you whine.

"You'll get one for each time you complain," he tells you.

Laughs, when you reply, "In that case, I hate this. This is the worst."

He does as he said he would – delivers a spank to your ass – but also keeps his hand there afterwards to soothe any pain.

For all you could debate him when it comes to his stance as an ass guy, he still does bloody love yours.

Eyes closed, you revel in not just his strength and his security, but also his playfulness. There's truly no one like Jeongguk. You're not sure how you managed to get so lucky with him – but you know that you wouldn't change a single thing about your past if it meant that it led you here.

If anything, you're disappointed when he finally sets you down. Eyes on him, you sort of don't notice what's around you. Are too busy watching the way light glints in his small silver hoop as he bites down on his bottom lip. Eyes wide, there's a nervousness to him, overly keen to read your reaction.

Dragging your gaze away from him, you finally take in the garden around you – and find yourself a little lost for words.

Standing on a bed of blankets and scattered cushions, he's crafted an ethereal dream. LED candles flicker in the grass, and wax ones remain unlit, waiting for your arrival (safety first). The entire area has been dressed like a production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, little whimsical trinkets adorning the space around the blankets. A small table is set to the side, with snacks you love, and your favourite wine in a bucket of ice. In amongst the pillows are binoculars, and he's made sure Yoongi's garden fairy lights are all on.

"What is all this?" You say softly, turning to face him again. He still looks nervous – so you hold out your hand for him. Wait for him to kick off his shoes as he takes it, then joins you on the blankets.

"I haven't cooked yet," is all he says, as if he's looking for things to downplay the magic he's created for you.

"Doesn't matter," you promise, pulling him in for a pretty little kiss. It's fleeting, like the wings of a butterfly against his skin, but it's enough to let him know just how incredibly charmed you are by his efforts. "Gguk, this is... this is so cute."

He nods towards the pillows. Encourages you to sit. Says, "Skies are clear tonight. Figured we'd see if we could find your long-lost family."

It's only now that you realise his intentions. He wants to stargaze with you. Has been calling you a fuckin' star for months. Oh, it's all so sickly sweet, you could just die – but then you'd miss stargazing with him, and there's nothing more you want to do.

Reaching across for the remote that controls Yoongi's fairy lights, Jeongguk fades them out. Knows that light pollution is the worst for trying to see stars, and wants this to be successful.

You shuffle down the blankets, and wait for him to lie down with you. Though you're side by side, Jeongguk needs you closer – and so he weaves his fingers between yours. Says nothing for a moment or so, just letting his eyes adjust to the light levels, and is so incredibly pleased to see that it is clear out tonight.

"You any good with constellations?" He asks, knowing that his knowledge is stuck at the bigger dipper, Orion's belt, and you.

"A few," you admit. Point upwards to the sky, as if Jeongguk will be able to work out where you're pointing. "You've got the seven stars of the north – the big dipper – and then there's Orion a little further over." Your arm moves, to point at a brighter star to the left of it. "Okay, you see that one – that really bright one?" Jeongguk nods. Points upwards too, to the beacon of light in amongst the black abyss. "Jupiter."

"Really?"

"No idea," you admit, and it earns you a laugh from him - but you're not telling the exact truth. You know exactly what it is. Just feel a little shy saying it, because it means admitting that Thing is, you know Jeongguk. Know that he'll love what you're about to tell him. "Okay, so that's a lie. Do you see there's like... almost a box? Of smaller stars? And the bright one that totally isn't Jupiter is the one in the lower corner?"

"Mhmm," he says. Can see exactly what you're pointing out, but knows you're probably gonna tell him a bunch of bollocks again.

"Okay, so they're harder to make out, but there are a few more stars beyond them – they kinda like, spike out." You can see exactly what you mean, but know that without context it's probably difficult. Still, Jeongguk stares ahead, trying to figure the skies out. " That is a constellation."

"Not sure I believe you," he laughs quietly – but then you squeeze his hand and suddenly it's like you're incapable of lies. He'll believe everything that rolls off your tongue. Everything.

And so it's a good job you're telling the truth when you say, "It's Virgo. Your constellation."

"Really?" He asks again.

"Really. Second largest in the sky." You smile, now. "The box, is like the head and the rest of the stars are the body."

"A person?"

"Mhhm," you nod. "Virgo. The Virgin. Your constellation is the shape of a person."

"I'm not a virgin," he scoffs, knowing it doesn't mean that at all, but still choosing to be childish.

"Could have fooled me."

"Rude," he retorts, then adds, "And that's also a lie."

"Sure it is, babe. Sure it is," you laugh at how lame he chooses to be sometimes, and how much you adore it. He squeezes your hand, now. You know that calling him 'babe' must be the reasons why. Glancing over to him, you're pleased to see a tight-lipped smile plastered on his face. He doesn't look at you – but his smile does grow. Teeth show. And then he tells you to shut up.

"I'm not saying anything!" You protest, then gaze back up to the stars. "You can't see it, but Virgo is along the ecliptic plane."

"The what?"

"The ecliptic plane," you say, as if that will explain anything. "The path of the earth around the sun."

"Oh, really?"

"Mhmm," you nod. "And it also falls on the celestial equator."

He doesn't need you to dumb that one down. "Ah, so I'm pretty important, then?"

"Kinda," you smile. "There's only one other Zodiac constellation that also directly falls in line with the both of them."

"Which is?" He asks, wanting to sus out his competitor for the title of most important constellation in the sky.

"Pisces," you hum serenely. "Mine."

He turns to face you now, a bemused look of curiosity on his delicate features. When you turn your head to meet his gaze, you've a coy look about you.

"So let me get this straight," he grins. "Are you saying we're written in the stars?"

"I'm not saying anything," you desperately try not to giggle. Fail. "The stars are."

The way Jeongguk kisses you in the wake of this discovery is nothing short of cosmic. It's like he's an astronomer touching stardust for the very first time; delicate and yet terribly possessive. Doesn't want anyone else to have you. Cannot bear to let you go. Will revere and worship you until he's senile. Hair grey, skin wrinkled, his eyes will still be full of stars, as long as he has you.

"Never believed in astrology," he admits into your lips as he pulls your body across his. Gets you straddling him. Doesn't stop kissing you with every pause between words. "You make me reconsider it."

"You're welcome," you say, softly pressing a kiss on his cheek. Trail down his jaw. His throat. Revel in the sound of his breathless pants.

"I mean it," he insists. "There's nothing on this earth that–" his breath hitches as your teeth graze that sweet spot on his neck. "Oh, fuck – nothing on this earth can describe you."

Your lips curve against his skin as you press a kiss where your teeth just said hello, then sit up straight. Jeongguk pouts, and rests his palms on the top of your thighs. Thanks to the way you're sitting on him, your skirt has ridden up, but there are no complaints from Jeongguk. Instead, he lets his fingers toy with the clasps of the garter belt. It's the black one he packed for Busan. One that he's yet to experience.

"I can think of a few things to describe me," you flirt. "Amazing tits-"

"Check."

"Your bestie."

He laughs. You adore him. "Check."

"About to give you the best head of your life."

"Che- wait."

"What?"

Jeongguk looks very confused, but also very keen – and that is just how you like your men.

"I don't think I heard you right?"

"Oh, no," you smile. "You heard me absolutely correct. I can repeat it if you like?"

"Rather see it in practice, if I'm being honest, B," Jeongguk shamelessly declares. Licks across his bottom lip, then perches himself up on his elbows.

You lean forward. Steal a kiss. Whisper, "Yoongi's not got cameras out here, right?"

"Better fuckin' not," Jeongguk husks, then chases your lips for one final kiss before you pull away. Looks at you with unbridled desire as he says, "I'm willing to risk it, if you are."

Reaching across to stroke his cheek with your thumb, you're pleased when he leans into your touch. There's a docile nature to Jeongguk that comes out whenever you're a little dominant with him, and you find you enjoy just as much as you enjoy him taking the lead.

It's give and take with the pair of you; equal in all capacities, apart from times like these when you decide not to be.

"Fairy lights," you say. "On or off?"

He doesn't need asking twice. Wants to watch you, and the little LED candles really aren't enough for what he wants. "On."

You comply with his request, and are glad for it as you work your way down to between his thighs. He's already hard beneath his jeans, and there's a teeny tiny wet patch courtesy of you, thanks to a few kisses that really shouldn't have worked you up that much – but you suppose it's just a consequence of the person kissing you being Jeongguk.

Eyes trained on him as you palm him through the material of his trousers, you find the desperation on his features adorable. You can tell he just wants you to do something. Anything.

And so you decide to make him work a little harder. Nod towards his lower body. Say, "Take them off."

He nods. Frantically unbuckles his belt. Lets his eyes dart between you and his hands. Doesn't wanna miss the way you're taking out your claw clip, and replacing it with the hair tie around your wrist. Slips his jeans past his ass. Lets you see just how big he is, in a pair of white Calvins.

"Fuck," you exhale, 'cause how can you not? Like the rest of his body, his cock was made to be adored. It's only fitting that you've never loved one more.

He smirks at the way you can't take your eyes off his crotch. Have barely even noticed him awkwardly getting his jeans fully off. Too transfixed.

"You gonna suck it, or just stare at it?" He teases in good humour.

Casting him a jovial glare, you say, "Careful, or I'll do neither."

He absolutely knows that you one hundred percent would do that just to prove a petty point, so he shuts up. Looks ever so serene as he sighs into the feeling of your lips pressing kisses against the cotton covering his thick shaft.

Being with Jeongguk like this is a pleasure for all of your senses. The freshness of his laundry meeting the musky natural scent of his body is enough to drive you wild. When it's teamed with the pretty sounds of his dulcet whines? Well, it's a recipe for disaster. Or for sin. However you wanna perceive it.

Tugging on the waistband of his underwear, you let it ping against his skin. The instruction is clear enough, and he wastes no time lifting his hips to free himself from his underwear. They're tossed to the side with his trousers, that goddamn white vest the only thing left on his body. You want that off too – and when you tell him that, he complies without objection. Is happily entirely naked for you, just the silver chain around his neck and hoops on his lip left to remove - and you'll never ask for them off.

"Such a good boy for me, aren't you?" You praise, hands stroking up his thighs, deliberately not getting too close to his throbbing cock. It's so pretty like this- Hard. Needy. -the vein running up the underside of his shaft all engorged and desperate for your touch.

He mumbles some sort of agreement, lips pressed together, a muffled groan stuck in his throat as you let a tiny bit of spit drip from your pursed lips to his shaft. When it makes contact with his skin, his dick fucking twitches, and – oh – how you adore the male anatomy.

Pressing a wet kiss to his thigh, you work up until you're level with his cock, and switch sides. Trail down, this time. Giggle, when he groans.

"What is it?" you feign innocence. "Watcha want, Koo?"

It's a miracle he doesn't cum on the spot.

"Suck me off," he desperately husks, reaching down for you. Soft in his touch, he strokes your hair. Doesn't try and take the lead. Just wants to have you in all capacities.

"Say please," you tell him.

And so he does. "Suck me off, please."

He's so pretty when he begs, which is why you'll make him beg even more.

"Hmm," you hum, resuming your wanton kisses just out of reach. "Maybe later."

He's about to complain – but then he feels the warmth of your wet tongue stroking up his balls. "Fuck."

Lips soft against his skin, your hand gently begins to spread your spit up his shaft. It's not the focus right now, as you carefully take one of his balls in your mouth, gently rolling your tongue against it. Letting it go with a small pop, you giggle at the way he whines for you.

"Like that?" you check.

"Fuck," he husks. "Yeah, I fuckin' like that."

And it's proven with the way his body writhes for you under lunar light as you repeat your previous steps on the other side.

This time, you spit. Get him nice and wet. Lick between each side and neglect to pay any real attention his cock. He almost thinks you're about to finally focus on it when you ask, "What's the word, Gguk?"

"Word?" He asks, a little confused, panting slightly from the incomparable pleasure he's experiencing as both of your hands gently massage his cock.

"Chess," you tell him, as if he's ever really been the one who would need to use it.

"Chess?" He cocks a brow.

"Mhhm," you smile, understanding why he enjoys the dynamic you're normally in so much.

He asks no further questions. Trusts you. Knows you're gonna do all you can to make him feel good – and it excites him. Finds it hard to imagine a scenario in which he'll ever say chess.

Instead, he simply says, "Do whatever the fuck you want to me."

He's so pathetic, sometimes. So pliable, and pretty, and petite in his words despite the strength of his body.

And so as you let his cock sink into your mouth, one of your hands still at the base of his cock, you know you're gonna make him feel things you never have done before. You wanna rewrite his memories. Take claim of his body like he's done to yours. Want the scent of your perfume and touch of your hands synonymous with Jeongguk's understanding of what it is to come undone for another person.

There's no restraint to the way you take him; wet, warm, wanton. His hands grip in your hair, pushing you down as his hips start to thrash upwards. He hits the back of your throat again, and again, and again – until it all gets too much and he has to yank you away from him before he finishes far too soon.

Panting as you recover from letting him fuck your face, you're smirking. Are pleased that he seems to think he has control over the situation. Breathlessly, you say, "That was cute."

"Cute?" He laughs – and then watches with bated breath as you pull his belt from the loops of his trousers.

"Yeah," you grin, chin wet, lips glossy. "Cute. Put your hands together."

He complies immediately. Watches on with fascination as you wrap the belt around his wrists and securely fasten it in a way that no one has ever done to him before.

"What's the word?" You ask again.

He doesn't need clarification this time. "Chess."

"Good boy."

Jeongguk swears he might just cum. You're too much for him. Too good. Get him whiney and whimpery from the smallest of touches.

As you shuffle back a little in your position, you sink down into a feline pose, and get back to the task at hand. Let your tongue run all over his balls – then sink to his perineum.

Jeongguk changes his mind, and decides that he might die, instead. "Fuck."

"Yeah?" You tease.

"Yeah," he husks. Groans as you sink ever further. Use your hands to push the undersides of his thighs back. Get a little better access. "Oh, fuck yeah."

Though the fairy lights are on, the angle prevents much light access from reaching where you are – but that just makes it even better. You're relying on guesswork and intuition. Are sloppy. Messy. Just how Jeongguk fucking likes it – and when you spit? God, he's in love . He pulls his hands apart but can't break the restraint. Or at least, he can't break it easily. If he really wanted to, he could – he just likes this far too much.

"So good," he whines. "Making me feel so good, B."

He's a panting mess of expletives and tensing muscles as you get him wetter, hotter, moanier – but it's when your tongue strokes against his tight hole that Jeongguk really loses it.

"Oh my God," he whimpers. "Oh fuck. That's it, baby. That's it."

Harsh in the way you spit, but gentle in the way your tongue laps at him, Jeongguk's never had anyone go to town for him the way that you are, nose nestled beneath his balls, tongue unrelenting against him. It could last for hours, or for just a minute or so. He couldn't tell you. Has lost his damn mind.

Breathless as you pull away, you're quick to reach for the belt. As hot as it is in theory, all you want – all you ever want – is for him to touch you. Want his hands all over you.

"Can I fuck you?" you beg, as if that's needed.

"Nah," Jeongguk says, taking you a little by surprise, but then pulls you up. Gets his lips on yours with little to no care for where they've just been. Is feral in his need for you. Grunts, " I'm gonna fuck you. Hmm. You want that, baby? You want me to fuck you?"

And who are you to refuse?

Nodding into his frantic kisses, you can't verbalise a response. All you know is that you don't want him to work you up. Don't want to play games. You just want him inside you. Are about to tell him so, when you're caught off guard by a loud, impatient meow.

"Shit," Jeongguk laughs, turning to face a rather fed-up Oduun. Sitting up on the table by the patio, his dark tail wags. Jeongguk's forgotten dinner time – and just because you were busy eating Jeongguk's ass doesn't mean Oduun is gonna wilfully miss his eating time. Might just be a cat, but deems himself far more important than either of you. Turning back to you, he winces. "Can we hold that thought?"

Laughing, you roll off of him. "Let's hold that thought."

"You're perfect," he praises, leaning across to press a kiss to your cheek, then wraps himself up in one of the blanket and darts inside to deal with Oddun as quickly as possible.

Still laughing, you take in the night sky above. Find your life these days kind of insane. Wonder how the fuck you'd explain eating Jeongguk's ass in Yoongi's back garden to a version of yourself from this time last year. Biting down on your lip, eyes just as starry as the sky above you, there's no place you'd rather be. Inside, maybe. Actually, definitely inside.

Grabbing Jeongguk's clothes, you head towards the house just as he's returning to you.

"Oh?" He asks of your movement.

"Getting cold," you say. Continue walking past, and stand on your tippy toes to whisper. "You'll get me naked far quicker inside."

He doesn't need telling twice. Locks the backdoor, and kicks a foot through the catflap to make sure Oduun can vacate the premises and not disturb you both for a second time.

Already in the spare room by the time Jeongguk arrives, you've stripped to your underwear.

It's a small room – just enough space for a bed and some handcrafted furniture. In the far corner is a standing mirror. The frame is made of the same oak that surrounds a second mirror. Far larger, as a trick to make the room appear bigger, it's on the back wall – right above the headboard.

By the foot at the bed, you're gently pulling your dishevelled ponytail out as he enters the room, the blanket still bundled around his waist.

"Hi," you whisper.

"Hey," he replies just as quietly. Lets the blanket that had been keeping his dignity preserved drop, revealing his still-hard cock for you – and you follow suit, getting to your knees. The request is clear. One that Jeongguk is happy to fulfil. Walking towards you, he loves the way you look at his body. Devour him with your eyes before your lips even get a chance.

When they do eventually wrap around his cock, Jeongguk can't help but tip his head back. Sigh a hearty moan in the atmosphere above him. Lets his hand find a home in your hair.

Promises, "Best mouth. Best fuckin' mouth."

And so you let him fuck until there are tears forming in your eyes, and you forget how to breathe.

Pulling on your hair, Jeongguk forces you away from his throbbing cock with a heavy groan. It's too much . Too good.

Panting, face completely fucked out, you barely catch your breath before running your tongue down his shaft again. Eyes on his, you let water gather in your mouth, then spit on the head of his cock and spread it with your hand.

All you want is for him to feel unreal.

As you get to your feet, Jeongguk knows the feeling is mutual.

His eyes rake up and down your body. The set you're wearing is all black – lace, sin – and as you turn around and sink into a downward position on the bed for him, he realises just how much he hates that he didn't come and pick you up earlier. Hates that other fuckers get to see how hot you are. Knows no one will have noticed you were in stockings instead of tights, but doesn't care.

Eyes trained on your ass, Jeongguk grapples with your rounded cheeks. Spanks you sharply. Notices something he didn't realise earlier. Grits, "You wore this? On the fuckin' bus?"

Smirking into the sheets, you know exactly what he's talking about. Find that he confirms it when his index finger runs down the soaked material covering your pussy. Or at least, half covers it.

If the suspenders weren't bad enough, the underwear you're wearing are keyhole detailed. Has a split right where your entrance is, as if Jeongguk needs it. Gets your panties off in 5 seconds flat, normally. Or just pushes them to the side. Whatever. Not the point. The point is that he doesn't need any assistance.

"Problem?" You smirk.

In all reality, you're not a fucking idiot. Have years of experience as a daughter sneaking in outfits far too mature for her age. Had been wearing a baggy pair of sweats on your journey to see him. Quickly got out of them at the end of Yoongi's drive. They're stuffed in the top of your bag downstairs.

"No problem," Jeongguk grits, as if there definitely is a problem. Spanks you again.

"Seems like there is a problem," you tease as his hand strokes at the area that just met his palm.

Realistically, there is no problem. Jeongguk finds it really fuckin' hot. Wishes he'd have been sat next to you, a hand on your thigh for the entire ride. Obviously, unaware of the sweats, in his head he'd have had easy access to you – and fuck, that itch for exhibitionism he seems to have these days really needs scratching.

"Ain't got no fuckin' problem," he grunts as his fingers trace the soaked opening of your underwear.

Gasping as his index finger takes full advantage of your underwear and sinks into your pussy, you're in heaven. He doesn't waste time. Inserts his middle finger too, waits a moment, and stretches you out with a third finger.

"Fuck," you grit into the sheets.

"Problem?" he echoes your teasing from earlier.

It'd make you laugh if you weren't whining like a little bitch. "No problem."

And so he picks up a little pace. Gets you mewling - but isn't gonna waste your orgasm on his fingers.

He pulls out. Knows what you want. Is gonna give it to you. Reminds you of chess, and insists that you can always say it, but you know you won't.

Jeongguk gets onto the behind you. Is on his knees. Is aware you're probably the wettest he's ever seen you, and yet he spits regardless. Just can't help himself. Spreads it with the tip of his bare cock and husks to himself, "Fuckin' made for me."

Lining himself up, he makes use of the split in your panties. Decides that just because he could get rid of them, doesn't mean he should. The head of his cock presses a kiss to your entrance as he gently teases you - and then, Jeongguk comes home.

The burn of his cock sinking into you is unlike anything else you could ever describe. Without him warming you up properly, it's so much more intense – and he knows this. Takes his slow. Warm himself inside you for a moment.

As soon as it subsides, he's pulling out just to push back in again. Grips onto your hips as he builds a pace. The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the room.

Though it's one of his favourite positions – ass guy – he rarely takes you from behind. Loves kissing you too much. Funnily enough, he also finds one of his hands stroking up your sternum until he finds your chest and cradles one of your tits in his hand. Seems like he really is greedy. Can never decide what he likes more.

"Faster," you tell him oF his pace – and he picks it up effortlessly.

"Yeah?" he grunts. "This good?"

And just because you can't help yourself, you say, "Harder."

You expect a little speed increase. Maybe a spank.

Instead, Jeongguk uses the hand on your chest to push your body up. Can feel your ass against the tops of his thighs. Doesn't need to see it – but he needs you to see what it looks like when he fucks you.

Focusing on the mirror ahead, the hand on your chest changes position. Rests around the base of your neck, now. Joins your bird. Squeezes to match the tightness of his other hand on your waist.

Face fucked out, eyes glossy and full of stars, he thinks you look absolutely beautiful. Lips pouty, there's a desperation to you. Vulnerability. An awareness that in moments like these, you do not belong to yourself.

His cock continues pounding into you, tits bouncing in the reflection. Hips pumping at a speed that you know your fingers could never rival, Jeongguk is fucking you so well you can't even talk.

Whine? Sure. But form cognitive thoughts? Absolutely not.

The entire thing is a mess; your pussy, your moans, your inability to do anything but beg him for more.

And who is he to deprive you of your pleasure?

He gets your head pressed back into the duvet. Doesn't hold it there, grabbing your hips for him thrash himself into you at a record speed, instead.

"Talking me so fuckin' well," he praises through gritted teeth, a sweat building on his skin. "Love this cunt. Mine, isn't it? Mine."

You nod. Whine in the pillows. "Yours."

"S'fuckin' right," Jeongguk curses. "All mine."

One of his hands drops from your waist and dips to your pussy. Takes ownership of it, rubbing circles against your most sensitive spots. The feeling of Jeongguk as the pads of his fingers massage you just right, tip of his cock stroke against your g-spot, is unlike anything you could ever describe. The sensation is too much to bear. Too good.

"Close," you cry out, 'cause it's all you can manage. "Gguk-"

"That's it, B. Cum for me," he begs. "Please, baby."

A few more strokes is all you last until your world begins to bloom around you; white light and the scent of Jeongguk's aftershave the only thing that fills your brain. The pleasure travels through you like electricity. From the tips of your toes to the top of your spine, it's like your body isn't yours. It really is his. All his.

It's only proven by the way your pussy tightens around him, desperately trying to milk him of his sperm as you orgasm – and he's a weak, weak man when it comes to you. Will submit to anything your body requests of him.

"B, I'm gonna-" He whimpers. Pulls out. "Where?"

Still shaky from your own orgasm, you waste no time turning, getting in position to take him in your mouth. Bob up and down his shaft, taking in the taste of yourself until the white-hot fluid begins to spurt from his cock and sink down into your throat.

His release is undignified. He curses. Praises. Holds your head. Grits, "That's it. That's it. All of it, baby. Fuck."

And when he finally pulls away, you realise you haven't been breathing the entire time. Pant. Drag him back down into the bed with you. Let his hands run all over your body, tongue licking into your mouth.

He loves this part of sex with you. Not that it's over, but that neither of you want it to end. Has never experienced such vulgar exhibitions of desire with another human being, and knows he never will. Knows that this is it for him. Anything else would just be pale in comparison.

Eventually, between giggles and pretty words of affection, you accept that the session has to finish somewhere.

"Fuckin' starving," Jeongguk laughs against your shoulder. "Worked up an appetite."

"Me too," you agree. "I showed up expecting a meal ready, but nooo-"

"B, you showed up in a fucking garter belt," he reminds you. "Ain't no way you weren't expecting to end up like this."

"True."

The night descends into a natural state of being. Jeongguk grills the meat he bought earlier, while you clear up the garden, and rearrange the flowers he'd just kinda stuck in vases. They're pretty; purple and white. No roses, you notice. It makes you smile. You know him well enough to know it was deliberate.

There's a casual chaos that comes with the combination of you, Jeongguk and access to alcohol. One drink turns into two, then two into four, and four into a bottle finished. You've been drinking whiskey with him, not because you like it, but because you wanna feel what he feels.

Jeongguk's already opening the next one by the time old-school Bieber starts playing from his playlist, because of course it does.

And because Jeongguk is Jeongguk, he repurposes the bottle as mic. Serenades you. That should be me, holding your hand. So dramatic. So ridiculous. So silly, and lovely, and everything you ever could have wanted and more from the person you call 'yours'.

That's the thing though. He is the one who holds your hand. He is the one making you laugh. It is him.

It's hard to comprehend that anyone has ever made you laugh before, because the way you giggle through his serenade, glass to your lips, eyes shying away from just how charming he is, it's like you've never felt joy before.

At least, not a joy like this. A joy like him.

Languid as he slumps into the sofa beside you once his one-man performance concludes, Jeongguk has no care for personal space. Lets his limbs rest over your body, head on your hip. Just wants to be close to you. Feel your skin. Smell your perfume. Squeezes, as he says, "Missed you."

It's such a small declaration - teeny tiny, right down to the way his pouty lips deliver it - but it feels far bigger than you're able to understand.

All you can really comprehend is that you need to let him know that he isn't alone; that you've been missing him, too. Fingers in his hair, you gently scratch his scalp.

"Yeah. Me too," you hum ever so serenely. "Missed you a lot."

It's not even been a full week, but you and Jeongguk never really go too long without seeing each other, and especially not recently. There's been an ache in your chest ever since he dropped you home on the day after the wedding.

You had both spent that morning avoiding and deflecting your friends' questions and knowing glances - but Jeongguk also never stopped touching you. Not once. A hand on the small of your back, a palm on your thigh, pinkies linked, toes tapping together, he made sure to have himself connected to you at all times.

Hayun's cold stare was ignored for the most part. Jeongguk had pretended like he didn't notice at all. You had exchanged dubious glances with Danbi whenever she laughed a little too loudly, but no issues had been made out of it.

"A lot, hmm?" Jeongguk purrs into your touch. Fucking loves it when you give him little head scratches. "How much?"

He's sweet as he asks, all smiley and serene.

"Too much," you admit.

Jeongguk hums. Is incredibly pleased with your answer. Finds that he loves being missed almost as much as he secretly enjoys missing you. Is so pleased that the way he feels is reciprocated. Isn't too sure he can ever remember feeling like this.

"You're such a softie," he teases, as if he's not snuggled up to you like a kitten, blissful in his proximity to you.

"Says you."

"Mhmm," he nods. Part of him wants to joke about how he's actually, like, always hard – but this moment isn't about that. "Could just stay like this forever."

For a short time, the idea of a life like this had terrified you. Never did you think you'd ever be happy with somebody else forming part of your identity and yet whenever you think of Jeongguk, these thoughts seem to just... vanish.

It's a whimsical, abstract way to think of Jeongguk. He's not even your boyfriend. On all technicalities, you're even sure what he's classified as. A friend, yes. A lover, yes. Yours? Well, you like to think so.

But if he's yours, then it means you're his. It's only fair.

And the thought of it makes you smile .

It's the kind of smile that persists. Is present when you're brushing your teeth together. Is present when you return to the room you lost yourself in earlier that evening. Is present when Jeongguk curls his body around yours, trapping you as the little spoon.

Is present when you wake. When he cooks breakfast. When you eat breakfast. When he eats something else entirely. When you're in the kitchen, biding time until you have to leave for work.

He's still too hungover to drive, so you're getting the bus, and honestly it's probably better that way. Will force you to behave like a human, and not like death warmed up after drinking into early hours with your boy... friend? Friend who is a boy? Jeongguk , you mentally correct yourself . After drinking into the early hours with Jeongguk.

The smile does, however, falter when you're putting milk away and notice a photobooth strip on the fridge. It's cute. A few years old. A bunch of the usual suspects after a few too many drinks - but it also includes Hayun. Suddenly it's like being dragged back to reality, as if you've been living in a dreamland for the past twelve hours.

"You know, I've been thinking, Gguk," you hum a little innocuously, as you walk back to where you had been standing against the kitchen counter.

"That's dangerous," he teases with a pretty smile. If anything, he loves it when you think. Loves that brain of yours. "Go on. Hit me. Watcha been thinking, baby?"

God , you'll never get over that.

"Firstly?" You grin, the coy look on your face enough to let him know what you're about to say is a joke. "We've gotta revert to the old rules. I can't deal with pet names."

"No?" He grins right back. Prowls across the room, setting his mug down on the counter beside you. Keeps you trapped in place with the pressure of his hips against your tummy. Holds your jaw in his strong hands, and whispers, "What about kissing?"

With a small, timid shake of your head, you beam. "No kissing, either."

As he nudges his nose down against yours, Jeongguk lets his lips delicately brush yours. "No?"

And it's funny, because you say 'no' – but then your lips press up against his, just like he knew they would.

"Your nose'll grow, Pinocchio," he tells you as he finally pulls away. Retreats, a little just to give you space to talk. Perches his ass on the kitchen table. "Does Pinocchio count as a pet name?"

Narrowing your eyes, fearful of cementing a new nickname, you simply roll your eyes and move the conversation along to your originally intended topic.

"Y'know, I actually do kinda wanna talk about rules," you say, passing his mug back over to him, just so you don't have to look him in the eye as you talk. It's an awkward topic of conversation, and not one that you've actually ever had with a partner before. Seokjin was a lawless bastard at the best of times, and you were never really that invested with anyone else. You've a vested interest in making this work with Jeongguk, though.

"Oh?" Jeongguk chirps, a little confused, but fully attentive. His big dark eyes are on you, exclusively.

"Yeah," you say a little awkwardly. Catch his gaze. Feel a little nervous. "I, uh... I guess, it's less rules, more... boundaries."

Jeongguk says nothing. Continues looking at you, gaze hard, a little difficult to read. You aren't sure if you should continue, or not, and for some reason you get a little self-conscious. Look down. Start preening the hem of the shirt you're wearing. Dressed casually for work, you're in a pair of wide-leg trousers and a black baby-tee with a slightly unhinged Ratatouille graphic printed on it.

Tight to your figure, and showing just a tiny sliver of skin between the hem and the waistband of your trousers, Jeongguk had been incredibly perplexed by it. Found the shirt hilarious, but the silhouette of the fit unbearably sexy. It's a miracle he was able to pull away from you just moments earlier.

Though your feet are currently bare, a pair of socks and your Converse are waiting by the front door. The glitter on your cheeks is residual. It needs a top-up. A fresh layer of war paint.

"Like, I just mean- " you cut yourself off. Groan. Tip your head back and look to the ceiling as if that will help – and then decide you just have to bite the bloody bullet. Focusing on him again, you continue, "Look, we both know what we want – but if there's any chance in hell this is gonna work between us, I need you to know my boundaries with Hayun."

Jeongguk shuffles in his seat ever so slightly, but his expression remains largely unchanged. If anything, the lines between his brows just get a little deeper. The hardness of his gaze implores you to keep talking, but his silence makes you nervous.

Ever since Seokjin, and meeting Jeongguk, you've been trying to make sense of why you let yourself be treated so terribly for so long.

While the blame, you think, lies largely with Seokjin, you admittedly had agency over yourself in the early days. The boundary walls of acceptable behaviour had been waltzed over by Seokjin, and instead of rebuilding them and standing strong, you'd allowed him to knock them down entirely.

By the time the desperation and the self-loathing had kicked in, it was too late to rebuild. The bricks had become but rubble. Dust. Ash.

You're ashamed, when you think about it, now. It's embarrassing how little respect you had for yourself – but you also know it wasn't entirely your fault. Love, or our misconstrued perceptions of it, can do strange things to our understanding of the world and our place in it.

"Okay," Jeongguk says, a little unsure of what you're asking of him. "I've already told her to stop crossing them."

You nod, understanding that he's had conversations with her, but they're irrelevant.

Boundaries are personal. Like your own special little fence.

You like to think of yours being wooden. Painted white, with a little gate, that you'll use to let Jeongguk in. Vines twirling around the beams. Quaint, but fragile.

Beyond that first fence, the radius a little wider, would be another. And then another, and another. It's up to you to decide who gets access to which parts of you – and you don't think Hayun deserves any access whatsoever. If she encroaches on a boundary, you'll rebuild it with brick.

Likewise, it's up to Jeongguk what boundaries he sets with her. You're not gonna dictate that. If he makes the choice to have her in his life, then fine. So be it – but you don't want to share a boundary space with her. Need a little distance. A couple walls.

If he lets her into the final, central circle? You won't force her out, but you also won't choose to stay there, either.

"And I appreciate that Gguk, I do," you say softly, knowing that he really has tried. "But this time last week, she was telling our friends that you were gonna fuckin' marry her."

The memory has stuck to you like the scent of a skunk: unbearable and unpleasant and impossible to remove.

"B, I had no control over that," Jeongguk's frown grows deeper. Feels like you're blaming him, as if he is solely responsible for her – which he thinks couldn't be further from the truth. Wants nothing to do with her, and has made it abundantly clear already.

"I know." And you really do know. It's not his fault, and you know this. You know it's an issue within her – but you also know it's an issue facilitated by the lack of boundaries he's had with her in the past, and how much he's let her get away with before. If he wants change, he has to implement it. "But I don't want that kind of energy thrown in my face every time I hang out with our mutual friends."

"I can't just tell her to stop being friends with people, B," he quickly replies – and you understand this too, but it's not the point you're trying to get across.

You've never tried to explain your thought process when it comes to boundaries, and it's coming out all clunky and confusing. You can't articulate it in a way that conveys what you want it to.

If you were to sit and think for a while, it would be simple: your boundaries don't dictate what other people should do, but instead they dictate your acceptance of their behaviour.

You are the only person you have any control over, and you'd like it to stay that way. Remember Jiyeong, and her inability to communicate her boundaries with Jeongguk, and how toxic their relationship ended up becoming. You never want to be like that.

"That's not what I'm saying, Gguk," you sigh, pushing your grown-out fringe off your face and shaking your hair out a little. You're anxious, and it's showing in how you're uncertain of your appearance. Insecure. "She's treated me with nothing but contempt since I met her, and if I'm being honest, you blurred the lines of what was and wasn't okay. You gave her the green light to treat me like shit, because – and don't take offence to this – she saw you treating me like shit, all the while saying you care about me."

You both know exactly what incident you're talking about, even if you don't want to say it out loud: the kiss.

Jeongguk wanted to talk about it at the time when it first happened, but you were so closed off that he barely got the chance. Thinks that you have to talk things out instead of bottling them up. Reckons if you'd have let him address it fully months ago, then this would be a non-issue, now.

"It was one kiss," Jeongguk defends himself, knowing that he shouldn't have let it happen, but also a little hurt that you're using it against him.

If he could take it back, he would – but he can't. It's just something you both have to accept happened if you want this to work out.

"Don't downplay it," you counter, far sterner in your tone than you mean to be. Catch yourself before you curse him out for it. Realise that maybe you're harbouring a little more resentment than you thought you did. "Anyway, that's not the point here – although, maybe it is a little bit. I don't know. I'd be fucking gutted if it happened again."

Jeongguk is quiet as his tense jaw grates together. He looks down. Scoffs a little. Shakes his head, tongue flicking against the inside of his cheek.

"Really?" He looks up towards you, icy in his gaze. "You think I'd fuckin' cheat?"

"No," you quickly reply, not wanting to fight but desperately trying to make him understand how your brain works. "But like, I didn't think you'd kiss her when you did the first time. And I sure as hell didn't think you'd show up at my place to fuck me without telling me. So, no, I don't think you'd cheat Gguk, but..."

Jeongguk turns away, his broad back littered with scratches from your nails during his second breakfast. He's a sight to behold - yet as he begins to pace a little, you wish you could look anywhere else other than at him.

"So let me get this straight," he eventually says. Sniffs back emotion he doesn't wanna let show. Turns to face you. Is visibly disgruntled, but not crying. "If we were together, you wouldn't trust me not to cheat on you? After everything? That's what you think of me?"

"That's not it," you insist, knowing you're making a right pig's ear of this all. You never think he'd intentionally do anything to hurt you. Trust him with your life. "I just need to establish clear boundaries because I can't go through the shit I went through again-"

"Will you stop equating me to him ?!" Jeongguk snaps, cutting you off. He doesn't mean to speak quite so loudly, but fuck . Seokjin has been the bane of his life for months. "I'm not him . I haven't done the shit he's done. I would never do that-"

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd kiss Hayun-"

"And I fucking showed up at your door-"

"And withheld the truth, Gguk, before fucking me," you shout back, not letting him interrupt this time. Yep. Definitely harbouring resentment . He's not incapable of doing you wrong. Jeongguk isn't perfect, and you don't expect him to be – but you also don't expect him to be so bloody defensive when the whole point of the conversation is to strengthen your partnership. "But this isn't about that. It's about her , and the fact she has zero respect for me, alright? I need to hold firm boundaries with her, and I need a partner who does the same, otherwise my life is gonna be fucking miserable. If I'm constantly made to feel like I'm playing second fiddle to her, then what's the fucking point in any of this?"

It's a little harsher than you mean for it to be, but at least you're finally starting to make some sense.

"What's the point?" Jeongguk quickly repeats your words with a laugh, but it's filled with no joy. "B, if you think so poorly of me that I can't be trusted around her, then what the fuck are we even trying for? Just say you don't trust me and be done with it."

"That's not what I'm saying," you snap right back, confused at why he's being so guarded about something you thought you were on the same page about. Don't you both want to make this work? Does he not feel this way about Seokjin, too? And you find yourself annoyed; blood hot, fuse short. "But you know what, fine . If the idea of not being able to be best buddies with Hayun is getting you this riled up, then maybe we should just sack this in altogether."

" Best buddies? Really?" Jeongguk sneers, disgusted by the insulation he views Hayun as anything like that – which only confuses you even further. Why bother getting so irate if he really doesn't shit? Why argue? "That's not what I'm saying. You're twisting my words."

"And you're twisting mine!" You scoff in disbelief. This was never about your ability to trust him, and if he's taking it as that, then perhaps it should give you reason not to trust him. If the roles were reversed, you'd have been doing everything in your power to reassure him.

Jeongguk thinks he's spent months doing that regardless, and that you're just dismissing it all. Thinks all his hard work had been for nothing.

"You know what, Gguk? Whatever. I've gotta go to work, so you can sit with yourself and think about what an asshole you're being, and then get back to me when you realise I've got a fucking point."

"B-"

"No," you dismiss as you walk to the entryway. You know he was supposed to be taking you to work, but frankly you don't want to be in a car with him. Would much rather take the bus. "This is important to me. Get your head outta your arse and just think about it. If you give a shit-"

"You know I give a shit."

"- then the least you'd do is respect the point I'm trying to get across. I'm not saying you can't be friends, but I am saying I'm not gonna stick around to see it."

And it's the truth. You'll never give him an ultimatum, but you will stop him from being able to choose you full stop. He's the one who helped you realise your self-worth and nurture it back to health. If you weren't arguing, he'd be proud of how assertive you're being.

Jeongguk thinks this is fuckin' stupid. He doesn't need an ultimatum. It's you who he'll choose, and the fact that you can't see that makes him want to scream into the abyss.

"You can't just leave in the middle of this," he says as he follows after you. "Like what the fuck, B?"

You're already in your socks, though, stuffing your feet into your Converse, fingers fast as they wrap the laces around your ankles.

"I've gotta go to work."

"I'll drive."

"No," you say firmly, looking up towards him. "You're hungover, and I need to cool off, or else I'll say shit that'll ruin this."

He shakes his head. Scoffs.

"You don't think calling me an inevitable cheater, saying you don't trust me and that you think I've got the backbone of a jellyfish classifies as shit that'll ruin things?" He spits.

Well, when he puts it like that...

"That's not what I said-"

"Yeah, it fuckin' was."

"Fine," you snap, tying a double knot on the bow around your ankle and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "But you're letting this conversation fall apart for the sake of her, which is exactly why boundaries are needed. If you can't see that, then we really do have no hope, Jeongguk."

"I'm not-"

Voice loud and incredibly final, you look him dead in the eyes as you say, "You are. I need some space."

You don't kiss him goodbye. Don't even say it. Just unlatch the door and head down Yoongi's driveway with a face of thunder, and thoughts in your head to match.

Part of you thinks he'll chase after you. Part of you wants him to, just so you can tell him to go fuck himself. Part of you just wants him to say sorry, and that you're right, and that he wants this to work.

Mostly, you just want space. Spend the entire bus journey into town wondering how the fuck it got to the point that it did. By the time you reach your stop, your cheeks are pink from the frequency of you clearing silent tears from them. It's all so fucked .

You're stubborn at the best of times, and Jeongguk lets his agitation get the better of him. Your stubbornness is partially why you're so dismissive of your feelings – because as soon as you stand your ground, you know you won't stop. Will scratch the issue until it bleeds.

Jeongguk knows this, too, and is usually so good with it, able to remedy your woes and also get you thinking clearly – but on the rare occasions when you hit him where it hurts, he gets defensive. Defends and defends and defends. Doesn't even know what he's fighting for a lot of the time.

This time is different. As he starts up the shower in Yoongi's place, he's numb to the scalding heat of the water. Wants the feeling of the fight off his skin – but the way he's interpreted your remarks has stained him in the colour of words that he detests. Cheat. Untrustworthy. They sink into his skin like tattoo ink, but the needle goes too deep. Will leaves scars.

And in the midst of his confused hurt, Jeongguk convinces himself that not even a kiss from you would heal them.

The damage is done.

"You're off tomorrow, right?" Hoseok asks, as if he hasn't double-checked the rota three times already this morning. Has been pacing in the supply room, sending voice notes to Namjoon for the past fifteen minutes when he should have been on his break.

"Look, just ask her, " Namjoon's deep drawl had echoed into Hoseok's headphones. "He's miserable, she's miserable, and I don't know about you, but if I have to see him pout like a little baby one more time, I'm gonna lose my mind."

It's a Thursday. Nearly a full week on since you left Jeongguk at Yoongi's place. Had shown up for that first shift full of smiles, and perfectly fine, but every time Hoseok caught you in a moment of quiet contemplation, he could tell something wasn't right. Eventually got the truth out of you yesterday, after his playlist reached the songs he'd saved from the weekend in Pohang. Had never seen you pout quite so pathetically – and especially not to a fucking Justin Bieber song.

"He just got so defensive," you'd sighed during the close-down of the shift, relaying your truth of the events to Hoseok. "And, like, I'm not doing it again. I'm not gonna be made to feel second best."

Which Hoseok finds funny, 'cause when he messaged Namjoon about the predicament, he learned that Jeongguk had been moping around just as pathetically. Asked to go for dinner with the boys not once but twice. Didn't wanna be alone, but also didn't tell them why - as if any of them needed clarification, when he was practically in mourning. It was as if he'd lost the most important person in his life.

It's for this reason that Hoseok knows Jeongguk would never consider you second best. Doesn't think there's anyone in second place, full stop. It's you. That's it.

"Tomorrow?" You hum. "Don't know."

It's a lie. You just don't really wanna be dragged into plans. Know that where Hoseok goes recently, Namjoon will surely follow, and you'd quite like to avoid any and all Dionysus boys.

"You are," Hoseok replies, 'cause he's not gonna try and beat blood from a stone. "Me and Danbi wanna go out."

"So go out."

"No," he laughs. "We want to go out with you. Haven't been out-out in ages."

"'Cause we're getting old," you remind him. "We aren't young, spritely spring chickens anymore. Closer to thirty than we are twenty."

"Which is exactly why we should go out," he insists. "One night. I'll buy your drinks."

He expects resistance. Expects push back. Doesn't expect you to say, "Pay for my entry, too, and you've got a deal."

You both know he won't be paying entry. Both know where you're gonna go. It's where you always go. Haven't been paying entry for well over a year, now. Have rarely paid for drinks, either. Not when Jeongguk is behind the bar, at least. The magic of Dionysus and the men who serve it.

It's funny, when you think about those first few nights, now. Unbelievable how much has changed.

As much as you may deny it, you want to see Jeongguk. Want to look in those starry eyes of his and stop your heart from feeling the way it does. Will take his annoyance and his upset, and accept that maybe he doesn't want to talk to you, because, despite it all, you know that being with him is the only thing that's gonna make you feel okay.

Whether he's behind the bar or on the dancefloor, he's your safety zone – and given how much you've cried in private and failed to produce believable smiles in public during the last week, you know you need him.

"Deal."

On your way home, you consider sending through a message to your derelict direct messages with Jeongguk. Haven't really spoken since you left the Min's place. Didn't really have anything to say. A few videos have been shared, but you haven't watched any of them out of protest, and not wanting to smile when it comes to him.

You've typed and deleted countless messages – Wtf is happening with us? I miss you :( Why r u ignoring me? Can't believe I ate ur ass and this is how u repay me. Ungrateful !!! – thinking that he should really be the one to reach out first.

And so you don't text.

Thing is, you know that if you end up at Dionysus (which you will) he deserves a little warning first. Eventually cave on your way back from running errands the next morning.

You : Heads up - going out tonight. Might go to the bar. Tell me if you'd rather I didn't.

Punching in the digits of your apartment door code, you almost jump out of your skin when your phone begins to vibrate. Slightly longer than usual, you know it's a call coming through. "Shit."

The caller ID confirms who it is – and despite your annoyance at the sight his stupid, beautiful face on the ID photo, you answer regardless.

"Hello?" You question, phone to your ear, as if your heart isn't beating out of your chest.

There's static coming through the speaker, the sound of Jeongguk's foot on the accelerator echoing into the room around you. Must be driving. You've half a mind to tell him to hang up – but you know he uses hands-free, and honestly you don't want him to go.

"Hey."

The greeting is sharp, like a knife to your chest – but the sound of his voice is so soothing, that you aren't able to comprehend the way that you feel.

"Wassup?" You ask, heading straight to your room, giving Danbi a panicked look of desperation as you walk past.

"Finallyyyyy," Danbi whisper-cheers, knowing you must be talking to Jeongguk. Wants to bang your heads together. Thinks you're both stupid.

"You're going out?"

"Mhmm," hum into the receiver of your phone. "Probably gonna end up in Dionysus. Just wanted to give you a heads up." An awkward silence lingers between you. "Or the chance to tell me not to come."

"Why would I do that?"

"Cause we aren't talking," you state all rather plainly.

"No," he corrects. "You asked for space."

In fact, he'd say you set a boundary. Thinks that he's respecting it. Just like you asked him to.

"Well," you say awkwardly. "Just let me know if you'd rather I went elsewhere."

"If you wanna go to Dionysus, go to Dionysus," Jeongguk says, as if he doesn't give a fuck what you do – then adds, "I'll tell Yeonjun to make sure you're on my tab."

"Yeonjun?" You question. "Won't-"

"I'm not in tomorrow," he cuts you off. In the static, you hear his engine cut off. "Look, I'm just home from Yoongi's. Got shit to do. Laundry and stuff."

"They're back?" You pout, sitting on your bed. There's a deflated nature to your posture. Don't understand why he's being so short with you.

"They're back." He confirms. Sighs, then decides the conversation is done. "Talk later."

"Yeah," you say quietly. "Talk later."

And you know it's stupid, and that you shouldn't read into things, but Jeongguk's shortness with you is devastating. The lack of 'B' tacked on to the ends of his sentences. The surface-level statements given without explanation.

When the line goes dead, you toss your phone down. Do nothing much for a good few minutes, until Danbi appears at the door and says, "I hear we're going out?"

When you glance towards her, and nod, you find that the movement of your head makes the tears on your lashline spill over.

"Oh, my love," she sighs, hurrying over to join you on your bed and engulf you in the biggest hug she can. "He's just a boy. Just a stupid, silly boy."

"So stupid," you agree, and let yourself cry a little bit more. "The stupidest."

"Big stupid head," she childishly agrees. "With stupid shirts that are far too big for him."

You laugh, but shake your head. "I love his stupid big shirts."

"I know," she nods, stroking your hair. Knows that half the clothes on your desk chair are his aforementioned shirts. "But it was the only thing I could think of."

For all his idiocy, Danbi knows that Jeongguk adores you. Will wait to see if he redeems himself before launching into a Seokjin adjacent tirade. That being said, she does also add, "Y'know what'd make life better?"

"What?" You sniff.

"Dump him."

Now this really does make you laugh – because how can you dump a man who hasn't even asked you to be his girlfriend?

"C'mon," Danbi says. "If you're gonna cry, at least do it after you've done your makeup. Hot mess style. You can poke me in the eyes so that we both cry. Power in hot mess girl numbers."

Dubious as you may be, you know Danbi is right. A night off with your friends, not thinking about Jeongguk (especially now that you know he won't be at Dionysus) feels like exactly what you need.

"Alright," you nod, as Danbi wipes away the straw tears on your cheeks. Smile, because that's what you should be doing. "Drink?"

"Always."

Dionysus never changes much.

From the sticky black floor and the strobe lights that repeat the same patterns week in, week out, the thing that changes most frequently is the crowd. Fridays are always a little lairy. Mainly a young crowd, it's the sort of people who spend all week looking forward to the weekend. Are too desperate to wait for Saturday to roll in.

Or, alternatively, they're people like you, who just wanna drown the week out. Wanna hold their best friends' hands in the crowd, and drink shitty drinks, and dance to even shittier songs.

There's a heat that comes with Friday nights in Dionysus. Desperation. Debauchery. Lost in the crowd, it's freeing to know a sea of strangers have no idea who you are. They'll never look at you and think of you as a disco ball.

Sure, they'll notice your sparkle, but they'll never look at you the way Jeon Jeongguk does.

Not like he's doing right now.

Tucked in the corner booth with his friends, he's ignoring their conversation, fully engrossed in the way your body moves. How your skin glows. The way you and Danbi become so intimate in your embrace that he finds himself getting agitated. Has half a mind to go and fucking interrupt. Make his presence known. Assert some fucking boundaries of his own.

You make him restless.

You, and your four-inch heels that he knows you're gonna be carrying by the end of the night. You, and the all-black outfit that has no impact on how you shine. You, and the glitter all over your skin, sparkling in the flashing lights of the club.

He sees you. Can't hear your laugh, but can imagine it as you hold onto Hoseok's arm, leaning across to say something in his ear.

Jeongguk's never cared for closeness in clubs. He's a bartender. Knows that it's needed to hear one another above the crowd. Also knows Hoseok, and how even if he was the last man on earth, you'd both let civilisation die out. Knows Danbi, and adores your friendship with her. He's not jealous because he thinks anything will happen – he's jealous because he misses you.

All he wants to do is join you. Not take you away.

Wants to share a drink with you. To hold your hand. To get covered in glitter, and have everyone in this god damn shit hole of a club knowing he belongs to you.

"Oi," Jimin grabs Jeongguk's attention. Holds up his cup. Knocks his towards the direction of the bar. "Another?"

Jeongguk's uncertain whether Jimin is deliberately trying to distract him or not, but he nods. Follows Jimin without a word. Is glad to be away from his circle. Is frustratingly anxious to be looking away from you. Can feel the heat of your starlight fading with every step closer to the bar.

Namjoon was the one to suggest the night out a couple of days ago. Jeongguk had refused – and yet by some miracle, earlier this afternoon, he changed his tone. Seemed to think going out was a great idea.

With Yoongi and Seoyeon home, he doesn't have to check on Oduun, and so he plans on drinking himself silly. It's been too long since he last got legless.

All the usual suspects are here – Jimin, Tae, Joon – and a few acquaintances that he's not too close with. He's vaguely aware of Hayun and Nabi being out tonight too, but hasn't seen either of them yet. Is hoping they'll have enough sense to go elsewhere. Has taken Hayun's name off the guestlist just in case. It won't stop her from entering, but it does mean she'll have to pay the entrance fee for the first time in her life. Hopes she'll take it as a hint.

Glancing back over to you, he sees you in conversation with some guy he doesn't know. Decides he doesn't wanna watch whatever happens next.

"Y'know what," Jeongguk says, patting Jimin's arm. "I need some air. Catch you in a bit."

He leaves before Jimin gets a chance to reply. Just heads to the smoking area. Needs a second to himself. To think. To breathe. To let his mind stop screaming for a split second. To stop himself from staring at you.

He's got Tae's cigarettes in his pocket from a smoke earlier in the evening, and fully intends on playing finders keepers with them. Hopes they'll give him a distraction, the heavy smoke lining his airways. Will coat the rotten feelings of his insides.

But even distractions from you end up as reminders. He thinks of the first night; the cigarettes tucked into your clutch, and how he rarely ever sees you smoke. Thinks you've got the kind of personality to foster addictions, and yet it's not one that's ever stuck. He also thinks you're incredibly disciplined, though. Stubborn. Is probably why you never let the habit consume you.

Not like he let the habit of you consume him. He's utterly ruined. Will never be the same.

"Got a light?" A sweet voice interrupts his thoughts of you, and he's left feeling bitter.

If there's one thing about Hayun, it's that she knows how to turn heads. Any other guy in the smoking area would choke on their toke trying to accommodate her needs as quickly as possible. Her maraschino cherry red lips are just as pouty as they usually are, her eyes wide to feign an innocence that doesn't align with the rest of her exterior.

Jeongguk says nothing. Inhales. Doesn't look at her. Passes across the box of cigarettes, where a lighter is tucked in the corner. Exhales as Hayun flicks up the box lid, and nimbly lights up the cigarette between her lips. Was given the cigarette by some other guy in the smoking area. Is good at that; getting what she wants.

Or at least, she was.

Jeongguk could fill the silence between them, but he doesn't care to. There's a twinge in his chest. Regret for facilitating Hayun's needs. Your words about boundaries ring in his ears. Was a small, simple gesture with no thought behind it – and he realises that's exactly the issue.

All he can think about is you.

He knows that him being with her right now is exactly the kind of thing that's only gonna prove your point; prove you right.

Strangely, part of him wants it to. Wants you to come for a smoke, or for air, or to look for him - and he wants you to find him.

Wants it, not to hurt you, nor to prove you right.

But to simply spark an argument; to make you give him an ultimatum, and for him to be able to simply choose you . Finally, and irrevocably.

For him to show you that you are his priority. You're the one that he wants. That Hayun's existence has no bearing on how he feels about you. That he just treats her like an acquaintance, and that he's not the monster you made him feel like he was.

It's a flawed logic, mind you. You'll never give him an ultimatum.

If you were to enter the smoking area, you'd understand that his choice is to spend time with her when he could be with you instead. Would view it as confirmation that you were right – and like you said, your boundaries are about you and your behaviour. He can do what he likes. Just means you won't let him come crawling back to you.

You're both drunk, and sensible rationalities evade you. It would be a disaster if you were to find him, now.

"Really got a bee in your bonnet, don't you, buddy?" Hayun tries to joke. It's a different kind of bee, granted, but she regrets saying it almost immediately.

He just hums in response. Knows he's being a little rude. Hope she'll take the hint, and bugger off.

Nearly six months since her return, Hayun still hasn't grasped the fact that the Jeongguk she used to know doesn't exist anymore. The boy who fawned after her for endless summers withered away, and in place grew someone new. They share a vessel, but their brain chemistry couldn't be more different.

He's not sure if it's the drink, or the smoke, or her, or you, but he feels nauseous. Stubs out his cigarette.

Hayun doesn't particularly want him to leave. Wants to see if she scratches away the surface, she'll find her old friend again.

"God, you're tense," she laughs. A few years ago, he'd have melted into the sound like butter on hot pancakes - but now it just makes him feel empty. "You not getting laid, or something?"

In another circumstance, with any person, Jeongguk might laugh. Might agree.

But he knows this is exactly what you meant when you said that you don't trust her to know where the boundaries are. Knows that he's tried to implement them before - and that she's waltzing her back over them once again. That they need to be rebuilt with brick.

Jeongguk is curt as he says, "Thought I told you not to ask shit about my sex life."

"Oh come on," she laughs. "It's just a joke."

"Well, am I fuckin' laughing, Hayun?" Jeongguk snaps. The volume of the music from the club obscures his question, but she hears him loud and clear. She says nothing. Looks at him with disgruntled surprise, but remains quiet. "Is it funny ?"

She considers keeping her mouth shut - but she's not gonna let him speak to her like that.

"Honestly?" she scoffs, bitter and scornful in her unspoken feelings towards the situation at hand. "Yeah. Yeah, Gguk, it is. It's fucking hilarious that you're pretending like you're some perfect couple when apparently she can't even keep you satisfied in the easiest fucking way. It's hilarious ."

Though she doesn't say it, her words are layered; a subtle suggestion that she knows how to satisfy him.

"And you could?" He laughs, now. Doesn't mean to be cruel, but he's reached his limit. Is still so fucking hurt that you practically said you expected him to cheat on you – with someone like Hayun, of all people. Makes him feel so disgusting. So ugly. And so kindness evades him.

"You're forgetting that I did ," she retorts. "For years , I did. You've known her all of five minutes and you're already unsatisfied, so don't give me this bullshit-"

"Hayun, you've got no fucking idea," Jeongguk spits. He could get vulgar, if he wanted to. Could tell her, in quite some detail, how the warmth of your lips is all that he needs to keep him alive through winter; how you giggle after every single climax, and how he knows it's gonna be the thing he hears on his fucking death bed. He could tell her how sometimes, his hands go numb from how intensely he comes undone for you; how his brain fails to control itself. Instead, he says, "She is the best thing that's ever happened to me. Do you not get that? She is it . I was never that for you, so I don't know why you're trying to make out like I'm sacrificing something that we never were. It's so fucking boring. Are you not tired?"

"Well, then why the fuck are you hell-bent on proving to me how much she means to you?" She scoffs. Is feline in the way her posture stiffens. "Why do you care more about keeping up appearances for me , instead of actually making things right with her? Why the fuck are you not with her? Why are you not official?"

"Because-"

"Because you're a scared little boy," she seethes, secretly revelling in the heat beneath his temper. Knew he still had a little passion left in him, and is glad to welcome it home. Knows that a fight always preluded their best bedroom sessions together. "Because if you make things official with her, then that writes off any chance you have with me. You're still holding out for me, and we both know it."

Of all the deranged things she's ever said, this is first time Jeongguk is speechless. Shakes his head in disbelief. Wonders how much coke she must have done up in Seoul to fuck with her head this badly.

"You're actually fucking deluded, aren't you?" He contorts his face, utterly stunned by how her brain works - but then realises this is exactly what you mean. The boundaries have nothing to do with Jeongguk or his feelings for you, but her inability to understand them. "You know what," he laughs. "Fuck this. This is the last time I'll have this conversation with you. Accept it or don't, but this is where it ends, Hayun. Keep the cigarettes. Don't ask me for shit ever again."

"Gguk," she calls after him as he heads towards the bar once more. He continues walking. Shakes her head. Thinks he's the deluded one. Mutters under her breath, "Fucking nutcase."

She's about to stub her cigarette out – had only been smoking as an excuse to get close to Jeongguk – when someone else fills his space.

Far smaller in stature, Danbi is just as imposing as the man she's replacing.

Though she's quiet, Danbi is incredibly direct as she scathes, "Is it really worth it?"

"Is what worth what ?"

"Constantly embarrassing yourself. Is it worth it? Do you reckon it'll win you Jeongguk back?" Danbi mocks. "'Cause from where I'm standing, it's not just him you're alienating."

Hayun says nothing. Takes a toke on her cigarette. Shrugs.

She knows she shouldn't speak on behalf of other people, but Danbi's been holding back for months. Has a little too much liquor in her bloodstream to bother being kind. Only came outside to look for you, when she stumbled across enough entertainment to rival a TLC show. That's gotta be it. Hayun must be the subject of a hidden camera show. It's the only way to explain how out of touch she is.

"Jimin is sick to his back teeth of you," she says, knowing that this won't be news Hayun. "And Tae was so fucking pleased when you showed up at New Years – but every single time since then, he's hoped you'd be a no-show."

Now this does irritate Hayun. She laughs. "I've known Tae-"

"You think I give a shit how long you've known him?" Danbi interrupts her. "Just as long Nabi, right? And have I ever taken issue with her?" The question is rhetoric. Danbi answers it herself. "No. I haven't. I respect her, as his friend, and she respects me as his girlfriend."

"So what?" Hayun scoffs. "What's your point Danbi? The situations are entirely different."

"My point is, if Nabi even thought about treating me like shit, it doesn't matter how long Tae's known her – he'd kick her to the curb. History doesn't mean shit when it comes to the person you wanna spend the rest of your life with." There's a strength to Danbi's words. A promise. You? You're Jeongguk's future. "Nabi wants to be in his life, so she's cool with me, and I'm cool with her in return - so what the fuck are you playing at? You're not even cool with Jeongguk. He's told you to sling your hook and yet-"

"You never knew us before," Hayun fights back. The cigarette in her hand is nearly entirely burnt out. "So history does count for something, because-"

"Before doesn't matter!" Danbi stresses. "Don't you get that? Do you not see what you're doing to the present day? How it's gonna affect the future? From what I know, Hayun, you tore him apart – and it's that girl in there, the one you show the utmost contempt, that put him back together. And when she did?" Danbi laughs, as if it's the most joyous thing in the world. "Oh, she reconfigured him. You reap what you sow, and you planted no goddamn seeds in the mess that you made – so take your empty satchel, and go find some other fucking farm. There's nothing here for you."

With that, Danbi leaves. Has nothing more to say to her. Has a disgusting taste in her mouth, partially from the secondhand smoke but mainly from her sheer distaste for Hayun.

Alone, Hayun purses her lips. Tosses the cigarette to the ground, and stubs it out with her foot. A boy from across the smoking area begins to advance towards her, but she scowls. "Piss off."

Her pride is hurt, and she's gonna need some time to lick her wounds. Holding up his hands, the boy retreats. Goes back to his friends, who laugh and joke at his expense. Beside them, a group of girls are consoling one of their friends. It's unclear what the problem is, but Hayun's pretty whatever the girl is crying about can't be any worse than what's making her feel all horrible on the inside – and yet there's no one there to comfort her. No one to tell her that Jeongguk's being stupid, or that Danbi is a bitch.

Because Danbi is right; there really is nothing left for her here.

And she's got no one but herself to blame.

Back inside, Danbi comes to join you as you're having your very own devastating conversation by the bar. "You're kidding me?!"

"Afraid not," Yeonjun grimaces. " Someone -"You know full well he means Jeongguk. "-didn't order last week's stock when he was supposed to, so we're running low on a few things. No starfuckers tonight."

Oh, it's terrible news. The worst thing you've heard tonight. Not the worst thing you've seen , 'cause you saw Hayun follow Jeongguk out to the smoking area, and that's definitely the winner there. Is also why you'd decided that purple starfuckers were very much needed.

"Watcha want instead?" Yeonjun asks, then leans a little further over the bar to lower his voice. "Look, between us –"he glances across to Jeongguk, who's recently returned to the booth his friends are in. "- if you're on his tab, which you are, you should go for something worthy of a bar tab. Hoseok's been drinking fuckin' Bacardi all night. Not worth it. Go big. Go for the Grey Goose."

And this is exactly why Jeongguk needs Yeonjun on his team when he sets up the restaurant. Is a people person. Can read rooms. Knows that you and Jeongguk must be in mard with one another. Also knows you need to talk, and that the best way to ensure that, is a little liquid confidence.

"Vodka lime soda," you grin.

"Grey goose?"

You don't vocalise it, but you do nod.

"Attagirl," Yeonjun grins. It also means it'll be put through on his sales record, and give him higher stats. Really is win-win situation (apart from Jeongguk's wallet when he eventually settles his tab, even with his discount). "Double?"

"Double."

"What about you Danbi?" Yeonjun calls back.

Wrapping her arms around your neck, so awfully pleased to have someone like you as her best friend, she grins. "Whatever's the most expensive liquor you have. Make it a double."

"Jeongguk's tab?"

"Well, he's gotta be good for something," she teases, and when you laugh, she gives you a big squeeze. Sways your bodies. Whispers, "Just ripped Hayun a new one."

"Lucky her," you laugh.

Despite the heat of the club, the knowledge of her presence makes you so terribly cold. Puts you on edge. Makes you wanna hide – and there's no better place for that than a club crowd.

"C'mon," you grin as if you don't have a care in the world once Yeonjun serves up your drinks. "Let's go."

Lost in what it feels like to be alive, you disregard the way you can feel Jeongguk's gaze burning into you.

He looks heavenly in flannel shirts; the closest thing you'll ever get to an angel in real life. Eyes dark, sin is embedded in the ridges of his frown, but you suppose it's apt. Even Lucifer was an angel, once. The Lord's favourite, if your memories of high school religion classes serve you right. Fitting .

You suppose it's not really a surprise. You don't think you've ever been confronted with a version of Jeon Jeongguk that you wouldn't worship; wouldn't sacrifice your sanity for.

Eyes on his, you let the crowd do its thing. He takes a sip on his drink. The guy behind you is getting a little too close for Jeongguk's liking. He mouths the word 'careful ' at you.

But you don't think Jeongguk was being particularly careful when he let Hayun follow him to the smoking area - so you shrug your shoulders. Turn away. Have no intention of doing anything with this man. Will dip in a minute. Just wanna piss Jeongguk off.

And it seems to work, given the familiar grip around your wrist not even thirty seconds later. The scent of his aftershave intrudes on your senses, and the flannel of his shirt greets you as he storms ahead, leading you through the crowd and out to the lobby area.

You're quick on your feet as you teeter behind him, Jeongguk's pace far too impatient for your heels. Though his grip on your wrist is firm, you know if you were to pull back, he'd let you - but why would you? Why would you free yourself of his shackles, when all you want is to be his? Unashamedly, and irrevocably, his.

Anyone who cared to glance your way might show concern, Jeongguk's face of thunder and your open willingness to let him drag you around not exactly the most healthy display of affection. In fact, if you were to see a girl in the same position, you know you'd interrupt. Pretend to be her friend. Get her away from the guy.

And so you smile. Giggle, a little tipsy, and certain that it will look far less sinister. It seems to work, because you're unbothered as Jeongguk punches in a door code and hauls you into a room by the entrance. Lined with coats and bags, you've only ever seen this room through a small hatch at the far end, where a guy you don't recognise has turned to face his off-duty manager with taut perplexion.

"Out," Jeongguk growls at the guy standing by the cloakroom window.

"But-"

"Out."

Like a dog with his tail between his legs, the guy does as he's told.

The overhead lights are warm, and the room is far cosier than you'd expect thanks to all of the soft fabrics hanging on the rails around the wall. Pinned to each jacket is a little raffle ticket. You've one in the back of your phone, that matches the ticket pinned to your coat. A little archaic, the system works. No point in fixing what isn't broken.

Jeongguk really could not care less about the system, or people needing to get their coats as he drags you around the corner of the L-shaped room. He could close the hatch up at the front of the room, but it's against club protocol. Can't keep people's possessions hostage. Will just listen out in case the bell by the hatch goes.

This corner keeps you obscured from the hatch. No one can see beyond the turn, and even if they could, you're right in the corner. Are concealed by the overflowing coats that hang around you.

The smile you had plastered on your face is dead and gone. You're staring Jeongguk out, the whites of your eyes present against your lashline, a scowl resting on your sparkling features.

"The fuck was that about?" You spit, arms crossing over your chest.

There's a searing anger burning through your body; at Jeongguk for how he's behaving, and at yourself for how you're behaving. You know it's destructive. You know no good can come from a fight. That's it's stupid to be pissing him off just because he pissed you off.

You should rise above it - but you're drunk and sad, and all you really want is for things to be okay. That's what you're really fighting with, the idea of things being broken.

In any other circumstance, Jeongguk would have been distracted by the movement of your arms, and subsequent prominence of your tits, but he's just as angry as you are. Can't even bring himself to entertain the idea of your usual escapades, of what he knows you'd be getting up to in an empty cloakroom in any other circumstance, 'cause he's too agitated.

"The fuck was-" he laughs, imitating your words. Stutters a little. Can't believe the fucking audacity of you, sometimes. "The fuck was that ? I don't know. You tell me, B. Huh? Where the fuck were your boundaries?"

A great question, you think.

Decide to counter with a few questions of your own.

"Tell you what ?" You sneer as if you don't know exactly what's pissed him off. It's not like you're stupid - but it's also not like you didn't see Hayun follow him to the smoking area. You watch him just as much as he watches you - the obsession is shared. Equal. And so you smile again, in a way that unnerves Jeongguk. Unsettles him, not because it's unpleasant, but because he's devastated by how prettily scorn resides in your features. "Why don't you tell me, baby? How was your smoke?"

The way you call him baby is cruel . Spiteful.

There's nothing he wants more than to be yours; to be the recipient of all your affection. He's revelled in the name before. Loves it when it occasionally slips from your tongue in moments of ecstasy.

He doesn't understand why it hurts now. He just knows that it does.

And so his shoulders broaden. Posture straightens. Defences strengthen.

"Here we fuckin' go again-"

"Yeah, we do," you interrupt, hot in your immediate anger. You're capable of spitting fire, and given how frosty you've been towards one another lately, you want the heat. You want your anger to burn. To leave a mark. A permanent reminder: treat me better. "I told you my boundaries. I made it perfectly clear that I expected better from you, and the first thing you go and fucking do? Entertain her. Why the fuck would go and do that?!"

Realistically, you know Jeongguk treats you incredibly well. In fact, no one has ever treated you in the way that he has. If anything, you feel unworthy of him - and perhaps that's just it.

Perhaps you're looking for a way to push him away.

How can he hurt you if you hurt yourself first?

"I didn't go and do shit, B" he yells right back. Thinks you're being unfair. Knows that he did all he could. If the tables were turned, and it was Seokjin who'd followed you to the smoking area, you'd have responded in the same way. He also knows there's no chance in hell of Seokjin interrupting a night like this. Wonders if perhaps maybe you do have a point. She is always around. Can never catch a fucking break. " She followed me - but you let some fucking guy be all over you-"

"Convenient," you laugh, all rather condescending and sarcastic in your tone. Fighting for the sake of fighting, neither of you care for scoring points. You just want to hit where it hurts. His remarks about the random stranger on the dancefloor are ignored. "Why the fuck is she even here?!"

"I don't know! I didn't invite her, and I can't exactly ban her from existing," Jeongguk scoffs, well aware that you're just being petty for the sake of it. The vein in his throat protrudes, blood hot beneath his skin. His lips are pouty from frustration. If you stop fighting, you know you'll want to kiss him. "I took her off the guest list, and I told her to get fucked. What more can I fucking do?!"

He's done everything right. You know this.

But somewhere between the miscommunication and the one-too-many tequilas, you've convinced yourself that his defensiveness is an admission of guilt, and that he's doubling down in a bid to convince you of half-truths.

This nature of yours is destructive. Always has been - but you and Jeongguk have worked so hard to snap each other out of your bad behaviours. He thought you were past this.

So did you.

"You can make a fucking choice, Jeongguk," you shout back, eyes glassy, jaw tense. "You have them, you know? Choices . You can choose to leave. You can remove yourself from the situation. You have free fucking will. You know that, right?"

You're not privy to the conversation between Jeongguk and Hayun. Are unaware of the fact he did exactly that. He has learned his lessons.

"You have no fucking idea-"

"No idea of what? How hard it is to let her go?" You sneer, putting words in his mouth. "Yeah, I fucking do, 'cause you're apparently unable to do so."

He's silent for what feels like an eternity.

Feels like he's fighting a losing battle. Rubs his fingers along his jaw, pressing into his skin as if he's trying to ease the joints of their tension. Looks away. Shakes his head. Snaps his gaze back to you, and says, "If you think this poorly of me, then what the fuck are we even trying for, B?"

The air between you is so cold you're surprised snow doesn't begin to dust the top of his shoulders. Funny, how you always thought you'd withstand winters with Jeongguk, and now doesn't even seem like you'll make it to the end of summer.

As you shrug your shoulders, you cast your gaze to the floor. Are quiet, and dismissive as you say, "I don't think poorly of you, Jeongguk. I just think sometimes you make poor choices."

Now this does piss him off.

Glancing back up to see his reaction to such softly spoken words, you're surprised to find that the scorn in his eyes almost hides the stars as he looks at you – but not entirely.

He'll never lose them. Not ever. You're part of his anatomy. His soul. Will forever have stars in his eyes as long as he has you.

"I fucking choose you ," he hisses. Gets closer. Encroaches on your personal space. Looks down at you. Is just as frustrated as you are. Doesn't understand why you don't just fucking let him love you.

He knows you well enough by now to know what you're doing, how you're trying to push him away. You feel undeserving of his heart, so you try to throw it back at him - but he refuses to ever catch it.

He'll damned if you manage to destroy things. Vetoes the idea of this fight ruining what you have, but is too proud to back down. Knows he hasn't done anything wrong. Not now, at least.

Just doesn't realise it's the wrongs of his past that make it so difficult for you to trust his truth, now. Had fucked you once with the promise of not ever wanting anyone else, only for you to later find out that the lips that had whispered such words of affection had also been stained in red earlier that evening.

"Every fucking time, B," he continues, unaware of the painful memories that are choking you up. Will call you B until the day he dies, whether you're loving or fighting. It matters not. What matters is that you're still his to call. "When Hayun says dumb shit, I choose you . When Jiyeong was being a dick, I only stuck it out because I was choosing you , and choosing your happiness, because I thought it was what you wanted. When you started seeing whatever the fuck that douchebag was called, I chose to let you explore that, because it's something you had to figure out for yourself. B, I fucking choose you . Again and again-"

"But you didn't!" You shout, now, with no care for how close he is. Swallow back a sob. Don't wanna look weak, but you fucking feel it. You are about to spill the real crux of the issue that you've been holding in for months now. Something you dismissed, and ignored, when really you should have just spoken about it straight away. He gave you the chance - you just weren't ready. Didn't understand how you felt about it - but now you do, and you realise it's tainting everything in a dark shade of maroon. "Showing up at my apartment after kissing Hayun isn't choosing me. It's crawling back to me."

To say it out loud hurts.

To admit that it bothered you as much as it did is embarrassing.

To expose that you're no longer fearful of intimacy, but of him being intimate with someone else, is mortifying.

But it's a truth that he needs to know; that even though it was months ago, and you thought you were over it, it's been affecting how you feel towards not only him, but towards Hayun and the entire situation at hand.

There's silence; the sound of the club speakers echoing into the room the only disguise for your breaking hearts.

"B, it wasn't like that," He begins to defend himself, but his intent won't change his impact. Not now. "I was confused ."

"You betrayed my trust," you pathetically whine, finally admitting how the entire situation made you feel. "Gguk, you really fucking hurt me."

Perhaps the admission has come too late. Perhaps you should have come to terms with it earlier. In all honesty, it's only been a recent realisation. One that you've been trying to ignore.

Implementing boundaries would have remedied some of your woes, but when Jeongguk got defensive, everything fell apart.

There's a shift, not only in Jeongguk's footing, but also in his understanding of the situation; an awareness that this really has nothing to do with how rotten Hayun has been to you, but instead how accepting Jeongguk has been of her.

This is on him.

"Every single time I see her scurry after you, or find you hidden in conversation, that's what I think of," you say quietly, a little ashamed of how your brain works. Have worked so hard to heal it, but old habits die hard, you suppose. "I look at you, together, and I think of how I knew something had happened and I just let you... I let you lie to me, then fuck me as if you'd never do me wrong. And it makes me feel pathetic. I'm reminded of it every single time I see you together. I can't live a life like that, Gguk. Maybe it's my fault, but-"

Jeongguk shakes his head.

It isn't gonna let you take the fall for this one.

He cups your cheeks with his palms, and - oh, God - it's like coming home. Melt into his touch. You've missed him so much. Him; his warmth, and his kindness. He's like a sip of fresh spring water after an arduous hike. You've never been much one for climbing, but you'd move mountains just to have him.

You're pitiful as quiet sobs escape from your tipsy lips. It's embarrassing and stupid, but it just hurts so fucking much. The stroke of his thumbs as he brushes away your tears is disjointed; razor blades in one moment, feathers in the next.

"I fucked up, B," he says tenderly, forehead pressed to yours. Your cheeks are red, and your eyes even redder. Jeongguk knows how much you hate the colour. Feels awful that his actions have stained you in it. "If I could go back and change it all, I would - but I can't. You just have to believe me when I say I'm sorry . Trust me. You're the only person I want. Okay? The only one ."

And yet his words don't seem to soothe. If anything, you start crying even harder.

Jeongguk's getting scared. His heart rate doesn't seem to settle. Has never seen you this upset. He isn't quite sure what he's supposed to do. Knows alcohol is playing a part, but also knows it must come from sober feelings.

When you and Jeongguk started this whole thing, it was easy. Just you, and him. You could weather the storm of Seojoon and Jiyeong easily. Secretly knew that they were never the right fit, no matter how hard you tried.

Seokjin was touch and go for a while. That first night you showed up at Jeongguk's place in a sorry state about it all, he didn't imagine a scenario in which you'd ever choose yourself over Seokjin - let alone choose him .

Jeongguk refuses to let Seokjin ever know the concept of peace, or a version of you that isn't spoken for, so long as he's in the picture.

Hayun was different. She came in like a tidal wave, and when she crashed, she obliterated everything . It took a while for you to realise how bad the damage was, but now the shores have settled, it's clear to you that you're still a little wrecked by it.

So of course you're crying, as you realise sucking Hayun's venom from Jeongguk meant poisoning yourself.

"I just... Gguk, I can't," you simply shrug, defeated by it all.

"Can't what?"

Though his voice is quiet, controlled, Jeongguk is anything but. He isn't sure if his heart is beating at rapid speed, or if it's stopped altogether. Either way, he thinks he might die.

You're struggling to form words. Sob a little more. A little harder.

He's panicking. You're not looking at him - think it'll just make it worse - but when he speaks, it sounds like he's about to sob, too. "Can't what , B?"

You're pathetic as you choke out, "Do this."

Jeongguk's blood runs cold.

Of all the outcomes of fighting with you, he never thought that it would be this. Knows you're stubborn. Knows you're set in your ways once your mind is made up. Know that if you're saying something out loud, that you mean it - or at least part of your brain does.

He knows the exact part of your brain well. It's that fearful, cautious little trinket inside your head, right between your memories and your dreams, telling you to do this.

But Jeongguk has spent so long making that part of your brain pretty.

Like an old Altoids tin, he's been busy fixing you up. Has adorned you in bows and gemstones, paper cuttings from receipts received in time spent together, portraits from a photobooth that captured an intimacy so rare you didn't even realise what it was at first. Not like you do now.

He's filled it to the brim with everything that makes you tick: a tiny My Melody figurine, a miniature copy of your favourite Van Gogh, a couple 500 won coins for arcade machines and a vial of glitter for emergencies. Inscribed his initial in the side of the metal, 'cause he wants you to remember that he did this.

To recognise that even the scariest parts of your brain will always be safe with him.

It's not like it's been without reciprocation. Jeongguk's got more glitter in his brain than thoughts these days. Ideas are strung up on origami birds, and memories are washi-taped in place. There's a disco ball right in the middle of his mind, and it never stops spinning. He should be dizzy, really - but it's finally like his brain is moving at the right speed for him. Used to feel seasick on solid ground before he met you. Enjoys the sensation of stillness, now.

Without you, he'll be all out of sync. Won't be able to see any stars. Night skies will be empty. Void.

He is terrified by the concept of an abyss where there once was abundance.

But that's the thing.

It's merely a concept.

It'll never be true.

Just like there'll always be stars in the sky, there'll always be a place for you with him. Always.

And so despite your tears, and regardless of Jeongguk's panic, he surprises you both when he laughs. Shakes his head, forehead pressed to yours. Tells you, with an absurd smile on his face, "No."

No.

I refuse.

Confusion warps your tear-sodden face. Brows furrow. Head shakes. Pouty lips so close to his, you could kiss him if you really wanted. You do want to - but not like this. Not when you don't really understand what's happening.

"What?" You manage to sob. Sniff back a few more tears. Are so overwhelmed with confusion that your brain can only regulate one intense emotion at a time. What once was anger had devolved into sadness, and now you're just left inexplicably bamboozled. Don't understand.

He doesn't need you to understand. Just needs you to hear him out for a change.

"No," he repeats, with a soft laugh. Lets his nose nudge against yours. Doesn't give a shit if his face gets with your tears. Has shared so much worse with you. Wants to experience it all with you. The good and the bad. "Chess."

Funny, how usually that word would scare you.

Feels like it's healing you, now.

So puzzled by him and your own feelings, and whatever the fuck is going on, you laugh, too. "You can't 'chess' a break up."

"I can," he assures you. "I've got like, two birds left on my ceiling, and neither one of them have 'break up' written on the wings, so. No can do, I'm afraid. No breaking up for us."

Jeongguk knows you. Knows how your brain works. Knows that all you want, truly, is to be chosen. Knows that you're pushing him away, when in reality you're begging him to stay – and so that's what he'll do.

He'll stay for the anger. Stay for the sadness. Stay for the bad, 'cause he knows that it's worth the good. Worth the happiness. Worth the passion, and the protection, and the pretty way you make him feel. God, it's so worth it.

Fists bunching in the front of the tank top beneath his open flannel, it's the first indication that you want him to stay close. The breaths hitching in your throat become a little calmer. Lips tremble, but not in the way they once were.

"Gguk-"

"Don't." He's gentle as he interrupts. It is so tender. Warm. Safe. "B, I'm not losing this. I'm not losing you. I'll give up anything , but I won't give up you. Don't make me. Please ."

It's what he should have said when you fought at Yoongi's place; what he should have said a million times over. He tried to prove it in his actions, but failed to communicate it with you how you needed him to. He is trying his hardest now.

Hopes it isn't too late.

There is a soft smile on your lips, head shaking at the stupidity of a fight like this. Find a little humour, as you eventually tease, "Suppose we can't break up if we're not technically together."

"Oh my God," he groans, tipping his head back. Laughs. "I have a plan! Everyone keeps giving me shit for not making things official but – fuck," he pulls back to press a kiss to your forehead, then wraps his arms around you. Hugs you so tightly it's as if he's forgotten you need to breathe if you stand any chance in hell of being together. Is so soft as he smiles, "B, I've got a fucking disco ball in my Instagram bio. What more do you need?! That's like, the most official thing ever ."

"Wait," you laugh now, too. Pull back to look at him. Notice there's glitter all over the front of his shirt, but what could you expect from such a mess on your face? He was well aware it would happen. Wanted it to happen. Loves the lingering remnants of you. "Your bio?"

Again, actions over words. Tried so hard to silently let you know he cared, but failed to realise he needed to actually let you know.

There's no shyness as he nods. In fact, he seems rather pleased with himself, pulling his phone from his pocket, handing it over to you. Lets you unlock it. Lets you find Instagram in his apps. Lets you click through to his profile. Gives you full access to his phone, because he's got nothing to hide.

Sure enough, above his Chess Champion title, is a string of three emojis: a disco ball, a bird, and a star. You .

"When?" you narrow your eyes as you question him, unable to fight your smile.

He narrows his eyes right back. Wants to kiss you so fuckin' badly. "Can't believe you never noticed. After Pohang. After I told you I had feelings for you."

There's a level of guilt that comes with thoughts of Pohang; a reminder of the conclusions jumped to, and the safety mat laid out by Jeongguk beneath you.

Have you not learned your lesson? Did you not trip yourself up enough times? Did Jeongguk not bandage up your knees each and every time you scraped them against the assumptions that lined the floor of your self-sabotaging mind?

Actions, or words, it matters not. Looking at Jeongguk, so soft in his gaze and strong in his stature, you know he'll never lie to you again. Maybe about the small things - the inconsequential white lies that harm not even flies - but never about the big things. Understands that what's sometimes small to him may be large to you, so will try his goddamn hardest.

He really has learned his lesson. Is deserving of gold stars.

There's only one star he wants, though, and so you'll give him it; give him yourself.

"I just got so in my head," you begin to explain.

"I know."

It's not the first time. Truthfully, he doubts it will be the last. He just doesn't care.

He rests his forehead against yours. Nudges his nose into its favourite spot, and whispers, "You'd be insane to give this up, and you damn well know it."

"Insane," you agree. Are slow as you tilt your head upwards, lips ghosting his. Neither of you press down. Instead, you simply exist for a moment. Share oxygen. Stay alive, together, until you whisper. "I don't wanna end things. I don't-" You choke out a laugh, still delicate from your previous tears. "Gguk, I want this to work."

"We will work," Jeongguk whispers. "We do work."

It's proven how your body moves as he presses his lips down into yours, kisses soft, his hold on your body hard. Like the lip rings in the corner of his mouth, he's firm in his physical declaration of feelings. Intentional. Intimate.

The room you're in melts away. No longer are you in the confines of the Dionysus cloakroom, but a place all to yourselves; serene forests and flowing streams, moonlight shining down. The sound of the club echoes into oblivion. All that's left is you and him. Eternity wouldn't be long enough for a love like yours.

But your time on this earth is limited - and Jeongguk doesn't wanna waste it.

"B, it's so fuckin' stupid that we aren't together," he husks as you pull away from the intensity of his kiss. "So stupid, and pointless. My mind's made up."

Certain. Sure. Solid. His need to be yours is unwavering. Will never change.

"Oh, yeah?" You settle into a pretty smile, and it's almost like you were never bloody crying.

"Yeah," he smiles right back, drawing you closer to him. "I wanna be your boyfriend, and I want everyone in that goddamn club to know that you're my girlfriend."

"That's a bit excessive," you tease of his possessiveness, as if it isn't making the butterflies in your stomach soar.

"Is not," he assures you, matching your tone. Is so pleased to be playful with you again. God, he's missed you. "I'll get up in the DJ booth. Tell everyone." He brings his hand to his mouth to imitate a mic, but also doesn't stop holding your hand in the process. Puts on his best DJ voice. "I'm dating a disco ball, letsssss gooooo!"

Delicate in how you giggle at his dumb humour, you shake your head. "You'll end up one of those documentaries, you know. The ones where people fall in love with cars and stuff."

"Oh, you're far more fuckable than a car. Exhaust pipes hurt."

"How do you even-"

"So, do you wanna be my girlfriend?"

You're beginning to realise now why Jeongguk needed a plan so badly. The boy is a disaster. All you can do is laugh – but you also nod. He's right. Postponing the inevitable had opened you up to a vulnerability you were unaware you even had.

"It's a stupid question."

"I know it is," he insists, and pulls you in for a dainty kiss. Would kiss you forever, if he could - but your answer is more important right now. "Thought it went without saying. But, just to clarify – that's a yes, right?"

You'd rather die than reject Jeongguk. It's why he never has to fear rejection with you - 'cause you simply never will.

"Yes, it's a yes," you grin, biting down on your bottom lip. Feel shy, somehow, as if you haven't had him in the most explicit of positions; as if this is uncharted territory.

There's a sparkle in his eye. He reciprocates the way you bite on your lip. Mirrors you, because that's what you do when you're confronted with the person you adore the most in the whole entire world.

The bell by the front desk chimes. You both ignore it. Neither of you can look away.

"Nice," he nods, incredibly boyish and pleased with himself. He has a girlfriend . Feels like he's fuckin' floating. "Think I'm cured."

You push him away a little, just to drag him back down into a kiss that finishes far too quickly for his liking. Wants to suffocate in everything you are. Wants to go home, hand in hand with you. Wants to fuck you like he means it. Wants to hold you while you sleep. Wants to wake up beside you.

Wants, wants, wants.

You, you, you.

"Oh yeah?" You enthuse, totally enthralled by the energy he's radiating. Like a neon light, the beam he emits is celestial. You think he's the real star, here.

You both ignore the bell again.

"Yeah. Fear of rejection? Pffft," he dismisses. "Not my problem. Couldn't be me."

"I'm gonna have to start rejecting you to humble you, aren't I?" You laugh - but then the bell rings again, and you both know you can't ignore it for any longer. "C'mon. Let's get that poor person's coat."

"Hope whoever it is stubs their toe when they get home," he whines, stealing one final kiss before you drag him back around to the hatch. Mumbles, "Cockblocking prick."

Pulling on his hands, you drag him round the corner with you, both smiling like absolute idiots, highly aware that it probably looks like something incredibly inappropriate happened. You don't care.

"Oh," you falter when you catch sight of the hatch, and the crimson calamity waiting there for you.

It's not like it's unthinkable to happen, Hayun coming to collect her jacket, but it's also not something you had anticipated. You had expected Hayun to at least let your smile fade before showing up just to ruin the fun.

There's an awkwardness in the way she stares at you, and you at her. Almost like Jeongguk isn't even there - but he is. His grip on your hand tightens. You both stop in your tracks. The tension is so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

He speaks first. Wants to prove himself. Is stern. Says, "Sorry. Don't know where the attendant is."

Rolling your eyes, you smile. Are aware of his intentions. Feel far more secure than you did half an hour ago. He's got no need to prove himself. Patting his chest, you let go of his hand, then head towards the hatch, where an incredibly perplexed Hayun still stands.

Taking a deep breath, you know you don't have to do this – but you nearly let her win earlier. Being cruel to her now would just scream insecurity, and you know that kindness will be the thing that really haunts her.

"What's your number?" You ask. Hold hand out for the little raffle ticket. "I'll get it for you."

She says nothing. Hands the ticket over. 666. Figures .

Jeongguk keeps his eyes trained on you as you head off to the back of the room to collect her jacket from the section it's in. Doesn't even so much as look in Hayun's direction when she mutters some bullshit about how 'classy' the pair of you are to be caught in a cloakroom together.

He knows that the simple act of you retrieving her jacket will leave it covered in glitter, and that's punishment enough for Hayun. Has no interest in engaging in conversation with her, especially not one that is targeted at making you feel shitty.

"Here," you smile as you hand it over. Are met with no thanks, just a look of disdain and the understanding that she never wants to see you again – and God, how you hope this will be the case.

She casts one final glance across to Jeongguk. There's nothing in it. No sorrow, no remorse. She's just checking to see if his eyes are on her. They aren't.

"You good?" Jeongguk asks you almost immediately, not caring if Hayun is still around or not, holding out his hand for you to take.

"Good," you nod. As your fingers link with his, you exhale a shallow breath. Squeeze his hand.

When he opens the door, the kid he'd barked at earlier awkwardly jumps up from his squatted position. Jeongguk grimaces. Apologises.

"Was, uh-" he stumbles on his excuse. "Some business stuff."

And so as you let him lead you back into the main room, you tease him. "Is that what we are, huh? Just business?"

He laughs, squeezing your hand. Leans back to make sure you can hear him as he says, "You're not business, B. You're my girlfriend - or have you forgotten that already?"

"Think you'll just have to repeat it, like, all the time," you tell him. "Make sure I never forget."

And when you finally return to your friends, greeted by an explosion of cheers when they see you together , smiling, holding hands? Oh, how could you ever believe that you and Jeongguk aren't meant to be?

"What?" You feign ignorance. Joke, "We're just frie-"

"Shut up," Jeongguk laughs – and then to really kill the notion of you being anything other than hopelessly in love, he kisses you.

Unapologetic, undignified, and undeniable.

"Finally," Jimin beams – and then gets right in between you both, arms looped over both yours and Jeongguk's shoulders. Drags you both to the bar. "Drinks on me, you silly fuckers."

He gets a bottle of champagne.

Tells Yeonjun to put it on Jeongguk's tab.

Isn't the first time Jimin's promised a happy ending, only for Jeongguk to be the one footing the bill. You're used to it.

What you're not used to is the way Jeongguk's arm slinks around your waist, and how he presses half a dozen kisses into your hair for the whole world to see. "I mean it, B. Really better remember this when you wake up."

You can't imagine a scenario in which you won't - but he's spent the night remedying your woes. It's only fair you return the favour.

"Yeonjun," you call across the bar - but he doesn't hear, so you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. "Oi!"

He snaps to face you immediately. Narrows his eyes. Knows he deserves it for all the times he's yelled 'Oi, Disco Ball' at you. Pointing a finger towards you, he fights a smile.

"You're lucky the boss likes you," he tells you, nodding to the man beside you. "I'd ban you from the bar otherwise."

"You'd do no such thing," you assure him. "I bring in too much business."

He raises a brow. "I don't think you've ever paid for a drink."

"That is beyond the point! Anyways, you got a pen behind the bar? Need to borrow it. Will give it right back."

He plucks a random Sharpie from the hidden counter beneath the bar and passes it over.

Pulling the cap off with your teeth, you push Jeongguk's flannel sleeve to his elbow, and set to work on filling up space on his empty arm.

He watches on without objection. Is smitten. Can't see what you're drawing. Is just looking at the back of your head. Doesn't matter. Looks at you - even the back of your head - with complete adoration.

You're just making a quick little modification to his otherwise pristine skin. A reminder for the morning.

Recapping the pen, you reach over the bar to pop it down, not bothering to call Yeonjun back over.

With the prettiest smile on his face, Jeongguk nods as he looks at your work. It's two words. A dozen stars. Poorly drawn birds and an even worse disco ball. In your handwriting is a label Jeongguk never wants to wash away: Byeol's Boyfriend.

"Yeah," he hums ever so sweetly. "That's me."

56 notes · View notes

cryoculus · 2 years ago

Text

— guard dog 01 ⟢

pairing: thoma x assassin!reader

summary: you’re a skilled mercenary who takes odd jobs all around inazuma to make ends meet. so when the shogunate hires you to assassinate the lady of the kamisato clan, you don’t think much of it. that’s until you grossly miscalculate how good of a guard dog her chief retainer actually is.

word count: 5.5k words

notable characters: thoma, kamisato ayaka

tags: found family, enemies to lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut

warnings: drugging attempts, assassination attempts

notes: i'll be posting chapters one to thirteen everyday at double intervals! this is one of the fics i'm immensely proud of writing, so i hope you like it hehe :')

header art cr: n0yunn on twt

masterlist

You’ve always wondered what the Kamisatos of old had been thinking when they decided to build a mansion by the cliffs of Mount Yougou.

First, you’d either have to make the trek up the mountain or navigate your way through Chinju Forest. The locals of Narukami Island already regarded that place warily—with all the talk about bake-danuki kidnapping lost children in the cover of night, never to be seen again.

And then there was the sudden drop all the way to the rocky shores of the coastline below. One wrong move, and you might just find yourself dead on the beach if you carelessly traipse around the edges of the property.

But you knew, more than most, that the natural terrain wasn’t what made the Kamisato Estate so difficult to breach.

The guards of the Yashiro Commission were stationed uniformly across the area—looking intimidating enough to send any amateur thief packing. One could tell from a glance that these guys had years of training under their belts.

After all, they were guarding one of the three noble households in Inazuma. But it’s not like anyone who knew about Kamisato clan and its retainers was stupid enough to cross them like that.

Unless, of course, they were you.

A flock of birds flew overhead from your vantage point, momentarily distracting you from the task at hand. It was nearing sundown again, and the princess should be tending to the sand gardens right about—

“Now,” you whispered, biting down on a lavender melon as you watched the scene unfold.

Normally, scouting your targets from a perch so high up was impossible. But your employers were generous enough to supply you with a pair of binoculars for the job. You were never one to tinker with any Fontainian contraption imported into the country, but if it works, it works.

Now here you were, hidden away in one of the slated slopes of the mountain as Kamisato Ayaka stepped out into the foyer to admire the scenic view.

She strode gracefully into the garden, rake in hand before gazing out into the open sea. The waning sunlight glittered across the surface in warm tones, and you would have been mesmerized too, if the circumstances had been any different.

Still, this was a sight Ayaka saw everyday, and the princess spared no time soaking up the scenery longer than she had to.

This was your seventh day of lying in wait—familiarizing yourself with each person who went in and out of the estate at all hours of the day. Where they went, what they did, who they spoke to.

Well, not really. Even a dedicated mercenary like you had to take some breaks in-between. But one week was enough for you to memorize the daily habits of the Yashiro Commission.

A greenhorn would never have noticed the way they loosened security in the first hour of twilight. Only five guards out of the original ten stationed outside would remain, and the others would be invited to eat dinner inside the pavilion.

After twenty or-so minutes, they would switch with the guards that stayed behind—rinse and repeat.

During this momentary give in their defenses, though, Ayaka would trace circles into the sand garden in quiet meditation.

Vulnerable. Exposed.

If you decided to take her out with a bow and arrow, gravity would favor you in more ways than one. But you were a shit archer at best, and there was…something else that threw a wrench in your plans. A wildcard in your weeklong observation period that you just couldn’t pin down no matter how many alternatives you tried to come up with.

The lavender melon turned bitter in your mouth once you caught sight of him.

Thoma was someone that’s very hard to miss. You’ve seen him a couple of times around Ritou—all golden hair and swindling smiles—but you never once dared to make his acquaintance. Fixers were crafty people by nature, and you’d rather not get outfoxed by someone like him by any means.

In fact, your constant avoidance was finally bearing fruit now that you’ve been entrusted with the assassination of Kamisato Ayaka.

But while everyone else in the Yashiro Commission stuck with their day-to-day routines faithfully, Thoma seemed like he always just acted on a whim. That man had no concept of routine at all.

Unlike Ayaka who committed herself to her own schedule without fail, Thoma was someone who did something different everyday.

In hindsight, it was expected. He was an undercover fixer—of course his daily to-do list wasn’t patterned the same way as everyone else’s.

The other day, Thoma left the estate at the crack of dawn only to come back a few hours after midnight.

Yesterday, he leveled the hedges as he watched Ayaka practice her swordsmanship in the courtyard.

And now, after bidding a few words in farewell to his charge, he was walking out of the estate with a carefree hint to his strides. If you drew any closer, you might even hear him whistling.

Case in point: this wasn’t the first time you were hired to kill a noble. It was, however, the first time you’ve had to deal with a variable that’s as unpredictable as Thoma.

You watched him take the path that led to Chinju Forest through your binoculars—tossing the stem of your lavender melon to the side. He was probably headed to Inazuma City from the looks of it.

Patiently, you waited until Thoma’s form disappeared into the mist before heaving a long sigh in relief.

Now that he was out of the way, you could afford some room to think.

Admittedly, you weren’t sure why the shogunate even contacted someone like you to carry this out. You were nothing but a lone swordswoman who took on odd jobs to make ends meet. Killing other people for money wasn’t exactly above your moral compass, but could your feats be impressive enough for the Tenryou Commission to seek you out personally?

“Kill the girl and make it seem as if the Sangonomiya rebels were behind it,” said Kujou Masahito, the night he and his men found you. “We’ve been in a stalemate long enough.”

It was a tall order, now that you thought about it. What person in their right mind would accept a mission to: one, infiltrate the Kamisato estate; two, murder the lady of the house; and three, frame the resistance for the act? Sure, the Tenryou Commission practically offered you millions of mora in exchange, but was all that really worth risking your neck for?

However, asking questions wasn’t something you did with your clients. Whoever they were, whatever their motives, so long as they came to you, offering the right price, you would see the job done.

Your discretion has always made you quite the favorite in the Inazuman underworld, and you’d prefer if things stayed that way.

Rising from your aching haunches, you shoved the binoculars into a knapsack. You then cast the estate below a sidelong glance. The sun had long set, and a slew of yellow lanterns lit up the courtyard.

You could see Ayaka being escorted back inside the house by one of her attendants, possibly to join her brother for dinner as well. You paid it no mind.

You’ll allow her some last moments of serenity before putting an end to her life.

About two hours before midnight, you descended from your perch—ducking behind trees while skilfully evading the guards’ line of sight. You quietened your footsteps as you approached the building in which the estate’s denizens resided.

There was no need for you to draw this close, as you’ve already gleaned most of what you needed to know from a distance, but…

It was about time for the princess’ nightly routine. An elegant dance performed beneath the moonlight—with her signature fan scattering white snowflakes in the height of summer.

You’ve heard about the Shirasagi Himegimi’s mesmerizing performances in passing. How she was always the star of every cultural festival in Amakame Island.

You were only human, so you were naturally inclined to be curious. And it’s not as if seeing her dance in the moonlit foyer will derail your plans.

But you’d been a few minutes too late, it seemed. Because now, Ayaka was seated by the edge of the pavilion, gazing silently at the clear sky above. In her hands was a teacup patterned with herons in flight—one of her favorite pieces.

To a normal onlooker (A.K.A., anyone who didn’t spend seven days deliberately stalking her), Ayaka didn’t seem the type to drink tea all by herself. She had an entire Commission’s worth of company, and she could always ask one of her retainers to sit down and nurse a few drinks with her.

But you’ve come to realize that the princess was someone who didn’t like disturbing others—regardless of how minimal the disturbance might be.

Kamisato Ayato took charge of the political dabblings of the Yashiro Commission. Kamisato Ayaka was the face of the clan; the heart of the people; adored by each and every person who knew her by name.

But…why did she look so lonely?

“Milady, you shouldn’t be staying up so late.”

The sound of Thoma’s voice made you seize up like a cat tossed into a basin of water—making you reflexively duck behind the rigid walls on the side of the house. There were no lanterns on this side of the estate, so the darkness should be able to conceal you well enough.

“I was waiting for you to return,” Ayaka admitted aloud, the sound of her sandals scraping against the stone-littered path ringing in your ears. “I…I would have had a hard time falling asleep either way—knowing not everyone is safely back in the mansion at this hour.”

You arched an eyebrow but continued listening in.

“Oh?” There’s a hint of amusement in Thoma’s tone. “Even if I specifically informed you earlier that I might not be back until tomorrow noon, you still waited? Milady, you honor me, but I can’t continue imposing such—”

“You’re not imposing,” Ayaka sighed, and it’s the first time you've heard her sound so…exasperated. But then again, Ayaka was only ever this animated in the company of her chief retainer. “As one of the leaders of the Yashiro Commission, it’s my responsibility to ensure the well-being of my retainers.”

“Isn’t it the other way around, though?” Thoma laughed, and you got the impression that you were intruding on something you weren’t supposed to. (A little too late to have those sentiments now, but you still had some integrity, at least.) “Well, I know there’s no changing your mind when it is already set, milady. How about we pair your evening tea with some sakura mochi I brought from the Teahouse?”

A pause. “You’re going to tell me what you were doing in Inazuma City, yes?”

“It would be a disservice not to.”

Knowing you’d already lingered for too long, you fled the scene—silently backing away until you heard a loud crunch echoing into the evening air. You jolted, cursing under your breath when you realized you’d stepped on a damn twig—!

“Thoma? What’s wrong?”

Then, footsteps—accompanied by the sound of the chief retainer’s accessories jingling on his person. You ducked behind an unsuspecting aralia tree, but right in front of you was a sheer drop into the ocean. Archons damn it. You hadn’t realized how close you were to the edge of the cliff.

Instinctively, you pressed your back further against the tree bark, wondering what the hell Thoma was even doing here when he supposedly had business to attend to in the city.

“It’s nothing, milady,” he sighed, and you felt your shoulders sag with relief as you heard his voice draw further away. “Just thought I’d heard something.”

“You must be tired if you’re starting to hear things.”

Not waiting for Thoma to come up with a response, you made your timely escape.

Somewhere down the deeper corners of Chinju Forest was an abandoned shrine. It was on the smaller side—the ornamental roof layered with thick moss, and the talismans having faded with age. You hadn’t the slightest clue which deity it was dedicated to, but it was for that reason that you declared it your designated territory of sorts.

There, you took out a shovel from your knapsack before digging a hole into the ground. It was safer to leave what little belongings you had where no people could even begin to look. And you’d rather not be carrying all your possessions when you’re about to infiltrate a mansion.

Once you’re satisfied with the depth, you began to rummage through the bag. You only took what was strictly needed—a pouch of powdered crystal marrow and a lone dark feather.

Mora and weapons wouldn’t be necessary if you did the job properly, which you will. But before you could turn around to shovel the unearthed soil back in place, you twisted the feather in your fingers.

This was the item that secured your agreement to the Tenryou Commission’s outlandish request. Kujou Sara was known to be a fierce warrior on the battlefield, so if Masahito managed to procure one of her feathers and give it to you, it was the real deal.

The shogunate really was out to tip the scales and launch the country into a civil war.

However, the feather was also a contingency plan of sorts.

“If you foresee yourself being unable to complete the mission, burn it and we’ll send someone to come to your aid,” Masahito informed, and while you were grateful for the possible fallback, you wondered if burning it rendered your reward money null and void. You didn’t ask, nor did he elaborate.

It was normal to have your reservations about this. After all, you could very much go down in the history books as the match that ignited the bloodiest war in Inazuma. But you never really cared much for appearances. Not now, not ever.

Once you accept a job, you’ll see it through until the end.

“H-Help, please… Help.”

The guards were quick to act once you emerged from the forest the following day—bloody and beaten and quivering in your boots. One of them managed to catch you before you could fully collapse to the ground, and he immediately barked orders to prepare a room and call a healer.

Faking your identity to mislead victims was a trick you picked up from an old acquaintance. The acting that went into the entire charade was as troublesome as it sounded, but you weren’t exactly given many cards to play here.

Hell, even the method you’d decided to assassinate Ayaka with was far from your usual. But you didn’t build a reputation for yourself by cutting corners and half-assing your jobs, that’s for sure.

Of all the members of the Tri-Commission, the Yashiro Commission was the most impartial. They had the hearts of the people of Inazuma, and the Kamisato clan collectively cared for them in return.

Whether you’re a rebel or a shogunate officer, if you turned up half-dead on their doorstep, it was ingrained in their principles to take you in. That kindness, however, was a double-edged sword.

They’d just invited a murderer into the heart of their stronghold.

However, their retainers weren’t complete idiots. Before rushing you into a room to get your injuries tended to, a due interrogation was conducted. (Who are you? Where did you come from? What happened?)

All their questions, you answered with a somewhat convincing act—you’re woozy from the “blood loss”, unable to respond coherently, drifting in and out of consciousness. But they could glean from your tattered maroon disguise uniform that you were part of the resistance.

“She probably tried to infiltrate the Kujou Encampment,” suggested one of the female attendants. “Both sides are growing more and more desperate each day… Should we inform Lady Ayaka and Lord Ayato?”

The proposal was met with a grunt from a man you recognized as Madarame Hyakubei. “Lord Ayato requested for us not to disturb him today, and Lady Ayaka is resting for the afternoon. Granted, Master Thoma didn’t say when he’ll return either so I suggest we keep this under wraps for now.”

Keep this under wraps. Yeah, that definitely worked in your favor.

With a silent, unanimous agreement, the rest of the guards left you in the hands of their resident healer—a meek woman who introduced herself as Hina.

You knew better than to respond to any of her inquiries, so you continued masquerading your own deliriousness as she patched up your self-inflicted wounds. Hina didn’t linger longer than she had to, and once you stopped fake-moaning in pain, she eventually got up and resumed whatever task your arrival had rudely interrupted.

There were still some curious attendants sneaking glances into the room they’d put you in, though—whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. Thankfully, those gossiping girls went about their own business sometime later, and you’re left completely alone.

You couldn’t really do much in your current state. The people around the mansion were led to believe that you’ve been gravely injured. It would definitely raise suspicions if anyone saw you tiptoeing around the house, so you bide your time.

You’ve waited an entire week to put your plans into motion, what’s a few hours more?

When night fell, you expected one of the attendants to bring you dinner—if the Yashiro Commission’s extensive hospitality was anything to go by.

The anticipation might have also been fueled by the fact that it’s been days since you’ve eaten a proper meal. Whenever the guards outside ate altogether in the pavilion, the food prepared for them looked so appetizing. You couldn’t really blame yourself for pondering what they’ll serve you.

But the person who emerged into the room a few minutes later was the last one you’d expected to come.

“L-Lady Kamisato,” you stammered, sitting upright to bow your head. “It’s an honor. Please don’t trouble yourself with this…”

Ayaka flashed you a gentle smile, kneeling on the tatami to set the tray of food on your bedside. “It’s only proper that I see our guest with a warm welcome. You must be feeling better now that you can speak to me. My retainers said you were practically unintelligible earlier.”

Fuck. You broke character.

Swallowing thickly, you managed a dry laugh. “Your healer was amazing, miss. I didn’t think I would make it through the day, actually…”

She nodded in understanding, a grim look suddenly crossing her pristine features. “I see. You’re one of the Sangonomiya rebels, aren’t you? May I ask what you’re doing all the way here on Narukami Island?”

You purposely let your shoulders sag in a false show of emotion. “I…was sent for an espionage mission, but I got hunted down by the shogun’s lap dogs. Thanks to you, though, I’m still in one piece.”

“I had no part in your recovery. It’s all the work of my retainers,” Ayaka clarified with that same, unwavering smile. She gestured for you to take the food she’d brought. “Go on. I’m sure you’re hungry, so you better eat something.”

You were gladly about to indulge in her offer before—

“Milaaaady,” drawled an obnoxiously loud voice coming from the halls. And when a head of golden hair poked itself into the room, you felt your appetite vanishing in a puff of smoke. “Why’d you leave me in the kitchen? I can’t look after you if you’re going around without me, you know?”

There he was—the wild card that constantly threw your plans into disarray.

“Thoma, don’t be too loud. She’s still resting,” Ayaka chided as he knelt beside her on your bedside. “This is Thoma, the chief retainer of the Kamisato clan. He normally isn’t this noisy, so I hope you forgive him.”

No introduction needed, thank you very much, you wanted to say, but kept your mouth rightfully shut. Instead, you met Thoma’s green-eyed gaze as you tilted your head in a curt bow. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” he chuckled before folding his arms together. “I believe I haven’t caught your name yet…”

A name. Right. You had to give them a name—not your real name, of course. You weren’t that overconfident.

“Kira,” you spoke softly. “My name is Kira.”

“I see. So, Miss Kira…you’re from the resistance, huh? What’s the status over there in Watatsumi Island?”

Again, you assumed your role as a fugitive rebel with sigh. “Not too good. They’ve pushed us back so far that we had to resort to underhanded tactics.”

Thoma raised an eyebrow. “Such as?”

Immediately remembering the suggestion of one of the attendants earlier, you decided to use that as a reference. “Infiltrating the Kujou Encampment to gain some intel. Though, I hardly got that done at all since…” Then, a wordless gesture towards the bandages wrapped around your body.

Ayaka flashed you a pitiful expression while Thoma hummed to himself. Did you really sound that convincing? Nonetheless, the chief retainer spoke again. “A wise man once told me that the best way out of a predicament is through. Why don’t you guys just march straight into Inazuma City and take it up to the Raiden Shogun herself?”

“Why don’t we step out and allow our guest to have some peace tonight?” Ayaka intervened, rising to her feet while tugging on Thoma’s sleeve in the process as she turned to you. “He asks too many questions sometimes. Again, please forgive him.”

You shook your head. “I’m already taking up much of your time as is. The one seeking penance should be me, milady.”

The princess shook her head once more as they made their way out of the room. “We hope for nothing but utmost health for you, Miss Kira. Please don’t hesitate to call for us if you need anything. We can discuss your situation further in the morning.”

When the door slid shut behind them, you could still vaguely make out some fragments of conversation. Ayaka was saying something along the lines of, “You should really be more polite to our guests,” and Thoma only responded with a peal of laughter.

Then, your eyes flickered towards your dinner—braised salted fish with pickled seaweed on the side.

“All these formalities for a complete stranger?” you muttered, pulling apart the chopsticks they’d provided as you shook your head. “Bunch of fools...”

Once you’ve had your fill, you tossed the blankets aside and stretched your limbs. Acting bedridden could easily make you feel the part, and you had to keep your blood pumping for what you were about to do.

For some reason, Hina and the guards didn’t bother inspecting you or your clothes, which proved to be quite the advantage.

Walking over to where they’d set down your boots, you turned the left boot upside down—shaking it rigidly until a satin pouch and a dark feather fell to the floor.

The pouch that contained the poison you were to use weighed almost nothing in your palm, and it was for that reason you chose it.

Powdered crystal marrow was so easy to conceal that slipping it into the princess’ evening tea was mere child’s play. You then shoved Kujou Sara’s feather in one of your pockets, praying you didn’t have to use it at all.

When the door to the room slid open again, you were completely prepared. This time, it wasn’t Kamisato Ayaka nor Thoma who went in to collect the tray.

It was one of the attendants that had been gossiping outside while the healer was tending to your injuries.

She paused by the entrance when she noticed you weren’t in your futon, and it was at that moment that you pounced—muffling her nose with a cloth laced with poison. Not enough to kill her, but certainly enough to knock her out.

Knowing that you’re quickly running out of time, you disrobed the attendant and replaced your disguise with her clothes swiftly.

The sleeves billowed just right around your arms, and the obi wasn’t too difficult to tie. And since you felt slightly bad for having to drag her into this, you covered the attendant’s bare body with the thin blanket of your futon.

With the tray that Ayaka had dropped off in hand, you closed the door to your room—eyes darting around for anyone who could have gotten wind of what just happened.

Fortunately, there weren’t many people milling inside the mansion. Just a couple of attendants dusting furniture and scrubbing the tatami.

None of them spared you so much as a backwards glance. But, knowing you couldn’t exactly disguise your face, you made yourself scarce—heading to a hall that you had a hunch led to the kitchen.

Based on the brief glimpses you’d seen prior to your relocation to the room, your guess should be right, and the attendant you’d just taken out was about to bring Ayaka her evening tea. You didn’t perform a weeklong stake-out for your calculations to be incorrect.

With each step you took across the hall, your heart pounded dreadfully. This was it. You were almost there. If you managed to pull this off, your mantle as Inazuma’s most cunning assassin would be set in stone. Your services would be sought after, and you’d be raking in millions from each job.

(And then Inazuma would be plunged into chaos. The fall of the Kamisato clan’s eldest daughter undoubtedly offsetting the peace that the people of Narukami tried so hard to maintain. The Electro Archon would no longer have any reason to hold back. But would the Raiden Shogun lash out on the very people whom she promised a never-ending eternity?

Would someone like you even be spared from her wrath?)

Your predictions have been correct. You were headed the right way. The kitchen was at the far end of this hall, and none of the other attendants were present.

Instead, the one that greeted you was the chief retainer in all his smug glory—instantly ripping you away from your musings of the future, and back to the dreadful present.

Thoma stood in front of the counter, a fresh tea set patterned with Ayaka’s favorite herons painted elegantly on each ceramic piece. Behind him, a kettle sat on top of the stove—the low flame illuminating the room just a tad brighter.

He didn’t seem surprised to see you, nor did he have any outward reaction to the fact that you’re wearing an attendant’s uniform. Instead, he leaned across the wooden surface, sighing.

“Well that’s just disappointing,” he lamented. “I really rooted for you, you know. Hope you’d give it up and leave once you’ve gotten a taste of milady’s kindness.”

You kept your lips sealed, straightening yourself as you sauntered over to the sink. Your movements were quiet as you set down the bowl and chopsticks they’d given, and Thoma watched your every move.

You had absolutely no clue how he’d managed to sniff you out as quickly as he did, but if he wasn’t pinning you to the floor and tying you up yet, then you still had some leeway for escape.

“I’ve already expected your arrival, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Thoma supplied. “You’re good at not leaving any tracks, but you aren’t exactly keen on concealing your presence. It’s almost like you wanted me to know what you were up to.”

Despite his friendly tone, you kept your silence—gaze roving around the kitchen for any clean-cut exits, only to realize there were none.

You half-contemplated using the rest of your powdered crystal marrow to incapacitate him and make your escape. Though you’re yet to witness it firsthand, Thoma would definitely be worth something in a fight if he was the Kamisatos’ chief retainer.

The injuries you’d sustained from throwing it down with a bunch of mitachurls to look convincingly mangled weren’t all fake. If you were backed into a corner now, you’ll definitely lose.

But you reminded yourself that every dose you got your hands on was few and far in between. You didn’t want to risk your future kills for a momentary lapse in judgement.

So, like any cornered animal, you did what was logical at that moment.

You ran for your life.

Or, at least tried to.

Before you could even step out of the kitchen, Thoma was already on you—seizing both of your wrists and twisting them behind your back. Your jaw throbbed as he slammed your face against the wall, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t break free from his grip.

“Get your hands off me, guard dog,” you hissed, desperately trying to kick him in the groin as a last resort.

Thoma let out another stupidly carefree laugh as he evaded your attempts at his family jewels. “Guard dog? That’s a new one. And you say it like it’s an insult.”

“Fuck you!”

“Now, now. That’s not a very kind thing to say.” He pouted. “And milady was so insistent for me to be polite. Not so deserving now, are you?”

Irritated, you considered spitting in his face, but remembered you had more tact than that. “So? Just kill me then. You already predicted I’d try to kill her, didn’t you?”

The moment you’d articulated the words, it struck you that Thoma was acting awfully calm about your blatant revelation. If it had been one of the other retainers, they’d probably be fuming at the knowledge.

Maybe they would’ve called the police by now. Worse, they’d have you executed on the spot.

But this man didn’t look like a fiercely loyal retainer who prioritized the well-being of his charge above all else. As you struggled to get a look at him from the impossible position he’d pinned you with, Thoma flashed you a conspiratorial grin that gave you the creeps.

“Killing you would be too easy, don’t you think?” the chief retainer sighed. “And besides, milady seems to have taken a liking to you. She’s never met a member of the resistance before. She even wondered over dinner if you two could be friends.”

You clicked your tongue. “I thought you already knew that I wasn’t—”

“Yes, yes. I knew you were a fraud the moment you answered my questions earlier,” Thoma interjected with a chuckle. “No bona fide member of the resistance would give away sensitive information like that so freely. They’d rather kill themselves first before revealing the strategies of Her Excellency, Sangonomiya.”

Oh. So that’s how he figured out.

“Okay, so my acting could be a bit better,” you began snarkily. “But what does it matter now? You caught me. The Almighty chief retainer of the Kamisato household has caught another mouse in the trap. Now could you please just get to the part where you lead me down to the gallows to commit seppuku?”

You were stalling. No one with a survival instinct as desperate as yours would easily resign themselves to a soundless execution.

In reality, you were wiggling an arm out of his grasp in an attempt to reach for the feather tucked in the folds of your stolen obi. Thoma held you conveniently close to the stove, and if you could just toss it into the low flame—

“Hm? But what if it isn’t my intention to have you killed at all?”

That made you pause.

As if to prove a point, Thoma unhanded you and put his palms up in faux-surrender. You scoffed as you rubbed your face.

“Look, I knew you’ve been scouting the area for days now, and you basically just admitted to your own intentions on milady’s life,” he elaborated. “I also knew that this place is too tightly guarded for you to execute your plans as smoothly as you liked. So you had to carry out your mission in the most roundabout way possible.”

“Yes, yes. Of course, of course,” you spat sarcastically. “If you’re so smart and all-knowing, just cut to the damn chase.”

Thoma let out another laugh, and you were so close to sacrificing your last stash of powdered crystal marrow just to see him drop dead.

“The point is, even if I know all these things…milady doesn’t.”

“...I don’t follow.”

Sighing, Thoma leaned against the counter with another disdainful sigh. “I’m offering you an alternative, Miss Kira. Heh. Even the name you picked was a dead giveaway. Seriously? A name that means kill?”

You clicked your tongue. “What alternative are we speaking of again?”

This time, the chief retainer flashed you a look that made you feel like he was mocking you.

“I’ll forget all the information you just revealed to me tonight. I’ll pretend as if our…altercation never happened.” He listed each condition on his fingers before pointing at your stolen garbs. “And I’ll even deal with the poor attendant whose clothes you nabbed. I’m sure I can bribe her into keeping her silence.”

Not liking how good the odds were for you if Thoma simply feigned ignorance like that, you asked, “What do you want in return?”

What came out of his mouth in the next moment, however, was probably the most ridiculous job you’d ever been saddled with in your life. It put Kujou Masanori’s orders to utter, absolute shame.

“Well, it’s very simple, actually.” Thoma grinned. “I want you to be…milady’s friend.”

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