#screaming crying going insane they make me so unwell

[dawngyu]

OKAY, NINA. YOU KNOW HOW I patiently waited for this like the good girl I am… RIGHT??

BUT 26K. LIKE, WOW. OKAY. (I’M LIVING FOR THIS DAY BECAUSE OF IT, BUT THOSE TAGS? THEY’RE GIVING ME HEART PALPITATIONS.)

spoilers under the cut!

The first few paragraphs? UGH. I adore how you wrote them. Her inner monologue?? I’m such a sucker for that because it explains so much and sets the perfect mood—and you NAILED it. Wowowow. The way she’s torn between Beomgyu and Soobin… I know you planted those seeds back in Part 1, but girl, you reaped them beautifully here. You’re insanely talented—I swear, I need to kiss you.

And the dialogues—I love how you bring out each character’s personality just through how they speak. Her longing for Soobin?? My GOD. I’m on the verge of sobbing.

“I think so. If not, then I’ll be at Soobin’s place.”

For the first time, Beomgyu has the decency to not make a face when you bring up Soobin. Instead, he looks away and lets out a heavy exhale. Well, improvement is improvement. You’ll take it.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Some of his friends.” You see him tense a bit at your side from the information. A slight unease fills you, but you don’t let it consume your mood. Tonight will be fun. You can’t let anything ruin it already.

“Are they all guys?”

You pause for a second in thought. “I’m not sure.”

He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “So you’re going to his place with a bunch of random guys?”

OKAY—this scene was such an eye-opener for who Beomgyu really is. I’ve dated a guy like this before… and let me tell you, it did not end well. (We dated—like, full-on dated. And here? They’re not even official yet. But I’m trying to adjust my lens because it’s GYU??? Sick behavior.)

AHHH, THE SCENES WITH TAEHYUN, KAI, AND SOOBIN. (SOOBIN IS GIVING ME BUTTERFLIES.) My heart twists every time with Soobin. The fact that he wants her to be his before kissing her? A label. A clear signal. His integrity… honestly, it’s making me feel so small.

“Don’t worry about it. You could take a year if you need.” His words are so effortless, and he really means it, which pushes your heart further towards a path alongside him.

IM GONNA CRY???

“You want me to change? You want me to be more like him?” he asks. There’s something unhinged in his expression. It’s like he’s losing his grip on his sanity. Fear creeps up your spine, but it doesn’t overshadow your frustration.

OKAY, BEOMGYU?? NINA?? I SCREAMED. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. F. The manipulation—I can’t. He knows he can’t win her heart yet… so he tries to get to her physically. AND THE SMUT?? HELLO?? It has me in a chokehold—I don’t even know if I’m breathing right now…

OKAY, YEONJUN CAME IN STRONG HERE. But honestly, I’m glad he told her what Beomgyu’s been saying behind her back. A guy who kisses and tells… sighs deeply I’m unwell. The confrontation is inevitable at this point, and is it safe to say I’m crying now? Because you’re starting to crush my heart.

GOD. YOUR WRITING. I HATE THAT I LOVE U.

The manipulation Beomgyu’s pulling—UGHHH ASJDHASDG. I fear it would work on me… banging my head against the wall.

Somehow, Beomgyu becomes the only person you don’t feel guilty being around. When you’re with Soobin, you feel guilty for what you’ve done with Beomgyu. When you’re with Chaewon, you feel guilty for not taking her advice and controlling your life more. With Beomgyu, you don’t have to feel guilty, as long as you don’t let yourself think too hard.

OH NO. I see it now… THE FACT THAT HER PHONE WENT MISSING?? AUSDGHUAISGD. I’m officially starting to have trust issues too. This just proves how deep and immersed I am in your writing.

He drops to his knees as a sob escapes him. Unintelligible pleading escapes his lips, but you can’t allow it into your mind. If you stay here a second longer, he’s going to find your soft spots and attack. Adrenaline forces you to start moving.

THIS. OMG. I’M AFRAID THIS MIGHT WORK ON ME TOO. I’m so sorry. (God… the writing. Again.)

And honestly, I feel for the reader. Sometimes, when you really want someone and the path to them feels impossible, it’s so easy to fall for someone else’s manipulation—because it seems easier. But deep down, it’s not. Ugh, I don’t know. I’m so conflicted.

“He fell for you?” he fills in. “I can see why.” He brushes your hair back. Even now, his smile is pure and soft.

i’m crying… completely lost for words. you’ve absolutely shattered my heart. don’t think I’ll be able to process this for at least three business days.

He steps back. “I’m glad I knew you. You’re the best thing this city has to offer.”

:((((( (kms)

I honestly don’t even know how I managed to finish this… Maybe it’s the tissues piling up on my desk from wiping my eyes that got me through. I love it. I love how you, time and time again, differentiated Soobin and Beomgyu—their positives, their flaws. The way you balanced it all was perfect. And the way you ended it? I have to say, you’re such a brave writer for choosing that path. Because at the end of the day, THIS IS YOUR FIC.

I’m truly honored to have had the chance to read this masterpiece—and even more honored to call you my friend.

I can’t wait to see what else you’ll bring. I love you ninaaa. xxx

PS: you deserve an award for writing this, really.

cold, cursed city (part 2)

summary: You wish your best friend would just leave your budding relationship alone.

pairings: beomgyu x fem!reader, soobin x fem!reader

word count: 26k

tags: ANGST, smut (MDNI), best friend and roommate!beomgyu, crush!soobin, possessiveness, manipulation, arguments, very bad reckless dumb decisions, codependency, beomgyu gets a bit crazy

smut tags: multiple smut scenes yet again sigh, switch!gyu, switch!reader, handjob, masturbation, fingering, squirting lollll, praise, degradation, pet names (puppy, baby, etc), overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, mind breaking kinda, utilization of a mirror, some pussy slapping, dubcon!! please beware!

notes: the smut here is so depravedddjshjshdjdjhs 😭 mind the angst in all caps btw… don’t get too mad at me LMAO. this is the final part btw! enjoyyyy<3

Being home feels so awkward now. You feel like you have to avoid Beomgyu, and that’s something you never would have imagined. You wonder if there’s any going back now in your friendship. Will it ever be normal again? It will take some time, you think, but you don’t doubt it. You can’t doubt it. It’s just that you need some time right now.

A part of you is thankful that he leaves you alone. It reprieves you of the constant guilt you were battling with, and you can talk to Soobin without feeling like a liar. Another part of you is terrified that he’s leaving you alone. It’s so unlike him to not be clingy and talkative. You wonder what he’s been going through these past few days.

You don’t even eat dinner together anymore. When you get home from work, you grab something quick to eat and go to your room as soon as you’re finished. The only times you’ve seen Beomgyu since your last conversation is in passing, when you see his figure walk down the hall or pop back into his room.

You really hope he’s okay. You can’t stand to dwell on it too much, obsessing over how he might be dealing with this. Maybe it’s been easy for him. Honestly, he probably needed this too. He must have been going insane the same way you were in his attempts to keep you to himself.

But you do miss him. You miss him when you’re sitting at the table, staring at an empty chair across from you. You miss him when you’re wiping off your makeup, looking for his presence behind you in the mirror. You miss him when you’re laying in bed, watching a movie on your laptop all alone. You miss him a lot.

You’re getting ready for work, staring blankly at yourself in the mirror as you fix your hair. You don’t really have anything to look forward to today. You’re not seeing Soobin after work, Chaewon’s been busy all week, and Beomgyu’s not talking to you. Maybe you’ll invite one of your other friends to hang out later. You hate feeling so lonely.

You grab your purse and head to the kitchen, opening a breakfast bar to eat before you put on your jacket and shoes. You’re about to head out, but a small bright-colored paper on your fridge catches your attention. That wasn’t there last night. You step closer to the fridge and lean in to read the post-it note.

Won’t be back till late tonight. Also eat up the fruits they’re gonna go bad!

Huh, you wonder why he didn’t just text you that. You take the note off the fridge and fold it neatly into your pocket. Your hand is wrapped around it for the whole duration of your walk to work.

When you get back home, you already know what you’ll eat for dinner. You feel a little happier than you have been the past few days as you bite down on the fruits, feeling giddy at the smallest hint of reconnection with Beomgyu. Not talking to him for so long was taking a toll on you.

After you finish cleaning up, you decide to write Beomgyu a note too.

Fruit is all done. Mission accomplished

With a satisfied smile, you stick the post-it on the same spot Beomgyu put his. Maybe a part of you hopes he’ll hang onto it the same way you did with his.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Beomgyu normally isn’t awake when you leave for work; today, he is. You stop in your tracks for a second when you see him sitting at the table, resting his head on his arms. You consider stepping into the bathroom to give him time to run off to his room, but decide against it when he looks at you with brightened eyes.

“Good morning,” he says when you finally enter the kitchen. You give him a small smile.

“You’re up early,” you note as you grab something quick for breakfast. You keep your distance, standing at the counter even if you yearn to leap into the seat across from him.

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explains simply.

“About what?” You keep your guard up.

“Anything,” he says. “I just miss talking to you.” Your standoffish demeanor melts, and your eyes soften. You know how he feels.

“Me too.” You finally move into your seat, excited to finally see something besides an empty chair when you eat here. “What have you been up to recently?”

He shrugs. “Playing games. Sitting in my room. Working. What about you?”

“Pretty much nothing,” you answer. While a part of the conversation does feel weird, seeing as you’re trying to reconnect with your literal best friend, it doesn’t feel stiff or awkward. You’re more happy than anything to hear his voice again. It’s been a long few days.

“We need to do more with our lives,” Beomgyu laughs. It feels good to see a smile on his face again.

“No literally, my screen time this week is embarrassing. Netflix has seen me more than you have in the past five days.” You mean it as a lighthearted joke, but Beomgyu only frowns a little at that. He looks away for a few seconds, then back at you with a gleam in his eyes.

“Why don’t we do a movie night tonight then?” he offers. You light up at his suggestion.

“Yes! I’ll pick up some take-out for dinner too.” You clasp your hands in excitement. A semblance of normalcy is coming back to you, and it tastes so sweet.

“I’m so happy,” Beomgyu says, and it shows on his face. You resist the urge to pat his head at how cute he is.

“Me too.” You get up from your chair and throw out your trash. “I’ve gotta head out now,” you announce, looking at the time.

“Okay, have fun at work!” You feel his stare on you as you gather all your things and move towards the door.

“Thanks, I’ll try,” you say before heading out.

Work feels less stressful today. You don’t feel as frustrated at your little mistakes as you have been recently. You talk to your coworkers a little more than usual at lunch, and you even offer to help on an overdue project for the company, feeling more generous than usual.

As you walk back home, take-out bag in hand, you find yourself feeling foolish for ever worrying that you and Beomgyu couldn’t go back to normal. It was so easy to fall back into this, it’s as if it was second nature. As long as Beomgyu knows not to cross the line, this night will prove that you made the right choice. See, you can have both Soobin and Beomgyu in your life.

Your phone buzzes, and you fish it out of your pocket to check the notification. It’s a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Hey, if you’re not busy do you want to grab dinner?

You pout, hating to have to reject him.

Omg I literally just got food :(

[Soobin] That’s okay!

[Soobin] There’s always tomorrow

Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling. Today is going so well, you almost can’t believe it. Finally, finally you get a day like this, where the world is kind to you again. Suddenly you find yourself more grateful for all the people you have in your life.

Tomorrow it is then!!

Beomgyu’s already sitting on the couch when you enter your apartment. You quickly take off your shoes and jacket so you can dash to your spot next to him, placing the take-out bag on the table in front of you.

“Hiii,” you greet while pulling a blanket into your lap.

“You’re finally back,” he says, smiling. You get yourself cozy as Beomgyu rips open the take-out bag, pulling out all the food.

“Yeah, I stayed a little longer to help with a few extra things.” You grab the remote to start scrolling through movie options. “What do you feel like watching?”

Beomgyu hums in thought. “Something scary?”

“That’s more for autumn, though,” you say. You start scrolling through some comedy movies instead. Those are always fun to watch with Beomgyu.

“Why’d you ask me what I want to watch then?” he laughs. You hold back your smile and whack his shoulder with the remote. He pouts at you in faux hurt as he places a hand over the impacted spot.

“Same reason you ask me what I want for dinner.” You scroll past a bunch of movies, trying to find one you haven’t seen that actually looks interesting. It’s a difficult task when you and Beomgyu have already watched so many movies together.

“It’s gonna take longer to find a movie than it is to watch one,” Beomgyu complains through a mouthful of food.

“Ew, finish chewing.” You keep your eyes on the screen, but you see him snicker in your peripheral. You finally land on a movie that sounds compelling, turning to Beomgyu to gauge his reaction.

He nods. “This one’s good.” You click on it and turn up the volume, then abandon the remote in favor of grabbing some food.

It feels just like a movie night a month ago would have felt. You fill the air with laughter and banter, and you can’t wipe the smile off your face. The only difference this time is that when you finish eating, you don’t cuddle into Beomgyu’s side. You have to be more mindful of keeping space between you now.

You laugh so hard at one point that you have to pause the movie to catch your breath and wipe your tears. “Oh my god, this was so needed,” you say to Beomgyu, still fighting off the last of your laughter.

“It literally was,” he agrees. “The past few days were legit the worst of my life.”

Your laughter finally dies when you hear that. “The worst? Why?”

Beomgyu laughs a little, but it doesn’t sound genuine. “I was scared that you hated me now.”

You turn your head to Beomgyu, but he doesn’t look back at you. God, did he seriously think that? You would never hate him. A weight falls onto your shoulders, and your heart aches.

“Well, don’t think like that ever again,” you say. He finally looks at you. You channel all your sincerity into your gaze. “Even if I’m mad at you, I still love you. You’re my best friend.”

It takes a second for him to react. He gives you a small smile that looks awfully forced, then looks down at his lap. “I love you too,” he says. You don’t want to ruminate on how weird that felt, so you take the remote to resume the movie.

“Back to watching,” you say, leaning back into the couch.

Once you finish the movie, Beomgyu helps you clean the mess on the table, and the light mood persists. You’re glad that you didn’t ruin your friendship with Beomgyu, cause you only feel this comfortable and at ease with a select few people. When you go to bed, you almost cry thinking about your day. You knew that you were having a hard time, but you didn’t realize how hard it was until you got a slice of your normal life back.

A feeling aside from happiness grows in your chest too, something more reflective: you feel proud of yourself. It was hard setting your boundaries with Beomgyu, but you’re so glad you did. Even this one day serves as evidence that you made the right choice.

You can barely fall asleep because you’re so happy, but you have work tomorrow, so you force your eyes shut and wait impatiently to see what the day brings.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“How have you been?” Soobin asks as you seat yourself in front of him. The restaurant he chose is a warm, cozy one, which is a relief. You were worried that he might pick somewhere too fancy, because you had no time to change out of your office attire.

“I’ve actually been pretty good, how about you?” You’ve been looking forward to talking to Soobin again. Ever since he asked you to be his girlfriend, you’ve been itching to feel ready for the label. You won’t force it upon yourself, but you know you’ll be there soon. You’re once again reminded of how lucky you are that Soobin’s willing to wait for you.

“I’m good too,” he answers. You love his smile, you hope he never stops giving it to you. The two of you catch up a bit on life, talking about work and friends. He seems to have been busy this week.

The food at the restaurant is great, but that’s no surprise because Soobin always knows the best places in the city. The night passes quickly, and you find yourself walking back home all too soon. He accompanies you when you ask him to walk you to your apartment. You blamed it on how late it is, but it’s actually because you want more time with him.

“Are you free on Saturday?” Soobin asks, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“For you, yes. What do you have in mind?” You want to hold his hand so bad, but you don’t know if you’re at that stage yet. You crave the weight of his hand in your own, swinging between the two of you. You want to lean into his side and engulf yourself in the brewing romance.

“I was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? I’ve been talking about you a lot, and I know I promised you I’d introduce them.”

You light up at that, making sure to look up at him so he sees your grin. “That would be so fun.”

You’re thrilled at the idea that he talks about you with his friends a lot. Whew. Good thing you’re already outside, cause you need the fresh air. He’s everything you could ask for in a man.

“We’d be meeting at my place if that’s okay,” he says, sounding a little shy as he brings it up. You can’t hold yourself back now—you grab his hand and squeeze it excitedly.

“Of course! I’m dying to see your home. And your friends.” You can imagine the nerdy little decorations he might have lying around his place. You’d let him ramble about each and every little trinket for hours on end if he wanted to.

You’ve arrived at your street all too soon, finding yourself wanting to slow your steps to get a little more time with Soobin. “Thank you for taking me out today,” you say as you see your apartment come into view. You stop walking so that you can fully turn your body toward him. You just want one last good look before you’re off.

“Thanks for giving me the time,” he responds. His warm, sincere words always find the right way to strike your heart.

“I’ll see you Saturday, then.” You send him a parting smile, backing up a couple steps. “Good night, Soobin.”

“Good night.”

As you walk away, you have a revelation. Your body aches to run back to him, you feel like you’re missing something and you can’t quite end the night yet. There’s something that leaves you feeling only half fulfilled. There’s something more you crave.

You wanted to kiss Soobin. Your wish is left ungranted, lips tingling with the feeling of what could have been.

Your feet pause for just a second when the realization hits you again. You wanted to kiss Soobin. You wanted to feel his arms around you, wrapped in a hug that meant more than just a hug. You wanted to hold his face in your hands, feel the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. You wanted to kiss him.

Oh, your poor heart. Where do you store all this longing?

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Saturday comes faster than you anticipate. You change into outfit after outfit, trying to find the perfect thing to wear. You don’t want to over dress, but you don’t want to look like you don’t care at all either. What do you even wear to a get together for a friend group you don’t know?

You settle on a cute dress that you bought while shopping with Chaewon some time ago. It’s modest enough to wear casually, but pretty enough to make you feel confident in it. You’ll have to wear tights to save your legs from the cold, but that’s okay. You move to your vanity so you can do your hair, looking at yourself in every angle in the mirror.

“Where are you headed?” The sudden voice startles you, and you turn around to see Beomgyu standing by your door. You didn’t even notice him enter your room. You wonder how long he’s been there.

You look back in the mirror, fixing your hair. “Just meeting some people,” you answer. Beomgyu steps closer to you, only stopping once there’s just a few inches separating you. You look at him through the mirror. His eyes trail down your body.

“Well, you look pretty.” He fixes the strap of your dress on your shoulder.

Your face heats up, and you forget what you were about to do. “Thank you.”

His hand trails down your arm and stops at your elbow, rubbing your skin. “Won’t you be cold?”

“I have a jacket. Plus, I’ll be indoors,” you answer.

He hums and nods. “Are you coming back tonight?”

“I think so. If not, then I’ll be at Soobin’s place.”

For the first time, Beomgyu has the decency to not make a face when you bring up Soobin. Instead, he looks away and lets out a heavy exhale. Well, improvement is improvement. You’ll take it.

“Who else will be there?” he asks.

“Some of his friends.” You see him tense a bit at your side from the information. A slight unease fills you, but you don’t let it consume your mood. Tonight will be fun. You can’t let anything ruin it already.

“Are they all guys?”

You pause for a second in thought. “I’m not sure.”

He looks down and shakes his head in disbelief. “So you’re going to his place with a bunch of random guys?”

You pucker your lips and look down, feeling like you’re getting scolded. Was this a bad decision? Maybe you should have done this at a public place. Beomgyu’s words worry you. Soobin’s not that kind of guy, though, and you’re sure his friends are just as great as he is. He’s thoughtful and always concerned about your feelings. You shouldn’t be nervous.

“I trust him,” you say, making Beomgyu scoff. “Gyu, please.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just… worried.” He meets your eyes in the mirror. He really does look worried. You realize that maybe it’s not selfishness driving his words this time, not the need to keep you to himself, but the need to make sure you’re safe. Your heart softens at that.

“I’ll be okay,” you promise, giving him a small smile. “I’ll call you if anything goes wrong.” He nods and stays quiet for a second.

“Where does he live?” Beomgyu asks. You freeze at his question, but he’s quick to explain, “So I know where to go if something happens.”

He means well, you’re sure, but you’re still wary about giving him Soobin’s address. Of course you understand his concern, but another part of you wonders what he’ll do with it if nothing happens. He doesn’t exactly have a great streak with Soobin.

Is this you being paranoid? You feel like you have a legitimate reason to be cautious, but you also feel bad for thinking about your best friend like he’s some freak that’ll show up to Soobin’s house for no reason.

“I’ll just share my location if it comes to that.” You hope he doesn’t feel offended.

“Let me walk you to his place at least,” Beomgyu pleads. You sigh, trying not to look at him and focusing on your appearance instead.

“Don’t be so worried. I’ll be back by ten. Does that make you happier?”

He doesn’t hide his smile. “You know it does. You should watch me play League when you get back.”

You roll your eyes. “Watch you get it on with your one true love?”

“Weirdo. I love more things than just League.”

“Like Overwatch?” That earns you a smack to the back of your head. “Hey! Careful with my hair!”

You catch a glimpse of the time when your phone lights up, and you realize you’ve been taking too long to get ready. Why does time only fly in the most inconvenient moments? You take one final glance at yourself, ignoring Beomgyu’s frame in the mirror beside you.

“You sure you don’t need me to walk you there?” Beomgyu asks. You turn to him with a smile, and it takes a surprising amount of effort to not go up and loop your hands around his neck. You can’t help but feel endeared by his cuteness. You stay quiet for a few seconds just to look into his eyes.

“I’m sure,” you finally answer. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” Beomgyu sits on your bed, and you wonder if that’s where he plans on staying while you’re out.

“Be safe,” he says as you’re heading out of your room.

You look over your shoulder with a grin. “No promises!” The flash of fear on his face makes you laugh. “I’m just kidding!”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You gather your breath as you stand before Soobin’s door, not wanting to knock until you’ve fully collected yourself. Your heart races in anticipation—well, also because you walked twice as fast as usual to get here, but mostly anticipation. Soobin seemed to get along with your friends, so you can assume that his friends should get along just fine with you too.

Finally, you tap your knuckles against the door, swaying on your feet as you wait for Soobin to emerge. It’s cold outside, the kind of cold where your breath fogs up with even the tiniest exhale, so you hope he’s quick to answer your knock.

You give Soobin a hug as soon as he opens the door. Part of it is to feed off some of his warmth, but most of it is because you’re excited to see him. His arms wrap around you to hold you close to him, and he doesn’t let go until you do.

“Are your friends here yet?” you ask when you pull away.

“Yes, they’re in the living room,” he answers. “Did you want a drink or anything?”

You shake your head. You’re too impatient to see his friends, wondering what kind of people he hangs out with. You follow him into the living room, and your eyes immediately fall on the two boys on the couch. It makes sense that his friend group is on the smaller side. They must be very close.

You wave and introduce yourself to his friends cheerfully. They do the same, and you learn that his friends are named Taehyun and Kai. Kai seems just as shy and endearingly awkward as Soobin, but Taehyun is pretty quick to open up to you. You find yourself talking to him a lot. You’re glad that you’re not the only chatty person here.

“So how’d you guys meet?” you eventually ask them, interested in how their friend group formed. The question makes Kai and Soobin laugh.

“I was friends with both of them before they knew each other,” Taehyun starts, leaning forward as he tells the story. “I had this match I wanted them to watch”—

“Match?” you interrupt, tilting your head.

“Yeah, I was really into boxing at the time.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the information. That explains his muscular physique. You can’t imagine Soobin watching a boxing match, though. “Oh, boxing, wow.”

“Obviously I won the match, but that’s beside the point.”

“You did not win,” Soobin chimes in with an incredulous laugh.

“Yes I did! I literally won by knockout!” Taehyun defends.

“I still feel like the other guy got way more hits in than you,” Soobin says.

“I think you’re just still mad from what happened that night.” That piques your interest.

“Why? What happened?” you ask.

“He’s gonna tell it way more dramatically than it was,” Soobin warns.

“That’s probably true,” Kai chimes in.

“I’ll say exactly what happened,” Taehyun starts. “After my match, I went to Soobin and Kai, and we all got to talking. Eventually, I brought them to the practice rooms so I could show them some basic MMA moves.”

“After basically forcing us to!” Soobin exclaims. “I tried to say no!”

Taehyun starts laughing already, seemingly caught up in the memory. It puts a smile on your face as you wait for him to finish the story. “These guys start swinging with the weakest moves I’ve seen in my life,” he says through his laughter. “And I was trying to motivate them, but when I pushed the sandbag so it would swing toward Soobin, it hit him so hard it knocked him over.”

You cover your mouth with your hands, concealing your amusement and looking towards Soobin to gauge his reaction to the story. He wears a sheepish smile and leans his head down, rubbing his arm to ease his embarrassment. Taehyun’s still laughing his ass off when you look back at him.

Kai stands to Soobin’s defense, “He didn’t really get knocked over, he just stumbled back.”

“He did more than stumble back,” Taehyun says. “He had his arms swinging in circles to save himself and everything.” That image gets a chuckle out of you.

“So upon my first impression of Soobin, I could tell he was on the unathletic side. I kind of am too, though,” Kai says.

“Don’t worry, Soobin. I don’t think I’d fare any better in the MMA world,” you say.

“We can be the world class losers of boxing instead,” he jokes.

The night lives on with lots of laughter and snacks. You start playing card games at one point, to which they have to extensively explain the rules first, and you end up having more fun than you expected to have. Turns out you’re not too shabby of a Spades player.

Taehyun and Kai head out after a couple hours, saying goodbye to you and telling you that they hope to see you again soon. You actually enjoyed yourself a lot today, so you wouldn’t mind seeing them again either.

Once Soobin’s friends are out the door, it leaves just the two of you in his living room. You see Soobin yawning and stretching out in his chair. “Are you tired?” you ask. His sleepy nod makes you laugh a little.

“You can sleep on my bed if you want. I’ll take the couch,” Soobin offers. What a sweetheart. You must be smiling so stupidly, but you can’t help it. Your heart is a fickle thing.

“Thank you, but I promised Beomgyu I’d come back home tonight,” you say.

Soobin looks out the window. “It’s so dark out, though. And it’s freezing, your jacket won’t be enough. Your legs will be ice.”

“It’s okay, I’m good at handling the cold.” You aren’t really, but you don’t want him to worry. He frowns, looking down at your outfit.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me. I think you look pretty in everything. I’d love for you to dress warmly next time.” There’s a distinct hammering in your chest now. His compliment makes you weak in the knees.

He grabs your coat and delivers it to you. You thank him as you put it on, zipping it all the way up to prepare for the cold. You smile up at him in hopes that it eases his worries.

“Let me grab you a winter hat,” Soobin says, disappearing for a minute. He emerges once more with a beanie in hand, placing it on your head for you. “There. To keep your ears warm.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at yourself shyly. You’re not the type to get all flustered and quiet, but something about Soobin brings it out of you.

“Thanks for seeing me, and for meeting my friends.” You meet his eyes again when he says that.

“Of course. Today was fun,” you say. You stare at each other for a few long seconds as you linger by his door. You don’t really want to leave.

Soobin is every bit as handsome as ever, and suddenly it’s killing you that you’re not all over him. You want to grab his shoulders and pull him close, let your souls intertwine for just a few moments. You want to feel his breath on your face, you want his eyes on your lips and a yearning to stir inside him.

Your heart jumps, every thought in your head is filled with something about kissing Soobin. You’re so easily reduced to instincts when your mind is clouded like this. Your face is pulled by some unknown force closer and closer toward his face. Your eyelids flutter, and you tilt your head just slightly.

All to meet nothing.

“Not yet…” Soobin says, slowly retracting his face. You watch him back away from you, and the inches start to feel like miles. A sense of humiliation washes over you. Your face heats up. Why did you do that?

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking up at him apologetically. At least he doesn’t seem mad or upset—that would kill you.

He shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t be.” He presses his lips to your forehead. You reach for his hand, holding it so that you know he won’t try to leave. He accepts your touch easily, lacing your fingers together and staring into your eyes. There’s a warmth in there that makes you want to lean in and try to kiss him again, but your humility saves you from that.

“Can I ask, when will you be ready?” Your voice is meek, and a part of you almost fears his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready to call me your boyfriend,” he answers softly, simply. You nod, considering his words. Your gaze must be distant because you’re so deep in your thoughts, wondering if maybe you are ready now.

Does your heart stop at the idea of calling him yours because it entices you, or because it scares you? You don’t want to waste Soobin’s time standing here to contemplate it; you know you’re going to need more than a couple minutes to figure this out. No matter how much you want to, you can’t act on impulse with him—you want to foster a love that’s true and natural.

“I think I’ll have that answer soon,” you say.

“Don’t worry about it. You could take a year if you need.” His words are so effortless, and he really means it, which pushes your heart further towards a path alongside him.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say, blinking up at him sweetly with a small smile.

He squeezes your hands. “Soon can’t come soon enough.”

You giggle, then stand on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. “As a goodbye present.” His blushing cheeks at your action serve as a goodbye present for you.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Something changed last night. Your mind can’t stray from Soobin for too long, wondering when you’ll see him next, what he’s doing right now, how his day has been. You feel a yearning unlike any kind you’ve felt before. Your girlish heart has become something weak, so prone to go haywire at the slightest thought of him.

More than anything else, you think of calling him yours. You think of how you’d be able to spend the night at his place, cuddling up to him and falling asleep in his arms. You think of how you could stare into his eyes and call him your boyfriend. You could lean in and kiss him whenever you wanted, you could let him call you sweet pet names.

You think you might be ready. You want to be Soobin’s girlfriend.

You’re freaking out, body buzzing as you pace around your room, waiting for Chaewon to pick up the phone.

“Heyyyyy,” her voice greets through the phone, and you finally stop pacing to focus on talking.

“I got huge Soobin news,” you say, getting straight to the point.

“Tell me!!!” she screeches.

“I think I’m gonna ask him to be my boyfriend next time I see him.” That earns you an even higher pitched screech.

“Shut the fuck up, I’m so excited! Oh my god. What happened?”

“I literally just can’t stop thinking about being in a relationship with him. It feels like I’m going through withdrawals whenever I’m not with him. He’s been wanting to put a label on us, but I’ve been pushing it off till now,” you explain.

“I’m so invested in this. You would be the cutest couple ever. I will gladly be your third wheel and take all your cute Instagram photos for you,” she rambles.

“So you think it’s a good idea?” Her approval is important to you, and you’re desperate for her to give you a little more confidence in this.

“Yes, do it. As long as you make me your maid of honor.”

You laugh, so relieved that Chaewon supports you in this. You hope Beomgyu takes it just as well, but of course that’s wishful thinking.

“What’s the right way to ask him? Should I be casual or go all out with some extravagant date night?” you ask.

“Come on, it’s you we’re talking about. Obviously you’re gonna go crazy with it.” You laugh because she’s totally right.

“I’m thinking a hotel by the sea and a rose petal path to the bed. And candles, like so many it’s a fire hazard.”

“Yes, and then those eat me panties,” she adds. You burst out laughing at the idea. “Body oil too probably.”

“Oh, you got the whole vision. You want me to record it for you too?” you tease.

“No need, I’ll be hiding in your suite’s closet.”

“Thrilling. I finally get to help you live out your voyeuristic dreams.”

“Right? It’s a win-win,” she says. “But anyway, how do you think Beomgyu’s gonna react?”

You hum in thought. “I don’t know, but we’ve pretty much gone back to normal over the past few days. He didn’t put up a huge fight when I went to Soobin’s last night.”

“Girl, hold up. You went to Soobin’s place?!”

“Yep.”

She’s quiet for a second. “Did he rock your world?” You smile and roll your eyes.

“We didn’t have sex, I just met his friends. They were very nice, by the way.”

She tsks. “I’m so mad, you missed out on such a perfect opportunity to sex him up.”

“Well, I’ll let you know when that happens.”

“Please do.”

“Anyway,” you say, getting back on track. “I’ll tell Beomgyu when he gets back from work. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if he gets all annoying about it. It’s actually pissing me off just imagining it.”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s not his life. You don’t even have to tell him,” Chaewon reasons.

“I mean, he’s my best friend, he should know. You and him are the two people I talk to about everything.”

“Yeah, but at this point you should be more focused on protecting your peace. What Beomgyu doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

You know that Beomgyu would find out eventually, though, and then he’d be even more mad at you for not saying something sooner. Any peace you’d have would be very temporary and delicate.

Chaewon starts up again, “I honestly think you should tell him after you make things official. That way he can’t stop you from doing it.”

You hold back a groan, not wanting to weigh out the options. “He’ll be so upset if I don’t tell him first,” you say.

“Still. He knows he can make you halt those plans, and I don’t want you getting hurt again.” You frown, but it softens you to hear how much Chaewon cares about your feelings.

“I’ve got a few hours until he comes back to decide,” you say.

“Just know that I’m one hundred percent team ‘don’t tell him’. Up to you, though.”

“I’ll let you know. Anyway, I’m gonna go now. Going to rehearse this conversation in my head.” Chaewon laughs and says her goodbye, then you hang up.

You drop onto your bed with a sigh. You hope Beomgyu can keep being normal about Soobin, and a part of you really thinks he can, but what if he hates you after this? He might decide he doesn’t want anything to do with you if you’re going to be in a relationship with a guy that he hates. (Hates for no reason, but that’s not something you choose to dwell on today.)

Beomgyu should understand why you want a love life. You crave a second half, someone who will mold you into a better person and navigate the rest of your life with you. Soobin can soften your rough edges. He’s got all the patience and goodness of heart that you need in someone. You want to know that a kind of love exists that you have not yet felt, something deeper and more colorful than anything you know. You want Soobin’s eyes to melt you each time you look into them, each time you think of them. Your heart has grown tired of just being a beating thing; it needs to be lit aflame, to burn for someone, to love so hard it doesn’t fear ruin.

Do you need Beomgyu’s permission for that? Is it as if he’s some guard to your heart? No, but the threat of conflict from his disapproval unnerves you. You try thinking of the best way to break the news to him.

Some long-winded explanation where you pour out your heart would probably irritate him most. You’ll have to keep yourself from going off on tangents—the more you say, the more ammunition he has against you. It’s not like you have to defend your decision to him.

If you’re too broad or dismissive about it, he’ll assume you don’t care or you’re hiding something. His accusations peeve you like nothing else, so the more you can avoid that, the better.

Realistically, his reaction doesn’t depend on your wording, for the most part. It depends on how mature he is about you getting a boyfriend. If he can’t handle the idea, then it won’t matter how you break the news, he’ll freak out no matter what. If he can accept that you can have other men in your life, then he won’t give you a hard time about this.

All you can do is hope for the better outcome. You pray that Beomgyu has learned his lesson in maturity by now.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

When you hear Beomgyu open the door, you rush down the hall to him. You’ve spent all day considering how to have the conversation about Soobin, and you’re excited to just get it over with now. The sooner this weight falls off your shoulders, the better.

“Hiii,” you greet as you watch him take off his coat and shoes.

“Hi. You hungry?” he asks. You shake your head.

“I had lunch an hour ago.” You notice he ordered food somewhere, which he just stuffs in the fridge.

“Do you wanna hang out with me and Yeonjun tomorrow night?” he asks. “We’re gonna watch some band perform at the common.”

“Depends how I feel after work.”

“Alright. You should definitely come though.” You don’t know how to respond to that, so you just don’t. You’ve got a different conversation on your mind anyway.

After a few seconds, Beomgyu starts walking off, but you call his name to stop him before he gets too far. He looks at you expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

“I wanted to talk about something,” you say. He remains still for a second, then carefully takes a few steps closer to you.

“Bad thing or good thing?” he asks.

You hesitate for a second. “Good thing.” You’re feeling nervous again, even though you know you shouldn’t be. Beomgyu’s been fine. He’ll survive if you tell him this.

“You don’t look like it’s a good thing,” he says. He must have caught on to your anxiety. Your fidgeting hands probably gave it away. You hold them behind your back so you stop fiddling with them. You breathe in as deeply as you can without making it too obvious that you’re calming your nerves.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to ask Soobin to be my boyfriend.”

You wait for a reaction. He blinks. Is that a good sign? He’s still breathing, too. Okay, so the news didn’t kill him at least.

“You’re asking him to be your boyfriend?” he repeats, as if he didn’t hear you right the first time.

Fuck, why is your heart pounding so hard? “Yes.”

He sighs and averts his gaze, looking around for a few awkward seconds. You tighten your lips, not really knowing what to do now.

“Your boyfriend?” he asks again.

You give him a curt nod. “Yep.”

You see it flash in his eyes then, something that brings you back to all those times he made your life so difficult. He doesn’t even need to say anything for you to start feeling disappointed, that expression was more than enough.

“I tried backing off, but I just can’t do it anymore. You can’t do this,” he insists. Your head is going to explode. Not this again. Things were going so well.

“Stop. I don’t want to hear it,” you say, but you know he won’t listen.

“I can’t stand it. I hate thinking about how much you like him, how you kiss him, how he’s doing everything I could be doing,” he rambles.

“I’m not hearing this,” you dismiss as you start walking down the hall to your room. You feel Beomgyu’s presence loom behind you. He sure is determined. “Knock it off, Gyu.”

He pushes the door open when you try to close it, stepping in and facing your hard stare. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t back off. You feel inclined to be stubborn and stand your ground too.

“You want me to change? You want me to be more like him?” he asks. There’s something unhinged in his expression. It’s like he’s losing his grip on his sanity. Fear creeps up your spine, but it doesn’t overshadow your frustration.

“No, I like you the way you are,” you answer.

“No you don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t need Soobin.” He sounds angry, you must have really bothered him this time. That’s okay. You’ll take this over his pity parties. It’s easier to fight fire with fire.

“I don’t need Soobin, I just like him,” you say.

“Then what’s wrong with me?” he counters. He’s really worked up this time, frustration radiating off of him.

“Nothing! You need to stop with this!” you exclaim. You’ve never had an argument like this with him, fueled by rage and nothing else. There’s no undertones of sadness or attempts to remain calm this time.

“Just tell me you hate me,” he says, stepping closer to you, invading your space. You meet his gaze, unwavering, even if you have to tilt your head up to challenge his stare.

“I don’t fucking hate you.” You cross your arms, not letting your guard down.

“Then prove it,” he says. You wonder if your eyes hold as much fire as his do right now. You refuse to back down. You refuse to lose this. He wants you to prove you don’t hate him? Fine.

You don’t let yourself think about it as you crash your lips onto his. You hold his head still, but it’s not like he was going to run away. He meets your lips with equal amounts passion and frustration. The kiss is nothing friendly or nice—it’s not soft and slow, not sweet, not the dreamlike kiss you’ve been waiting to have with Soobin. This feels less like a kiss and more like war.

You don’t hold yourself back, sucking and biting at his lips carelessly. Your fingers are pulling so hard at his hair that you know it has to hurt, but you don’t care. You hope it does. His hand is on your jaw, keeping you in place so he can lick into your mouth as he pleases.

You hope he tastes your anger on your lips. You hope your tongue feels bitter in his mouth, that it leaves burns in its wake. You hope this kiss will haunt him at night, that he’ll feel you lingering hours later, that he sees your face on his ceiling when he’s trying to fall asleep.

He can never settle for friendship. The simple life could have been so good if he accepted it. You were stupid to think he’d let things go back to normal and stay that way. You hate feeling so dumb. You hate being so easy.

“Is that what you fucking wanted?” you ask as you pull away from the kiss. You wipe your mouth to clear the saliva that collected there. He doesn’t answer, only pulling you in for another kiss, unforgiving and angry. Your teeth clash and he shoves his tongue into your mouth. He tangles his hands into your hair, pushing you deeper into the kiss.

You’ve never felt so angry at him in your life. You try to channel it all into the kiss, using more force than necessary. He should pay for doing this, for getting under your skin yet again.

He growls into your mouth—you guess he’s still angry too. Why should he be? You’re making out with him and no one else. If he wants to complain about that, then he must really be losing his mind.

You walk him backwards until he sits back on your bed, disconnecting your mouths so you can look down at him. His lips are swollen and coated with saliva. He’s hungry—starving—and can’t stand not touching you for even a second, so he grabs your hips and pulls you onto the bed with him.

There goes those walls you built up. There goes those weeks of putting in effort towards you and Soobin. You lose, again. Is this how it will always be with him? Was he playing the long game all along?

He knows you better than anyone. If anyone could figure out a way to set your life off course, it would be Beomgyu.

You have to get even with him. You have to stop taking everything lying down. You stare at him, who looks up at you like he’s waiting for your next move. Fucking prick. You’ll show him.

You shove his pants past his hips and pull his cock out to find him already fully hard. You’re not surprised. Precum oozes from his slit, leaking out on his tip. When you look up to see his face, he’s biting his lip in anticipation.

“Always need to have your fucking way, huh,” you say, squeezing the base of his cock. He throws his head back and moans, thrusting up into your fist. You let go of his dick to push his hips down with angry force. “Don’t you dare move.”

You spit into your hand and jerk his cock quickly, with little care as to how rough you are with him. You squeeze his length like you’re milking him, like you’re trying to get him to burst. If you can embarrass him and have him spilling all over himself in such a short amount of time, you’d feel on top of the world.

He’s thick and hot in your hand, but you don’t let it cloud your mind. You need to put him in his place. He doesn’t deserve a spot in the lustful crevices of your mind right now. This is about balancing the scale.

You keep your stare hard even as he cries and whimpers. You don’t let him see any reaction out of you, because the last thing you want is for him to take control of the situation again. At least like this, you feel like you’re not totally weak for him.

His hips jolt up and he gasps at your ministrations. He grabs onto your wrist, trying to pry you off.

“Behave,” your order, no room for compromise in your voice.

“Baby! Baby, stop, I’m gonna”—his sentence is cut off by a drawn-out moan. It’s like his body can’t decide whether to run away from your hand or rut into it.

“Fucking do it then,” you say through gritted teeth, fucking your fist over him faster. You spit onto his cock to lubricate it even more.

“No, not yet,” he pleads, breathing heavily. It’s cute watching him try to escape the feeling, but you won’t let him. You use your other hand to fondle his balls, and once you do that, he’s a goner. He’s spilling his seed onto your hand with his head thrown back and a loud cry. His hips stutter up into your fist, and his cock twitches in your hand. You feel a bit of a power high from that.

You slow down for only a few seconds before you’re pumping him wildly again. He looks at you with wide, helpless eyes. His body’s jolting with the shocks of overstimulation, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at that.

Beomgyu whimpers your name pathetically. His arms are shaking as they cling onto yours. You don’t relent, merciless as you try to coax another orgasm from him.

“It’s too much!” he cries, and you can even hear the shake in his voice.

“Take what I give you or I’ll leave,” you spit. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I can take it.” He pries his arms off you and keeps them at his sides, deciding he wants to be good and listen all of a sudden.

“That’s what I thought.” You twist your hand as it goes down on his length, squeezing harder. Your thumb swipes over his slit when it reaches the head of his cock. “Cum for me, dirty little puppy. Show me how filthy you are.”

As you command it, his orgasm crashes over him immediately. You watch in awe. It’s like he’s trained to follow your words. His hot cum lands on your hand yet again, and you continue jerking him until his high is over. You have to stop yourself from making him cum a third time, too addicted to his little sounds of pleasure.

“Thank you,” Beomgyu says breathlessly. You run your fingers through his hair with your clean hand.

“Looks like the dirty pup is good for something,” you coo condescendingly.

“I am good, let me show you. Sit on my face.” Before you can even respond, he’s already lying down and sticking his tongue out. You furrow your brows at his eagerness and decide to put his mouth to use a different way. Your cum-coated hand meets his tongue, and you let him lave at his mess all over you.

“Hm, guess your tongue is pretty good,” you say mindlessly as you watch him lick all his cum off you. When he finishes cleaning your hand, he sucks two of your fingers past his lips. You smirk and slowly fuck them in and out of his desperate mouth. He swirls his tongue around your digits, then licks up between them. He circles the tip of his tongue on the skin between your two fingers as if it was your clit. You wish it didn’t make your pussy throb.

You pull your fingers out of his mouth and spread them apart, admiring the strand of saliva that forms. You take off your bottoms and panties, and Beomgyu damn near starts panting in excitement.

“Yes, come sit on my face, let me taste your cunt,” he babbles, stars in his eyes. His excitement dies when your saliva-slickened fingers meet your core instead. You make sure he has a great view as you play with your pussy.

“You got me so nice and wet, thank you puppy.” Your voice is sweet, even if your motive is to torture him. You exaggerate your reactions to your touch, moaning extra loud when you circle your clit. Your other hand disappears under your shirt to play with your nipples. You bite your lip as you push your hips up into your hand.

Beomgyu sits up and watches you with a slackened jaw. He starts leaning in between your legs, and you push him away with a foot to his chest.

“Uh-uh, you can’t touch,” you tell him.

“But look! My fingers are longer and thicker than yours,” he says, holding out his hand. You roll your hips up into your hand, remembering the way his fingers felt inside you. You slip two fingers into your cunt to make up for the sudden emptiness you feel.

You fuck yourself with vigor, pistoning your fingers into you, putting on a good show for your best friend. You want him to think you’re not some weak girl who folds for his touch every time. Even though your body yearns for Beomgyu to take care of you, you have to make a point to him.

You get so lost in the feeling of your own fingers that you stop looking at Beomgyu, focusing entirely on the pleasure taking over. That was clearly a mistake, because suddenly you feel two of his fingers entering your pussy alongside your own. You cry out at the sensation, body shaking at the stretch.

It’s hard to move your hand now, but Beomgyu seems to find a way perfectly fine. “B-bad boy,” you scold, but your voice is so shaky that it holds no real bite. When he aims his fingers up, it forces your own to sit snug against your g-spot, resting there as Beomgyu jackhammers into you.

“See? Feels good,” he says. With his other hand, he rubs at your clit viciously, needing to please you more than you can please yourself. “This is so much better, right?”

Your body is buzzing, and you can’t even respond to him. Your mouth hangs open stupidly as he pulls moan after moan from you. A foreign pressure starts building inside of you, more intense than anything you’ve felt before. Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hips away, but Beomgyu’s determined.

“P-puppy, it feels different,” you manage to stutter out. His breath hitches and he connects his mouth to your inner thigh to kiss it. He doesn’t stop his ministrations—if anything, your words encourage him to go even harder.

“You’re gonna squirt for me?” he says with astonishment, and you feel his grin growing against your thigh. It’s blinding, the way the pleasure is consuming you. His hands are wild, working at you without mercy to bring you over the edge. It’s like he needs this more than you.

“I’m—nngh, oh god,” you stammer, body twitching away, but Beomgyu’s so desperate to see you fall apart that he doesn’t let you stray from the feeling for even a second. The pressure snaps and you cry out, legs kicking out as you release all over him. You feel your juices squirting out of you, and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve been embarrassed at how much seems to leak out.

Beomgyu loves it, lapping up what spills onto his wrist and your thighs. You’re shaking uncontrollably, immediately pulling your hand from your center once Beomgyu draws back. You focus more on gathering your breath after that orgasm than on Beomgyu’s tongue licking every inch of your thighs.

You flinch when his tongue finds your pussy, too sensitive to take anymore. You push his head away and sit up, snapping your legs shut. He pouts, but sits up as well.

“Was that good?” he asks, biting down a smile. He leans in like he really wants to know your answer.

You press your palms into your eyes like you’re relieving a headache. Rationality comes back to you, but there’s no point in yelling at him now. You’re the one who shoved your hand down his pants.

“You really don’t want me dating Soobin, huh?” You feel more exhausted than angry now.

“I’ll do so much worse if you make him your boyfriend,” he says.

You blink at him. Is that some kind of threat? “What do you mean?”

“Just don’t be with him and you won’t have to find out.” You don’t have it in you to fight him. If it was this easy for you to fall back on your word and get intimate with Beomgyu again, you might as well hold off on the boyfriend label anyway. Maybe you weren’t as ready as you thought you were.

“You can leave my room now,” you say, leaning your head against your pillow. You’ll probably spend the next hour contemplating everything you’ve been through in the past month. He doesn’t need to be there for that.

“Nah.” He lays down beside you. You inhale slowly, gathering the control to not push him off the mattress.

“Whatever.” You’ll just have your mini crisis with him next to you. It doesn’t even matter.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

To your surprise, you don’t feel completely miserable the next day. Of course, you go throughout the day feeling awful about ruining your chance to be with Soobin any time soon and angry at yourself for touching Beomgyu again, but besides that you’re feeling normal.

You wish your work day would have lasted a little longer—something you never thought you’d hope for—because when you get home and see Beomgyu on the couch, you’re already feeling annoyed. You were doing so good before yesterday. Seeing him is just a reminder of how much you screwed up.

He seems as giddy as he could ever be when you approach him on the couch. You grab a blanket and curl yourself into his side wordlessly, just wanting his warmth. He accepts it gratefully, throwing an arm over you and getting you comfortable.

You can’t even really feel upset. You’re familiar with this cycle already: Beomgyu will bitch about Soobin to you, you’ll get each other off, you’ll argue some more, then you’ll hang out like nothing happened. You put yourself back in this situation, so you spare yourself the pity.

“I’m so glad we’re back to this. It was killing me to not hold you all those days,” Beomgyu says before pressing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I don’t want you to be upset anymore.”

“I’m not upset,” you say flatly.

“I want you to be happy. I’m really happy now.” You only hum in acknowledgement. You don’t really have anything to say to that.

Some time passes in which you and Beomgyu watch television, except you’re mostly going on your phone and Beomgyu’s halfway to falling asleep. You get a notification from Soobin, making you freeze for a moment.

[Soobin] We should meet up tonight if you’re available :)

Beomgyu reads the text over your shoulder. “You better not say yes.” You flinch and back away from him, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Why not?” you ask.

“Cause you said you’d go with me and Yeonjun to the concert!” he whines.

“I didn’t say I was gonna go with you and Yeonjun,” you counter. The entitlement is crazy.

“I asked you first though. If you feel fine enough to hang out with Soobin, why can’t you hang out with me?” he asks.

“What have we been doing for the past hour?”

“That doesn’t count! We live with each other, we have to hang out at home.”

“Wow, ungrateful. You should thank the universe for each second you get to spend with me, home or not.”

“I do. I can show you how grateful I am too, if you want.” You roll your eyes at his suggestion.

“I think I’m okay,” you say. When you lift your phone back up, Beomgyu takes it from your hand and tosses it gently onto the floor. You watch it land a few feet away from you. You don’t feel like getting up to grab it, so you let the device stay where it is. You settle with insulting him instead, “You suck.”

“I don’t want you to hang out with him tonight,” he complains with a pout. “I want my best friend.”

“Gyu, you’ll live.” What a flair for the dramatics he has.

“Just this once, please,” he begs. “You know you’re going to feel guilty and awkward hanging out with Soobin after what we did yesterday anyway.”

Shit. You hate it when he’s right.

You sigh, “Fine.” You’re enveloped in his embrace immediately, face smushed into his chest as he cheers in victory. “This better be the best band I see perform in my life.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The concert is pretty mediocre. The band consists of some grungy college-aged boys who sing about being depressed and cheating on girls. Not quite your music of choice, but you enjoy your time as much as you can nonetheless.

Beomgyu’s arm stays slumped over your shoulders pretty much the entire time. For warmth reasons, you don’t complain, but it is pretty embarrassing to see Yeonjun looking at the two of you weirdly from time to time. He must be able to sense that something’s off between you.

Beomgyu splits off at some point to buy a water bottle somewhere, and you’re left alone to talk to Yeonjun. He doesn’t even spare you a glance at first, which makes you think he might be having a bad day.

“You like this band?” you ask him, breaking the silence. You’re confused why he glares at you when he finally turns his head your way.

“You like Beomgyu?” he retorts, voice filled with some weird scorn.

“Woah, what?”

“Aren’t you dating Soobin? Why are you letting Beomgyu touch you?”

You have no clue where this is coming from. Beomgyu must have been talking to Yeonjun about the things you two did together. “Did Beomgyu say something to you?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says. “He’s been telling me all about how you’re sleeping with him while seeing Soobin.”

That motherfucker. He’s bragging about banging you to other guys? You’re nearly seeing red, but you keep your composure so you don’t look crazy in front of Yeonjun. “Soobin and I aren’t exclusive,” you defend.

Yeonjun gives you a humorless laugh. “Would you be happy if Soobin was fucking other girls right now?”

The thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. “I wouldn’t like it, but I”—

“Don’t lie. You’d cry your heart out.” Yeonjun levels you with a knowing stare. You meet it, unwavering, but you know he’s right.

“You don’t know the whole story. I tried putting a stop to it,” you say.

“And what? You relapsed like he’s some drug? You need to get real.”

You want to be mad, but what’s the point? You’re getting reality checked, and it burns, but maybe Yeonjun’s right.

“Beomgyu puts up a fight every time I talk about Soobin. He won’t let me be.” You feel defensive, like you have to prove you’re not totally at fault.

“So you let him down easy with some pussy?” he asks with sizable disappointment in his voice. God, this is embarrassing.

“You don’t get it.” It’s not like you didn’t say no to him before. You tried removing yourself from the room, you tried telling him this can’t happen, you tried everything except leaving him. It doesn’t work.

“I don’t have to get it. You should do better.” The conversation ends at that, his words left to linger in your mind.

You stand silently beside Yeonjun and stare blankly at the band on the stage. Time has got to move a little faster. You pray Beomgyu doesn’t take much longer getting back.

When he does come back, you don’t let him cling to you like a magnet. He looks at you a little weird for rejecting his arm around you, but he doesn’t say anything until you get in his car.

“Are you okay? You seem kinda pissed.” His question only serves to irritate you further.

“You told Yeonjun that we sleep with each other?” You don’t hide the anger from your voice. He looks at you with wide eyes. Clearly he knows he fucked up. “I never once let you put your dick in me.”

Beomgyu breathes out slowly, then pouts his lips and taps awkwardly on the steering wheel. You allow him his minute of shameful silence before starting up again, “Do you just not respect me? I doubt you told him what exactly led to this.”

He still doesn’t look at you. He can try all the cute, pitiful tactics he wants, you’re not falling for it this time.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, head down like he’s hating his life right now. Good, you hope he is.

“If you’re really sorry then you’ll stop doing anything more than platonic with me.” He looks at you with upturned brows and scared eyes. It’s as if you spoke his worst fear into reality.

“No, I’ll tell Yeonjun I lied, I promise,” he pleads.

“Why? You didn’t lie. I’m just some whore you get to brag about, right?”

“No! I lied, I was wrong, I should have never opened my mouth to Yeonjun. I’m stupid.” Ugh, you can’t take his self-pity.

“We’re never crossing that line again. I was stupid. I’m actually glad Yeonjun gave me that reality check.”

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to stop, I’ll just shut my mouth about it now,” he says.

“I don’t want to risk ruining everything anymore.” He has nothing to say to that. It’s eerily quiet for a moment. “Can you bring us home now?”

He puts the car in drive. The ride is silent the whole way home.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The longest week of your life passes by, in which you barely hang out with Beomgyu, barely see Soobin, and barely talk to anyone. You consider it to be a reset week for you, trying to detach yourself from everyone else to focus on finding out what you want. With so many complicated relationships in your life, you need plenty of time to think this through.

You spend a lot of nights considering what exactly you want from Beomgyu and Soobin. You weigh all your thoughts out and philosophize them, waiting for something to click and show you all the answers. What you learn instead is that no amount of contemplation is going to clear things up for you completely.

When looking at it honestly, your life has been a mess of ups and downs since meeting Soobin. It’s not his fault at all—actually, when you try to pin the blame on someone, the dart lands like a bullseye on your own face. And it’s not that Soobin is a bad influence on your life, making you do all these stupid things; instead, it’s that you have no willpower when it comes to Beomgyu.

So, do you end things with Soobin? You rack your brain for a smart answer, but it’s hard to even think anything after forming that sentence. A pit of emptiness forms in your chest instead, and avoiding that uncomfortable feeling is within your own self-interest.

You itch to call Chaewon more times than you can count, but you don’t let yourself give in. You want this to be something you tackle without the influence of anyone else. You already know how Chaewon would tell you to solve this, anyway.

A couple nights throughout the week, Beomgyu has knocked on your door, and neither time did you let him in. Out of everyone you know, he has the biggest influence on you. Your rational mind is thrown out the window when it comes to him. You don’t think that’s something you can stop or control.

He texts you and makes sure you’re okay, which you’re grateful for. You still eat dinner with him, and you even let yourself indulge in one movie night, but you’re trying to keep your distance so you can keep your head clear.

You’re at a mental standstill, looking down a multitude of paths that have no clear end. You could move in with Chaewon and make Soobin your boyfriend. You could end things with Soobin and see if you can go back to normal with Beomgyu. You could do nothing and give up your hand in this game.

You feel like you’re finding a new law of arithmetic trying to decide what to do next. You’re not the thinking type—clearly, as if the past couple months haven’t been proof enough—so you earn no insight and all headache from this.

Go you, trying to be independent and figure out your life on your own. Look where that got you, huddled up in your bedroom and even more depressed than before. You need a drink.

Matter of fact—

Wanna go to a bar?

You don’t even have to wait a minute for Chaewon’s response. ‘Bar’ to her is exactly what ‘squirrel’ is to dogs.

[Chaewon] You already know my answer. I’m getting ready right nowwww

No boy talk or I’m ending my shit in front of you

You need one night to just let loose and stop thinking. You’ve had enough of deliberating upon the men in your life this week.

[Chaewon] Oh you need those drinks bad

[Chaewon] Okay noted

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t expect to be interrogated as soon as you open the door to your apartment the next morning, but Beomgyu’s insistent prying serves as a lovely pairing with your massive hangover.

“Where were you last night?” he asks before you can even open the door all the way. You’re too busy adjusting to how bright the room is to process his question at first. You squint to save your eyeballs as much as you can. You walk right into Beomgyu when you try to properly enter the room. He holds your waist to steady your balance. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

You shake your head and instantly regret it, since it makes it feel like your brain is sloshing around inside your skull. “Hungover.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going out,” he says. He doesn’t sound mad or accusatory, but it still irritates you because you don’t want to deal with this right now.

“Didn’t realize I had to.”

“You always do when you go out drinking,” he reasons.

You sigh, “Yeah, well, I didn’t this time.”

He scrunches your brows as he takes in your tone. “Are you mad at me or something?”

You rub your eyes. You need to bury your head under your pillow, this light is killing you, and this conversation needs to be over with. “I’m not mad at you.”

He’s quiet for a second. “I feel like you are.”

“Okay. Have fun feeling like that.” You open one of the cabinets to look for some medicine.

“See? You’re talking to me like you’re mad at me. What did I do?” All your patience leaves you at that. You don’t want to be doing this right now.

You place the pill bottle onto the counter with more force than necessary and turn around abruptly to face Beomgyu. “I’m hungover. I don’t want to talk. Take a hint.”

He blinks at you stupidly, and it just annoys you more. You scoff and turn your attention back to the medicine.

“Were you with Soobin?” he asks, breaking the ten seconds of peace and quiet he allowed you.

You groan. “Does it matter? I could have fucked Soobin last night and it still wouldn’t be any of your concern.”

“Did you fuck Soobin last night?” he asks urgently now that you planted the thought in his head. You swallow your pills in place of answering him. He holds onto your arm to stop you from leaving when you try to walk past him. “Did you??”

“What if I did? Do you think you have any right to tell me anything about it?” You didn’t, obviously, but at this point you’ll say anything to get him to stop talking.

His jaw clenches and he tightens his lips, but you don’t give a damn what displays of anger he gives you. He could pull his arm back and get ready to punch you and you still wouldn’t waver. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

“I just—I don’t get—You’re not even…” He sure is having trouble finding his words. Some defense he’s got built up.

“Interesting.” You turn, ready to storm off to your room, but he stops you once again.

His hands stay clung to your shoulders, not even blinking as he turns you back toward him. “Please just tell me who you went out with.” He almost reeks of desperation.

You’re annoyed and you don’t owe him shit, so you don’t open your mouth to give him a response. You shrug with a straight face.

He whines and leans his head down onto your shoulder like you’ve just stabbed him in the gut. You roll your eyes. He always has to be the victim. You might just trudge to your room with him clinging onto you if he doesn’t give this up. You’ll get to your bed one way or another.

“What did I do? I’m so sorry. Why are you so mad at me?” he says, voice breaking like he’s holding back tears. He nuzzles further into your shoulder.

“Gyu, I swear, I’m just tired and my head hurts. You had nothing to do with this until five minutes ago. So please get off of me.” You push against him to try to pry him away, but he locks his arms around you. You sigh deeply, accepting his embrace because it’s not like you can run from it. You wait until enough time has passed where it’s safe for you to pull away without him freaking out.

“So you’re not mad at me?” he asks, giving you those sweet puppy eyes that you’d melt over any other time. Unfortunately, you’re still pissy and in need of rest, so you don’t coddle Beomgyu like you know he wants you to.

“No.” His lips tilt up just slightly at that. He wipes his eyes dramatically.

“Can I lay down with you then?” he asks, eyes carrying all his hope.

You shouldn’t, but you don’t want to deal with his moping if you don’t let him. “If you stay quiet and keep your distance.”

You’re already walking to your room when you hear him start complaining, “Keep my distance!?” You don’t stop to respond. Now that you have your sight on your bed, nothing could stop you from getting wrapped up in your blankets.

You fall against the mattress with a groan, smushing your head into your pillow. You register the bed dip next to you with Beomgyu’s weight, and you’re half-surprised that he allows you a respectable amount of space. A good five minutes pass in which you nearly fall asleep just listening to yours and Beomgyu’s breathing. Silence is always fleeting with Beomgyu, though, and it’s not long until he has to break it.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stop thinking about this. Did you seriously… sleep with Soobin?” Beomgyu asks in a quiet voice, words coming out hesitantly like he’s almost scared to ask.

You sigh, turning your head so you’re facing him instead of being buried in a pillow. You blink slowly, still wanting to fall asleep. He’s pouting and looks like he feels bad for even asking. Luckily for him, most of your annoyance evaporated from you the moment you laid down.

“No, I didn’t. It was just me and Chaewon,” you answer. You let your eyes flutter shut again, assuming the conversation would be over now.

Nope. “Why didn’t you tell me that earlier then?” You contemplate pretending to be asleep so that you don’t have to respond anymore, but you feel his arm wrap around your waist and you have to shove it off. There goes that idea. “And why can’t I hold you anymore?” he asks.

“Because of what we talked about after the concert.” Your eyes are still closed, but you bet he does something sassy in response like roll his eyes or curl his lips down.

“Well I think that’s stupid,” he says. You open your eyes to make sure he sees it when you scowl at him.

“You’re free to leave my room if you don’t want to respect my rules.”

“Putting rules on our friendship is so ridiculous,” he argues. “We have literally always been touchy with each other. Soobin can go cry about it if he thinks there’s a problem with that. Why should we change for him?”

“It’s me who’s putting these rules down, he never told me to do anything. It’s not just because of him, either.” Your head threatens to start pounding again.

“What else would it be for?”

“Us? Do you not worry that we’ll go too far and never be able to go back?” you ask incredulously, like the reasoning should be obvious. He must not fear losing this friendship the way you do.

“No, because I know nothing could break the bond between us.”

“Hooking up does. Don’t you see how much we’ve changed already? For the worse?” He’d be blind to deny that much.

“Hooking up didn’t change us, Soobin did,” he counters. He’s not holding anything back, overflowing with audacity today.

“I would have told you to stop with or without Soobin in my life.” Because you actually care about preserving your friendship. You know that a lifetime of shared memories is better than twenty minutes of sexual gratification.

“And you think this time will be any different from the last hundred times? You keep saying this is going to end, and then it doesn’t.”

“But I mean it this time,” you say with full confidence.

“You say that every time.”

“Then how about you make it easier for me and stop trying to get with me? It might make things easier if you actually fucking respected it when I try to lay down boundaries.”

“Or you can just say no to me, unless I’m that irresistible,” he snides. Is he serious? Does he think you’ve never tried to say no?

“Fuck you.” You turn away from him, done with this conversation. He doesn’t leave your bed, but he does keep his distance. Either he’s pissed off now too, or you’ve finally convinced him to respect you. Your bet’s on the former.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You’re getting ready to go out, wanting to spend your Sunday with Soobin. You haven’t seen him in a while, and you feel like you need this to clarify things for yourself. You aren’t supposed to meet him until later today, but you’re planning on running some errands first, and you might as well get ready now so you don’t have to rush to do it later.

The sounds of you roaming around your room seem to beckon Beomgyu over. He walks up to you with a soft smile on his face. “Heading out?” he asks.

“I am,” you confirm. You stop struggling with the necklace you were trying to put on and hand it to Beomgyu instead. You might as well make use of his presence. “Can you put this on for me?” You pull your hair off your neck to make it easier for him.

He’s able to secure the clasp much faster than you. He pats your shoulder when you’re all set, and you put your hair back down.

He’s quiet for a few seconds before he speaks up again, “I’m sorry for arguing with you yesterday.” He looks bashful as the apology rolls off his tongue.

You weren’t expecting that. You guys don’t really apologize to each other over small arguments, you just move on. You turn to face him so he can see your honesty. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

He laughs. “I deserved it.”

You shake your head. “No you didn’t.”

You two smile at each other, and it’s times like this where life feels a little simpler. It’s surreal that you share your own little section of the world together, and that you still get to have these bonding moments years after meeting.

“I’m glad that I have you in my life,” you say. “Even when I’m hungover and annoyed at you.”

His response comes in the form of a giggle and a squeeze of your hand. You allow it, letting him be sentimental.

“Okay, I need to continue with my makeup now,” you say, pulling away to rummage through your products and find your eyelash curler. Beomgyu lingers behind you, just watching.

“This skirt is really cute,” Beomgyu says, pinching the fabric of it.

“Thanks, I thrifted it.” He hums and nods in response. A minute passes in which he silently observes you.

“You doll yourself up a lot when you go out with Soobin.” You slowly turn to face him, not understanding the point of his statement.

“Is that a problem?” you ask. You didn’t even tell him you were going out with Soobin.

“No. You look good.” You hum and pull out mascara from your vanity’s drawer. You lean forward as you apply it to your lashes, trying your best to ignore Beomgyu’s stare.

A part of you is admittedly confused that Beomgyu isn’t trying to stop you from leaving or fighting with you about seeing Soobin. Just now, he was actually the most collected you’ve ever seen him be when it comes to Soobin. You don’t want to jinx it, so you try to shift your thoughts somewhere else.

You and Soobin are going to the vintage market later, since you found out that you both share a love for vintage things. (For him, it’s old gaming systems and figurines, and for you, it’s clothes and home decor.) You’re thinking about trying to convince him to get dinner with you too, but that might be pushing your luck. You know he had some errands to run today too.

“Those are nice,” Beomgyu says. You don’t know what he means until you see in the mirror where he’s looking. You widen your eyes and straighten your posture immediately. Bent over the vanity like that, your panties were on full display under your skirt. And to think you were sharing a sentimental moment just a few minutes ago!

You scowl at him. “Thanks for staring, creep.” You shove your mascara back in the drawer.

“I’m sure Soobin would love them,” he says. You pause as you register his words. You’re not sure what his goal is, or why he suddenly switched up so much. You decide it’s best to not add fuel to the fire and just keep your mouth closed.

Beomgyu’s all fire though, and needs no fuel to keep going. “Your makeup’s really pretty too. You look like an angel.”

“What are you trying to do?” you ask, voice full of suspicion. Even in his tone, you can hear his ulterior motives.

He comes closer to you with a grin, leaning his head on your shoulder and locking eyes with you in the mirror. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you feel a bit overwhelmed by his presence.

“I know you worked so hard getting pretty, but I don’t really think you should go out today… It’s windy, and you’ll be so, so cold in this…” He slowly pulls the thin strap of your top off your shoulder until it falls limp around your arm. His finger lightly traces the skin he revealed.

You’re not so curious what Beomgyu’s intentions are anymore. They’re pretty easy to guess now. “I’ll be fine,” you say.

He pouts, continuing to trace little swirls onto your skin. “You’ll get sick,” he adds.

“That’s not what you actually care about,” you say.

“I do though.” He places a kiss on your neck as if to show his earnestness.

“Beomgyu—no, this is too much.” You try pushing him off, but it’s as if he doesn’t feel your efforts at all. You give up after the second attempt.

“You should stay home with me so I don’t have to worry about you all day.” He stares at your side profile and brushes your hair back. He places another tender kiss on your neck, higher up this time. You try to fight any heat rising in your body from the action.

“Stop this,” you say, but it doesn’t sound so confident with how your voice shakes. You turn your head to look him in the eye. He just smiles up at you from where his head still leans on your shoulder. You hold back a gasp when his finger stops tracing lines on your skin and hooks under your bra strap instead, just barely starting to pull that aside too.

You’re so flustered by his finger slowly inching your bra strap down that you barely notice when his lips are back on your neck, attached to your pulse point like your heartbeat was calling for him.

“Y-you told me I could say no to you,” you remind him as his lips continue their slow descent down your neck.

“Yeah, if you actually meant it.” He places one last kiss to your skin, then props his head back on your shoulder to look into your eyes through the mirror. He smiles as if he likes what he finds; you must look as confused and malleable as you feel.

“You lied,” you say quietly, as if it’s a revelation to yourself and not a response to him.

“I didn’t. I’m just obsessed with pleasing you.” He runs his hands down your sides soothingly, then prompts you to bend with a gentle hand on your back.

“Beomgyu!” you squeak, fighting against the hand that beckons you down. You hold on tight to the edge of the vanity to keep your body up.

“Stop thinking. Let me take care of you.” His voice is so soft and coaxing, and you feel a sizable sense of shame hit you when arousal oozes from your cunt. An even greater amount of shame finds you when your arms shake and eventually give, letting Beomgyu ease you down until you’re bent over the vanity.

“We really can’t do this.” It might be too late to keep fighting, but you don’t want to suffer the consequences of this all over again.

“Shhh, baby,” he whispers as his hand travels down your back and settles on your hip, massaging the area.

Oh god. This is so bad. You’re supposed to be hanging out with Soobin in a few hours. You can’t do this right now.

“Gyu”—

“It’s okay,” he soothes. “Stop shaking, why are you so nervous?”

“I’m supposed to see Soobin today!” you squeak. He tsks.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop thinking?” A warm hand trails up your thigh. He doesn’t go under your skirt, he stays well enough away from your center, but something about his touch is still making your head spin. No one can make you lose reasonability like Beomgyu can.

You whine, and you don’t know if it’s out of defeat or out of need. You blink a tear from your eyes and follow Beomgyu’s advice: you stop thinking.

“Gyu…” You don’t even know what you’re calling him for. You hide your face in your arms so you don’t have to watch your reflection give up her fight.

“Yes, baby?” Your hips push out in search for his touch before you can stop yourself. Tears of shame pool in your eyes, and you're glad Beomgyu can’t see your face to coddle you for that. “You need something?”

You don’t respond. It’s embarrassing how bad you need his touch, but you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. A part of you wishes he’d leave you here like this so you could take care of your needs yourself.

He flips your skirt up with a careful hand, and you keep as still as possible. You try not to even breathe too hard. “You’re wet,” he says. “Want me to help you?”

What’s the point of asking? He went this far already. “No,” you say, and half of the reason is just to test if he’ll do it anyway.

“But you need me,” he says, brushing your hair out of your face and turning your head to him with his fingers on your chin. He looks at you like you’re a deer caught in a bear trap, like he’s being merciful to offer his help. You feel powerless when he looks at you like that.

His pitiful stare just makes you blink more tears out of your eyes, and you’d hide your face if you could, but he insists on keeping your head tilted towards him. He coos when the wet trails reach your cheeks, bringing a thumb up to wipe your tears.

“Do you wanna feel better?” he asks, continuing to spoil you with tender touches. He grabs your hand and lifts it to his lips to kiss your knuckles. You feel every bit the deer caught in the trap—Beomgyu’s got you in his claws now.

“I don’t know,” you say, pouting up at him.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you. Just tell me when to stop…” The light press of his fingertip against your clothed core makes you sigh, tension melting from your body. You close your eyes, shutting off your brain and relaxing into the feeling.

“That’s right, it feels so good, doesn’t it?” He circles your clit, keeping his touch feather-light. Even that much drives you crazy and makes your legs tremble. “Can I take these off?” His finger moves from your clit to hook beneath the hem of your panties.

“Please,” you say. He kisses your shoulder blade in appreciation.

“What nice manners.” Your panties are slowly peeled off of you until they hit the floor. The cold air hits your wet folds, making you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Beomgyu utters as he stares at your pussy. He brings a hand down and starts rubbing your clit, leaving you a gasping and mewling mess already. “I missed this cunt. God, you haunted me. You tortured me.”

He attaches his mouth to your neck, kissing down to your shoulder. You cry out when his tongue meets your skin, licking and nipping at whatever skin he has access to. You clench around nothing, making more arousal drip out of you. Beomgyu coats his fingers in the slickness and continues drawing tight circles onto your clit.

“Beomgyu!” you yelp out when he speeds up. He places a parting peck onto your jaw before leaning away to look at your face. He smiles down at you.

“You need something inside that wet little cunt? Are you aching for my fingers?” His words make you feel lightheaded. You’re already having trouble thinking clearly, but now with that thought in your mind, you’re a goner.

“Yes, I need you!” He’s quick to give you what you want, sinking two fingers in with ease. You’re left crying and panting as he fucks his digits into you, filthy sounds filling the room.

“You’re so hot,” he praises, pulling your head up with his fist in your hair. You’re forced to stare at your own reflection, met with an image of you that looks so unfamiliar. Your mouth is hung open, spilling out moans and cries as Beomgyu’s fingers continue ramming into you. Your makeup is smudged and no longer suitable to go out in. The strap of your shirt and bra still hangs limp on your arm, and that side of your neck is coated in Beomgyu’s saliva.

“I look like a slut,” you say, pouting only for a second before your mouth is forced open again around a whine.

“You look beautiful.” His fingers curl into you, searching for the spot that will have your eyes rolling back. Your legs tremble when he finds it, and you have to rebalance yourself, clutching onto the vanity to keep yourself up.

“There! Oh, god, Gyu!” His mouth is back on your throat, hot and wet as he sucks and tastes and kisses. He nibbles on your jaw, then moves up to breathe into your ear.

“Let me fuck you, let me fill you up,” he whispers. You clench around his fingers at the thought. He stills inside you and you whine. “Baby.” He holds your face so you’ll look at him. He presses a quick kiss to your lips. You’re too far gone to complain. “You need more, right? You need my dick inside you?”

He curls his fingers inside you once more, and your back arches at the sensation. You try not to get too heady at the idea of him splitting you with his cock. That’s the one thing that absolutely cannot happen, so you can’t let yourself give in to that.

“Tell me, or else you won’t cum at all,” he says, rubbing his fingers inside you so perfectly it leaves your legs shaking.

“No, please!” you exclaim, panicked at the prospect of him leaving you on the edge. Your frantic hands are quick to play with your clit and squeeze your tits, trying to get yourself off while his fingers are still inside of you.

“Are you gonna let me fuck you today?” he asks, moving his fingers slower so you won’t cum. You pout and push your hips toward him, but a strong hand of his retaliates and keeps you still.

“We can’t,” you say. Immediately, he pulls his fingers out of you. He slaps your pussy, making you yelp and shut your legs. He pries them back open and slaps you again, harder this time. His fingers collect your wetness and tease your entrance, but never slip back inside.

“Did my slut already give it up to Soobin? Because that would really piss me off,” he says, staring meanly at you as he waits for your answer.

“No! We never did anything together,” you answer, the truth leaving you easily when you’re so desperate for his touch. He huffs out a laugh.

“That’s right. You know you’re mine.” He’s so pleased that he decides to relieve some of your need, rubbing your clit. “No one else would be able to touch you like me. Tell me how I ruined you for any other man,” he prompts.

He pulls his fingers off of you and pushes his pants down, whipping his dick out and stroking it as he looks down at you. He taps your clit with the head of his cock and bites back a grin when you mewl at the action. He thrusts against your pussy, letting his length slide between your folds.

You have to cling onto reality and keep yourself from slipping into a brainless haze. It’s hard to do when his cock feels so girthy and hot against you. He would stretch you so nicely. Your cunt oozes at the thought.

“Say it,” Beomgyu demands, grabbing your face again so you’ll make eye contact with him. He leans over your body to do so, and you feel completely surrounded by him. His stare is hard and demanding. Your eyes bug out when you feel him press his tip against your entrance, pushing with just the slightest bit of pressure, but not quite sliding in. “Say it or I’ll fuck the words out of you.”

That scares you into compliance. “You ruined me for anyone else! Only you can make me cum! I only want your cock!” you chant thoughtlessly.

He laughs and smooths his hands down your body, resting them on your waist. “Good girl. Was that so hard?” He’s so condescending, but it makes you drip like crazy. He goes back to thrusting against your pussy, making you sigh in relief.

Beomgyu runs a hand under your shirt, squeezing your tits. Your back arches when he twists and pulls at your nipples while continuing to slide his cock through your folds. He takes his dick and starts swiping his tip over your clit rapidly, watching you spasm at the sensation with a grin. Your hole continues to flutter, aching to be stuffed with his cock. Unfortunately, Beomgyu takes notice of that.

“You need that hole filled, baby? Need to be nice and stretched?” He brings his tip back to your entrance. He circles around it teasingly, making you whine. You can’t let him fuck you. You need to keep at least that much from him.

“Don’t,” you plead, getting more antsy the longer he stays at your entrance.

“Don’t?” he repeats, but doesn’t move away.

“Please don’t!” you cry, unwilling to let him go that far. He finally relents.

“Then you’ll cum like this,” he huffs and goes back to stimulating your clit with the head of his cock. You moan out, pushing your hips down to feel him pressed against you more. Your mouth is dropped open in pleasure, eyes shutting as you focus on the feeling. Your legs shake and try to close, but Beomgyu urges them back open with his hand on your thigh.

You can’t form any coherent sentences, stuttering out a garbled mess of words that tells Beomgyu you’re right there. “Let go, baby, be good and cum for me,” he says, and your body obeys. You spasm everywhere as your orgasm takes over, breathing out in sweet relief. He’s moaning behind you, movements getting shakier as his release finds him.

Beomgyu pulls away so his cum lands on your ass, but his fingers play with your pussy to help you come down. Your legs clamp shut when it gets too much, and he takes that as a sign to stop. The sound of you and Beomgyu panting fills the room as you recover from your highs.

“Fuck, I wish I could take a picture of this,” Beomgyu says, staring at your ass painted with his seed. You can’t even think of a smart reply to that, still trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Beomgyu takes off his shirt to wipe you down with it. You’re glad he still has the mind to take care of you. You cringe when you feel him try to put your soiled panties back onto you. “Stop, I’ll just get a new pair,” you say, kicking his hands away.

You stand up and stretch, trying to avoid looking at your reflection as much as possible. You grab your phone to check the time. What catches your sight instead is a text notification from Soobin, and suddenly you feel sick. Beomgyu smirks when his eyes land on your screen. “You still going out with him today?”

You almost feel like you could cry. Was this his plan all along? You put your phone back down, unable to stand the guilt.

He wins again. “No, I’m not.”

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Your life recently has just been a continuous cycle of proving that you can, indeed, stoop even lower. You’re so confused how you even got to this point. Your fairytale relationship was lined up for you, it was supposed to be easy to stop whatever you’re doing with Beomgyu and make Soobin your boyfriend.

Things are more complicated and confusing than ever, a precedent you continuously find yourself in. You can’t grow accustomed to this. You’ll go crazy before you ever figure out why Beomgyu won’t quit. What is the root of his insecurity? Why is he so threatened by the idea of you having a boyfriend? You’ve already told him you won’t leave him.

When you notice that Beomgyu’s not home when you get back from work, you decide to invite Chaewon over to keep you company. You don’t feel like being alone with your thoughts right now.

She’s there in a heartbeat, and the two of you are quick to settle on the couch and watch a bit of the show she’s currently binging. You’re only half an episode in when you stop paying attention and start talking to Chaewon about life instead. It doesn’t take long for Chaewon to land on the million dollar question.

“Alright, this has been killing me since we went to the bar. What happened with Soobin?” Chaewon asks.

You want to punch yourself. This is so embarrassing. “Well…”

“I swear, if you…” she starts, and you know what she’s thinking.

“I did.” You get a hard smack on the arm for that. You deserved it, honestly.

“You fucked Beomgyu?!”

“He didn’t stick it in, but we did basically everything else,” you admit.

“Why?” she asks. “Everything was going so well.”

“I don’t know. Because I’m stupid. I tried to say no, but you know him.”

She looks a little horrified to hear that. “What?”

You scramble to explain, not wanting her to get the wrong idea, “I mean, like, I gave in and let myself enjoy it because he wasn’t stopping anyway.”

“Do you even know how concerning that sounds?” Chaewon asks, looking genuinely worried for you. “Seriously, are you okay?” She runs a hand down your arm to comfort you.

“I’m okay. Thank you.” Her eyes have lost all their hardness and accusation, and she looks at you with only pity now.

“How’d this happen? Give me the timeline,” Chaewon says, and you sigh as you try to recollect the whole story.

“I actually initiated it the first time we hooked up again,” you explain with a sense of shame. “I was angry, and he kept insisting that I hate him, so I kissed him. Then it went further.”

“I hate him,” Chaewon says with a bitter laugh. You frown, so she continues, “I do. I can’t stand him anymore. He knew he was cornering you when he said that shit.”

“Well, it worked. It keeps working. I tried again to stop after that, which is when he told me I should just say no and”—

“What the hell?” Chaewon interrupts, appalled. “As if you haven’t been saying no in a million different ways!”

“Yeah, I don’t know.” You shake your head and shrug defeatedly. “So the next time he tries to initiate something, I say no, and he doesn’t listen because he said he could tell I didn’t mean it.”

Chaewon’s jaw is dropped open. It takes a few seconds for her to get a response out. “I really hate him. I’m fuming for you.”

“Well, I didn’t tell him to stop once he really started touching me. I don’t know why. He told me to tell him when to stop, and I just… didn’t.”

“He needs to get it together. You need to give him an ultimatum.” The drastic measures make your heart pound. Beomgyu would lose it.

“I can’t,” you say. “Even if I did, he’d find a way around it again.”

“Stop giving him so much power over you. You need to detox yourself clean of him.” She says that like he’s some bacteria you can just flush out. He’s more like a parasite taking control of your whole being.

“But I live with him,” you reason.

“Then stay at mine. As long as you’re here with him, he’s going to keep doing this. He’s been messing with your head and ruining your life on purpose. It’s such bullshit. He’ll never take no for an answer,” Chaewon spits.

“What the hell are you guys talking about?” You snap your head over to where the voice came from. Fuck. Beomgyu came home.

Your heart stops. You hold your breath, staring at him with wide eyes. What do you say? There’s no excuse that could get you out of this situation.

Chaewon on the other hand doesn’t seem scared at all—she seems furious. “You,” she answers, unphased at his attempt to intimidate her.

She rises from the couch and approaches him with quick footsteps. You get scared for a second that she might hit him, so you follow her quickly. She stops in front of Beomgyu, and you stand back, observing the scene with your nerves on edge. Beomgyu doesn’t back down, staring daggers into her.

“Beomgyu, you are the most disgusting excuse for a friend in the world,” Chaewon snaps. She pokes a finger against his chest to make her point. “I can only pray that karma gets you one day and makes you see what a piece of shit you are.”

Beomgyu looks at you while pointing at Chaewon. “You’re just gonna let her talk to me like this? Did you even tell her the full story?”

You see red at his accusation. “I told her everything, matter of fact.”

“Yeah? Then she should know that you’re just as much to blame as I am,” he says, walking away from Chaewon and towards you. “I can’t believe you’ve been shit-talking me with your friends for things you chose to do with me.”

Chaewon chimes in, “How much of a choice does she have if you’re bugging her nonstop until she gives in? Crying, fighting, begging. If you were fucking normal she’d already be with Soobin by now.”

Beomgyu doesn’t turn to look at Chaewon as she speaks, so his face is still close to yours as he takes in her words. He doesn’t look remorseful at all. He just looks pissed.

“You can leave, Chaewon,” he says, voice dripping with venom. He looks you in the eye even as he says that. It sends a chill down your spine.

Chaewon grabs your wrist and pulls you a few steps away from Beomgyu. “Come sleep at mine tonight,” she urges you. “You don’t deserve to hear whatever shit he’s gonna put you through.”

“Fuck that,” Beomgyu says. “Get out of my house.” He points to the door. You’re shocked at the slight raise in his voice. He’s never done that before.

Chaewon looks at you, waiting for you to say something. You feel like the smallest person alive because you can’t bring yourself to accept her offer. It would only strain your relationship with Beomgyu more.

“Don’t be mad at me, Chaewon,” you plead, even though that’s probably too much to ask for. But she’s Chaewon, and she carries all the understanding she’s ever had, so she doesn’t get mad at all.

She squeezes your hand. “Be smart,” she says, then wraps her arms around you for a tight hug. “Text me if you need anything,” she whispers in your ear.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in hers. She pulls away and pats your hair down, looking sympathetic.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says, heading towards the door.

“See you.” You can’t bring yourself to sound happy or excited as you watch her leave. It feels like your life force has been drained out of you, and yet you’re nowhere near done with the arguments tonight. You turn to Beomgyu, already expecting it.

“Please don’t listen to her,” he says. You blink up at him, confused. He’s not going to get mad at you? “I don’t know what she’s telling you, but don’t listen to it.”

You don’t have it in you to fight him right now. “I just chose you again, Beomgyu, even if I shouldn’t have. That should tell you everything.” It’s the last thing you say before heading off to your room. You don’t think your pout leaves your face all night.

Time and time again, you prove you can’t change. You can’t prioritize anything over Beomgyu, not even yourself. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic.

You want to believe you can grow as a person, but it’s so impossible when Beomgyu insists on bringing you back to square one every chance he gets. Chaewon’s offer rings in your head, telling you there is a way out. You could stay with her and leave behind all the mess that comes with being here.

Your eyes water. If only you weren’t so weak. You can’t imagine how that life would be better than one with Beomgyu in it. You can’t abandon him; for both his sake and your own, it’s better if you stay. You just have to get used to this being your new life.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

Somehow, Beomgyu becomes the only person you don’t feel guilty being around. When you’re with Soobin, you feel guilty for what you’ve done with Beomgyu. When you’re with Chaewon, you feel guilty for not taking her advice and controlling your life more. With Beomgyu, you don’t have to feel guilty, as long as you don’t let yourself think too hard.

You end up spending most of your free time cooped up in his room. It’s better than being alone—your thoughts might send you spiraling if you’re left to deal with them on your own. If making you codependent was Beomgyu’s goal, it looks like he’s succeeding.

You let Beomgyu hold you in his bed, you let him wipe the tears off your face, you let him comfort you with peppered kisses all over your skin and honey coated words whispered into your ear. You let him do whatever he wants because it’s better than fighting with him and breaking yourself down even more.

You open your phone to see you’ve got a text from Soobin.

[Soobin] Are you free today?

Well, technically you are…

You look over at Beomgyu, still caught up in his game. You think of spending time with Soobin, lounging in some restaurant or walking across the city. It’s nice, but any of that niceness is crushed when you think of telling Beomgyu that you’re going out with Soobin. You think of his petty arguments, of the tricks he has up his sleeve, of all the right words he knows just when to say to keep things going his way. You’ve had such a shit week that you just don’t feel like ruining your weekend like that.

You send your response.

I’m not :(

You shut off your phone and lay it against your chest. You feel like you’re becoming an awful person. A few minutes later, Beomgyu cheers and claps at his screen, pushing his chair out a bit and looking back at you.

“Come look at this,” he says. You wrap a blanket around yourself as you trudge over to his desk. He points to each statistic and explains how awesome and amazing they are, looking to you for validation.

“Super cool.” You nod and try to pull an impressed look, but he can always see through your bullshit.

“Why do you sound like that? What happened?” he asks. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Curse him and his stupid ability to read your mind.

You sigh. “I just feel like I’m always lying to Soobin recently.”

Beomgyu, ever the asshole, just smiles at that. “Why?”

“He asked if I was free today and I said no,” you explain.

“Well that’s right. You’re hanging out with me.”

“But we don’t really have plans. We hang out like this every day.” You don’t fight it when he pulls you into his lap. You relax into him.

“Just stop dragging him along. This is going nowhere.”

“It could, though,” you say.

“It couldn’t,” Beomgyu denies with complete certainty. He runs his fingers through your hair when you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah. You would make sure of it,” you say, defeated.

“Don’t act so innocent.” His voice is soft even when he says that.

“I was so set on him. You never liked me like this until you found out about him,” you say, equally as soft, no real fight in you.

“I always liked you like this.”

“No. You never acted like this.”

“I was scared of losing you to him, so I had to act like this,” he defends.

“It makes me feel crazy. Makes me feel like a bad person.”

He hums, still comforting you with his hand in your hair and an arm around your waist. He pulls you up just a bit to position you so that you’re face-to-face with him. The blanket falls off of you and onto the floor behind you. He coos when he sees your teary eyes, cupping your face.

“You’re right, I would make sure of it. I’d never let you get into a relationship,” he admits. His voice drips with gentleness, and it’s smooth as ever, but you don’t feel soothed by it. You back up when his face gets a little too close to yours.

“What if I only want to be friends?” you question.

“Then just be my friend. Don’t be his girlfriend, though,” he pleads. “Would you really hurt me like that?”

“I can’t be his friend?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

A little fire of rage is starting to burn inside you at his possessiveness. It’s like he can sense it, and he’s trying to calm it down, gently rubbing his hands down your thighs.

“Don’t touch me like that,” you demand. He moves his hands to rest on your hips instead. “Don’t touch me at all.”

He pries his hands off of you and holds them behind his head. You feel yourself getting pissed off, but for some reason you don’t make a move to get off his lap.

“Why do you treat me like this?” you ask harshly.

“Cause I’m in love with you,” he answers like he can’t hold it back anymore. Your heart stops and your eyes shoot to his own in shock. He’s looking at you with all the honesty he’s ever had. “So forgive me if I can’t stand you being with someone else.”

You open your mouth, but you have no clue what to say, so you just shut it and stare at him, dumbfounded. It takes a few seconds for rationality to hit you and urge you up and away from him. He stands up as soon as you do, holding onto your wrist.

“No, don’t go,” he begs, lacing your hands together. You lean your head into his chest and cry out in confusion. What are you supposed to do?! God, a part of you wishes you’d never even met Soobin now. If you knew it would come to this, you’d have never stepped foot in that library. It’s just not worth it. You don’t even know how you feel right now.

“What the fuck Beomgyu!” you yell as you burst into tears. Everything is ruined. You can’t be with Soobin. You can’t be with anyone. You can’t have your old dynamic with Beomgyu back. Nothing will be the same.

Beomgyu hugs you, swaying you comfortingly and slowly. You hear him sniffle. He doesn’t deserve to be crying right now. What reason does he have to cry? Everything has gone his way.

You drop to the floor and hold your face in your hands, crying into your palms. He sits in front of you and pushes your hands down, brushing your hair back. His eyes are red from his tears too, but he’s tending to you. Your stomach twists. You don’t know what to think. A guttural sob leaves you.

“Maybe this city isn’t right for you. Let’s move away,” Beomgyu offers, trying a new approach.

“Like you know what’s right for me,” you mock.

“I do,” he asserts.

“You don’t.”

“Just stop with this. Do you not love me?” he asks, angry and serious. You don’t respond. He calls your name. You look away from him.

You don’t know. Somewhere in this whole mess, you’ve lost your perception of what you feel for who. You don’t respond because you have no answer.

He whines and hangs his head, clutching his chest like you’ve just stabbed him in the heart. Always the drama queen. You feel yourself calming down a little as you see it. At least you’re not the only one breaking down now.

“You want to be with him that bad?” he asks. He looks at you with pathetic eyes, tears falling from them pitifully. You feel nothing.

He grabs you by the shoulders with urgency and desperation. You have no more fight in you, so you let it happen. He picks you up and sits you on the edge of his bed. He stands over you, holding your head up so your eyes meet. He frantically searches for something in them. You’re not sure what.

“Can you talk to me?” he requests. “At least give me that much?” He pulls your mouth open with his thumb, staring at it like he’s waiting for something to come out. You don’t know what possesses you, but you feel broken enough to not question it when you take his thumb in your mouth and suck. Perhaps you’re just used to turning to sex in the midst of heated moments now. He pulls it out and stares at you funny.

“What?” you ask. He gives a sigh of relief, and you realize it’s because you finally said something.

“We gotta talk about this,” he says.

What’s there to talk about? He told you what your whole life is going to look like anyway. You don’t even want to think about it anymore.

“Let me sleep,” you whisper. Your head is pounding.

“Okay,” he agrees, laying you back on his mattress, adjusting the pillow beneath your head. You shut your eyes. He tucks you in neatly, making sure you’re extra comfortable. He uses gentle fingers to tuck your hair out of your face. You feel his presence stick beside you like a guard dog until you fall asleep.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You wake up with a clearer head. The room is dark, you must have slept your way into the night. You remember everything that happened and your eyes shoot open. Beomgyu’s sleeping soundly next to you. He has you right up against him, like he knew you’d try to run away as soon as you woke up. You realize that that’s what you should be doing right now.

You remember you left your phone on the bed somewhere. You feel around for it, more frantically the longer it takes, but you come up empty. A part of you wonders if Beomgyu took it. You shake the thought. He wouldn’t. You despise your mind for trying to paint your best friend as evil.

He can’t help how he feels, right? If he scared you or hurt you, he didn’t mean it. If he’s serious when he says he loves you, then he wouldn’t want to hurt you. You feel sick as you think it over. You probably shouldn’t run away. Where would you even go?

An idea pops into your mind, but you need your phone first.

Gathering your courage, you slip from Beomgyu’s grasp and get out of bed, causing as little commotion as you can. You scan the room with just your eyes, seeing if you can find your phone. You contain the urge to groan when you don’t see it anywhere. You bend down to check under the bed. Nothing.

You startle when you rise up and see Beomgyu looking at you. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“I’m just looking for my phone.” You sound so meek and unnatural in your own ears. You sound scared of him.

“Oh.” He eases back into the bed. You didn’t realize how tense he got. Strange.

You look at him speculatively. “Do you… know where my phone is?”

He furrows his brows. “Are you accusing me right now?”

Yes. “No.” It’s so much harder to rationalize the situation when you’re talking to Beomgyu. He’s quiet for a minute, and it unnerves you. You wonder what he’s thinking.

You watch him closely as he reaches for something on his nightstand. It’s his phone. He taps around on it, and you have no clue what he’s doing until you hear it ring. He’s calling you.

The vibration of your phone is muffled, but present. Beomgyu looks to his side and lifts your pillow, revealing your phone. He hangs up the call from his end. You grab your phone, feeling guilty now.

“Now you can stop looking at me like I’m some psychopath,” he murmurs off-handedly. It stings your heart.

“I’m sorry.”

He sits up and stares at you, then lets out a heavy sigh. His eyes look puffy now from all his crying before, and you figure he must not have slept much. You wonder if he stayed up crying while you slept in his arms.

“I’m sorry too,” he says. You appreciate that, because he’s got a lot to be sorry for. “I got scared and it made me act crazy.”

So you’re finally having this conversation. Your heart rate picks up.

“You did. I guess I did too,” you say. You remember how you broke down. You remember everything he said. “Did you mean it all?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a second. “I meant it when I said I loved you.”

“And when you said you’d never let me have a relationship?” you push. He looks like you just kicked him, and he bites down his response. You remember what Chaewon said about him doing that, how he only does it because he knows you’re weak for him. Not this time. Fuck that. “Talk to me now, Beomgyu. I’ll walk out of your life forever if you don’t.”

He rushes to respond now, eyes wide with urgency. “I don’t know, I’m just desperate, and—and I need you.” He stands up, but doesn’t dare get too close to you. His hands are held together in prayer. “Don’t walk away. I’ll control myself now. Please stay. Who else do I have?”

You take a deep breath, trying to not let his words hit you too hard. You need to keep a clear mind. If your heart starts getting soft, you’ll lose to him again.

“I want you to never meddle in my love life again,” you say, speaking as clearly and confidently as you can.

“But I”—

“Never again. No excuses. Let me be.”

“But I love you!” Beomgyu cries, desperate to keep you to himself.

“Stop,” you insist, locking up the iron gates that protect your weak heart. You can’t let him get through.

“I love you, I love you, I love you! You can’t do this to me!”

You feel him slicing away at the bars guarding your heart. You have to get out of here before he breaks you down again.

“I’m staying at Chaewon’s tonight. If you try to contact me while I’m gone, you’ll never see me again. Give me space.” You fear your sanity might slip from you if you take too long to head out the door.

He drops to his knees as a sob escapes him. Unintelligible pleading escapes his lips, but you can’t allow it into your mind. If you stay here a second longer, he’s going to find your soft spots and attack. Adrenaline forces you to start moving.

You leave the room, leave the apartment, but you still hear his cries. They echo in your mind and torture you as your feet take you to Chaewon’s house. You move as fast as you can, desperate to clear your head, but Beomgyu proves himself again to be a parasite, a stain you can never wash off.

Chaewon’s eyes widen when she sees you. You must look as rough as you feel. “What happened?” she asks, ushering you to her couch. She wipes your cheeks, brushing away tears you didn’t even know were there.

“Beomgyu loves me.” You choke on a sob, leaning forward until your head is buried in Chaewon’s chest, wrapping your arms around her body. You’re glad you don’t have to beg her to comfort you—she’s quick to pat your hair down and hold you while you let it all out.

“Honey, it’s okay,” she soothes. You’re soaking her shirt with your tears, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

“No, everything has changed. Nothing’s okay.” Chaewon picks your head up at that, cupping your face so you’ll look her in the eyes. You sniffle back your tears, suddenly embarrassed by them when she’s looking at you so intensely.

“You will be okay. I promise you.” She sounds so sure of it that you have no choice but to believe her. You nod, and she looks pleased at that. Once she releases you from her hold, you wipe the wetness from your face. You feel yourself calming down.

“Thank you,” you say. Even if all you want to do in the moment is wallow in your own self-pity, you can’t let that be the rest of your life. Once you feel confident you won’t start crying again, you tell Chaewon everything that happened with Beomgyu. She’s quiet the whole time, nodding as you explain the whole ordeal. You don’t have it in you to joke about it right now, and you appreciate that she doesn’t try to either.

“Well, how do you feel? Do you love Beomgyu?” she asks.

You sigh. This is a loaded question. “I’m not in love with him, but I do love him. Even after everything he did, I still love him. I probably always will.”

Chaewon nods slowly and hums in acknowledgement. She takes a minute to ask her next question. “What about Soobin?”

You pout as you ponder it. When you think about being with Soobin now, it’s not heart fluttering anymore. Beomgyu ruined that for you. Maybe Beomgyu ruined any man for you. You can’t imagine talking to another guy, now—not for a while, anyway.

“I’m not in love with him either. I don’t know how I feel now,” you answer honestly.

You get another cryptic hum from Chaewon at that. “I think you should see Soobin tomorrow and see if that clears things up.”

Tomorrow? That’s so soon. You need time to recover from today. The thought of meeting up with Soobin fills you with some sort of dread and fear.

“I don’t know if I can ever see him again,” you admit.

It’s too late for you to come back from this. The damage is irreparable. Beomgyu has carved his name into you, and you can scratch it away all you want, but the slate will never be clean again. You’ll always be marred.

“See him one more time,” Chaewon insists. “Don’t give up yet.” You feel a little bit of life leave you as you sigh. You’re not the fighter that Chaewon wants you to be. You’ve tried so hard, but it never worked.

She puts a hand on your shoulder and continues, “Text him. Ask him to go out with you tomorrow. You can still make this work.” She picks up your phone and puts it in your hand.

You look into her eyes. She has enough hope in them to encourage you to unlock your phone and go to Soobin’s messages. You stare at your texts from earlier, regretting how you didn’t just accept his offer to hang out. You wonder how differently your day would have gone.

You take a deep breath and look at Chaewon for reassurance. Her smile gives you the courage to send something over.

If you’re free tomorrow, I’d love to go out

You doubt he’s awake right now since it’s so late, but you’ll settle with seeing his response in the morning. Chaewon encourages you to get some rest, and you think half of the reason is because she’s tired too, but you don’t argue. If you’re seeing Soobin tomorrow, you’ll need as much rest as you can get tonight. You’ll sleep away the pain and open your heart up to whatever comes with Soobin tomorrow.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You do your best to not think about Beomgyu at all as soon as you meet up with Soobin. You want to enjoy your day, and you’ll be damned if you don’t at least try. You’ve put up with so much, you need a break. A day out with Soobin could offer you that solace.

It’s colder by the lake that you walk along the edge of, but the sight is so nice that you don’t mind it. Being outside is helping you feel better, too. The lake is still mostly ice, with fresh snow piled on top of it.

“I’m glad we get to spend time together today,” Soobin says, walking slower until he comes to a stop. He looks angelic even with his nose red from the cold.

“Me too,” you say. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure you were busy.” You can’t look him in the eye when he says that, it hurts too much. You weren’t nearly as busy as he thinks you were. Your mind was preoccupied with someone else.

“How has work been?” You almost cringe at how surface level the question feels. You’ve been past the small talk stage for a while now, but you’re having trouble thinking of what else to talk about. It’s not like you can talk about your own life as of recent.

“It’s been okay. I miss you sometimes when I’m working in the library,” he says. Your heart should flutter at that. You should feel weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach. Instead, you feel something inside you shrivel up. You push past the feeling, still determined to try to save this.

“I wish I went over more.” You wish you did a lot of things different.

“You still can,” he says, hopeful. You pray that he’s oblivious to your uncertainty. You smile at him, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels.

“I can,” you agree. A beat of silence follows. You look out to the frozen lake. In the summer, this place is alive with the sound of birds chirping and people laughing. It’s quite different now. You look at the barren trees and strain your ears for any noise.

You don’t usually hate winter, but this year it feels eternal. You’re dying for the snow to start melting and to feel the sun again. The sight of flowers in bloom, of leaves returning to trees, is something you find yourself craving more than ever.

“Do you like the snow?” you ask, turning to Soobin.

“I love it. It makes everything look brighter.” You nod, looking back out to the world. The sunlight reflects off the stretch of snow, and you suppose it does look brighter like this. A gust of wind sends snow blowing at the two of you. You flinch, and he laughs.

“Have you ever gone skiing?” he asks.

You shake your head. “I went snowboarding with Beomgyu once, but I hated it. I had so many bruises the next day.” You laugh a little at the memory.

“I’ve been waiting to hear that,” Soobin says. You look at him in confusion. “Your laugh,” he clarifies.

“Oh.” You feel your face heat up.

“I love skiing, even though I’m not great at it. You should try. I know a great place. We can fall and get matching bruises,” he says, grinning. It puts a smile on your face, and you don’t have to force it this time.

“I don’t know if I can take up that offer,” you say.

Soobin nods. “That’s okay.”

It goes quiet again after that. Silence doesn’t bother you normally, but it feels deeper than usual when there’s nothing going on around you. You sway on your feet, kicking awkwardly at the snow.

“Are you alright? You’re never this quiet,” Soobin notes. You sigh. You couldn’t even begin to explain how you feel to him.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry I’m such a bore today,” you apologize, wanting to shrink into yourself.

“I’m never bored of you. Tell me what’s going on,” he prompts, looking at you attentively. You’re flattered at how he shows his care for you.

You stare at him for a long second, wondering how much would be acceptable to spill. “It’s just Beomgyu.”

Soobin laughs for a second at that. “That’s not the first time I heard that sentence.” He doesn’t look upset or bitter, but it still makes you feel bad. Even if he’s joking, it’s true that you keep bringing Beomgyu up around him.

“I don’t know what to do about him anymore.” You wish you had the guts to say more, but you’re a coward.

Soobin takes a while to respond to that, so long that you think he might just drop the conversation. His smile has shrunk, and you fear that he’s finally putting the pieces together. “You do what feels right,” he advises.

You swallow, trying to calm your nerves. “How do I know what’s right?” Your brows are upturned, lips pouted as you struggle to draw a conclusion. His eyes trail down your face like he’s assessing you.

“Your heart will tell you.” He has no clue the torment your heart’s been through. The poor thing is too weak to make any decisions. Following it will lead you nowhere.

You shake your head. “No it won’t.”

He sighs, and that’s when you know he’s caught onto your dilemma. “You already know what your heart wants. You’re just ignoring it.”

His words strike you with panic. You search his eyes to try to find the answer he’s come to. “What do you mean?” you ask.

“I just feel like…” Soobin starts. You hang onto his words as he struggles to finish his thought. “You’re always thinking of him.”

Your heart sinks. It feels like the world has gone weak, and everything around you is ready to collapse. Can you even deny what he said? You open your mouth to try, but any noise struggles to come out.

“So, can I ask you something?” he continues.

You nod. This moment feels so delicate and fragile, you’re scared of breaking it. Your voice comes out in a whisper when you respond, “Yes.”

“Did you like me at all?” His eyes dart between yours.

You hate this so much. You can’t protect your pride. Guilt spills out from the pit of your stomach and sickens you. Have you turned into something vile? Have you hurt Soobin so much?

“Of course I did. You’re wonderful,” you answer honestly. He wipes a tear from your cheek when it falls from your eye.

“And now?” He keeps his hand on your face. You can't stand his kindness. The knife twists further.

“I don’t know. Beomgyu—he…” You don’t even know where to go with that sentence.

“He fell for you?” he fills in. “I can see why.” He brushes your hair back. Even now, his smile is pure and soft.

“Soobin…” You’re stuck with the most impossible dilemma. A selfish part of you begs to keep Soobin around. The butterflies he summons still come back to life at times like these. You’ll never have to question his sanity. What bloomed between you was innocent and untarnished until Beomgyu dug his claws into you.

The other half of you tells you to stop torturing everyone. Yourself, Soobin, Beomgyu—you all suffer the longer you remain on the fence. You can’t have both men in your life, and you know that you’re not going to give up Beomgyu so easily. You just wish you could figure something out.

“I know your choice,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. How? How can he know so clearly when not even you do?

He takes your hand and brings it to his lips. The most gentle kiss you’ve ever felt is placed delicately onto it. You blink up at him. It’s almost like you can already see him flickering away.

He’s letting you go.

You feel the moment melting. You feel the world slowly coming back to life around you, and you want to ask it for one more minute. One more minute, where you and Soobin can be the only two people that exist. He’s putting your hand down, he’s releasing his hold, he’s getting ready to go. You know better than to cry and beg for him now. This is what has to happen.

“Do you know your way home from here?” he asks.

You’re crushed, but you don’t show it. “Yes.”

He steps back. “I’m glad I knew you. You’re the best thing this city has to offer.”

“That’s not true.” There is nothing more cursed in this city than you.

He smiles at you. It’s the last time you’ll ever see it. “It is. I hope he helps you see that.”

That’s the last thing he says to you before he leaves for good. You watch him walk away. Your feet don’t itch to run for him. Your hands don’t yearn to tug him back. The only thing you want now is to see your best friend.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You try to control the way your body shakes as you stand in front of the door. You need to get yourself together. You steady your breathing. Your fist meets the door to knock on it gently, like you’re unsure if you actually want to go in or not.

You’re glad you ran out of tears already. It would be quite embarrassing for Chaewon to open the door to you crying for the second day in a row.

She assesses you with a frown. “It didn’t go well, did it?”

There’s no need to sugar coat it. “It’s over.”

Chaewon’s lips part in surprise. She’s quiet, and for the first time, it seems like she doesn’t know what to say. You walk to her room without a word, and she follows just as silently. You take your usual spots on her bed, and you try to make yourself feel something. You just come up empty.

“Are you okay?” Chaewon asks, breaking the silence hesitantly.

“I guess,” you answer. You didn’t expect Soobin to let you go. Selfishly, you thought he would never leave you. Chaewon sighs heavily, but you don’t dare to look at her right now. Whether it’s disappointment or sadness on her face, you don’t want to know.

Karma must be real. This was always bound to happen, you realize. This is some cosmic joke, some lesson from the universe to tell you what happens when you let control slip out of your hands. You dug your own grave. Soobin was always going to leave you.

A pang in your chest strikes you when you think of the beginning. Soobin’s shy introduction at the library, his giggles at your flirtations, his eagerness to keep you talking. Everything was so light and easy. You could’ve sworn there was an invisible string connecting you.

“I’m sorry. It’s killing me that I can’t do anything for you,” Chaewon says, and you finally look at her. Her eyes are brimming with tears, lips quivering in an effort to not cry. You frown and hold her hand.

“You’ve done everything for me,” you correct. If it weren’t for all her talks with you in the past couple months, you would have gone crazy long ago. You’d be caught between Beomgyu’s teeth. Now you’re here, sulking over Soobin with her, instead of going home to your other best friend. “You helped me more than you think.”

Chaewon gives you a small smile as a tear falls from her eye. Her hand squeezes yours, and it makes you genuinely smile for a second. “I’m always here for you,” she says.

“Same here, for anything.” She scooches closer to you, and you rest your head on her shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” You ponder her question for a minute, trying to match a label to your inner turmoil.

You sigh, “Numb.”

She hums. “What are you thinking about?” That question brings the pang in your chest back. You can do nothing but succumb to the defeat and hopelessness of it all.

“We never even kissed.” You stare into nothingness as you meddle with the fact. It’s a stupid thing to be upset about, but you feel like you had your one shot at romance ripped away from you. Who can you blame besides yourself?

You could’ve had innocent, pure love. You could’ve had sweet kisses and interlocked hands and a hundred cute little dates, but you traded it all for anger-laced intimacy, endless confusion, and nights ending in tears. You’re a fool.

Chaewon looks at you with such pity that it makes your stomach twist. You must seem so pathetic right now. A part of you wishes you’d run off to Beomgyu instead. He would’ve pampered you, made you forget about Soobin if only for a moment. You know you were right to see Chaewon instead, though. You’ve made enough dumb decisions with your life. You’re sick of destroying everything because you can’t let go of Beomgyu.

Chaewon seems to be thinking the same thing. “I can’t stop thinking about where you’d be now if Beomgyu never brought himself into this.”

You tighten your lips, not knowing what to say. You don’t want to think about it at all. “Yeah.”

She turns to you fully, looking more serious now. “You’re not going back to Beomgyu again. Don’t let him get away with this,” she says.

It’s not that easy. What does she expect you to do instead? Ignore him, drop him now that it’s already too late? You’d gain nothing from that at this point.

“It’s useless,” you say. She takes both your hands in hers, holding them over her heart and looking into your eyes.

“I care about you too much to watch you spiral like this. Stay with me. I’ll help you bring your things here.” She looks at you with pleading eyes. Your heartbeat races. The choice is yours.

“I can’t burden you like that,” you say, shaking your head.

“It would burden me more to know you’re letting Beomgyu win again,” she insists. You exhale shakily, trying to stop your thoughts from flying by so fast. You need a clearer mind to be able to make this decision.

“I need to think about it.” Chaewon nods, always understanding of you.

“Just let me know. I promise I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” You feel like you owe this girl the world.

You look out the window, noticing how dark it is. You would stay over her house again, but something inside you urges you to go home. You shift on the bed, stretching as you get ready to stand up again.

“I think I’m gonna head home now,” you say, and you see her eyebrows knit in confusion immediately. You know what she’s thinking. “It’s not for Beomgyu. It’s for me.”

She still looks uneasy, but she doesn’t put up a fight. You’re glad she saves her lectures on Beomgyu this once. She gives you a parting hug.

“Think about my offer,” she says as you pull away. Her eyes are hopeful, like she’s counting on you for this one thing.

“I will,” you promise.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The moment you get home, you take yourself straight to Beomgyu’s room. It’s late, and you know he must be sleeping, but you don’t want to feel alone for even a second. You don’t want to think about Soobin.

Beomgyu’s room is slightly illuminated by the glow of his gaming setup. He looks so peaceful laying in his bed. His chest rises and falls in a perfect rhythm, and you find yourself calming down. You stand there in the doorway for a minute, debating whether or not it was too far to go and wrap your arms around him.

He stirs in his sleep. Perhaps he felt your presence—you wouldn’t doubt it at this point. The boy has always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you.

“Gyu?” you whisper, testing if he’s waking up or not. His eyes flutter open, so slightly and sleepily that you barely see it. When he notices you standing at his door, he shifts on the bed to make room for you. He pats the spot next to him on the mattress, and your body responds to his call immediately. It seems the magnets attracting you together have never left.

You settle in beside him, cozying up to his warmth. Your eyes are unblinking as they stare at his ceiling. You barely feel like you’re in your own body as Beomgyu tucks you into his side. You only sort of register it as the weight of his arm falls across your waist.

“You came back,” Beomgyu says, voice scratchy and deep from sleep.

“You knew I would.” He doesn’t respond. He knows it’s true.

His breathing is starting to grow slower again, and your heart pounds in unease. You won’t be able to fall asleep. You don’t want him to leave you in the real world right now.

“Beomgyu,” you say in a quiet voice. He hums in response, and you feel the vibration of it in your bones. “I ended things with Soobin.”

He freezes. You don’t even feel him breathe anymore. You keep your gaze off of him; if he’s happy, you don’t want to see it. He tries to sit up, but you coax him back down. You don’t want to be up right now.

You continue, “Or, I guess, he ended things with me.”

His silence would irritate you if you didn’t feel so numb. You focus on your breathing, still staring at the ceiling. You feel weightless, like your body could break from the slightest shove.

Finally, he moves beside you. It’s just a turn of his head, but it’s enough to make you feel a little less stiff. You feel his eyes on you, but you can’t be bothered to meet them.

“Well, I’m not gonna say I’m sorry…” he says. You don’t need to look at him to know that he’s smiling.

“I know. Cause you’re an asshole.”

“But I’m not a liar.”

“Sometimes I wish you were,” you sigh. Your life might’ve been easier in that case.

He ignores that. “I’m here for you. Whatever you want, whatever you miss from him, I’m here.”

You don’t need that. You just need a cork in your chest to fill the space your heart has leapt from. His bandages will never stop the bleeding when it’s this profuse.

“I think you were right, I don’t know if this city’s right for me,” you admit quietly, resting your head on his chest. You hope the world is kind enough to let you find sleep tonight. His response comes in the form of hugging you closer to his body. You let it happen, soaking in all his warmth and comfort. This might be the last time you see him, after all.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You don’t say goodbye. You pack a couple bags while Beomgyu’s not home, doing your best to ignore your blurred vision from the tears welling in your eyes. Chaewon greets you with open arms when you arrive at her place.

“Just these?” Chaewon asks, picking up your bags.

“Yeah, I didn’t grab everything. I left most of my stuff there,” you explain, voice hoarse from your crying earlier.

“That’s okay.” She brings your bags to her work room, which she promised to repurpose for you as your own room. You tried saying that you could crash on her couch for now, but she insisted that she’d do this for you, even if it’s just for a couple weeks.

The room is mostly empty—Chaewon must’ve been up all night clearing it out—save for her desk in the corner. You’re reminded of when you moved into your apartment with Beomgyu. The thrill of independence, of being a young adult in a new corner of the world. Everything was exciting and new back then, and you miss the innocence that came with it.

“My friend has a twin size mattress that he’s bringing over later today, we can find a frame for that at some furniture store,” Chaewon says.

“Oh my gosh, your friend doesn’t have to do that!” you exclaim. You already feel yourself becoming a burden. “An air mattress is fine.”

“Stop, I’m probably doing him a favor helping him get rid of it. I’m not making you sleep on an air mattress, those things suck.”

“We shouldn’t buy a bed frame yet, I don’t know how long I’ll be here,” you reason, but Chaewon’s not hearing it, shaking her head and dismissing the thought with a wave of her hand.

“We can just get something cheap. I know a really good place. I got mine there for, like, three hundred.” Your eyes widen. You can’t control your natural reaction to a great bargain. “Yeah, I know. So let’s go there.”

The rest of the day goes by in a blur of setting the bed frame up, putting half of your things away, and chatting with Chaewon about how nervous you are about this.

The two of you are cramped into your twin bed, talking the night away like it was any normal sleepover. Chaewon gave you one of her LED lamps, and its multicolored glow is the only source of light in the room. You lean into her, and she lets you practically use her as a pillow.

“Did you tell Beomgyu?” she asks. Her fingers run through your hair calmingly.

“No.” You don’t know if you should feel bad for that. He is your best friend...

“You don’t have to,” she reassures. “You should mute his number. He’s going to find out fast and bug you nonstop.”

Your eyes well up once again. You would have never, ever imagined your friendship with Beomgyu would come to this. Is it for the better? You’ll hate yourself forever if this is the wrong choice. If only you could see into the future. That would have saved you a lot of trouble long ago.

“He’ll know I came to you. He knows exactly where to show up,” you say.

“He could knock on my door all damn day if he wants, he’s not coming in.”

“With how he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought a blanket and started sleeping at your door,” you joke. Your laughter is quick to turn to tears, and you don’t even know why. You wipe your eyes, not wanting to cry again, but you can’t help the loss you feel. Beomgyu’s your best friend. You just wish it could’ve stayed that way.

“It’s okay,” Chaewon comforts.

“No, I don’t want to cry,” you say, sniffling back the rest of your tears. “Let’s just watch videos and fall asleep.”

Chaewon leans over to pick up her tablet at the end of your bed, unlocking it to resume the movie you were playing in the background earlier. “Do you still want to watch this?” she asks.

“We should put on YouTube,” you offer instead. You yawn, closing your eyes as she looks for something interesting to put on. You’re already asleep by the time she makes her choice.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The first thing you see after waking up is Beomgyu’s texts. Chaewon would tell you to ignore him, but she’s sleeping soundly next to you and therefore can’t judge you for opening his texts immediately.

[Beomgyu] u out for the night?

[Beomgyu] helloooooo

[Beomgyu] ok well make sure u get to work on time

You should be getting ready for work. You shouldn’t be answering him. You don’t even know what to say, but your fingers itch to respond.

He still doesn’t know you won’t be coming back for a bit. Should you keep it that way? An ache in your heart begs you to spill everything to him. You look at Chaewon again, making sure she’s asleep. You look back to your phone with a sigh and let your fingers fly across the keyboard without a second thought.

You don’t reread the text once you send it. The only move you make afterwards is to mute his notifications. Something about it makes you feel so empty. You don’t know if you feel like a whole new person or the shell of a person. You don’t have time to linger on it either, because you have to get ready for work.

The feeling persists throughout the day. You feel like a robot, like you’re living life on autopilot, letting your body carry you around while your soul is busy searching for the important answers. You don’t care which font your boss would like best for the title on this report, you don’t care what kind of smoothie your coworker should get. You want to know how to fix your life.

Your walk back from work is much stranger now that you can’t take the path your feet have memorized so well. The thought that this could be the path you’d walk to walk everyday for weeks or even months strikes you with a sort of dismal feeling. This feels different than going to Chaewon’s place after work just to hang out. This is going to Chaewon’s place because that’s where you have to go.

You’re not granted reprieve from the whirlwind of thoughts as you make your way home to Chaewon. You question every choice you’ve made up to this point, all the way back to if moving here with Beomgyu was ever a good idea in the first place.

Is there a way to repair all the damage that has been done? The thought of starting all over again is frightening. If you ruined it all, if there’s no going back to how things were, then you might as well make a life for yourself somewhere new.

Maybe you could convince Chaewon to fly across the country with you. You picture a life where you don’t have to worry about bumping into Beomgyu or Soobin again. It both frightens and intrigues you. You can’t be so greedy, though; she has everything set out for her here. You can’t rip her away from the city that loves her so much. You just wish it was as good to you.

The possibilities of what could have been haunt you. You look at passing couples with a sense of envy, picturing you and Soobin in their place. Every store you pass, every street you walk down is a memory that you’ve made. It’s almost too much to handle.

Your feet almost stop as you pass the library. You only let your eyes linger on the building for a few seconds, but that’s long enough to make your insides twist. The warm lights that seep through the windows don’t feel comforting to you anymore. You walk a little faster and tug your jacket closer to your body. The trip back to Chaewon’s feels a little colder now.

You open your messages with Beomgyu as you near her place. You don’t know if you should be happy or scared that he still hasn’t responded. You finally allow yourself to read your parting message, feeling a little emptier as the words linger in your mind with nothing back from him.

Hi Gyu, I’m staying with Chaewon for a bit. I’ll come back if and when I’m ready. I really regret a lot of my recent decisions, and I think I just needed this as a refresh.

Don’t be mad at me. You’ll always be my best friend. Love ya

You swallow down the knot building in your throat. This is for the better. You repeat the phrase like a mantra as you make it to Chaewon’s house. You wonder when her place will start feeling enough like home, when you’ll stop craving to return to your real one. You open the door and shove down all your thoughts and feelings.

This is for the better.

notes: sorry team soobin. sorry team beomgyu. no one wins... and maybe that's what needed to happen... much love and i hope you enjoyed the read!!!

taglist: @beomgyusluver @blankliving @ewsnup @flowzel @immelissaaa @multistansimp4life @nanamongmong

© delugyu 2025, do not translate or reupload

[saltedbirdcat]

Me and the bestie writing post-canon amnesiac Glinda and yearning, guilty Elphaba angst like

[manicpixiedreamedwins]

I’m going absolutely insane right now because @wordsinhaled and I were just discussing how books and reading are such crucial symbols in payneland’s relationship.

Their relationship started (or was very close to starting) with a bedtime story. Charles died while Edwin was reading him to sleep. He then makes the decision to stay with him after that story. (Sometimes I wonder if he knew he was going to follow him forever at this point and was just trying to be chill don’t mind me I am just screaming and and crying and—)

Then they open the agency. They collect a whole LIBRARY of books. Just. Stay with me. STAY with me—

So books are a thing for them. It’s also been established that Charles doesn’t seem to read them without Edwin, as evidenced by the fact that Edwin tells Charles “…the texts in our office aren't just for display” in episode three, and Charles does not contest his claim- he does ask him to scold less and explain the concepts though.

SO WHAT MAKES ME UTTERLY UNWELL IS I THINK EDWIN READING WITH HIM IS REALLY SPECIAL TO CHARLES and then Monty rolls up with an astrology book like it’s no big thing and oh. Suddenly Edwin has cast him aside after the Devlin House. And reading together was their thing. It was their fucking thing. It has been their thing since they met when Charles died.

And Charles doesn’t even have the words to vocalize why this is upsetting to him because he’s so used to getting stuck in a fawn response. He tells Edwin he thinks it’s “brills that he’s in a good mood” but they need to try and leave (even though that is NOT the face of someone who thinks this is brills lol).

That’s all. I’m so normal about them :))))))

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 45

chapter 68:

1. “Some of those ashes could be Marlene.” bro wtf

2. listing out the names of the people who died in war destroyed me

3. james reacting to his father’s death by flinching away from effie had me broken. i’m destroyed. unwell

4. “The worst part is, when he says what he does next, it's not even a question. "After that, you're leaving."

Sirius' eyes flutter shut, and he croaks, "Yeah, Reggie, I'm leaving again."”

SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING IM UNWELL I WILL NEVER BE OKAY AGAIN!!! I WILL NEVER BE FINE AGAIN

5. “”Sirius, I love you more than anything. You're the first person in this world I ever loved at all. Not Mother, not Father, not James; it was you.”” STILL SCREAMING STILL CRYING STILL SOBBING STILL UNWELL

6. okay just all of the stuff with the black brothers has me in tears. their bond is unbreakable and my heart is in fact very breakable. i’m shattered over them

7. dorcas hasn’t left that spot in over twenty four hours and boy am i worried for her. she needs water. she needs to go pee, i’m sure. she needs to eat something and to rest

8. “Just not afraid to die, then?

No, I'm rather used to it, actually.”

STILL SCREAMING OVER MARLENE!!! STILL SOBBING ACTUALLY

9. “"You. Even you," Dorcas declares harshly, glaring at her. "I'd rather it be you. Instead of her, I'd rather you be dead."”

WOAH! hold up!!! i love marlene as much as the next gal, but nobody goes after my girl lily. she fought and fought and fought as well. she deserved to make it to this side of war too! she tried to keep marlene alive too. hold your horses dorcas.

10. 😧 did you just shoot my lily??? MY LILY??? holy fucking shit. she’s insane.

11. “Some of that blood must have been Marlene's. Dorcas wishes she had bathed in it; Dorcas wants to turn back time and drown in it.” 😟 i’m worried

12. “Never, through any of this, did [James] imagine losing his dad.” kill me. it would be more merciful than making me live after reading that

13. “Monty loved Sirius like a father did; Sirius is allowed to mourn him as a son would.” calling my freind again while sobbing brb

14. god I don’t know how to explain it, but every time pandora is mentioned and she’s alive i let out a huge sigh of relief

15. AROACE PANDORA SUPREMACY

16. i’m so horridly upset that lily lost almost everyone. she lost her family, she lost sybil, she lost kingsley, and dorcas tried to shoot her, so i’m pretty sure she lost her too. lily tried to not love anybody because she was scared of losing them, and sure enough, she was right

17. i get upset when everyone talks about going separate ways. i want everyone to live in one big town and live right next door to each other. i’m thinking hogwarts vibes (except better, ya know) or maybe the mansion they all lived in at the start of ahb!

18. as much as it upsets me that sirius is going to be leaving james and effie and regulus, i’m genuinely so happy that sirius is going to stay with remus

19. oh. i see why sirius has to leave. it’s best for everyone to heal a little before sirius sees his james and regulus again. because otherwise they won’t be able to heal

20. i love wolfstar, and this is so emotional but like, “Just—for right now, what I need is to be with you. I want—that's what I want.” all that does is remind me of high school musical with the “ALL I WANNA DOOOO IS BEE WITH YOU! ONLY YOU! NO MATTER WHERE LIFE TAKES US, NOTHING CAN BREAK US APAAAART, YOU KNOW ITS TRUE, I JUST WANNA BE WITH YOUUUU”

21. ““I wish I did love him that way," Regulus confesses, "because it would have been easier than this. It would have been easier to define how losing him feels, but it's not. James, it's not."”

god, i ache for him. like so badly. i so badly want him to have barty back. more than any other character. (sorry to marlene and monty and sybil and literally everyone else who died)

22. “It's still been three days since the end of the war, and Regulus wonders when they'll stop measuring the passage of time that way.” 😟

23. “Doomed to be a great, big tragedy.” *eye twitch* i’m fine. *even bigger eye twitch*

24. look, i know in the future, everyone will be together again and as happy as they can ever be. but rn, i’m sad

chapter 69:

1. “"I don't care!" Aberforth shouts. "I don't give a damn about your fucked up love story with our sister's murderer, Albus! The fact that you even came to love him to begin with sickens me, let alone that you continued to after he killed Ariana, and still do to this day!"” hell yeah put him in his place

2. “The dead sister card is a little underhanded, admittedly, but Aberforth knows a thing or two about manipulation tactics. He'd have to. Albus is his older brother, after all.” LMAOOOOOO

3. lily mentioning children and sirius and remus just locking eyes and panicking was so fucking funny. bro i’m wheezing

4. BRO AND THEN REGULUS BEING LIKE “you’ve??? never thought about kids??????? wtf??? me and james are having four you little loser??????”

5. dorcas just marching in has me so fucking scared ngl

6. oh god, dorcas became the president coin in this. she wants to make a new hunger games. oh god. oh no

7. as horrifying as it was to see sirius’ train of thought, him being the first one to say no is so fucking satisfying oh my god

8. good for remus fucking standing up for lily. everyone is blaming lily, and finally remus speaks up that the blame cannot rest on lily alone

9. 😧😧 not albus suggesting the jegulus wedding to help with the aftermath. bro he’s fucking insane. it’s so hallow-like of him to suggest that oh my god

10. oh my god dorcas has gone insane, is she about to tell everyone how albus was in love with grindlewald. that’s fucking insane oh my god i can’t wait

11. oh my god it’s even better. it’s that he came up with the rule for the quarterly quell. oh my god this is gonna be great

12. 😧 holy shit. sirius just killed albus. imma be so real, i expected one person to not leave that table, and i thought it would be dorcas, not albus. i thought she would be killed

13. minerva asking lily to be a medic and help save albus, and lily just not will forever be iconic to me

14. as a punishment they banned sirius from the hallow 😭😭😭 babes they knew they had to come up with some punishment as like a way to show actions have consequences, but they chose one that sirius would love 😭😭 that’s so funny to me bro

15. alberforth finally leaving his home is a very satisfying character arch

16. “this story is, first and foremost, about siblings—primarily sirius and regulus ofc—like that is the whole point of this fic, the core of it over anything else. and that feels right considering the source material, like in thg, it was always about katniss' love for prim and how important that was over peeta or gale or anyone else. and i just. i really adore that, and hope i paid a good homage to that, because i really admire it.”

you did. you did pay homage to that. it was abundantly clear that this was about siblings. and i love you for it. thank you, if you see this

alrighty six more chapters to go! i’m in the home stretch yall

[starboymp3]

anyways. i just finished watching ds9 and i wanna know if anyone else is going absolutely apeshit crazy over miles and julian and their insane little relationship. i mean everyone should be running around in the streets screaming and crying and grabbing at each other and shaking. like i honestly feel like i should be locked up or go to the seaside to calm down because bro they make me feel so so unwell and unhinged

[afantasyoffiction]

buddie fic recs!

ok so someone in the buddie safe zone asked for fic recs and i. ahem. i may have gotten carried away while procrastinating on my wip ok

so here's my Official List of Buddie and 9-1-1 fic recs which i will update with fics that make me go insane! it saves me going through my ao3 history ever again i hope

short n sweet buddie fics

anything by cavevulpis on ao3, but especially Hotbox Heroes its SO FUNNY. actually especially It's me or the cat, because that one made me scream into my pillow

(anywhere but) underneath the mistletoe by lenaboskow - some festive teehee minific

the (diaz-buckley-han) mistletoe scheme by pinkpeach tea. yes thats two consecutive mistletoe fics what about it theyre both WONDERFUL

appetency by daisies_and_briars - i was expecting this to be like a fun chill fic and it was but it also completely like made me insane

post season 8 ansgty fix it fics

Stay with me (you're all I need) by accio_magic

and it feels like i'm coming home by dershoimvik, this one was so freaking beautiful and i cannot believe mugs make me cry now

strawberry lemonade by itsjuststar - road trip!

it wakes me up inside just to feel your pain by hopelesslittlekilljoy - haven't finished yet but whoo boy. wow

beating the horse by doitgently. i mean with all of these read the tags but this one especially. don't read if ur already anxious it is entirely buck being mentally and physically unwell about eddie! very good fic

at least its not a tsunami by Taboo_writer - not technically post s8 i don't thinkk? but very good very angsty and now i hear that line and want to cry. more about buddie ndes and their relationship over time

i'll run to you (there's no place i wouldn't go) by kabnd. listen. listen. if tim minear copied this exactly??? giving credit obvi? i would DIE its ALL I NEED. like shenanigans? check. wholesome? check. angsty? check. squealing ceaselessly into my pillow bc theyre so DUMB and STUPID and IN LOVE. um. yeah. check (buck looking at his clipboard check) check

i squealed into my pillow

Buck Day Afternoon by Bookwork0303. this sounds like a crackfic and it kinda is but its actually. inordinately funny and way too angsty and way way way too good for what it actually is, which is a fic about buck trauma dumping to the men who are holding him hostage and everyone shipping buddie about it

nursing our wounds by withmeornotatall - a HILARIOUS outsider pov fic where a writer on Hotshots makes nurse 1 and nurse 2 canon like we all deserve

i'll run to you (there's no place i wouldn't go). yes ive said this already. but goddamm this deserves to be on this list twice jfc INCREDIBLE PLEASE READ IT EVERYONE AND GO COMMENT THIS AUTHOR DESERVES EVERYTHING

alternate universe

I didn't mean to say i do, but i do by schrijverr - haven't finished yet but its. very good. too good. i'm not ok abt it

um anyways anyone reading pls comment ur favs! also credit to the fandom in general because. its been how long? and we already have some incredible freaking stuff out here. like the quality of content in this fandom is insanely good, the amount of interaction is so wholesome and i'm generally so happy to be here

[nametakensff]

oooh can i request 🥶🤬🤧 for st/eddie?

Ok, so this ended up at 13.7k 💀 it just took over and I kept going - thank you so much for the prompt! 💕

E/ddie and S/teve had been planning to go to a concert together for months. The day of, however, they wake up sick and grouchy. Everything continues to spiral from there

~~~~~~

Content:

M/M, Established Relationship, both S/teve and E/ddie have the fetish, colds, contagion, mess, handjobs, fevers, they're just generally super fucking unwell but fuck about it anyway, fetishy dirty talk

CW:

Lots of fighting and angst, mentions of homophobia, Q slur is used

Some other notes:

- I've written E/ddie as having undiagnosed ADHD - nobody knows it's a thing, including him

- The fic is set in January 1988, so S/teve and E/ddie have been in a relationship for about a year and a half

- I'm a British person who cannot drive and has been to Indiana twice, I'm trying my best to make this scenario believable haha

Fic is v NSFW, so under a readmore! Hope you enjoy 🥰

If Eddie hadn’t been teetering on the edge of breaking point for the last several hours already, the car rolling to a miserable, sputtering stop out in the middle of bumfuck nowhere would have been the final straw. As it was, he didn’t know whether to scream or cry. So he sat there in astonished disbelief as Steve attempted to start the car, over and over. He watched his boyfriend slap the steering wheel in frustration through unblinking eyes.

“Steve. Steve? Are you fucking kidding me right now!? Why the fuck have we stopped??”

He watched the muscles in the younger man’s jaw tighten, refusing to look at him and instead frowning angrily out of the front window. His knuckles were white where they gripped the wheel, and Eddie could swear a vein was starting to bulge on his forehead.

“We better not be out of gas. Steve? Are we – are we actually out of gas??”

Radio silence as he continued to stare at Steve, growing more panicked by the second.

“Ste-“

“YES, okay?? We’re out of fucking gas. God damn it!”

Steve slapped the wheel again, grinding his teeth. Before he could help himself, Eddie burst into high pitched squeals of laughter. He sounded deranged, hysterical, but he supposed he was having a breakdown and there was nothing much he could do to prevent it. At least Steve was finally looking at him – though glaring would be the more appropriate term.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie concurred – what the fuck, indeed. But no matter how much he willed it, the nervous laughter would not stop. Steve had had enough, cursing as he got out of the driver’s seat and slamming the door behind him. It would do no good to check for any petrol – Eddie had told him they were running low, but Steve just hadn’t listened. He checked anyway – the metalhead watched in the rear-view mirror as he popped the trunk and rummaged for a full cannister, coming up empty. At least Eddie’s insane cackles had fizzled down to the occasional reedy giggle. Steve got back in his seat, slamming the door again.

Several minutes of almost silence passed, both men staring blankly into space. An awkwardly loud sniffle from Steve jolted Eddie back to the present. He watched as Steve lifted a broad palm to hover in front of his gaping mouth, nostrils twitching in preparation for the oncoming sneeze. Underneath the exhaustion, the anger and utter defeat, Eddie still found himself admiring his boyfriend’s profile, eyes fixed on his crumpling expression, almost on autopilot.

“Hh-HAH!! HAAAESHHH’uuu!! H’RRIIISSHHH!! TSCHHHH!! Mother fucker –“

Steve fumbled in the glove box for a tissue, a napkin, anything to clean himself up with. The powerful sneeze had not only drenched his palm, several droplets running down his wrist, but his nose had started to run down his lip. Again, his search was futile – they had long used up any tissue or bandana they had to hand. Eddie sat in contemplation for a moment, then sighed heavily before reaching into the back seat for his things. He opened his backpack, glanced sadly at his Black Sabbath ‘Born Again’ Tour t-shirt, before wordlessly thrusting it in Steve’s general direction.

He heard Steve pause, hesitating, before he gently took the shirt from Eddie. The older man thought he heard a small ‘thank you’, but it honestly wouldn’t have surprised him if it had been a ���fuck you’ either. Eddie grimaced at the sound of Steve emptying his poor, congested sinuses into his prized possession, arousal and frustration warring in his stomach. He turned his head in time to watch Steve wipe his nostrils dry, painfully red from hours of similar abuse.

Those sneezes had been notably louder and even messier than the endless preceding ones, which had already been amping up in intensity over the past couple of hours, making driving an increasingly difficult task. Eddie wondered if the silver lining of being lost in the middle of nowhere was that Steve hadn’t gotten them into any major accidents by sneezing them into an oncoming vehicle. The thought didn’t help him one bit, however. Silver linings, my ass. Silver linings could fuck off and die – much like he wanted to, in this present moment.

He leaned his head back against the seat, eyes closing against anxiety that flowed through his extremities in waves, engulfing him in a paralytic sense of doom. He really needed to keep his cool, but he was failing miserably. He’d just have to ride it out for now, wait until the panic plateaued and subsided.

He considered their current situation – both of them sick, with what he now suspected was the flu, given how quickly it had come on and the way his head was starting to pound. They were lost; they had no gas and their car was stuck on the side of a road with nothing but cornfields surrounding them as far as the eye could see, like some god damn B Horror movie. They had no food, no more Tylenol, no tissues. They had been fighting for hours. They were tired. It was below freezing outside, and he could already feel the lack of heating. It didn’t take a genius intellect to deduce that they were well and truly Fucked with a capital F.

As if some decidedly non-divine higher power had a personal vendetta against him – a suspicion which Eddie had entertained several times throughout his life – his nose was starting to tickle, again. More accurately, his head was abuzz with the desire to sneeze within milliseconds, giving him almost no warning or buildup before he was jerked forward by a fit of intensely itchy sneezes.

“HhdTT’chiew! Hggxt! Hig’xt! Ehg’xxt! GXXT’CHieww!!”

He had stifled the first one by sheer willpower, able to pinch his wildly flaring nostrils shut between a thumb and forefinger for the next few. The last somehow managed to barrel past his wavering grip, slick nostrils slipping free. He shouldn’t be suppressing them like this – not now, not when he was ill and the only thing it would seek to accomplish was a burgeoning sinus infection. His head throbbed anew, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain, willing himself not to whimper.

“…You shouldn’t-“

“I know. Please. Just. Leave me alone.”

He knew that was the wrong thing to say, even after having said plenty of wrong things today already. He had heard the genuine concern in Steve’s voice when he spoke, and he could now feel that his previous anger had been rekindled, emanating from the former jock in almost tangible waves of resentment. He had often fucking hated his life before Steve, but this was the first time he’d ever fucking hated it since.

Steve was right, of course. He knew stifling would hurt him, and he normally reserved it for when he was unable to hold back an allergic fit in public. Here it was just him and Steve – his boyfriend, with the same fetish for sneezing as him. He should be sneezing with abandon, as he normally did around him. It pleased Steve, it pleased him, it didn’t hurt – what reason could he possibly have for bullying the sneezes into submission?

If he was being completely honest with himself, it was this: Steve didn’t deserve to hear them right now. It was possibly one of the pettiest things Eddie had ever thought, and he’d been plenty petty in his time. But right now, he wanted Steve to know how fucking pissed he was at him, even though it hurt to feel the same sentiment directed back at him. He had purposely twisted himself towards the passenger window as he sneezed, biting back the sound and hiding his face from Steve in entirety. He never thought he would be in a position where he didn’t want Steve’s roving eyes drinking in the visuals of his desperate pre-sneeze expression, but here he fucking was.

Eddie leaned his forehead against the window, eyes shut and jaw clenched. The cold glass against his skin felt wonderful, but it also made him shiver, confirming that he was indeed feverish. Just perfect. Wasn’t it enough that they would be missing the concert they’d been looking forward to for months, on top of fucking hating each other right now, without both of them being sick as a dog? He felt the threatening prickle of tears he’d been holding back for hours forming at the corner of his eyes, the final cherry on top of this shit sundae that was his day.

~~~~~~

Steve, for what it was worth, was feeling just as miserable as his boyfriend. Hell, he thought he probably felt worse – the guilt of ignoring Eddie’s warning about running low on gas burning like acid in the pit of his stomach. At the time, he probably even knew the older man was right; but he’d been so fucking angry with him already for fucking up their money that he’d barely listened to him. Admittedly, he’d been a grade A asshole ever since he woke up that morning, lurching forward with a throat-scraping sneeze, a nasty head cold already well settled in his sinuses. His prickly mood had practically invited friction with his sensitive boyfriend, who was also coming down with something himself.

He clenched the steering wheel with both hands and urged himself to calm down. The anger and frustration he’d been feeling almost nonstop for hours had left him shaking. Despite it all, despite how this was the angriest he had ever been with his boyfriend, he couldn’t help his almost pavlovian response to the older man’s irritated little sneezes. His traitorous dick throbbed against the tight confines of his levi’s. The fact that he couldn’t control his physical response just made him even angrier – it was a never-ending cycle of frustration that seemed to travel through him in an uncomfortable thrum. He hated feeling this way.

His sinuses buzzed and he reached up with a fist to rub at his nose, mashing it around so harshly he could hear the resounding wet squelching noises with each motion. He glanced at Eddie, finding him still slumped and motionless up against the passenger door, staunchly ignoring him. His turned back felt like a door closing in his face, the metalhead about as distant from Steve as he could possibly be whilst still sitting less than a few feet away from him. Eddie could be moody at times, but today was a whole new level of dramatics that Steve knew he had been the cause of. The sight of his boyfriend inching himself as far away from him as he physically could was incredibly painful, so Steve turned his gaze back to the steering wheel and tried to think.

They didn’t really have much of a choice either way – they would simply have to wait for someone to come by. He should’ve brought one of the walkie-talkies that had saved him countless times in his misadventures against Vecna, The Mindflayer, the Demodogs – but hindsight was 20/20 and perhaps given all the insane supernatural danger he’d been through, he’d neglected the very real possibility that the mundane could be dangerous too.

His head gave a sudden and sharp throb, wrenching him out of his thoughts as he cursed softly under his breath. He made a mental note to track down and kill the Family Video customer that had gifted him with this real sucker punch of a bug. The second the guy had walked in, eyes streaming and nose bright red, Steve should’ve hightailed it to the back of the store. But Robin was already off with another customer, and the guy beelined to the counter where Steve had been standing. He tried his best to smile welcomingly at him, pointedly looking anywhere other than his twitching pink nostrils.

The guy had asked Steve for recommendations on a date night movie, even as he took a damp wad of tissues from his pocket and pawed with it at his nose. Good luck with that date, buddy, Steve had thought whilst rattling off a list of romantic comedies that would fit the bill. He remembered that ‘Dirty Dancing’ had just come out on VHS, and the guy seemed to brighten at that idea, so Steve went to grab a copy for him. He handed it to the guy and hurriedly typed away at the computer, eager to get this dude and his germs out of the store.

He’d been so close, too, but as he turned to tell the poor guy to enjoy his movie, he’d been met with the sight of him sneezing, uncovered, down at his counter. To his credit, he seemed completely mortified, attempting to wipe the surface clean with an even dirtier tissue, but Steve had assured him through only slightly clenched teeth that it was okay, and to feel better. The man had all but sprinted through the door, and Steve set to sterilising the counter, disgust and arousal battling inside him at the realisation that the colossal sneeze had actually left visible droplets in its wake.

He should’ve known it would be his turn to get sick. It was January, and he’d made it all the way through December without so much as a sniffle, avoiding catching Robin’s cold earlier that month even after they’d cuddled their way through a movie marathon in her living room. It was practically unheard of that he would get through Winter without catching a cold. It was unheard of that he would only catch one. He had only hoped he could count on that good luck a little while longer, just long enough that he could enjoy the concert Eddie had been planning for months.

~~~~~~

Iron Maiden was not a band that Steve had cared to listen to, nor were horror movies something he cared to watch. Dating Eddie Munson meant that he didn’t really have all that much of a choice in the matter. Several months earlier, Eddie had convinced Steve to check out ‘Phenomena’ with him. The last film they’d watched together was ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’, which had quickly become one of Steve’s favourites – and despite his griping, he knew Eddie liked it, too – but he was well overdue a horror movie watch with his distinctly macabre boyfriend. It was totally worth it watching Eddie’s entire face light up, big brown eyes practically glittering with excitement, when Steve acquiesced.

“This one’s from Italy,” Eddie had told him enthusiastically as he pushed the VHS into the player, “But it’s supposed to have a totally metal soundtrack, and the director – you remember ‘Suspiria’, that movie with the ballerinas and witches?”

Steve had remembered, but it was less the witches that had terrified him than the dog suddenly ripping a guy’s entire throat out unprompted. He’d made Eddie escort him to and from the bathroom that night. He nodded.

“Well, that guy, Argento, he made this one, too!”

“Oh, goodie.”

Steve raised an arm against the offending cushion that Eddie flung down at him, the two wrestling briefly before settling in and focusing on the movie. Steve honestly found it horribly boring – it had that one girl from ‘Labyrinth’ in it, a movie Eddie and Robin gushed about regularly, but not much else was going on to keep him interested. In general, watching his boyfriend’s animated profile was much more entertaining.

It had been in a sudden chase scene, a young girl running from some unseen pursuer and towards a gruesome fate that ‘Flash of the Blade’ by Iron Maiden had started to play and Eddie had been head-banging rhythmically within seconds. He turned to Steve, completely and utterly ecstatic, child-like grin splitting his face, and Steve’s heart had been so full he’d been unable to do much more than smile dreamily at his boyfriend. When Eddie had eased up on the frantic fidgeting and belting out the lyrics alongside the movie, he’d snuggled up to him and breathed in the scent of his warm curls until he’d dozed off.

He’d woken up just before the movie had ended. A lake was burning or something like that. When Eddie had turned to him with a huge grin and asked him what his favourite part of the movie had been, Steve honestly answered “The part with the Iron Maiden song." Eddie beamed.

“You liked that song, Stevie?”

“Yeah, it was cool.” Steve answered, not entirely untruthfully. It was less the song itself – more that it animated Eddie in a way Steve would like to see every single day for the rest of his life.

“The lyrics are fuckin’ awesome, too – kind of like a D&D, intrepid knight kind of theme!”

“Totally.” Steve smiled at him.

“You know…The Maiden are coming to Indianapolis in January – I was gonna go with Corroded Coffin but they’re all busy that weekend, so – so what if we went, together? I know it’s not your thing, I totally get if you don’t wanna go, but-“

“I’ll go with you.”

Eddie looked so excited that Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Yes. More of that. Keep looking at me like that.

“Oh, fuck, are you serious, Stevie? Fuckin’ A, man! I need to get organised!”

~~~~~~~

And so, Steve had committed to the gig, nearly as excited as Eddie for their little trip up to Indy. It wasn’t often that they managed to get the time to spend more than their evenings together, even now that they finally had their own apartment. It had taken a great deal of planning, and it should have been perfect. But it had all gone to shit.

The first thing that went wrong, as noted before, was both of them waking up sick. They’d been grouchy, neither of them looking forward to the long drive ahead. Steve was resentful of the fact that he would be crammed in an arena jampacked with sweaty, drunken metal dudes, and Eddie was resentful of the fact that Steve was resentful. Steve hadn’t mean to put a damper on their mood, but he truly felt awful and couldn’t imagine a worse way to spend his evening. He would much rather stay bundled up in bed with his sick boyfriend, where they could look after each other and enjoy each other’s company in peace. Maybe when they felt a little better, they could really enjoy their mutual cold in a more…intimate fashion. But no. They’d committed with both time and money. Car journey and concert it was.

The second thing that had gone wrong, after a bumpy but still salvageable morning, was Eddie losing their food, medicine and other supplies that he had just bought at the first gas station they stopped at. They were good for water, a six pack of one litre bottles in the trunk, and they figured since they’d be grabbing dinner later that evening, a couple of sandwiches and snacks for the road would suit them fine. Steve had volunteered to head into the store, knowing how distracted his boyfriend could get, but Eddie had waved him off and insisted it’d be fine. When Eddie had strolled back to the car 20 minutes later, backpack slung lazily over one shoulder, Steve had asked him if everything was okay.

“More than okay, dude.” Eddie had grinned at him, then opened his backpack to reveal a freshly purchased bag of weed.

“Where did you-?”

“Ran into a previous client in the store – he deals now, and he gave me an old chum’s discount.”

Steve pulled out of the parking lot, thinking to himself that smoking up later on might make the miserable experience of being sick at a concert more bearable than if he’d been sober. It was about 10 minutes later that through the brain fog he realised he hadn’t seen Eddie carrying any kind of purchase from the store, and hadn’t seen anything but weed in his backpack.

“Munson, you did – get us food and stuff, right?”

Eddie, who had been lazily leaning back in his seat and rubbing at his nose with the palm of his hand, suddenly shot upright.

“Shit. SHIT.”

Steve jumped a little.

“What, dude?! Are you okay?”

Eddie groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“I left the stuff behind the gas station – I put the bag down when I was getting the weed.”

Steve gaped at him before cursing under his breath. He looked for the nearest opportunity to turn round and swung the car back in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing, man?”

“We might still be able to find it. I mean, what the fuck, Eddie? Drug deals?? Right now?”

Steve could feel the anger bubbling up steadily, his regular patience almost non-existent. Eddie was more than willing to rise to the occasion.

“It’s not like I meant to lose our shit, okay? I just – you know, I forget things.”

“That’s why I offered to go in myself!”

“I’m not an infant, Harrington, I can function well enough to buy crap at a store.”

“Clearly fucking not?! You left our stuff and spent our money on pot – thanks for fucking asking, by the way - when we could have easily found something closer to the gig. Like seriously, man, not cool.”

“UGH, I didn’t mean to leave it! I got distracted and I just – it was a good deal and I thought it would help us mellow out. That it would help you mellow out.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean.”

“Steve…..you can’t honestly tell me you don’t know how much of a fucking asshole you’ve been to me today?”

“I’m not the asshole who prioritised a fucking drug deal over food and medicine!”

“Ohh my god, Steve! I bought our fucking food, I bought our fucking medicine, I just forgot it, okay?! I forgot to pick the bag up off the ground, heaven forbid a guy make a mistake every once in while!”

Steve could see that Eddie was visibly upset, and he knew he felt awful about forgetting their things. He was about to apologise for overreacting when he noticed Eddie freeze up once again, patting his pockets frantically and moaning.

“What. Eddie, what? What’s wrong now?”

“….Can’t find my wallet. I think I left it in the bag.”

Steve could have sworn he saw red. They’d put almost all of their money together in Eddie’s wallet, leaving just enough for hotel fees in Steve’s, a stupid fucking thing to do in hindsight but something that neither of them had assumed would fuck them in the ass later.

“I genuinely don’t know what to say to you. Oh my fucking god.”

Steve saw Eddie wince out of the corner of his eye, and he realised he had quite possibly never hated himself more than he did in that moment. He was acting just like his father, but he couldn’t seem to stop. The anger was so palpable he could hardly breathe.

They drove the rest of the way back to the store in silence. Eddie was yanking the passenger door open before the car had even come to a full stop, sprinting towards the back of the store. Steve watched as his boyfriend emerged from behind the building empty handed several moments later, taking in his devastated expression. He swore loudly before resting his head on the steering wheel, motionless as Eddie got back into the car.

“…I found a ten in my pocket, but we might need it for gas later on.” He heard Eddie mutter.

“We don’t. We need food and medicine more.”

“No, dude, we’re gonna need more gas.”

“And I’m telling you, we don’t. Come on, I’ll buy us stuff this time.”

Steve looked over at the older man and held his hand out expectantly for the money. The look Eddie shot his way was lethal. The metalhead slapped the bill into his palm.

“Knock yourself out, mom.”

Steve got out of the car.

“Rather be a mom than a brat.”

He slammed the door behind him.

~~~~~~

“Hh-HH! Heh’ENGXT’tchieww!! HDT’Tsiewww!! Eht’tchieww! Hh’ISSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie’s head rocked forward with the force of the fit, clutching the steering wheel like a lifeline. Luckily he hadn’t veered off course too much this time. He noticed suddenly that Steve had reached out to steady the wheel while he sneezed, and though the gesture was perfectly reasonable, he was already so angry with him that it just served to piss him off more than anything. He snuffled and elbowed Steve’s hand away.

“Dude, I got this. Leave it alone.”

Steve threw up his hands and rolled his eyes, a supremely immature gesture that made Eddie resent him all the more. It was a sickening feeling, being angry with Steve, and on top of his worsening cold Eddie didn’t know how much more he could take. He was angry at himself, as well. He felt stupid, so fucking stupid. Steve was right to be pissed at him for the colossal fuck-up he had managed to achieve – hell, we would be pissed at Steve had their roles been reversed.

What really fucking stung, though, was the disappointment and derision his boyfriend had directed his way. It was nasty and it wasn’t like anything he’d ever experienced before from the former jock, even when he really had been an asshole at school. He was normally such a sweetheart. He understood that Eddie could lose track of time, forget what he was doing in any given moment. It was part of what had made school so miserable – he had tried his best but it was like no matter how much he tried to focus, he just couldn’t. Like his brain was on constant overdrive. He thought Steve had accepted that about him, really understood him. But the way he’d looked at him when Eddie had messed up at the gas station, the tone of his voice – it hurt so badly he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. He knew Steve was sick, and that made him sulky, but fuck, man.

He heard Steve gasp beside him. They’d both started sneezing in earnest a few hours ago, raging their way through the small box of tissues Steve had managed to buy for them alongside a bottle of Tylenol and a single sandwich that they had split. They were down to just a few tissues.

“HAAAEEESHHH’uuu!! HARRESHHHIEWW!! TISSSSH’ieww!!”

Eddie listened in vague appreciation to the rich vocal sound of Steve’s increasingly violent cold sneezes, wishing he didn’t hate him so much in that moment so he could enjoy them in full. He was concerned at the way they had Steve tumbling forward over his knees, jerking against the restraint of his seat belt. Any thought of them actually having a good time at this concert had all but vanished at this point, but to admit that out loud would be to admit defeat, and mean they’d put themselves through all this misery for fucking nothing.

Steve swiped the last two tissues from the box and blew his nose, a thick, crackling sound that betrayed just how congested he was becoming. Two wouldn’t be enough, Eddie knew, and his suspicions were confirmed when Steve rooted in his pocket to finish cleaning himself up with a used, balled-up tissue. Eddie sighed. He had a few bandanas in his backpack – he could offer one to Steve now, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of talking to him.

They drove for another 30 or so minutes before Eddie started to pull up to a gas station. Steve sat up and looked at him questioningly.

“Why are we stopping at a gas station?”

“To watch a fucking movie.”

“Eddie-“

“We’re fucking obviously getting gas, Steve - we’re not gonna last the rest of the drive.”

“With what money are you getting gas?”

Eddie glared at Steve, patience worn completely thin. God, the way he was talking to him like he was his fucking dad, or something. It was infuriating.

“We still have the money in your wallet – it would only cost a couple of bucks.”

“No, no – we worked it out, this is just enough for our hotel. We can’t show up short, they’d turn us away.”

“They’re not gonna get the chance to turn us away if we don’t even ghh-get th-there-hh!!”

Eddie scrubbed at his flaring nostrils in a desperate attempt to mollify the tickle, but luck was decidedly not on his side today.

“Ehh-!! EGXXXT’shiewww!! HAHDT’chieww!! IGSHHH!! HIGXT’shieww!! EHH’TSSCH’ieww!! Ahh…F-fuck…”

The sneezes were intense and incredibly wet, curling him over the steering wheel and forcing tears of irritation from his eyes. He felt Steve reach out to steady the wheel again, this time not fighting it. He was almost trembling in the aftermath of that fit, an unwelcome combination of pleasure and frustration prickling at his skin. He sniffled miserably.

“Bless you.”

He blushed in response to the blessing, neither of them having acknowledged each other’s sneezing for hours. Perhaps Steve had temporarily forgotten to be angry with him, given the dramatic scene he had just made. For the first time in their relationship, he cursed their shared fetish - it was making things increasingly complicated. He did not like the mixed signals his brain was sending him – ‘never talk to Steve ever again’ and ‘fuck Steve in the back seat right now’ were about as contradictory as could be, and the confusion only made him grumpier.

He continued to drive towards the gas station, about to pull in when Steve’s hand, still firmly wrapped round the wheel, twisted them away. Eddie yelped in surprise.

“Are you fucking insane, Harrington?! What are you doing?!”

“We don’t need gas, Munson. I told you already.”

Eddie could hardly believe what was happening. He had never known Steve to behave so – so childishly. It was fucking rich, considering the brat accusation Steve had hurled his way earlier that day. He smacked Steve’s hand away and continued onward past the gas station.

“Fine. If you fucking say so, King Steve.” He got a small kick of satisfaction watching Steve squirm in response, but otherwise saying nothing.

“We’re switching in 20 minutes.” Steve mumbled after a beat.

Eddie grunted in recognition. He wondered if Steve realised he wasn’t due to drive for another hour, but he was feeling far too petty and passive-aggressive to correct him.

~~~~~

Eddie was practically tearing his hair out. Some way, somehow, they had managed to get lost. Like, middle of nowhere, cornfields for days lost. Both of them had driven to Indianapolis before without a single issue. This had to be a curse. It just had to be.

The road map spread out over his knees made zero fucking sense – it didn’t help that Steve wouldn’t let him turn on the overhead light, and he was instead holding a torch with half-dead batteries casting a flickering beam over the endless configuration of road diagrams. He was starting to feel a little car sick for his efforts, taking short breaks to peer out of the window and find his bearings. The last of the Tylenol was doing fuck all for him, and he could not. Stop. Sneezing. Case in point, his breath started to hitch yet again.

“Heh-!!”

He fumbled in his pocket for his bandana, almost but not quite bringing it up to cover his mouth in time.

“ENGXTCH’tssieww!!”

The first sneeze burst out of him, pink nostrils flared wide in desperation, dousing the map in his lap with a cloud of spray. He muffled the next three into his bandana, gasping for breath when they finally subsided. This cold – this flu, perhaps – was absolutely kicking his ass. These sneezes gave him hardly any warning, taking on a life of their own and pitching him forward helplessly at their leisure. He blinked down at the map through bleary eyes, noticing to his chagrin that he had sneezed a veritable puddle all over Columbus and the surrounding terrain of about 20 miles. Luckily, not an area they should be anywhere near – though perhaps it couldn’t completely be written off given that they could literally be on god damn Mars as far as Eddie was concerned.

He abandoned the map, attempting to fold it neatly for all of 5 seconds before he was scrunching it up in anger and jamming it back into the glove box. Steve had stopped listening to his suggestions ages ago, anyway. He just kept driving down the endless expanse of the pitch black road, sneezing explosively every couple of minutes. Eddie was no longer glancing at his wristwatch, slowly resigning himself to the fact that they would, in fact, be missing the concert in its entirety. He would cry about it later when Steve couldn’t see. Right now, he was trying not to freak out about the fact that he could have sworn they had driven down this particular spread of infinite road before – not that it looked any different, the only visual markers being corn to the left, corn to the right, corn fucking everywhere.

It's not like this could get any worse.

It was as this traitorous thought flashed through Eddie’s mind that he heard Steve curse and pull the car to the side of the road, just as it sputtered miserably and abruptly stopped dead in its tracks.

~~~~~

They’d been sitting there in silence for at least 10 minutes before Steve started to shiver. It was well into the evening now and the lack of heating of any kind was really starting to get to him. His eyes had adjusted to the dark, at least – it wasn’t that bad, out here. The night sky was even brighter than Hawkins, brimming with the light of a billion stars. He remembered the night that Eddie had taken him up to Weathertop Hill and they’d stargazed for hours, never letting go of each other’s hands. The thought of it right now made his chest hurt. He was positive that Eddie would no longer want to be with him, not after today. In a sad way, he was already in a phase of pre-emptive acceptance – a form of self-protection where he convinced himself that the worst was bound to happen, so he may as well get ready for it. Robin told him he had low self-esteem, but he liked to think of it more as emotional pragmatism.

A sudden small hiccup of breath jolted Steve out of his ruminations. He peered over at his (probably soon to be ex) boyfriend’s back and noticed it was trembling. Another slightly louder gasp of breath graced the air and Steve realised with a sickly, sinking feeling that Eddie was crying. Eddie was crying because of him. Steve had felt pretty fucking awful about his behaviour in the past but nothing, nothing compared to how awful he felt in this moment. The pain in his chest seemed to pulse outwards and engulf him in its entirety.

“….Eddie? Baby?”

His voice sounded so fragile he even shocked himself. Eddie froze for a second before continuing to cry softly, giving Steve nothing in response. Steve noticed that the trembling had become full body shaking. He opened his mouth to speak but was quickly cut off by a fit of sneezes that came on so quickly he only managed to catch the last one in Eddie’s ruined shirt.

“HEEEISSSHHH!! AEEESHHUUU!! HH’TISHHHH!! MMP’TSCHHH!!”

He blushed, wishing not for the first time in his life that he was able to control the volume and force of his sneezing. He normally loved sharing this fetish with Eddie, but in this moment it couldn’t be more of an inconvenience. He blew his nose as quietly as possible, which was not at all, before reaching out a tentative hand to rest in the centre of the older man’s spasming back. He felt Eddie flinch, but he didn’t move away. Steve frowned at the heat emanating beneath his palm, sizzling hot even through the fabric of Eddie’s long-sleeve tee. It startled him, given that he was sure he already had an elevated temperature himself – shouldn’t Eddie feel normal to him? Was he that much warmer?

He felt Eddie’s back expand under his fingertips before the older man was suddenly jerking forward with a series of tightly stifled sneezes, the first five almost completely silent besides a soft squelching sound. Steve rubbed a small circle between Eddie’s shoulder blades in a way that he hoped would be soothing, biting his bottom lip hard as concern coursed through him. Eddie continued to sneeze, finally giving in and letting them loose, the persistent cold-induced tickle leaving him gasping helplessly.

“HIG’tchieww!! Engxt’TCHIEWW!! ‘TCHIEWW!! Eh’NGXT’Tschieww!! Nnn….”

He’d thoroughly sprayed his palm with the fit, which he then wiped shakily on his thigh. Steve heard him sniffle thickly before drooping back against the windowpane. He leaned forward in his seat and placed his other hand on Eddie’s left shoulder.

“Eddie? Are you okay, honey?”

He heard Eddie mumble incoherently before a rumbling cough had him pitching forward again, muscles spasming under Steve’s palm with the effort. Steve cursed and rubbed his back through it. When Eddie’s breath evened out again, Steve used the hand on his shoulder to gently push him back into his seat. The metalhead still wouldn’t look at him, eyes stubbornly fixed to the right, but Steve barely noticed. He took in Eddie’s pale, tear-stained face, the heavy circles under his eyes, his painfully red nose which was leaking down to his lips. He looked pallid, and so, so unwell. His cheeks had little spots of colour on them, a sure sign of fever. Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Ohh, Eds….”

He choked out a sob. It was too much. He hadn’t cried since the aftermath of their stint with Vecna, alone in Robin’s bathroom - and even that had been measured, controlled. He didn’t cry. Harringtons don’t cry. But all the same, here he was, bawling like a little kid. He felt sick, he felt like an asshole, they were lost and cold and hungry and tired and it felt like the end of the world so he just cried and cried and cried.

~~~~~

Eddie had intended to ignore Steve to his final breath. He was too weak to resist as the younger man pushed him back in his seat and out of the passive-aggressive contortion he had worked himself into against the car door. That last fit of sneezes had left his head swimming, and he was honestly grateful for the comfortable upholstery of his boyfriend’s BMW. Even as angry as he was, the warmth and weight of Steve’s hand on his back had been, for a moment, the most reassuring feeling in the world. But Steve didn’t need to know that. Steve could damn well wait until he was ready to forgive him.

But then Steve started crying.

Eddie spun round, eyes fixing firmly on Steve’s crumpled expression. It was terrifying, like seeing a parent or teacher or other unshakeable adult cry for the first time and realising they’re just an overgrown kid themself. His boyfriend looked so vulnerable, so lost, so unbelievably sad that Eddie found that he burst into tears as well. His strong, powerful boyfriend, the same man who had leapt headfirst into a lake in pitch darkness, who had ripped a demon bat monster in two with his bare hands, who had faced paranormal monsters to protect his friends countless times – that man, his Stevie, was crying like a little boy who’d lost his mommy in a supermarket. And it was all his fault.

He reached up and squeezed the hand on his shoulder.

“Stevie…Please don’t cry, Steve, please! It’s ok! We’re ok!”

He was sobbing almost as hard as Steve, ignoring the way the pounding in head was swelling to an almost unbearable throb. He leaned his body awkwardly over into Steve’s seat and wrapped his arms around him in a fierce hug. Fighting be damned, this entire fucking nightmare of a day be damned. He just wanted Steve to stop crying like the world was ending before he actually died of a broken heart.

“Eddie-!! I’m s-sorry-!” Steve choked out where he had buried his face against his shoulder, fingers digging fiercely into Eddie’s back. Eddie shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Stevie – I fucked it up! I always fuck things up!”

Admitting it out loud sent a new wave of sadness rushing through him and he cried harder, squeezing Steve tight.

“Y-you don’t-! You’re not-! It was m-my fault, I was just….awful to you! You didn’t do anything wrong, I fucked it up-!”

Steve sounded close to hyperventilating, so Eddie willed himself to calm down for the both of them. He shushed him gently, stroking his hair and holding his body close as it was wracked with gasping sobs. He’d been such a petty tool, trying to punish Steve with his silence. Steve had been right before – he was a brat, at least he had been today, and he needed to fucking grow up.

“Shh, honey….it’s ok, we were both being fucking assholes. We are fucking assholes, and that’s why we work so well together. We’re soul holes!!”

Steve snorted a brief laugh between sobs and Eddie felt the icy fingertips of dread loosen slightly from where they’d been squeezing his temples in a death grip. He could fix this. As long as they could love each other, everything else was insignificant. They would be okay.

He continued to hold Steve, ignoring the way his back was starting to protest at the angle he was holding himself at. The younger man was starting to calm down, occasional hiccupping breaths shaking him but otherwise slowing his crying. Eddie pressed small kisses to his hair, conscious of his runny nose and trying his best to angle himself in a way he wouldn’t make a total mess of the expertly crafted style Steve was so proud of.

He felt Steve tense in his grip, and started to ask what was wrong when Steve rocked forward against the protective cover of his shoulder and sneezed violently.

“HEHH’MPPTSXHH!! MPP’TSCHIEWW!!! MPPPTSCHHH!!!”

Eddie’s breath hitched, blood rushing south as he felt every shiver, every contraction of Steve’s muscular body in his arms. The sensation of his pointed nose pressing insistently up against his shoulder and the sheer volume of each sneeze so close to his ear had him reeling. They’d been particularly high-pitched for the former jock, making Eddie think he must have had a particularly irritating tickle in his nose. He moaned softly and stroked Steve’s back.

“Bless you, honey. Poor baby,” he sighed, noting that Steve hadn’t made any action to extract his face from where it remained pressed firmly up against him. He could feel the moistened fabric clinging to his skin.

“Did you make a mess, sweetheart?”

“….Ymmf.”

Eddie took that as a ‘yes’.

He gently sat back in his seat, extricating himself from Steve and watching as his boyfriend’s flushed, dripping face came into sight. A thick strand of mess hung between Steve’s left nostril and the damp patch on Eddie’s shirt. Steve scrambled for the shirt in his lap, gingerly wiping the mess away on Eddie’s shoulder and severing the connection before bringing it up to his own nose. His eyes were puffy and sore as he peered up at Eddie, blushing behind the bundle of fabric pressed to his face.

Eddie reached out and squeezed Steve’s thigh. A sudden sharp pain speared through his skull and he audibly groaned, pressing his head back against his seat. Steve took his hand in his own. They sat for a moment, not talking, but for the first time that day the silence was comfortable.

~~~~~

Steve’s head throbbed in the aftermath of what had to be one of the most intense cries of his life. It wasn’t something he wanted to experience in any regular capacity. He was also terribly embarrassed, even though it was just Eddie who had seen him. Robin was constantly reminding him that it was healthy to accept when you needed help, or to recognise when you were approaching your limit. Some metaphor about a pot boiling over that had just made Steve’s mind wander to the food he had planned to cook for when the kids came round to his apartment later that week. The point being, he should definitely work on his listening skills and Robin was right. Again.

He could feel Eddie shaking as he held his palm in his own. The older man was leaning back into his seat with a pained expression plastered to his face. Steve cleared his throat.

“So….”

Eddie squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, Big Boy?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being ‘this is a total downer’ and 10 being ‘I would like to request some assistance in dying’, where are you at right now?”

He heard Eddie chuckle before moaning softly.

“About a gazillion. I feel….really fucking bad, Stevie.”

Steve turned his head to take in the older man’s appearance once more. He was deathly pale, looking even worse than he had just 10 minutes earlier. Steve tried not to panic.

“You look awful, Eds…” he cooed.

Eddie cracked a crooked smile at him.

“You sure know how to make a guy f-feel…special-hh’HH!! ENGXT’Chieww!! HDDT’chieww!! IGSHHH’ieww!! Hhh’HDT’chieww-IGT’chieww-ICKKSHH!! Ohhh, Jesus…”

Steve was unable to make out the spray in the dark, but he could hear just how wet and sickly each sneeze sounded. His cock throbbed in his jeans, unbelievably still as interested in Eddie’s impressive displays of sensitivity as ever. Eddie snuffled thickly and Steve held out the soiled shirt to him. Eddie took it and blew his nose on a dry spot, of which there were now exceedingly few. Steve rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Eddie’s hand. His boyfriend groaned before speaking again.

“Ugh, I can’t fucking stop. This has to be some new kind of super plague.”

“Well, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

He felt Eddie squeeze his hand.

“What about you? Scale of 1 to 10?”

Steve paused, doing a quick mental scan of his general wellbeing. He felt like ass.

“…A billion, maybe? Not as bad as you.”

Eddie scoffed.

“You’ve gotta be feeling pretty bad to cry like that.”

Steve bristled, embarrassment pulsing through him.

“I-!! You were-! I just-!”

“Woahhh, dude, it’s okay – I’m not mocking you, or anything. I was cryin’ too. Before you even started. It’s no big deal, Stevie. I just know it’s not something you do very often – or, at all, actually?”

Steve sighed.

“Yeah. You know – you know my dad. How he feels about – vulnerability, or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt the ever-present tickle in his sinuses flicker to life, suddenly and with little warning. He pitched forward with another round of messy cold sneezes.

“HH’RIISHHHH!! HAARRRESHEWW!! ITSSCHHHH!!”

“Engxt’chiew!! Hh!! HIG’Tchieww!! Ingxt’chieww!! ENGXT’TCHIEWWW!!”

Steve and Eddie made eye contact at the same time, sheepishly turning to look at one another behind their protective barriers of choice – Steve’s hands, steepled to his face, and Eddie’s elbow, which he gripped steadily with his other arm. They burst into laughter, stopping only when Steve buckled forward with a coughing fit, Eddie whacking him on the back as he proceeded to sputter and choke. He finally leant back, wiping the spittle from his lips.

“What the actual fuck is our life right now, dude.”

“You know? I think it’s actually pretty on brand for us, man.”

Steve shot a sardonic glance his way.

“Elaborate.”

“Just, you know – the first time I really spoke to you outside of the occasional encounter at school? I was literally on the run, a god damn murder suspect. We fought demon monsters in an alternate dimension. I figured out you liked me because we have this fucking obscure fetish and you kept popping boners all allergy season.”

Steve groaned.

“Shut upppp…”

Eddie didn’t shut up.

 “What I mean, is this: we’ve never done anything in an even remotely conventional fashion. I think I may genuinely be allergic to conformity. What’s another allergy to me?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I am. We are. It’s fitting that our first real fight be such a huge, dramatic affair that ends with us freezing to death on the side of a country road. Poetic, some might say.”

“We’re not going to die out here, man. Somebody’ll come by.”

Even as Steve said it, he was doubtful. They’d been driving alone for hours before the car had stopped and nothing had come from either direction since. More worryingly, though, was the fact that he could now see his own breath, and Eddie’s teeth were starting to chatter. He fiddled with the ring on Eddie’s index finger.

“Let’s get in the backseat, share some body heat, okay?”

He watched Eddie nod briskly, face scrunching up.

“Okay. Want to hold you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. It’s okay though, remember? It’s okay.”

~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later and the two were bundled up in the backseat of Steve’s car. They’d at least remembered to bring coats with them, but otherwise assumed due to the heat of the venue and the quick turn around from car to hotel to venue to car, they wouldn’t need such heavy padding. Luckily, Steve found an old blanket in the trunk from the last time they’d gone on a picnic, which was now firmly secured around them. Eddie complained the blanket was too scratchy, but Steve had replied that there was no way he could tell through his thick Winter parka. Eddie had eventually conceded.

Steve had wedged himself against the car door, the hood of his thick coat offering some cushioning. Eddie was lying in his arms, his back up against Steve’s chest, head resting on his shoulder. They nestled into each other, desperately seeking each other’s warmth. Eddie felt like a furnace to Steve – which, given the circumstances, was not unwelcome, but it worried him to no end that the long-haired man continued to shiver in his arms despite their combined heat.

They had retired Eddie’s Black Sabbath shirt as an honorary snot rag, moving on to Steve’s extra polo shirt as their new makeshift tissue. It was currently pressed up against Eddie’s face as he shook with yet another sneezing fit.

“ENGXT’tchieww!! HDDT’tchieww!! TSCH’ieww!! HAGT’TSCHIEWWW!!! Uhgg…”

He snuffled thickly, settling back against the younger man. Steve’s cock was hard, pressed up as it was against Eddie’s lower back. He loved being able to experience every tremor, every jerk that travelled through his poor love’s body as the sneezes rocked him back and forth. He knew Eddie could feel how excited he was, but they both ignored it.

The metalhead had suggested fooling around to keep them warm, and Steve had even entertained the idea, thinking he could maybe get past the tight band of tension squeezing at his temples. An orgasm might even lessen the discomfort. But then Eddie had all but swooned to the gravelly earth the second he attempted to get out of the car, and Steve had nipped that idea in the bud almost instantly. He sprinted over to his boyfriend and helped him to his feet – slowly, since that sprint had left his head swimming and black spots dancing before his eyes. He’d deposited Eddie in the backseat, grabbed the blanket, and arranged them as best he could.

Eddie had wanted to be the big spoon, but Steve had flat out refused, stating that he didn’t want to be responsible for squashing the older man to death in his weakened state. He had at least 20 pounds on him and the pressure of his solid musculature pressing the dungeon master up against the door was a surefire way to suffocate him. Eddie had argued that Steve was faring no better than he in the oxygen department, pointing out that he was still winded by the tumultuous journey from trunk to backseat. Steve told him to bite him. Eddie reached out and nibbled on his forearm.

So here they were, mercifully settled at last. Or, as settled as they could be, given that they were frequently curled upwards or jostled backwards by their damn near constant sneezing. As Eddie scrubbed his itchy nostrils against the fabric of the shirt, Steve pressed kisses to his fuzzy curls.

“Bless you, baby. That was a big one, at the end.”

“Mmm. They’re conspiring to kill me.”

Steve snorted.

“’They’? Your sneezes?”

“Absolutely. Always been out to get me, but now they’ve finally decided to put me out of my misery.”

“So dramatic.”

Eddie fidgeted in Steve’s arms, trying to realign himself to the choice position he had been in before his cold had so rudely uprooted him. Steve bit his lip as Eddie rubbed up against his cock, holding back a moan. The older man seemed to find a position he was happy with and went boneless against Steve, letting out a tiny little mewl of satisfaction. Steve tightened his arms around him, an overwhelming wave of affection urging him to draw his boyfriend closer to him.

“You’re so cute, Munson.”

“I know. Now tell me I’m pretty.”

“You’re so pretty.”

“Flatterer. Keep it coming.”

“You’re s-so-! Ohh, gonna-!! HH’HEH!!”

Eddie lifted the shirt in his grasp, angling it back over his shoulder. Steve frantically pressed his face into the folds, inhaled deeply enough to lift Eddie up an inch or two, and sneezed forcefully.

“HRRRRSHH’MPH!! TISHHHHH!! HAEEESHHH!! HEH-!! HEYYYESSSHEWWW!!!”

He groaned in the aftermath, head pounding. Eddie was right, this did feel like some kind of super plague. He was sneezing every couple of minutes or so like clockwork, and every fit seemed to wipe him out as if he’d finished running a marathon. He panted into the cloth for a moment longer, feeling his boyfriend clumsily wipe his nose and mouth as best he could from the awkward angle. He nodded, signalling it was ok for Eddie to lower the shirt. He felt the older man squirm slightly, curls brushing against his face as he angled himself back to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“God bless you, Stevie. Such a tickle.”

Steve blushed at the attention, his cock giving an appreciative throb in his jeans. He once again entertained the idea of fucking in the backseat, was about to vocalise this when Eddie hissed in pain, head pushing back and digging into Steve’s shoulder. He could see the grimace on the older man’s face.

“Baby?”

Eddie didn’t answer, riding out what Steve knew to be another round of deep throbs in his skull. Brow furrowed in concern, he stroked an arm gently up and down his boyfriend’s side as the dungeon master strained against him. His erection was flagging, momentarily catching up to the seriousness and decided unsexiness of the situation they were in. The older man finally seemed to relax, a shaky exhale leaving him. Steve nuzzled his face down into his curls.

“Feel so bad, Stevie…gettin’ worse…”

Eddie was panting slightly, the small puffs of exhalation visible in the frigid air.

“I’m sorry, honey.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He could feel his own body starting to ache, head swimming with fever. It’d only been an hour since their car had died, but they’d gotten so much sicker in that time that Steve was starting to worry in earnest. He didn’t think they would die, nothing quite so dramatic as that, but they would need more water soon at the pace they were needily gulping it down, and he was worried about Eddie’s fever. If Robin were there – god, how he wished she was – she’d tell him to worry about himself as well, before rattling off about a billion different contradictory fever reduction techniques. He smiled at the thought of her, his partner in crime, feeling slightly better for picturing her face.

He reached for a bottle of water and took a long drink before offering it to Eddie, forcing him to drink as well. When they were finished, he snuggled down again into his boyfriend’s curls.

“We’ll be okay, Munson. We survived the Upside Down, we can survive rural Indiana.”

~~~~~

Eddie had no idea how long it had been by the time he heard the familiar rumbling of an approaching vehicle through the foggy haze of his fever. He and Steve were in a state of persistent half-consciousness. They would both be right on the brink of sleep when one of them would succumb to a tickle in their nose, shaking them both to full wakefulness. It had gotten progressively less jarring after the fiftieth time; it almost felt routine.

The metalhead could feel Steve’s cock, half-hard, pressing up against him. He ought to be surprised his boyfriend could still feel arousal given their less than stellar circumstances, but then he would absolutely be the proverbial kettle calling the pot black. His own erection would come and go with every fit of sneezes from either himself or his boyfriend, making him feel like a horny middle schooler. He was almost glad he was too sick to be embarrassed about it. Almost.

He had just finished mumbling a blessing to Steve, his boyfriend having sprayed down the front of his coat with a fierce triple, when the unmistakeable crunch of tires on gravel perked him up faster than an espresso shot.

“Steve? Steve! I think there’s a car – no, yeah, there’s a fucking car, man!”

“Holy shit!”

He felt Steve start and attempted to shuffle off him, but found himself flopping helplessly backwards, entirely winded by the effort.

“Ugh, sorry…”

Steve gently rocked him forward and quickly arranged him so that he was sitting up in his seat, before kissing his cheek and scrambling onto the road.

“Be careful-!” Eddie shouted, immediately regretting raising his voice as he doubled over with a hacking cough. He brought the nearby water bottle to his lips with shaking hands and took a generous swig, gasping. He could make out the headlights of a van pulling up behind them, then the rumbles of a conversation. Alongside Steve’s voice, a rougher, deeper voice registered. A man, then. He swallowed the fear that this guy might clock them as a couple of queers – or maybe he was a serial killer? They were screwed either way. He closed his eyes and listened. No shouting, just a gentle back and forth. He heard Steve sneeze, then the other man chuckle. It was a friendly sound. He relaxed a little.

He started slightly at the sound of the door beside him opening, looking up to see Steve leaning over him.

“Hey, Eds. Great news, this guy – Leonard – he’s heading straight to Indianapolis. Before you ask, don’t worry, I saw his ID. He’s delivering deckchairs, or something? Anyway - he’s got some gas for the car, but when I told him we were sick he said we could ride in the back of his truck and he’d tow us the rest of the way.”

Eddie smiled softly, happy to see Steve looking a little more animated, even if he did look like death warmed up. The eye bags he was sporting made his droopy brown eyes look even lazier than usual. It was worrying, but still cute. Steve held out a hand and helped him climb out of the car. He felt shaky on his legs, like a baby deer. Glancing over Steve’s shoulder he spotted a jovial, middle-aged man approaching with a tow rope. He was sporting a flannel shirt over a pendulous beer belly, peaked cap on his head and a huge copper beard engulfing his face. He looked rough, but his eyes were kind and his smile was soothing.

“You must be Eddie!” Leonard said, walking over to them. He frowned a little as he took in the sight of the two of them up close. “Christ, boys, you look just about dead on your feet! Pardon me sayin’.”

Eddie huffed a small laugh.

“No, you’re right. We’ve been…better.”

Leonard smiled at him, looking paternal and endeared. Eddie liked the guy already – he sort of reminded him of Wayne, albeit a much more chipper Wayne.

“Well, don’t you worry. You and Steve just hop on in the back of the ol’ dream machine and I’ll take you far as you need to go. Y’all said you’re heading to Indy?”

“That was the plan.” Steve confirmed, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible.

“Great – like I said, I’m heading straight over there, but if you’d prefer, I know a decent little motel just outside city limits that’ll have some vacancies?”

“That would be great,” Eddie almost moaned, thinking that even the grubbiest motel mattress in the world would be heaven right about now.

“Sure thing, sure thing. Well, we should be there in less than hour, give or take.”

“Um, Leonard? I meant to ask but – where exactly are we?” Steve asked.

“Just outside of Rushville.”

Eddie and Steve gaped. They’d somehow managed to clear straight past Indianapolis altogether and keep on south. Their faces must have successfully conveyed their almost comical shock, as Leonard bellowed out a rumbling laugh.

“You boys really got the short end of the stick today, huh? Come on, get your asses in the truck – I’ll finish up here and we can get on the road.”

“Thank you, Leonard, really – this is – we were really in a rough place-“ Steve started.

“Don’t you worry, now. Go on, get – there are tissues in the back. I get hayfever something fierce come Spring.”

Eddie watched Steve nod before his strong arm was wrapped around his waist, supporting the metalhead as he walked them both to the Truck in question. They had to pause briefly for Eddie to sneeze, a helpless little fit of six partially stifled paroxysms. Leonard offered a cheery blessing from where he was securing their car, and Eddie blushed. It was going to be a long hour.

~~~~

Steve woke up, slowly, pulled out of sleep first by the slow halt of the truck and then the gentle rumble of Leonard’s voice.

“Boys? We’re here. Rise and shine, now.”

Steve blinked open his eyes, taking in Leonard’s kind expression as he leaned back over his shoulder to look at them. The former jock was aware of the weight of Eddie’s head on his shoulder, and with a sudden icy rush of panic moved to gently push him away. It wasn’t that he thought Leonard would do anything to them, per se, but they needed to be careful. Eddie already attracted so much attention, not that Steve would change anything about him for the world – but still.

Eddie groaned and sat up gradually, squashing his fists up against his eyes and moving them in slow circles. Steve noticed that his boyfriend had left a little pool of saliva – or was it snot – where he’d been resting on his shoulder. They’d both fallen asleep within minutes, the blessed heating of Leonard’s dream machine wrapping warmth around them like the plushest of blankets. Steve was relieved, having been prepared for the embarrassing scenario in which he and Eddie sneezed nonstop all over the inside of the poor man’s vehicle for 50 minutes straight. He was already extremely grateful and a little shocked that Leonard had taken in the sight of their painfully obvious illness and let them ride with him in the first place.

“You boys went out like a light. Sure is nice to be young, huh?”

Steve felt Eddie jump beside him, and realised the older man had temporarily forgotten where he was. He patted him on the shoulder before turning back to Leonard.

“I’m so sorry we just passed out on you, sir. We didn’t make for good company at all.”

“Don’t you worry about that, son. You looked like you needed a decent night’s sleep. Speaking of, you should be able to get some more shut-eye at this little establishment. ‘Rita’s Motel’ – sure, it’s not the Ritz, by any means, but she’s served me well.”

Steve unbuckled his seat belt and leaned forward to look past Leonard at the small building in front of them. The motel was like any other, perhaps slightly homelier than most.

“Thank you, Leonard, for everything. I, uh, I really want to pay you back, but – we’re running low on cash, probably just enough for a night here, and-“

“I won’t hear it, Steve. You boys are clearly in a pinch. Not a single penny will I take. Now, come on, let’s get you inside. I’ll fill up the car while you sign in, then I’ll be on my way.”

Steve mumbled his thanks, over and over, feeling and sounding like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. The relief was overwhelming. Leonard slapped a broad palm down on his shoulder and chuckled, assuring him it was nothing. They were interrupted by a sudden burst of sneezes behind them. Steve turned and watched Eddie catch another three exceptionally loud and sickly sounding sneezes in his upraised hands.

“ENGGXXXTCHHH!!! IGXXT’SHIEWW!! Hahh’ENGXT’Tchiewww!!”

Steve’s heart lurched in his chest. He willed his cock to calm down; the last thing he wanted or needed in this very moment was to shield a mighty erection from their kind-hearted saviour. Eddie snuffled, the sound thick and incredibly messy. The older man blushed deeply behind his hands as he noticed both pairs of eyes trained on him – if he hadn’t been fully awake before, he sure was now.

“Good god, bless you!” Leonard exclaimed.

Eddie blushed an even darker shade of red, mumbling his thanks and frantically searching for something to clean himself up with, or perhaps a hole to go die in. Steve reached back beside Eddie and grabbed the almost full box of tissues Leonard had mentioned earlier. Eddie hesitated for a moment, and both Leonard and Steve seemed to realise his situation as he made no move to shift his hands from their steepled position over his face. They turned around to give the metalhead some privacy, Leonard making his way out of the truck and offering Steve a hand down out of the side door, having climbed over the seat to follow him.

“You take those tissues with you,” Leonard directed at Eddie as he opened up the exterior door for him to climb out. “Won’t be needing them for a while, anyways!”

Steve reached out to steady his boyfriend by the elbow, supporting him as he jumped down from the truck on shaky legs. True to his word, Leonard escorted them inside the antiquated reception area and got to talking with the small owlish looking woman behind the desk. Steve quickly realised this was the titular Rita, and that she was just as friendly and parental as the trucker.

“Oh, you poor things!” She cried, taking in the sight of the two of them, shivering pathetically behind Leonard’s great bulk. Both of them blushed to their ears – the attention was nice, but more than a little overwhelming.

Within minutes, Rita had signed them in and handed over the keys to their room. She had given them a discount, the cost far cheaper than Steve had been expecting. He wondered if it had anything to do with the violent triple of sneezes he had pathetically muffled into a balled up tissue as he gave her his details.  Maternal to her core, she had even thrust a bottle of Tylenol and another of cold medicine their way, free of charge from the little supply she kept on hand. It felt like the universe was righting itself for all the bad luck they’d suffered that day, putting such kind and generous people in their path. Eddie tried to offer the left-over money to Leonard when he came back in from topping up their car, but he refused.

“You boys take care, now. You need anything, you go to Rita, okay? You’ll help these kids out, won’t you, old girl?”

“I don’t know this ‘old girl’ you’re referring to, Len, but I will certainly be here if you need me, boys.”

Leonard gently slapped them both on the back before saying his goodbyes, and then Rita was leading them to their room. Eddie and Steve thanked her and closed the door behind her. They wordlessly shucked off their coats, climbed into the double bed, and were asleep in seconds.

~~~~~~

“Hello?”

“Uncle Wayne?”

Wayne paused for a moment, recognising his nephew’s voice but taken aback by how worse for wear he sounded.

“You okay, son? What’re you doin’ callin’ me at 6 in the morning? I thought you’d be out all night at that concert.”

He heard Eddie sigh deeply before the unmistakable sound of him smothering a fit of coughs crackled down the line. Worry spread through his chest, that old paternal panic gripping him.

“Eddie?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Actually, we, um? We didn’t make it. We got lost. And then we ran out of gas. In the middle of nowhere. And we’re both down with the fucking plague. So. I’m at a motel right now, a couple of miles outside of Indianapolis. We stayed here last night.”

Wayne blinked at the sudden overload of information. When he’d registered everything Eddie had told him, he sighed wearily.

“How in the hell did you and Steve manage to pull that off?” He light-heartedly jabbed.

“Ughh, I don’t know. We were fighting, like, all day, Wayne. We’re okay now but it was just awful. And so fucking stupid.”

Wayne sighed again.

“Well, as long as you’re okay. Situations like this are the kind of thing that make or break a couple, so if you’re both doing just fine now, I’d say you have successfully navigated your way to the next stage of your relationship.”

“You think so?”

Wayne smiled. Eddie seemed to have perked right up at that, just as intended.

“I do. Now, what do you need me for, you menace?”

~~~~~~

“HHHR’RRISHHH’IEW!! HRRRSHHCH’UU!! AESSSHHUUU!!!”

“Oh my god, Stevie. Bless you, angel!”

“Mmn. Thank you.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, shivering as he came inside from his trip to the payphone. Rita’s Motel had comfortable mattresses but was alarmingly lacking in working telephones. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his coat, unceremoniously dumping it on the floor, before stripping off the rest of his clothes. He took in the sight of Steve bundled up in bed, looking painfully adorable with his messy hair and little red nose, before climbing in beside him. He nuzzled up to him, rubbing his cold nose up against Steve’s.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“How’re you feeling, big boy?”

“Like shit, still, but better. The cold medicine worked. Headache’s gone.” Steve pressed a small kiss to his lips. “What about you?”

Eddie kissed him back.

“Compared to last night? Waaay better, man.”

Steve furrowed his brow and reach out to press the back of his hand to his boyfriend’s forehead.

“You’re still really warm, but not quite so bad. I was really worried about you, honey.”

Eddie closed his eyes, pushing his thigh between Steve’s legs and bringing the younger man’s hand down from his forehead to clutch it against his chest.

“Worried about you too, baby.”

They lay there for a couple of minutes in comfortable silence before Steve spoke up.

“Did you get through to Wayne?”

“Oh yeah, shit. Sorry. Yeah. He’s coming through with Hopper later. Should get here around mid-day, he thinks.”

Steve blinked at him.

“Hopper’s coming? Why?”

“He said he owed him one. Hopper’ll come down with Wayne, then he’ll drive your car back up while we die a slow, miserable death in the back of Wayne’s car.”

“Oh…”

“Why even call Wayne to come down in the first place if we have a car full of gas, y’know? He just didn’t want us to drive, and towing the car would be a huge pain in the ass.”

“Right. Sorry. Took me a moment.”

Eddie leaned forward and kissed Steve right on the tip of his nose.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re sick.”

Steve’s nose wrinkled up at the teasing touch of Eddie’s lips against the sensitive skin.

“Eddie, Mm’gonna…gonna snee-!”

“Don’t hold back, baby. Let it out for me.”

Steve obeyed, taking in a final gasping breath, chest swelling to capacity, before sneezing unhindered onto his boyfriend’s face.

“HAAARESHHIIIEWW!! AEESHHHUUUU!! GITSCHHH’EWW!! TISSSSCHH’IEWW!!”

Eddie moaned in appreciation at the sensation of spray drenching his features, eyes closing reflexively against the force of it. Steve’s sneezes were already so loud and cock-teasingly desperate on a regular day, but the never-ending tickle his cold had inflicted upon him made them even more powerful. Within moments, Eddie was almost completely hard, the sudden rush of blood to his cock leaving him more than a little dizzy.

“Fuuuck, baby! Such big sneezes. Bless you.”

~~~~

Steve reached for a tissue from the box lying between them – Rita had gifted them with another several alongside Leonard’s gracious offering – and gently wiped the spray from his boyfriend’s face, blushing slightly to see droplets starting to roll their way across Eddie’s cheeks to the pillowcase.

“Damn, those were big!”

“Mmhmm. Just how I like them. You’re so gorgeous when you have a tickle, Stevie.”

Steve reached down between Eddie’s legs, smirking at the gasp the older man choked out as he gave his cock a teasing squeeze.

“You really are feeling better, huh?” He started to pump the length, long, slow strokes that squeezed the head of Eddie’s cock before making their way back down.

“Fuckk, Steve-!”

“Is that good, baby?”

“So good, always so good, holy shit-!”

Eddie bucked involuntarily in his grasp at a particularly hard squeeze to the base of his cock. Steve’s breath stuttered, feeling Eddie’s thigh press up against his own budding erection as his body jerked against him. Moaning, he pressed their foreheads together.

“You wanna get off with me, Munson?”

Eddie laughed breathily.

“Is the pope a catholic?”

“Ugh, don’t make me think about God right now, man.”

“Why? I’m right here.” Eddie grinned at him, looking far too pleased with himself. The cocky expression was somewhat weakened by his miserable complexion and swollen pink nose.

Steve wanted to think of a witty retort, but any thoughts of meeting Eddie with some cleverly formulated response vanished the second he felt his boyfriend’s sweaty palm wrapping around his cock and jerking it with several fast, hard pulls.

“Ohh, yeah,” He moaned, losing himself in the sensation, eyes fluttering shut and teeth biting down on his bottom lip. He was already embarrassingly close. His own hand faltered only temporarily before returning to stroking his boyfriend in earnest. Eddie pushed his thigh up harder between Steve’s legs, and he gasped.

“Mm, you like that, big boy?” Eddie moaned, mouthing at Steve’s lips. Steve closed the space between them and kissed him, both groaning as Eddie sucked hard on Steve’s tongue. They couldn’t keep it up much longer, though, noses far too stuffed up. It didn’t matter; they exchanged small kisses again and again, hands working each other in the ways they knew they liked best.

Steve peered down his nose at Eddie, his boyfriend’s face a rictus of concentrated pleasure, eyelashes fluttering  above blushing cheeks as he panted and moaned. He looked so good like this; Steve felt himself lurch even closer to orgasm. He pictured the older man sneezing messily, an endless fit on loop for him in his mind, even as he stared at Eddie’s nose just at the end of his own. His nostrils would flare every now and then, in pleasure rather than in response to a burgeoning tickle. The subtle movements were such a tease – Steve wanted to watch those poor pink nostrils flare to capacity as Eddie built to a powerful sneezing fit. He cock throbbed against his boyfriend’s fingers.

Mind made up, Steve pushed their noses together and rubbed them back and forth. Eddie glanced down at them, slightly bewildered and looking temporarily cross-eyed. It was so cute – Steve chuckled under his breath, all the while continuing to rub his nose against Eddie’s, hoping to coax a sneeze (or five) out of him. He felt Eddie’s nostrils flaring wildly as he rubbed his nose down the side of the metalhead’s twitching appendage. His own nostrils flared minutely in a sort of sympathy twitch.

“Hh-HH!! Ohh, Stevie, s’gonna make me – make me-!!”

Steve groaned, just about managing to hold back from coming at his boyfriend’s words. He loved that Eddie played up every tickle for his pleasure, knew just what to say to work him all the way up. He nuzzled their noses together, slowly, feeling every tick of Eddie’s nostrils against him as they flared wide. A few more breathy, mewling gasps escaped from the older man before he was pulling back with a frantic urgency.

Steve started to come at the sight of the metalhead poised right on the precipice of losing all control. His eyebrows arched, mouth hanging slack as his nostrils twitched and twitched. He buckled forward at last, aiming each sneeze down between them. Steve’s orgasm engulfed him as he felt his boyfriend’s fit bathe his cock in spray, huge, cold-induced sneezes that he himself had helped to tease out.

“HIDDDTT’SHIEEWWW!! AHDDTT’ZSHIEWW!! EHh-NGXTCH’CHIEWW!! GXXTSH’TZSIEW!!”

A few more desperate, hitching gasps before a final, definitive “EHH’DZZTT’TSCHIEWW!!!” burst out of Eddie, so strong he trembled with it.

The orgasm continued to pulse outwards from his cock and throughout his limbs, the sweetest pleasure, leaving him shaking and moaning the metalhead’s name, coming in heavy spurts into the cage of his fingers.

He wound down from his peak, feeling sleepy all at once but willing himself to stay awake. Eddie was staring at him with a look of such intense desire that Steve’s spent cock pulsed pitifully in response. His grip retightened on Eddie’s cock and he resumed his stroking, desperate to watch his boyfriend fall into an orgasm of his own.

“Bless you, baby, fuckkk. That felt so good. You’re incredible.”

Eddie groaned, sniffling at the slight mess that dripped from his nose after that body-bending fit. He looked up at Steve before raising his hand to his lips and licking at the mess the former jock had left all over his fingers.

“Mm. You taste amazing, Stevie. Not that I can taste all that much right now.” He flashed a cheeky grin at Steve.

Steve grinned back and pulled Eddie closer to him with his free arm, pressing their chests flush together. It made jerking his boyfriend off a little harder, but they both sighed in satisfaction at the skin contact. Steve felt Eddie’s thighs starting to twitch, saw how his face had started to screw up – sure signs of his approaching orgasm. Not to mention the filthy, nonsensical ramblings pouring from his mouth that normally started up when he began to fall to pieces.

Eddie reached up to cup Steve’s cheek with his clean hand, tilting his face towards him.

“Do you have a tickle, baby? Sneeze for me?”

Steve sniffled experimentally. His cold had left him with a near-constant tickle just on the edge of fully culminating. He reached up briefly to rub the tip of his nose in small circles, feeling his breath catch as the tickle started to build anew. He sniffled a few more times for good measure.

“Yeah….oh-hohhh, yeah, definitely gonna…gonna sneeze..!”

“Unnnhh, Stevie!”

As Steve’s eyes started to flutter shut, he took in the sight of his boyfriend frozen right on the edge of orgasm. He was flushed all the way down to his chest, tattoos standing out in stark contrast. He was so damn pretty. Steve gasped, burying his nose in the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Get ready, baby-! It’s coming…gonna sneeze for you...HH-HAH!!”

One more final inhale, chest expanding against Eddie’s, before the tickle crested and he was pitching forward helplessly.

“HAHH’TISSSCHHH’IEWW!! ITSCCHHHIEWW!! HH-H-HUHH!! HUHHRESSHHHOOOhh!!”

Eddie’s strangled moan was loud in his ear as he snuffled against his neck, strong arm wrapped around the older man’s slender waist, feeling him strain and shiver against him. It looked and sounded like a particularly intense orgasm for the metalhead, and Steve felt a sort of pride mingled with affection spreading through his chest. He loved making Eddie feel good. He felt his hard cock jerk in his grasp, painting his fingers and both of their lower stomachs in hot stripes of cum.

Steve was almost asleep as his boyfriend came down from his high, mumbling and giggling as endorphins rushed through his system.

“Ohh, Steve, holy fuck!”

“Mmf.” Steve snuggled closer to Eddie, nestling up to him with the intention to pass the fuck out.

“Stevie. Steve. Not yet, honey. We need to clean up. And put some clothes on before Wayne gets here.”

Steve stubbornly did not budge, even as Eddie’s captured cock softened in his limp grasp.

“Noooo. They won’t be here for hours, anyway…” He nestled further into Eddie, then moaned in displeasure as his boyfriend wriggled free.

“Nuh-uh. Up, now. I don’t trust you to wake up in time. Not after that nut, and with that fever.”

“Ungggg……okay……”

Eddie helped Steve sit up, both of them swooning at the effort. Now that their orgasms had cleared their heads, the discomfort of their sickness was starting to filter through the afterglow. Eddie wiped Steve’s hand clean with a fresh tissue.

“Let’s jump in the shower – just for a couple of minutes, dude, stop whining! We smell like sick people and cum.”

Steve nodded. Eddie may be blunt, but he was right. He squeezed his hand in his own.

“Okay. I really, really love you, by the way. Let’s not fight over stupid shit anymore. Please?”

Eddie kissed him softly before wrapping his arms around Steve’s muscular shoulders.

“Yeah. No more fighting. Love you so much.”

They held each other for a couple more minutes before stumbling to their feet, shaky on their legs en route to the small bathroom and finding it hilarious. Their weekend might not have gone even remotely as planned, but neither of them regretted it, knowing they’d look back on it all one day and remember only the love they felt for each other as the tepid shower water sluiced over their feverish skin.

[beanghostprincess]

would you do platonic ships???? 👀 nami x luffy and nami x sanji. i think luffy and sanji would both be very supportive of nami after she comes out as a lesbian. every time a random guy tries to hit on nami, luffy runs and screams “SHE’S A LESBIAN!!!!” luffy is way too honest but he’s got the spirit

you're asking me literally the best things ever!!! i'm gonna kiss your forehead c'mere--

i'm INSANE for platonic ships. most people don't often pay attention to the beauty of nami's relationship with the guys (especially with sanji and luffy) since they're always being shipped romantically with her. they make me physically unwell. they're so so so important to me. if i could talk about platonic sanami and platonic lunami all the time without it constantly being seen as shippy, believe me, i would be the most annoying person on this site.

btw, i literally choked on my drink while reading what you said about luffy yelling "SHE'S A LESBIAN!!!!!!!!!" because it's so damn real and canon and it's so fucking funny to picture him just- running from one side of the room to the other while yelling that,, he's so protective. maybe too intense about it, but yeah, he's got the spirit!

luffy and nami's relationship is actually really important to me personally because her story and background really resonate with me. i cried so damn much watching arlong park,, not gonna go into detail here, because you all know how important their dynamic and relationship are in canon, but they make me ill. nami spent years without having any friends because she didn't let herself trust others and even less, let herself deserve to have friends. and luffy just appears like a motherfucking ray of sunshine and helps her get out of that toxic and harmful situation she's in. she's herself with the crew. she can be rude and harsh sometimes to keep them in place and yet they still see her as the sweet, fun, caring girl she actually is. she is a thief and a menace and a bit of a bitch (in the BEST sense of the word) and they all know she's always going to be there for them. and she knows they're going to be there for her, too, always. the fact that luffy is always looking after her and protecting her no matter what? the way the first thing that always comes to his mind whenever they're in danger and he has to leave, is to tell either sanji or zoro to look after her for him? it makes me want to curl up and sob. it's not that he thinks she's weak, it's that he knows her fighting style is more to defend herself or others only when needed, and he won't let her be in danger like that. she's the brains, he's the captain. that's HIS navigator. i love the platonic possessiveness of it all. i love them clingy and sappy and holding each other whenever they are sad and always supporting each other. currently, i'm watching wci (everyone knows this because i'm the most annoying sanji fan so ofc i won't shut up) and the fact that she didn't run away when luffy told her so and stayed with him to fight?? the way she stays with him after the fight with sanji???? they are so,,, i just love them so damn much i'm gonna cry. and this is just the example i choose NOW because i'm in a wci mood, but i could talk about them for hours.

i love platonic clingy lunami. i want him to hug her like a koala. i want her to kiss his forehead when he's asking for attention. i want luffy to come to nami when he's feeling bad about something. i want nami to fix the straw hat while he sleeps on her lap. i want them to sleep together and cuddle and-- that scene in punk hazard where she casually feeds him???? that was so cute (this happening while the kids where literally crying makes everything funnier lmao). they understand each other so so well and they're both so protective of each other,,, it's INSANE. it also has to do with the fact that the romance dawn trio will always be at least a tinyyyy bit more personal and intimate than the others, being the first crewmates and all. never forget strong world for giving me so much lunami content. luffy loves her so damn much,,,,,,

she puts luffy in his place whenever he's acting a bit too stupid and he supports her no matter what. i think that's beautiful. because she's always labeled as scary when she gets mad (i mean, understandable) but he still sees her for who she actually is. and it's,,, so,,, so beautiful,,,

and as a lesbian??? i'm not gonna go into detail as to why lesbian nami is important to me because then i wouldn't shut up in ages, but she is so so so so personal to me. and luffy would be so damn supportive of her it makes me cry. in fact, i love the headcanon of the monster trio being all protective when it comes to men flirting with her. because she might know how to handle men to get what she wants, but sometimes guys just fucking suck and they will try to have their way with nami,,, and uhhhh that dude will probably end up dead. don't flirt with nami if you're a boy because you'll probably most definitely die in the hands of these three protective boys.

besides, there's nothing more personal and intimate than the friendship between an aroace and a lesbian. mutual 0 attraction to men, and full room to act clingy without it having to mean anything. i love them to death.

and yeah,,,,, sanami. platonic sanami. don't get me started on platonic sanami, i might actually die before being able to finish writing this whole thing.

i just,,, they make me,,, they make me so happy,,, i,,, cuteness and happiness overload,,,

i hate that i can't talk about them without people thinking it's romantic. I DON'T WANT THEM ROMANTICALLY I WANT THEM TO BE CLINGY AND SUPPORTIVE OF EACH OTHER IN A VERY PLATONIC HOMOSEXUAL WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

there's nothing more powerful than a lesbian and her golden retriever simp who's also a wet cat and would do anything for her. and oh! turns out the guy is actually very very genderfluid and bisexual and has so much trauma regarding gender and sexuality comprehension that she needs to help him get out of that mindset.

tl;tr: sanji bi trans is so repressed he needs a lesbian to help him.

the vinsmokes fucked up his mindset so much and tbh zeff's views on masculinity (love him tho, he's a great dad) didn't help either. but it's fine because nami is there to help him!!!! her!!!! them!!!! any pronouns sanji, woo-hoo!!!! ivankov would be proud. (projecting my genderfluid lesbian ass in this whole thing lmao)

anyway, the thing with platonic sanami is that i think they're perfect for each other. he simps for her but not only because she's pretty, but because everything nami is. he's constantly talking about her brains and strategies and he knows how fucked up her life has been and how strong she is. he admires her so so much,,, and tbh in my mind, where transfem genderfluid sanji is a thing, they admire her bc that's exactly how they want to be (using all pronouns here for her bc why not, c'mon). and nami might be a bit uhhh tired of sanji's behavior, but she loves him nevertheless. she went through so much during wci, watching sanji fighting with luffy and having to witness it??? when she slaps him in the face and doesn't use 'sanji-kun' like she always does?? it killed me. it hurt worse than a fucking breakup. and then she tells him that she won't let him go away again, and,,, it broke me. she cares so so much for him. she knows he's had a very fucked up life too. they make me go insane. he respects nami and cares about her opinion the most, and i'm tired of people always seeing their relationship as "funny simping guy x mean girl" NO!!!! SHUT UP!!! THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS AND THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO SO MUCH!!! THEY DESERVE TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER!!!!

forever thinking about how the code for the fridge is nami, robin and sanji's birthdays combined. they literally just- sat together and thought about a code. and they're the only ones who know this. it's so cute,,,

he respects and admires nami, and nami understands why he acts the way he does. and it's,,, so beautiful,,

i think that once she's helped him figure out his identity, they'd be even closer. i'm a sucker for clingy platonic relationships, as you can see, and them finally being able to be clingy would make me so happy. i enjoy sanami fanarts and content only bc i see them like that. they're so real. lesbian/trans bi solidarity.

also, we talk a lot about usopp and nami being gossiping besties, but i think nami and sanji would be the same. they judge you from the other side of the bar. they talk shit about you. be scared of the judgemental gays.

thriller bark. whole cake. skypiea. they have so many moments there,,, they make me so happy. whenever sanji saves her or whenever he's worried sick about her? i die. people die. it's me i'm people and platonic sanami kills me every time.

and you haven't asked me about these but shout out to usopp and zoro also being nami's protective besties. they all love her to death. don't hurt nami, you'll probably die.

[maircries]

Mair’s Episode Forty One Relisten:

Really loud pinball machines my beloved

You can hear her strained smile

Memoria 😭😭😭

There’s something to be said about the fact that the crew starts glitching after Hera is reminded that she wasn’t there, but I don’t know how to say it so just cry over it with me

Absolutely criminal Alana and Doug didn’t get to nerd reference with each other

God this episode is fucking painful

God early days crew with Hera is so horrible to hear, so heartbreaking

Fucking especially Doug. The whole assholery of him. They’re relationship. I hate it here.

Sorry I know this is Heras tragic episode but god damn I’m still going insane over Doug. Anyone got any non-shippy Doug whumps they can recommend me?

God it’s Alana’s willingness to just.,..,. To rewrite memories. Rewrite whatever it takes. That’s what makes her so terrifying. Why I wanted to get to know her better, see her rise to redemption with Jacobi.

The deleted scene speech..,., I’m fucking unwell

I forgot we relive the count to ten scene. It’s fucking awful

“This is my life and you don’t get to rewrite it to fit what you need. I’d rather go as me” I am SCREAMING. I am CRYING. I am THROWING UP.

“I can’t do this. I’m not good enough” hold up oh my god I can’t she says it bEFORE they find it

Memoria would be an INVREDIBE episode to watch visually

Pryce is truly the most villainous villain

ITS A DELETED SCENE. YOU PUT IT BACK IN AND YOURE WATCHING A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MOVIE.

The music for this episode is so fucking beautiful

When I say this episode makes me fucking cry yall

Jacobi loves Alana so fucking much

[kit-williams]

"Oh boy, Kit posted a new story, I can't wait to read it-"

"Why do I have so many tears?"

No, but seriously, you have systematically increased my love for Peter Turbo with every story you post (respectfully, I am going insane). I am so excited for him to find Penelope, bro is going to be so unwell about it.

Screaming, Crying, Throwing Up,

Tired College Anon

Listen when I do angst I don't pull punches

As much as I love Konrad, Angron, and Magnus... there is just something about Perturabo that just makes me love him and I think with me understanding his character enough (both pre ascension and post) ((I need to read more books with him)) just makes him a good character for me to play with. (((If anyone has consumed more Iron Warrior/Peter Turbo stuff please let me know if I'm butchering him)))

Well I just finished writing up the next story for the Iron Warrior Legion Mother story; I just need to transfer it to PC... but yes Perturabo is going to be so unwell about his wife and child being alive.

[sophierequests]

hey! congrats on 500 <33 could i get a 🌷 not the ghost for this james potter fic? or for this neil perry one?

i don't mind either way ahah :)

reading + reacting to other writers' fics // james potter and neil perry

thank you so much <333

you cannot make me choose between my two golden boys, i refuse. i wanted to read both, but the second link didn't work :( (maybe it's just my wifi acting up again, so don't worry. but i went to your profile and picked your last neil perry fic, and chose that, i hope that's okay <3

those summer nights - james potter

live reaction:

james is the prettiest boy send tweet

oh to spend a summer with prongs

now i want to know what niche records sirius listens to

is that a friends to lovers plot i see

oh no 

lily, i love you

but oh no

maybe more pain than i expected

the day?? oh?

the most ruthless rejection hrfdjffjtf help

the nicknames i am going insane

phone calls <3

hanging up the phone now ljghdslhg

dorleneeeeeeeee yes yes yes

fjdddftdgk i am unwell

he's so sweet, i love him

screaming

my favourite lines:

james potter looks like springtime - eyes dark brown and frowning up at you. skin crinkling at the corner of his lips every time he opens his mouth to speak. 

he’s the kind of boy who makes the august sun bearable. 

the kind of boy people write songs about. 

→ yes.

‘the day’ was the hypothetical moment in which lily was supposed to drop to her knees and confess her undying love to him. he kept talking about ‘the day’ as if his life depended on it. to you - despite your efforts - it felt a little like armaggedon.

on the last day of school, james had asked lily out. in hogsmeade over a pint of butterbeer. and it was the most ruthless rejection you’d ever had the misfortune to witness.

→ oh god

on a whim, you tell him that you love him before you hang up the phone. 

→ crying

james potter, lost for words? a rare occasion. 

→ helpppp

final review:

friends to lovers with james potter is literally the best trope, i loved it so much <333

god, i never felt young - neil perry

live reaction:

can i just say that the header picture is super pretty??

okay back to the fic

neil <333

he is the best boy

neil perry comfort is my lifeline

oh to hug him

winter depression

a mood

and he is down bad

i giggled

god i love him

he is baby girl actually

my favourite lines:

but neil is sunshine. neil is going to be alright.

-> our sunshine boy

neil perry - so beautiful he looks, at your eyeline, so infinite he feels when he's next to you.

-> that's just such a pretty line, i loved it

he is the sun, & with you, he is star struck.

-> crying

febuary is a precipice - jump off and then there is spring, soft and ready to launch into. but sometimes it's nice and safe and easy to stay on familiar ground.

-> mood

so he holds you for a while, easing you into the world.

-> hit 'em where it hurts

and he is down bad. such a pretty nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach, summer smile spreading up his face as he watches your reaction - your laughs and smirks at all his proudest stories, your wide eyes leaving him almost lost for words.

-> simp simp simp

he doesn't know what he'll do either, truth be told. that's something he's trying to figure out - secretly hoping he can spend enough evenings with you to last a lifetime.

-> i'm dhjldgsdhgsljh

final review:

this is just so soft dshldksaglsdh i loved it!! now i want to be comforted by neil perry ngl

→ to my event post!

[starkskypines]

Worst Day Ever (1x04)

oh Buck you really can’t ignore a challenge can you

oh shit Bobby

Buck do not read the book. Nosey little idiot.

oh my gosh a plane rescue damn this is intense and the way they had to keep moving past the other dead they couldn’t help

oh Athena you’re stalking a child pls stop you’re going Mama Bear and i love it but honey no

Athena honey this is not the way to handle things

I think this show does a great job of putting you in the situation with the characters

Buck almost got his ass wrecked holy shit but also kinda genius of him. he’s great at thinking on his feet

“If you go down, I’m going go down.” 😭😭 Bobby ilysm this scene is making me so emotional he’s a hero he’s a hero

“I know I know I’m a terrible listener.” BUCK DIDNT LEAVE HIM OH MY GOSH THATS FAMILY RIGHT THERE

OH NOOOOOO OH NO NO NO NO

the music!?!?!!!!! I’m gonna cry 😭

the absolute terror in everyone’s voices like damnnnnnnn the acting is so good

oh oh Bobby 😭

HELL YEAH ATHENA YOU TELL HIM

Abby literally heard this man’s last words god the impact of that I’m sobbing

“I don’t think I have enough tears for all of them.” -Bobby AND IF I SCREAM AND CRY AND THROW UP THEN WHAT

wait wait wait is he alone!?!?! oh shit oh my god he’s alone

oh no not the Annie hearing her lover's last words THIS SHOW IS KILLING ME

Oh damn Hen and Buck having to come to Bobby’s place

Hen and Bobby have spare keys 🥺 why is that the saddest and most trusting thing

oh Bobby

“Who were you cooking dinner for?” FUCK FUCK FUCK IM SO UNWELL THIS MAN HES HURTING SO MUCH

Bobby trying to make it a joke and then breaking down my man my man oh my gosh and then Hen and Buck comforting him that’s found family that’s found family

OH NO ABBYS MOM GIRL NO NO NO

this show needs to chill there’s too much heartbreak and I’m losing it

there's something so insane about this found family because they literally love and care about each other so much and that is a thing i love to see and it's making me insane and very emotional.

[eoieopda]

OHHHHH MMMMMMMY GOD ‼️

the way that you turned my silly lil drabble request into nearly 17k words of — of — this ?????????

god

GOD

i’m unzipped. unwell.

A hearing your laugh makes me laugh even if I didn’t hear the joke kind of thing. — this makes me so lovesick i want to barf.

NOT MINGYU IN THE BACKSEAT omfg i’m howling. save him!!!!

“Who invited the Capricorn?” Soonyoung (the person who invited the Capricorn) grouses. — he has great taste ♑️

the way he’s playfully cocky, something ironic in the way he displays it, like you’re all in on the joke and he’s happily his own punchline. — i am simultaneously screaming, crying, throwing up, and sliding down a wall, so thanks!

Meddler. Pain in the ass. Angel. Light of your life. She contains multitudes. — i am once again cackling. what a perfect representation of friendship, lol.

AISH LEE CHAN

Chan is wearing Mingyu’s dumb-ass sunglasses and is clearly in the middle of an old-man bit — PI CHEOLIN??? more like BEACHOLIN am i right ladies

SO I GRABBED YOU ONE OF MINE 😭

bro not the mutual cuddle — i’ll scream

He gives you a flat, unamused look that he definitely picked up from Seungkwan or Vernon — DON’T 😩😩😩

I WAS VERY SERIOUS WHEN I SAID I’LL SCREAM

GODDAMN RUBY INDEED

COINCIDENTALLY, I TOO AM UNDONE BY THE HANDHOLDING!!!!!!!!!

HOW DARE YOU SAY HE FUCKS LIKE HE MOVES????? DON’T YOU KNOW I’M SICK IN THE HEAD

NOT SO LOUD 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

not so loud 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

bro, i need to go lay down. this was too much for ol’ jade. thank you for this but also go to hell for making me insane

Not So Loud || LC

banner by @itaeewon <3

Not So Loud lee chan x afab reader || fluff smut baby angst || f2l, only one bed trope NSFW - minors DNI

Summary: You've been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years, despite his rejection seven months ago. When you're impossibly coupled up on a friendcation, you're determined not to make it everyone else's problem. Of course, you weren't expecting to have to room with him, and you certainly weren't expecting only one bed...

wc: 16.6k

warnings: language, recreational drinking, sooo much pining, baby misunderstandings, kissing, breast play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), piv sex (no protection mentioned either way), reader on top, mentions of shower sex

request by @eoieopda:

yes my fearless leader you may have even two crumbs of lee dino getting laid at the beach, i hope you enjoy every single second of it <3

“This,” you sigh blissfully, “is the happiest I may ever be.”

The sun is shining. Upbeat pop music runs like an undercurrent below the sound of the highway from the stereo of your best friend’s junky, decade-old sedan. Your iced coffee - light and sweet, but not too much of either - tastes like heaven. And the best part, the part that makes this day the best even if you didn’t have iced coffee or sunshine or Ruby or happy music, is that you’re less than an hour away from the beachfront house you and your friends have rented for the next five days.

All six of you had collectively been saving up for a full year and a half to make this happen, and there were times during the wait when it seemed like it would never come together between scheduling and money and rental availability. But now you’re here, racing down the highway to keep up with the flow of traffic, the ocean beckoning you closer.

“Now, now,” Ruby, the aforementioned best friend, scolds lightly. “What about your wedding day?”

You blow a raspberry. “What wedding day?” you shoot back sourly, but then you take another sip of caffeinated, iced perfection and your mood buoys immediately. It’s gonna take a lot to keep you down, today. Still, you rationalize, “I can’t even get to a third date.”

It was true. Your last third date had been almost two years ago. Since then, everything fizzled after one or two. Embarrassing. Something only Ruby - and, by proxy, her boyfriend Mingyu - would know about you.

“Because you compare them all to Chan,” Ruby says sagely.

The beams of sunlight are glaring. The pop music grates on your nerves, too boppy and much too happy. You set your coffee in the cup holder, your hand suddenly smarting from the bite of cold.

Coincidental to the third date thing, you’ve been in love with Lee Chan for almost two years. Another embarrassing Ruby-and-thus-Mingyu-only tidbit.

“Stooo-ooppp,” you whine. “If you’re going to spend the whole time making it weird about him, I’m going to find a way back home! I will walk there, just try me!”

“Now, now,” she says again, mildly. Your dramatics are nothing new to her. “I’ll behave. But I keep telling you - it would be significantly less weird if you’d just tell him you have a thing for him.”

You narrow your eyes at her. A thing.

An every problem I’ve ever had melts away and my soul floats three feet above my body every time your smile crosses your face kind of thing. A hearing your laugh makes me laugh even if I didn’t hear the joke kind of thing. A finding your gaze across a loud room makes me feel like no one else is there but us kind of thing.

A he doesn’t feel the same way, and he never will kind of thing. He made that super clear, about seven months ago.

And it gets worse.

You’ve had a week to accept your fate on this trip - a week since she’d called to tell you that the original rental had fallen through. To tell you that the replacement place is almost better (closer to the beach! a huge deck! a private pool!) except for the number of rooms. That since the other four people attending are made up of two couples, you and Chan would have to share a room.

(“The rooms are huge,” she’d assured you. “And the third room’s got bunk-beds! I bet will Chan will let you have top bunk if you want it - he’s a nice guy.”

You didn’t say, even though it is very true, that bunk-beds are really only a selling point if you are ten years old. But there were more important arguments to make. “I know he’s a nice guy,” you’d bit out. “He’s the nicest fucking guy I’ve ever met in my life, actually!” Hence the thing.

She’d paused and then pointed out, “You’ve met Seokmin, though.”

And, yeah, maybe on paper Seokmin is nicer but looking at his smile doesn’t feel like being filled with sunshine, so the point is moot.)

Anyway. You’ve had time to accept the fact that you have to share a room with the guy you’ve been in love with for over a year and a half. You’ve had time to accept that he might hear you snore, will see that you’re messy, that you’ll have to get changed in the bathroom for the whole trip, that you’ll have to get really good at pretending not to moon over him every time he speaks.

“I think,” you tell Ruby mildly, “that telling him that I want to lick his body from top to bottom and then get married might actually make things more weird.”

“I would just like to say,” Ruby’s boyfriend Mingyu pipes up from the backseat, his voice weary and long-suffering, “that this is an incredibly uncomfortable conversation for me.”

In your defense, you’d thought he was asleep.

Ruby descends on him like a swarm of locusts. “Don’t you think she should tell him she’s in love with him?”

“I actually do,” Mingyu says, covering his eyes with his hands as if he can’t bear to see what a disaster you are. “But I would heavily advise against mentioning the licking. Or the marriage.”

“It’s hyperbole,” you defend, flapping a hand in his direction. But, yeah, noted.

Excitement bubbles in your stomach, despite the rooming situation, when Ruby flicks on her turn signal and moves to exit the highway. Already, the smell of the air through the open windows has turned salty, and the thick tree-line along the highway has given way to cloudless blue sky and the occasional palm tree. It had been almost hazy when you’d set off at the crack of dawn (Mingyu had taken the back seat so he could stretch out and sleep a little longer) but now the sunrise has burned away all of that haze and given way to a perfect morning.

It takes only minutes for Ruby to navigate through the small, coastal town and to a row of vacation homes. You lose yourself in a daydream of waking up to take coffee on a sunlit balcony, listening to waves crash in time below you. In your daydream, across the balcony someone stretches their arms above their head, a sliver of belly peeking out for only a second, then turns to give you a sleepy smile, thinly-wired glasses perched on his nose.

Someone.

You shake yourself free of the fantasy; part of you feels like Ruby can read your mind, like she’s seconds away from calling you out for placing Chan in your seaside fantasy life.

Ruby, however, is too focused on finding the house to read your mind, and she slows the car and turns into a driveway, chirping, “We’re here!”

You all start grabbing luggage to carry in; the sun feels amazing on your skin, the sea breeze cool almost to the point of chilly and so salty it makes your nose twitch. You three aren’t even done emptying your car when you’re startled by a beep-beep-beepbeep-beep from the road behind you.

“That’s Soonyoung,” Mingyu says without even turning to look.

He’s right - it is. The second car, which carries Soonyoung, his girlfriend Lara, and Chan, pulls into the driveway next to you.

Chan greets you with a wide, happy grin (that, yes, makes you feel full of sunshine, whatever) and a quick, one-armed hug as he comes around the front of the parked car. Your moronic heart lifts, stupidly hopeful - until Soonyoung does the same thing. Your heart deflates again with the reminder that they’re just like this - nice, affectionate with their friends. It doesn’t mean anything. Chan’s attention to you is just as platonic as Soonyoung’s - which is to say, entirely.

You all manage to gather the luggage from both cars, and Mingyu follows the rental app’s directions to work the keypad at the front door. You all ooh and ahh as you step inside - the place is roomy, well-lit from sliding glass doors and windows that face the ocean, and decorated with (what else?) a kitschy, nautical theme.

You kick off your flip-flops onto a mat with an anchor on it (per the theme), and follow the others further into the house.

You head straight back through the house - the living room gives way into a dining room that ends with the sliding-glass doors. In tandem with Ruby, you press your face to the glass of the door and peer outside. You’re delighted to see that the ocean is right there, beckoning you to come play. Gulls swoop and call, loud enough that you can hear their cries from inside. Further down the beach you can see colorful umbrellas and tents that other beachgoers have set up. Below the deck, you can see just a strip of the private pool.

You pull yourself away from the back door and head into the adjoining kitchen, where Lara is standing at an open cupboard, examining its contents.

“We’re going to need to do a grocery run,” she muses, looking over at you. “I think all Soonyoung packed was ramen and soju.”

“What else could we possibly need?” he jokes from down the hall, his voice echoing.

“Coffee,” you say immediately.

“Beer,” Mingyu says seriously.

“Meat? Vegetables? Stuff for breakfast? Something to drink that isn’t alcohol?” Lara suggests.

“Who invited the Capricorn?” Soonyoung (the person who invited the Capricorn) grouses.

“Without me,” she tells him seriously, though the corner of her mouth twitches, “you’d be malnourished at best, and at worst? Dead.”

“Probably true,” you say, giving her a conspiratorial nod, and then you hear Ruby call your name from upstairs. Her voice sounds strained, and a little alarm bell goes off inside your head.

“Yes?” you answer loudly, hoping your voice will carry up to her.

“Can you come up here for a minute?” she calls down to you. Yes, there is definitely an edge to her voice that you don’t like. “Now?”

“Oh jeez,” you mutter, starting to make your way towards the stairs at the front of the house. You take the stairs quickly, calling Ruby’s name as you navigate the unfamiliar house.

She and Chan are both standing in the hallway, open doors all around them. Their faces mirror each other - disbelief, anxiety.

“What?” you ask, a little breathless both from the stairs and from anticipation. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s, uh,” Ruby stammers. It’s very unlike her to lose her confidence, and the unease in your gut churns again.

“What?” you say again, and when she doesn’t answer, you turn to Chan, who looks stricken. “What is it?”

“No bunk beds,” he manages, finishing Ruby’s sentence and gesturing to the room behind him.

You’re pressing forward without making the decision to move, without answering either of them, crowding Chan’s space so you’re chest to chest, peering over his shoulder. His hands hover near your elbows, like you might overbalance and he’s ready to steady you.

The room behind him is huge - as Ruby promised - complete with an ensuite bathroom and the balcony straight out of your daydream in the car. It also, as Chan pointed out, does not have bunk-beds. Instead, one king-sized bed is centered against the far wall, flanked by wicker nightstands with lamps on each and an old-school radio alarm clock on one.

You say nothing - you just back out of Chan’s personal space and swivel, heading for the other doors. Surely that was just the wrong room - one meant for one of the couples. Surely they just didn’t look hard enough, didn’t check the other doors, didn’t find the room with two beds that you’d been promised.

You find a full bathroom, a linen closet, one door that remains locked, and - to your dismay - two identical bedrooms, neither of which hosts more than one single bed.

Realization trickles through you slowly, building up higher and higher as you check the doors a second, and then a third, time. Ruby and Chan stay frozen in place in the dimly lit hallway, watching your frantic, pointless searching.

“Oh, my God,” you say hollowly. Then, turning, you narrow your eyes. “Ruby,” you growl. “You promised. Where is my top bunk?!”

“I don’t know!” she squeaks. “The listing said four beds!”

“Call them,” you demand flatly.

Beside Ruby, Chan’s eyebrows scrunch as he frowns. He says your name quietly, holding up a hand as if to calm you. “We don’t need to move houses,” he says gently. “I’ll take a couch. It’s not a big deal.”

You feel yourself shaking your head immediately. “I will feel like shit if you spend your vacation sleeping on the couch because of me,” you tell him.

He and Ruby exchange a long look (something that you don’t like very much, but no one is asking you) and then she tentatively says, “Could we work it out later? Maybe one of the couches pulls out into a bed or something? Or do you really want me to try and get us a different rental? This is already our second one, I’m not sure there are even other options still available…” She trails off, eyes wide.

You sigh, eyeing the ceiling above you as if it has answers. “Fine,” you say, because you can’t stand the thought of being the one who’s causing problems, ever the people-pleaser. “We’ll figure it out later.”

You head back down the hall, tromping down the stairs in silence to get your luggage.

Chan tries to take one of your bags for you, but you shrug him off and he lets you. You follow him back up the stairs, to the large room you’d looked at a few minutes ago. You both stand in the middle of it, looking around. You’re unsure if you should even unpack in here if there’s a chance you’ll end up moving to the couches.

“It’ll be okay,” Chan says, and it startles you out of your thoughts so badly that you flinch.

“Mhm,” you manage, because you don’t want to lie to him by agreeing.

“Hey,” he says, a little insistently, and you look up at him. He’s looking at you openly, his expression an impossible mix of concern and optimism. It disarms you immediately, in a way nothing else ever has.

There’s something always so earnest about Chan, one of your favorite things about him, and you can’t help but believe him when he continues to speak. “It will. We can, like, take turns with the bed or something. It’s not that big of a deal. Don’t let this ruin your trip. Okay?”

You nod silently, thinking about this. He’s right - there’ll be a solution. “Okay,” you say, managing to give him a little smile. “You’re right.”

The grin he gives you is mischievous. “I usually am,” he quips - and you love that about him, too: the way he’s playfully cocky, something ironic in the way he displays it, like you’re all in on the joke and he’s happily his own punchline. He disappears into the hallway, where you hear him heading down the stairs.

You wait for the tornado of butterflies in your belly to calm back down and then you look around the room. You finally decide to just leave your bags in a pile near the dresser, and head back down to find the others.

Everyone is standing around the kitchen table, where it seems like a grocery list is being split into Things That Can versus Things That Cannot be bought at the local liquor store.

“We can take one car and handle the drinks,” Mingyu is saying as you walk up and lean your chin on Ruby’s shoulder from behind. She absently reaches up to give your head an affectionate pat as you both listen. “Then the grocery team can take the second car, and whoever is handling the rental office can just walk.”

“Rental office?” you ask. “What for?”

“Just to grab our passes for the beach,” Lara answers you. “They’re like little tags. It’s part of what we paid for.”

“The rental’s under your name,” Soonyoung reminds her, “so we should probably handle that.”

“Yah, you just want the easy task,” Mingyu complains.

Soonyoung grins, guilty as charged not at all sorry about it. He grabs for Lara’s hand and heads for the front door. “If we aren’t here when you get back, we’ll leave your passes on the table!” he calls, and then the door slams shut.

“Asshole,” Mingyu grumbles affectionately.

The four of you look at each other in the resulting quiet. Then, Ruby asks, “Anything you want to add to our list?”

You lean further around her to read her phone screen, scanning what drinks had already been requested.

“Nope,” you tell her. “I’m good with that. Does this mean I’m on the grocery team?”

Chan looks up from his phone when you ask this, waiting to hear the answer.

Ruby and Mingyu meet gazes, seeming to have a silent conversation. Then, she gives you a sheepish look, almost a grimace. “Yeah - sorry, but I kind of wanted to go with Gyu on the drinks run, if that’s okay?”

You’ve been best friends with Ruby for a long time. You know her in and out, and you know this: she’s not like this, not sweet and apologetic. If it was just you two, she’d just say what she wanted. The act is for a reason.

You blink at her, trying to figure it out. “Of course it’s okay,” you say slowly. “If you and Mingyu are handling the drink run, then I’ll handle groceries with Chan.”

Ah. That was Ruby’s game - she paired you with Chan on purpose.

Meddler. Pain in the ass. Angel. Light of your life. She contains multitudes.

His eyes drop back to his phone. “You don’t have to,” he says, not looking at you. “If you want to go with them or catch up with Lara then I can handle it by myself.”

You frown. “It’s not really a one person job,” you observe. “And I don’t mind - really.”

“So it’s decided!” Ruby says brightly, moving to rest her hand on her boyfriend’s forearm. “We should beat you back, but we’ll wait for you guys so we can help unload the car.”

“Thanks,” you say, meaning it. For everything.

Ruby and Mingyu head out, and you meander closer to Chan. You’re not alone together very often - you’re pretty much always in a group setting.

You’d met through Ruby and Mingyu, years ago. You and Ruby were a very packaged deal, and Mingyu had a crew of friends that filtered in and out of your social events like they kept a scheduled rotation. When Soonyoung had settled into a serious relationship with Lara, the two of them became pretty permanent fixtures with Ruby and Mingyu, and Chan usually went where Soonyoung did. So then you were six.

How perfectly even. How serendipitous. How nearly fated.

If only he saw it that way.

But he doesn’t, he’s made that clear. It was Lara’s fault, actually. That night is burned into your brain, an unpleasant memory custom-made to slither into your brain when you’re trying to sleep before a big day.

The six of you had been bar-hopping on a Saturday night about seven months ago. It had been cool - late autumn teasing winter, and you’d been shivering as the six of you rowdily made your way up the block to your next stop. Laughing at something Soonyoung had said, Chan had reached around your shoulders sloppily, pulling you tight against him.

“Cold?” he’d asked you, as you tried to keep walking - a challenge because of both the alcohol in your system and the alarm bells going off in your head over his hand on your arm.

“Definitely chilly,” you’d managed to reply, looking up at him sideways. His profile was sharper than you’d realized before, and it sent a wave down your core, sinking like a weight through your stomach and into your lower belly and he grinned down at you.

You never wanted him to let go. Never, for the rest of your lives.

“You two are cute,” Lara had said drunkenly, the words a little slurred, as she leaned heavily on Soonyoung. You’d flushed, a little embarrassed, but Chan’s reaction had mortified you. His eyes had widened and he’d gone so far as to retract his arm from around you as quick as lightning, moving sideways to put inches between you again.

It left you frozen, a block of ice.

“No - we’re - we’re only friends,” he had said emphatically, and Lara had apologized, her hand over her mouth. Then, Ruby had tripped on the sidewalk and ripped the knees of her jeans, and the whole incident was forgotten.

Not by you, though. Never by you. This was the moment that floated up like the ghost of Christmas past whenever Ruby urged you to confess to Chan, which was more frequent than you’d like. The rush of cold in the absence of his arm, the way he’d stuttered in his hurry to refute the misunderstanding.

Message received, Lee Chan. Loud and fucking clear.

Didn’t change a thing about how you feel, though.

Presently, you try to push this out of your head - the fact that there’s no social buffer between you, no Ruby or Soonyoung to hide behind - before it can trip you up. “What’s on the list?” you ask. He hands you his phone, lets you scroll through everything he’d typed up.

“Okay,” you say, handing it back. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Yeah,” he says, a little absently, then starts patting at his pockets, eyes scanning the tabletop. “Yeah, I’m ready. Aish, Lee Chan, where did you put the keys?”

“They’re by the door,” you offer, remembering the small table you’d all dropped them on as you came in.

He shoots you a grateful smile. “Thanks. Let’s go?”

You nod, grabbing your sunglasses from the table and following him to the driveway out front.

It’s less than ten minutes to the nearest grocery, not even enough time for three whole songs to play through the car’s stereo, half-drowned by the roar of wind and sea through the open windows. Chan grins sideways at you as he parks, running a hand through his messy hair before unbuckling and stepping out of the car. You shake yourself from your daze and hurry to follow.

“What’s the game plan?” you ask, as you step out of the summer sun and into the fluorescents and air conditioning. Your skin prickles instantly upon the change. “Divide and conquer?”

He pulls out his phone and brings the list up. “I’d rather just stick together,” he says, looking at you sideways, his voice a bit thin - like he’s nervous you’ll reject the plan. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course,” you say, shrugging easily.. “I’m just following you. I’m the assistant. You’re in charge.”

Something flashes across his face - a shooting star of an expression, gone before you’re sure you saw it - and then he’s pushing the cart into the produce section, calling over his shoulder for you to go grab some peaches.

You wind your way together through the store. Each time he stops the cart, you each dart after something else from the nearby shelves then reconvene to look at the list again, shoulders pressed together as you squint at the small font.

It thrills you each time that he doesn’t pull away, each time that he doesn’t hurry to put space between you again as he had back in November.

Don’t make it weird, you beg yourself as you load a few cases of soda into the cart. Keep it in check.

A few rows over, the cart a third of the way full, you pause at a row of sauces. You step back, scanning the labels, then drop into a crouch to read those on the bottom shelf. Chan drops beside you, his knee gently bumping yours as he reaches for one of the jars, bringing it closer to scan the label.

“This one’s my favorite,” he says, and there’s something low in his voice that makes you look over at him. Your fingers overlap his for a second as you take the jar from him, turning it over so you can see which one it is. The moment feels staticky, charged with something.

You chicken out, shuffle back on your heels so your knees no longer touch. “It is a good one,” you agree, putting it back in his hand and pressing your palms to your knees as you rise again. “Get a few - I think Ruby likes that one too.”

He nods, looking away again, dutifully reaching to grab a second jar. You move on to the next aisle in silence. You almost feel like his energy seems… disappointed. But that wouldn’t make sense at all.

Turning the corner to the first row of freezers, you feel your body react instantly to the cold and you immediately fold in around yourself, goosebumps rising up your arms.

“Oh, it’s cold,” you complain. “Let’s hurry. Please.”

Chan doesn’t respond, but you can feel his eyes sweep over you, heavy, before he starts pushing the cart past you at, yes, a quicker speed. You shiver once, violently, before you hurry after him.

When you’re done, stepping outside into the sunlight feels like being released - like leaving school on the last day before summer break, like leaving work before a vacation, like stepping outside for the first time after rain has kept you inside for days on end. You let it warm you, happy, as you help Chan load the bags into the car.

You drive the few minutes back to the house in silence. As Chan makes the last turn, you wonder out loud, “Do you think Ruby and Mingyu finished before us?”

“Definitely,” Chan says, and he’s right - as the house comes into view, you can see that the second car is already parked.

True to their word, Ruby and Mingyu greet you at the door to help carry everything in and put it away.

“Lara grabbed us a spot down on the beach,” Ruby informs you, as you both stand at the back of the car, scanning for the lighter bags. “As soon as we’re ready we can head down.”

You let out a happy sigh. “I think an afternoon at the beach will cure me.”

“Nothing will cure you,” she deadpans, then literally stops mid-stride to correct herself. “Actually, something could. And it’s here, and available, and sharing your room.”

“I hate you a lot!” you tell her brightly, pushing past her with an armful of groceries and heading into the relative dark of the house, praying Chan hadn’t overheard her bullshit.

You hurry through the rest - getting the groceries away, getting changed for the beach, throwing the things you need to bring into a tote. Downstairs, the others wait for you by the back door. Chan is wearing Mingyu’s dumb-ass sunglasses and is clearly in the middle of an old-man bit, his voice reedy and sarcastic. Ruby cackles as Mingyu shoves Chan’s shoulder playfully, reaching to get his eyewear back. You can’t help the wave of affection you feel for them, your goofy friends.

You all step out into the sand, eyes adjusting to the sun. You follow Mingyu’s shadow on the ground as he makes his way towards the spot Soonyoung and Lara saved for you. You drop your tote in the sand and help Ruby spread out a blanket, using your shoes and bags to hold down the corners. Mingyu and Chan settle a small cooler off to one side, filled to the brim with ice and drinks.

You pull your cover-up over your head and toss it in the direction of your tote bag and stretch out, closing your eyes happily and letting your body relax under the warmth of the sun, the sound of breaking waves rhythmic and soothing. You’re startled by the sound of music and open your eyes again to find Ruby setting up a bluetooth speaker near the cooler. She looks at you sheepishly and hurries to lower the volume.

“Sorry,” she giggles. “Didn’t mean it to start so loud.”

To your left, Chan is pulling his white t-shirt over his head. Your eyes widen and you look away as fast as you can, catching Ruby react exactly the same, her eyes comically large.

You both turn your backs to the boys, and she mouths at you, what the fuck?

What the fuck is right. You’re used to being around Mingyu, who has an admittedly perfect body, and even Soonyoung is shockingly cut under those baggy t-shirts and cropped hoodies he sports. Chan’s always been the little one, the most normal, the most obtainable in his regular-ness.

Something’s changed since the last time you were all swimming together. He’d always had a nice body, but this…

You close your eyes against the bright summer sun, as if you can block out the curve of his pecs, the shadowed lines hinting at abs. None of those had been there last summer.

That motherfucker. First, he rejects you, then he gets hotter? You hope he gets eaten by a shark today.

You push yourself to stand.

“Where are you going?” Ruby hisses.

“I need a beer,” you tell her flatly. “Actually, maybe ten beers.”

“I’m not holding your hair today,” she warns you flatly, and you flip her off and make your way to the cooler. It’s going to be a long day.

You manage to get a few hours of peace and sanity by laying out with Ruby and Lara, just enjoying the music and occasional chitchat. Further down the beach, the guys run around with a volleyball but no net, making their own asinine rules.

“I still say you should tell him,” Ruby grumbles, after catching you watching Chan from behind your sunglasses for the ninth time, and you shoot her a warning look. But the damage is done - Lara latches on, her eyes sharp.

“Him… Chan?” she guesses. You feel your face heat.

“I’m that obvious, huh?” you murmur reproachfully.

“I mean,” she says uncertainly, looking to Ruby as if for backup, “I think you both are? If it helps?”

“Both?” you repeat flatly. “I wish.”

She exchanges a look with Ruby again, a silent conversation that you aren’t part of.

“He’s not into me,” you say, easy, like the words don’t cut at you. The salty air hits the wounds and makes them sting. “He’s been clear about that.”

Ruby’s brow furrows; you’ve never actually articulated this in front of her before.

“He has?” she asks, her voice suddenly gentle and almost sorrowful. “You never told me-”

“You were there,” you protest, then look over at the guys to make sure they hadn’t stopped yelling and running. “You both were, actually. That night when you tore your knee open outside of Ivy and Ivory?”

“Yeah,” Lara says slowly, her eyes on you, “I remember that night. That was… kind of the first time I thought he had a thing for you? Like, I know it was a while ago, but -”

“A thing for me?” you echo, working hard to keep your voice quiet. “When you called us out he was so horrified he couldn’t even touch me - he acted like it burned him -”

“Honey, no,” she says seriously, leaning forward. She looks incredulous at your perspective.

“Bestie,” Ruby says, giving you a please believe me, your best friend, who would never lead you astray look. “He was terrified that you’d get spooked.”

You press your mostly-empty beer can to your chin, eyes narrowing. “Explain.”

“He wasn’t embarrassed at the idea of being coupled with you,” Lara whispers, her eyes on the guys, whose game has drifted only minutely closer to your blanket. “It was one of those like, shut up or you’ll scare her away moments. He wanted to kill me.”

“Literally, if he’d had a cartoon thought bubble, it would have said shhhh, not so loud!” Ruby adds. She peers at you. “Did you really take it like that this whole time? You thought it was a rejection?”

“He practically pushed me into traffic!” you hiss defensively, and both girls explode into laughter.

“That is not what happened,” Lara insists, and then heads to the cooler, leaving you, Ruby, and your very confused thoughts.

You look at her. She looks at you.

“I thought you knew,” she says finally, holding up her hands in mock innocence. “I had no idea you took it that way.”

You can’t respond - the boys return at this exact moment, Mingyu flops dramatically next to Ruby, panting heavily, sweat running down his face.

“Jagiya,” he gasps like he’s dying. “Water. Please.”

Ruby rolls her eyes, but a water bottle lands next to Mingyu’s head before she can get up. You turn towards the cooler and see Soonyoung standing with his hands on his knees, also panting, while Chan digs around for presumably another water bottle.

“You need anything out of here?” he asks you over his shoulder.

You shake your head. “Thanks, though.”

You rise, brushing errant sand from the backs of your thighs, squinting at the water. The waves are breaking evenly, and there’s room to tread further out past the breaking point. “I think I’m gonna go in,” you announce to whoever is listening.

Lara shakes her head, reaching one hand up to tug at Soonyoung, obviously wanting him to sit by her. Ruby flaps her hand at you as if to tell you go on. She’s never been a big swimmer, more of a giant unicorn floatie kind of girl.

You stop when you’re ankle-deep, letting a few waves break and rush over the tops of your feet, adjusting to the temperature. You start to wade in, the water rushing around your shins, when you hear your name called breathlessly behind you.

Chan jogs up, his hair pushed back, a thin silver chain bouncing against his collarbones. You look away before you can get caught. Ruby and Lara’s words race through your brain. Have you been wrong about him this whole time? Have you misread every signal over the last three years, viewed it through the wrong lens?

“You can’t leave me alone with them,” he complains, face twisting in exaggerated suffering.

You laugh. “Can’t stand being the fifth wheel, huh?”

He shakes his head, smiling, still trying to catch his breath from volleyball and then the jog over here.

“You coming in?” you ask him. “I was gonna go out and tread for a while.”

He nods. “You don’t mind if I join?”

You look at him appraisingly, new information starting to process inside your mind, shifting the rules you’d followed for months. The sea air makes you bold. “You?” you say. “I would never mind.”

You don’t wait to see his reaction; you step further into the water, hitting just above your knees when you reach the spot where the waves are breaking. You stumble a little as a wave hits your thighs, and Chan’s hand finds your elbow, firm but unassuming, helping you steady yourself again.

When you reach waist-deep water, you eye the spot just ahead where the waves reach their tallest point as they gather on their way to shore.

“We’re gonna have to go under that,” you tell Chan. He actually looks nervous, which makes you laugh. “Want me to hold your hand?”

The smile he sends you is both self-deprecating and relieved, like he can’t believe his answer is yes, but yes, and he’s so glad you asked.

“Come on,” you say, laughing again. You hold out your hand and he takes it, and when the next ocean swell rises before you like a mighty wall you hold your breath and tug him under. It’s an act of faith, dipping below the roaring ocean, hoping you time it right. You keep his fingers tight between yours and let your body sink.

You surface on the other side, in an area of relative calm. Beside you, Chan wipes at his face with his spare hand, which makes you realize you’re still holding the other. You release it gently, treading water easily. Chan can probably just touch sand if he stretches.

You tread together quietly for a few minutes, less than six inches apart. The sun glints off the water around you, dancing and sparkling as the water moves. You wish you could ask him about that night, years ago, confirm Lara and Ruby’s interpretation of the events. You could - you just aren’t brave enough.

You look at him, familiar and beautiful and - until today - unobtainable. What if you swam closer, what if you pressed yourself close and kissed him, right here in the ocean?

If it ruined everything, you could just let yourself drown. And if it didn’t… well, you could let yourself drown a different way, then.

You chicken out. You chat about inconsequential things instead - his upcoming trip with his family, a work project you’d recently wrapped up that you’d been talking about for months, what the plan will be for dinner when you all get tired of the sunshine.

It’s easy to talk to Chan - it always has been. He’s quick with a joke or a bit, but always open and earnest. He watches you quietly when you talk, accentuates his stories with his hands when it’s his turn. Eventually, Ruby joins you. Mingyu stands at the edge of the water, one hand shielding his eyes, watching her go.

“He’s not coming in?” you ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t want to get his hair wet. God, the water feels great. Anyway, we’re thinking of heading in soon, to get showers and stuff before we figure out dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Chan says.

“I’ll be right in,” you say, and beneath the water you grab at Ruby’s hand. Stay.

Chan gives you both a wave goodbye and heads towards the beach. You both watch as he steps onto land, approaches Mingyu, and shakes like a dog, spraying water all over his friend. You can hear Mingyu’s shout of protest even from here, and Ruby’s maniacal laughter echoes around you.

“How’s it going?” she asks you slyly, when she’s finished laughing at her man. Like she knows the answer already.

“Nice of you to ask!” you cry. “Actually! I’m kind of having a meltdown! Because for nearly eight months I thought he’d told me unequivocally, irrevocably no, and now I am finding out that he… I don’t even know. What does it mean? That was ages ago, surely even if he felt something then…”

“Only one way to find out,” Ruby says, way too sensibly.

“That’s not helpful,” you grumble.

“It is helpful, it’s just not easy,” she says sagely. You splash a handful of water towards her head and she shrieks, swimming further away from you.

“That’s enough of you,” you tell her, and start heading in towards the sand.

Back at the blanket, the boys and Lara have mostly packed up. You pull your rolled up towel out of your tote and dry off briskly. When everyone is accounted for, you all collect your things and head back up the walkway towards the house.

You put everything away - leftover drinks in the fridge, wet towels in the washing machine, etc - and the couples disappear into their rooms, doors closing and locking up and down the hallway.

Which just leaves you and Chan.

You follow him to the end of the hall and into the large room you’ll be somehow sharing. He turns on one of the bedside lamps and stops to plug his phone in, then looks over at you.

“You wanna shower?” he asks, tossing his phone lightly onto the bed. You can only stare at him, short-circuiting, until he clarifies. “Do you want to go first?”

“Oh,” you utter, quickly trying to recover. “Yeah, if you don’t mind?”

He waves his hand graciously towards the dark bathroom, as if to say, be my guest.

Showering turns into a reprieve - a locked door between you allowing you to jumpstart your brain again as you feel the hot water remove all the hidden bits of sand clinging to your legs and back.

While Chan takes his turn after you, you escape outside with a cold soda from the fridge. The beach beyond your rental’s deck is still pretty busy, but the crowd has thinned a bit since you all packed up. The sun descends behind the house, which means the sunrise tomorrow morning will come over the beach.

Mingyu seems to be preparing the grill, and Ruby bustles around, bringing out ingredients and setting them close to the grill. On one of the cushioned benches, Lara drapes her legs over Soonyoung’s legs and talks with him quietly, both of them giggling.

Since it seems like your help isn’t needed anywhere - you’ll help set the table when the food is almost ready, as is your usual job as a non-cook - you sit with your cold drink and watch the waves break, lost in thought.

Lara and Ruby seemed so sure that you’d misread Chan that autumn night. There’s a small part of you that’s still doubtful, but at the end of the day you do trust their judgement. So, assuming they’re right, Chan had been interested in you. That was over six months ago, though. It doesn’t mean anything now except that… well… if he was interested in you once, there’s a possibility he could be again. Or still.

Your move, it seems, is to figure out if that’s the case. Chan hasn’t done anything recently to indicate that he’s disinterested, but he also hasn’t done anything to indicate that he is. He - like you - has played it very safe. It isn’t until now that you’ve questioned if it’s because he actually sees you platonically, or if he thinks that’s what you want.

One of you is going to have to push the boundary, to test the waters.

When Chan emerges from the house, freshly showered and hair falling over his forehead nearly to his eyes, you look up from where you’re sitting and watch him thoughtfully. He pauses at the grill to ask Mingyu something, then passes by the mess of limbs that is Soonyoung and Lara, then drops onto the seat next to you.

“Mingyu says it’ll be another twenty minutes or so until everything’s done,” he informs you.

“Guess I should get the plates and stuff,” you sigh, leaning forward to set your drink on the table.

“I can help you,” he offers, and follows you inside, where you both open cabinets and drawers in the unfamiliar kitchen until you find everything you need.

He heads outside ahead of you, his hands loaded with utensils and condiments, and you pause, watching his dark silhouette against the evening sunlight. Your heart tumbles, and you jerk back into motion, following him into the light.

You all stay on the back deck until well after sunset. As the sky sinks into deeper and deeper blues, you rise and plug in the string of lights that weave through the beams above the deck, casting everyone in a nearly-orange glow. Mingyu sets up the tabletop fire pit, but you end up chilly anyway as night takes hold.

You shiver once, and you notice Chan looking sideways at you.

“Cold?” he asks, and the wave of deja vu you get is almost dizzying.

You shake your head instinctively, more against the memory than actually answering the question. “I’m fine,” you say, even though you do have goosebumps rising along your arms.

He gets up anyway, heading into the unlit house without a word. You rise a beat later and head across the deck.

Ruby calls your name like a question, and in answer you point at the cooler tucked behind the grill, where you’d all stashed beer and water bottles. She gives a quick “ah” of understanding.

“You need one?” you ask her, as you shuffle behind the grill and pull on the cooler’s lid.

“I’ll take a beer,” Mingyu answers for her, and you dig through the bottles and cans until you find his preferred brand, reaching to pass it to him over Soonyoung’s head. Then you turn back and look at your options, trying to decide if you want a can of spiked seltzer or if you want to go inside and mix something a little harder.

While you’re deciding, the glass door to your left slides open, and Chan steps quietly back onto the deck. He’s in a baby blue hoodie that he hadn’t been wearing before, and he carries a bundle of dark material in his hands.

“Here,” he says quietly, holding it out to you. “It felt weird to dig through your luggage, so I grabbed one of mine.”

You take his offering silently, fighting a tiny smile. “Thanks,” you say, equally quiet, like you’ve both agreed you want to keep this moment between you, not call the attention of the others. You shake the dark hoodie out and pull it over your head, slipping your arms into the sleeves and fixing the hood so it’s not inside-out. The hem falls almost past your shorts, and the sleeves reach past your fingers.

Chan bends to grab a beer from the cooler, then heads back to where he was sitting before. You reach for your own drink, settling on a seltzer after all, and when you turn to head back to your spot you can’t help but notice him watching you through the flickering fire pit, something unreadable on his face.

“You good?” you ask him as you settle back into your spot.

“Yeah,” he says, but there’s something tight in his voice that makes the goosebumps rise on your arms again despite the new layer of warmth you’re wearing. That smells like him. You tug on the edges of the sleeves to pull the shoulders tighter and curl up on your chair, tucking your legs into the baggy material and locking back into the conversation.

The night moves slowly, the constellations rotating centimeter by centimeter above you, everything made comfortably fuzzy by the drinks and the firelight. Sometime before midnight, Ruby suggests a walk along the beach.

You go in bare feet, the cool wood of the deck stairs giving way to sand as soft as silk. Mingyu and Ruby take the lead, the rest of you trailing behind. At some point - long after the house disappears from view - Lara stops, pointing up at the moon - a sliver above the undulating sea.

The four of you stop and look for a minute. Down the beach, you can hear Ruby and Mingyu but they’re out of sight in the dark.

“We should probably catch up with them,” you say, looking in the direction of their disembodied voices.

“I think we’re gonna head back to the house, actually,” Lara says, looking up at Soonyoung to gauge if he agrees. “We’ll leave the back door unlocked for you all?”

They say their goodbyes and head back hand in hand, leaving you alone with Chan and that sliver of moon. For a minute, the night seems to expand around you, growing bigger and bigger and leaving the two of you so small within it. Chan looks at you silently, as if he’s waiting for something, one side of his mouth quirked into an almost-smile that makes your stomach swim with the desire to cause a real smile, to push that little almost into something fully-formed.

Then, Ruby calls your names loudly from further up the beach, and the spell is broken.

“Guess we better catch up,” Chan says wryly. You both turn and start walking in silence, nearly shoulder to shoulder. As you walk, the back of your hand brushes the back of his just once, and your entire body prickles at the contact. You almost shift away, give him a little more space, but something urges you to hold the line. You want to see what he will do.

You keep walking, close enough that you can hear him breathing, hear the sand slide each time he takes a step. The back of his hands brushes yours again, warm. He doesn’t react, so neither do you.

You carry on, knuckles occasionally bumping his, until you find Ruby and Mingyu. They’re standing watching the moon, Mingyu wrapped around Ruby’s back like a giant, love-sick koala.

“Where’re Soonyoung and Lara?” Ruby asks, when she notices you.

“They headed back,” you say, stopping a few feet away.

“We should, too,” Ruby muses, eyes on the moon. “But it’s so pretty here.”

“It is,” Chan murmurs from beside you and you glance sideways at him, trying to read him. He’s staring out at the dark sea, the stars flickering in and out above it, giving you his profile. Ruby’s eyes flick to you, one eyebrow quirked. You look away, not wanting to get caught in this silent conversation, but you can feel the heat on your face, the smile tugging at your mouth.

The house is dark when you all return, and you let yourselves back in quietly, just in case Soonyoung and Lara are actually sleeping. You bid Ruby and Mingyu goodnight in whispers and head to the end of the hall. Chan closes the door and you flick on the bedside lamp, casting a low yellow light through the room.

Wordlessly, Chan begins to rummage through his suitcase, transferring items to a small pile - a pair of loose shorts, a toothbrush, his phone charger. It occurs to you, suddenly, that he’s gathering what he needs to leave - to go sleep on a couch.

“Chan,” you say. You don’t even know what you want to say next. You just know you don’t want him to go, don’t want him to sleep on a couch, don’t want to be here alone.

He pauses, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

What do you want to say? Stay? You balk, suddenly chicken again.

“I can take the couch tonight,” you say instead. He shakes his head, but you press on. “We can switch tomorrow.”

“Nope,” he says easily.

“Chan,” you say again. He keeps rummaging, his back to you.

“Chan,” you repeat, insistent. He turns fully, still crouching, and raises his eyebrows as if to say, yes?

“Do you want to just stay here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking. It feels like a moment of great enormity.

He shakes his head, and the rejection stings enough that you feel your breath catch.

But then he says, “No, I’m not letting you sleep on a couch. I’m trying to be a gentleman - quit fighting me.”

You realize, slowly, that he misunderstood what you were offering.

“No,” you say. “I meant… like… no one on the couch.”

He stares at you blankly, his hands open like he forgot he was searching for something.

Embarrassment licks up the back of your neck like flames. “The bed isn’t that small,” you say, a little defensive. “We could just, like, stay on our own sides.”

The blank look on his face slowly transforms. His brows come together, his mouth tucking into a rare frown. He opens his mouth like he’s going to ask something, but nothing comes out. His eyes flick to the bed and then back to you.

“I don’t…” he says, and the heat of embarrassment heightens. He clears his throat and tries again, “I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he says slowly.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t okay with it,” you point out.

He nods slowly, then pushes himself to stand. “Are you extremely sure?” he asks, peering at you. “This isn’t a High Noon decision, is it?”

You laugh, the tension dissipating a little. “No,” you assure him. “I just… feel bad putting you on a couch… and I don’t particularly want to sleep on a couch either… and I think we can… not make it weird?”

“We can,” he says, like a promise.

You second-guess your decision the whole time you get ready for bed - as you brush your teeth, as you change into pajamas, as you settle into the side of the bed by the balcony and plug in your phone. You’re nervous you won’t be able to keep it not weird - nervous that you won’t be able to keep your hands to yourself, that the magnetic pull to touch him will be too strong.

But when Chan climbs into the other side of the bed and clicks off the light, illuminated only by his phone screen, his warmth seeping into the blankets around you, it isn’t your hands that inch towards him. It’s your words. They claw their way out, desperate to reach across the six inches of darkness.

Chan, I’m actually really into you.

What really happened that night, when we were walking from bar to bar?

I’m in love with you, probably. I think.

Are you interested in me? At all?

You fight them all back, hold them all in. You don’t relax until Chan’s clicked his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, whispered goodnight to you, until you hear his breathing deepen. Just in case. Just in case the words get out the second you unclench - you need him to be asleep first so you can be sure he won’t hear them. You fall asleep with your face buried in the crook of your elbow, one last line of defense.

You wake up with your face buried in the crook of Chan’s neck instead of your own arm. You realize it instantly, body freezing like you’re about to get caught stealing, your whole body tight with panic. Like if you don’t move, you won’t wake him, and he won’t know that you cuddled him in your sleep.

Mortifying.

He’s mostly on his back but sort of tilted towards you, and you have one arm over his ribs, your nose pressed into the juncture of his shoulder. But, you realize as you stay frozen, his arms are around you. This was a mutual cuddle. Your legs are touching, too, one of your shins between his.

You try to breathe as shallowly as possible, fight the urge to stretch or roll or scoot away. You don’t want to alert him, pop this bubble, make the moment end. Chan is holding you as the sun rises over the ocean outside. It feels like another daydream, too good to be true. You never want it to end. You wish it was more real than this.

Slowly, you relax, one limb at a time, letting your muscles unclench and inhaling deeply. His skin, warm against your cheek, smells good - still a bit salty from the ocean, even after showering. But it’s only moments later that he stirs, his arms tightening around you and then loosening again as he makes a satisfied, low noise in his throat.

Then he goes still. You freeze back up, watching him for a reaction.

His mouth moves first, quirking sideways, and then he cracks one eye and peers down at you. A laugh bubbles from him and the cuddle is disintegrating around you as he shifts himself backwards and up on his elbows, still chuckling.

“Sorry,” he’s laughing, “sorry. I didn’t - that - I did not expect to do that in my sleep.”

You can’t help your own sheepish smile in return. “Me either, but it was actually comfy,” you admit. Now disentangled, you feel kind of cold and a little sad. But he’s acting like it was a funny goof, your bodies clinging to each other the second your brains turned off, so you’ll go along with the joke.

He rolls over and rummages on his nightstand, returning with his phone in hand and pushing thin-framed glasses up his nose. You look away, heart clenching. You love him in those; combined with the bedhead and his smell in your nose and the warmth of his skin not yet evaporated from yours and the feeling of his arms around you… it’s all a lot.

“I’m gonna… get dressed,” you say, reaching for your own phone. Chan hums a response and you vanish into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and getting ready as slowly as possible. When you come out, the bedroom is blessedly empty. You close your eyes and exhale. It’s going to be a long day.

When you finally head down to the kitchen, Lara and Chan are chatting easily at the table, steaming mugs in their hands. He’s still in those damn cute glasses.

“Good morning!” Lara greets you brightly. “There’s coffee!”

“God bless you,” you tell her seriously. You open a cabinet in search of a mug, but you’re faced with only plates and glassware instead. Chan appears at the cabinet next to you, reaching up and offering you a white mug with a cartoon seagull on it.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling weirdly shy considering you just woke up pressed against him. Once you fix the coffee how you like it, you take the seat next to Lara at the table. “Everyone else still asleep?” you ask.

“Soonyoung is, but I have to go wake him up in a minute,” Lara says, clicking on her phone screen to check the time. “We have a snorkeling thing at ten.”

“Ruby and Mingyu are out already,” Chan tells you. “Sunrise yoga. She texted us.”

“God,” you say, horrified. “Mingyu’s gonna hate that.” You realize at the mention of her text that you’ve left your phone upstairs.

Chan laughs. “Right?”

Lara rises, presumably to go wake up her boyfriend. “Her text said they’d be out until around four,” she tells you as she moves back into the kitchen to rinse out her mug. “I think they’ll beat us back, but not by much. Maybe we can go grab dinner when everyone’s back?”

“Sure,” you say, shooting a look at Chan to see if he has any opinions on this plan. He shrugs - no opinions to be found. You’ve always loved the way he could just go with the flow, happy to be along for the adventure.

You and Chan are still sitting at the table, coffees dwindling, when Lara pulls a bleary-eyed Soonyoung through the front door with a shouted goodbye, the sound of the car’s engine reaching you from outside. You look at each other, left alone together.

Again.

He gives you a flat, unamused look that he definitely picked up from Seungkwan or Vernon. “Are they doing this on purpose?” he asks, and a jolt goes through you. He’s said it. It’s like a curtain being pulled, shedding sunlight on something that had been shadowbound until now.

“Doing what?” you say, even though you know. “Leaving us by ourselves? Probably. Ruby likes to fuck with me.”

Chan laughs, and you’re filled with shaky relief that the moment isn’t weird. You both knew what this was, apparently, and facing it has put you on the same team against it.

“I thought it was to fuck with me,” he admits, still smiling.

“Two birds with one stone,” you muse. “For the sake of efficiency.”

But you wonder… why would it be fucking with him if he wasn’t interested in you? Is he admitting something?

“Well,” Chan says, stretching his arms above his head, fingers linked, “by all means, you can do your own thing today. You don’t have to babysit me. But it’s supposed to storm later, so I was thinking I’d use the pool a bit this morning while we still can, and then maybe go into town for lunch.”

You consider this. “That’s very pragmatic of you,” you observe lightly.

“That’s one of the first words I’d pick to describe myself,” he tries to deadpan, but the smile is too quick, telling on himself.

You let him get changed first, and when you make your way out back to the pool he’s already in the water up to his waist. You toss a towel onto one of the chaises.

“How’s the water?” you ask him, as you move to sit on the edge, preparing to let your legs dangle.

“It’s great,” he tells you, smiling easily, like he’s happy - happy you’re here, happy to be here with you.

You wonder if that’s the case, as you slowly lower your legs in, the water coming to lap a few inches below your knees.

“Feels cold,” you tell him. It doesn’t, really - way warmer than the ocean you played in yesterday, but you want to tease him a little.

Suddenly, his hands are on your ankles, holding you firmly. His hands are on your ankles.

“You should get in quickly,” he tells you, trying - again - to pretend to be serious, despite the smile he can’t combat. “Like ripping off a band-aid.”

“Lee Chan,” you warn, but a giggle rises up in you. “Don’t you dare. I will get in when I am good and ready!”

“I’m just trying to help,” he says, pretending to be hurt. His fingers are still pressing against your skin, your brain impossibly aware of the exact spot his thumb presses, as if there’s a beacon illuminating the place.

He gives your legs a playful tug, too lightly to actually move you. You squeal anyway, reaching down to splash water towards him. “Chan!”

He releases your ankles, taking a step back to avoid the splash, laughing. “Be careful,” he warns. “If it’s war you want -” He holds his hand like a knife above the water, ready to retaliate the splash.

“Oh my God, you menace. I’m getting in!” you cry, gripping the lip of the pool and sliding in, staying on your tippy-toes as your body adjusts to the temperature.

“Come on,” he goads, backing away from you, bobbing towards the shallow end. “You have to go under or it doesn’t count.”

“You’re a menace,” you repeat firmly, and he laughs, enjoying that his teasing has worked you up.

You eye the expanse of water between you - you’re at opposite ends of the pool now. “Do you think I could make it across in one go?” you ask.

He raises an eyebrow. “Like, underwater? I don’t know - how’s your lung capacity?”

You laugh. “Maybe not good enough,” you admit wryly. “But I’ll try.”

You take a deep breath of salty sea air, only minorly marred by chlorine, and slip down below the surface. You let the bottoms of your feet find the flat cement wall of the pool, and you give a hearty push. It��s hard without being able to see how much farther you have to go, but you hate getting chlorine in your eyes, so you kick and pull blindly until your lungs start to burn. When your natural buoyancy pulls you upward, you don’t fight it.

Your hands find something warm and solid before you surface. Surprise causes you to rear your head, fucking with your balance, and your feet find the floor of the pool. You stand up unsteadily, blinking water out of your eyes.

Chan comes into focus, his expression tight, and you realize that your hands had found his stomach, centimeters above his belly button.

“Sorry,” you say quickly, pulling away.

It’s like ever since last night, you can’t stop touching, your bodies fighting to come together even as you both dig in your heels and try to stop it.

“No worries,” he says just as quickly. You try to cover the moment by wiping water out of your face, but you feel warm all over, the cool water useless against your heated skin as you try to push away how his muscled stomach had felt under your fingertips.

You spend a good hour just floating and splashing around. Sometimes you chat and sometimes you lapse into comfortable silence. At one point you hear him singing lightly under his breath, his voice surprisingly clear but frustratingly quiet.

Eventually, your stomach growls. “I’m starting to get hungry,” you tell him. “You up for lunch in town, maybe? I’d just need to shower super quick first.”

“Sounds great,” he says easily, and you both head for the single runged ladder at the deep end. Chan climbs up first, standing by the ladder, dripping onto the concrete. You grip the metal handles firmly and find the bottom rung with one foot, pushing heavily to hoist yourself up.

And Chan helps you up - his fingers finding the dip of your waist and guiding you until you’re steadily on the pool deck, something protective in the touch.

Your entire body thrums, electric, cells vibrating. You hurry to your towel and wrap yourself up, hiding your face in the material - pretending you’re just chasing droplets away from your eyes, but actually smothering the urge to scream, if you’re going to touch me then get over here and do it properly!

“Did you know there’s a hot tub under the deck? Was that mentioned in the listing?” Chan asks, and you uncover your face.

“Huh?”

He’s pointing, and then you see that he’s right - tucked beneath the deck is a decently-sized jacuzzi, the lid on and straps fastened shut.

“Oh,” you say breathlessly. “Well, I know what I’m doing after dinner.”

Chan laughs, and you head inside, careful not to drip a trail of pool water through the house.

The rest of the morning passes pleasantly and without any touching; you shower and get changed and go on foot into the small beach town. You find a cute open-air cafe and order lunch, the iced coffee absolutely divine under the warm summer sun. The company’s not bad either.

After you’ve paid and left, Chan pauses on the sidewalk and gives you a mischievous smile. “Up for a little adventure?” he asks.

You frown. “What level of adventure?” you ask cautiously. “Like, on a scale of jumping out of a plane being ten to laying on my towel in the sand being one, what are we talking here?”

He laughs. “Like a three,” he assures you. “We just have a bit of a walk - maybe twenty minutes?”

The walk is pleasant - you don’t even get too warm, as there’s a constant breeze off the ocean and clouds pass overhead, pitching you momentarily into shade between longer bouts of sunshine. When you turn a bend and see the lighthouse rise against the sky in the distance, you actually gasp.

“Can we go up?” you ask, delighted.

“That’s the plan,” he tells you, and for once you can read his face perfectly - he’s pleased that he’s surprised you, pleased to have made you happy. Something warm simmers under your skin, affection and happiness and something else.

It takes forever to reach the top. You have to stop and rest more than once, your calves burning and protesting the many stairs. A few families pass you on their way down, one mother telling you cheerfully that you’re almost to the top. This motivates you to continue, and you press on until you reach the final landing and step through the metal doorway.

The view is absolutely worth it. The beach and the ocean stretch out before you, the town in the distance behind you. Alone at the top, you feel like you’re in your own little world, surrounded by sunlight and the calls of gulls, just you and Chan.

You stand, holding the railing, watching the waves undulate far below you for a long time. “Chan,” you say, and then falter. You don’t know what you were going to say. Some part of you thinks maybe you’d been about to confess, or to finally ask him something to shed light on his feelings.

When he looks at you, expectant, you say only, “Thanks for bringing me here.”

And maybe you did confess something, because he reaches over and squeezes your hand, just once.

And then, he looks over your shoulder and utters, “Uh oh.”

You spin, following his gaze, and echo, “Uh oh.”

Dark grey clouds gather to the west. You remember him saying it was supposed to storm later; it looks like rain will be rolling in soon, ushering in the storms behind it.

“We’d better head down,” he says regretfully, and you follow him back inside.

You make it down and outside before the rain comes, but the sunshine of the morning has gone and left gloomy grey in its wake.

“You think we can make it back to the house?” you ask breathlessly.

Chan checks the time on his phone, already walking brisky back towards the direction of town and your rental. “Maybe,” he says, but he sounds doubtful. “We’ve gotta be quick, though.”

You barely even make it into town; you aren’t even back at the cafe where you’d had lunch before the sky opens. It happens exactly like that - one second it’s not raining, the next second you’re drenched, hair plastered to your face, shirt sticking to your back, spluttering breaths through your mouth like you’re being sprayed with a hose.

You let out a cry of surprise, and then Chan is grabbing your hand and tugging, pulling you off of the sidewalk and into a nearby doorway. You don’t even manage to see what the doorway belongs to - Chan is already pulling it open, his hand still in yours as he leads you inside.

It’s dark, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust as you wipe rain away from your eyes and shake droplets off of your arms. Beside you, Chan is doing the same, running a hand through his soaked hair and huffing out a noise of disbelief.

“That,” you say, “was bonkers.”

You seem to be in a dimly-lit dive bar, the kind that only locals go to. It’s pretty empty, since it’s early afternoon on a weekday, so when Chan raises a soggy, questioning eyebrow at you, you shrug and follow him towards the bar. Why not?

You take a seat wearily, and pull out your phone.

“We’ve got almost an hour until everyone is supposed to be back,” you inform him.

“In that case,” he says, and when the bartender meanders over, he orders you a row of shots to share.

You clink shot glasses for the first one, but after that you turn it into a game.

Chan narrows his eyes at you, mock-thoughtful. “What would you do if you woke up and your hands and feet had switched places?”

After answering (use my toes to order an Uber to the hospital), you volley with, “What would you do if aliens invaded tomorrow?”

Back and forth the game goes, punctuated by shot glasses being emptied and returned to the bar. What would you do if you woke up married in Vegas? … What would you do if you woke up one day and could only speak in rhyme? … What would you do if you were suddenly allergic to your favorite food? … What would you do if you were forced to join the circus?

You’re both laughing deliriously. Chan is wiping under his eyes in mirth, and you’ve hunched over so far that you find yourself with your hands on his knees, using him to stay upright on your barstool. Your surroundings have faded into colors and muted sounds with the alcohol in your system. All you can focus on is Chan, warm and solid under your palms, his eyes on you, the sound of his laugh cutting straight through the fog.

Then his next one isn’t so funny. “What would you do if you found out you only had a day to live?” he asks, and despite the seriousness, one last chuckle rumbles through his chest, like an aftershock.

Tell you. Tell you the truth.

You swallow. You take your hands off of his knees - you’re not sure he even noticed them there - and flex your fingers. And then, filter demolished by both alcohol and the sheer amount of time it’s been keeping you in check, you break.

Instead of answering, you fire back your own. “What would you do if I came onto you right now?”

Chan blinks at you, eyes as wide as you’ve ever seen them. He blinks twice more, and then his mouth opens. Your heart pounds.

“I’d - I - I guess, I’d probably kiss you,” he says, voice suddenly hushed, as if he’s a little unsure if he’s supposed to be honest or if the game is still a string of jokes.

You stare back. The two of you are frozen, both a bit wide-eyed, like neither of you is sure how you ended up like this.

Then, you breathe, “Okay, then do it.”

He nods immediately, breath coming sharply, and shifts closer on his seat. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waiting. Tentatively, he reaches up, brushes your jaw with his thumb.

Beside you, your phone blares to life on the bar. You both jump, startled out of the moment.

“Ruby,” you tell him hollowly. His hand still hovers near your face, but he nods, pulling it away. You feel like you can barely breathe as you slide your thumb to take the call.

“Hey,” you say into the phone, your eyes on Chan.

“Hey,” Ruby says, “where are you guys? Our thing ended early because of the rain so we’re back at the house.”

“Oh,” you say, trying hard to focus on her voice in her ear and not what just almost happened. “We’re in town. At… a bar? We came in to get out of the rain.”

“Perfect,” Ruby says. Across from you, Chan is rubbing his hands down the tops of his thighs, like they’re sweaty. You wonder if he’s nervous. “We’ll get changed and come get you guys in the car, and then we can go grab dinner together.”

You agree and hang up, then repeat the plan to Chan, who nods. He looks how you feel - a bit shell-shocked, a bit uncertain.

“We need to sober up,” you say. “Or, at least, I do.”

“No, me too,” he says, shaking his head. He sighs, and he might as well have said, goddamn Ruby. You hear it all. Then he seems to give himself a shake, orders you each a water, and asks to close his tab.

“They’re just up the street,” you tell him when Ruby’s text rolls in a bit later.

He nods, uncharacteristically quiet. You wish you could peek inside his brain and see what’s going on in there.

“Hey,” you say, and his eyes snap to you, that open look you know so well on his face. Your voice softens, and you resist the urge to reach out and touch his hand when you continue. “Here’s what I don’t want to happen - I don’t want Ruby to sniff out that something’s going on and interrogate me before we can… talk, ourselves. So let’s pull it together, and get through dinner, and then we can…”

We can what? Pick up where we left off?

He nods anyway, even though you’d left the thought unfinished. “You’re right,” he says.

And, somehow, you do. You both pull it together, rush through the pouring rain from the bar to the open car door. You smile and tease and laugh through dinner, like nothing had happened at all.

You feel relieved, in the back of Ruby’s car, as you all make your way back to the house. You did it - you got through dinner unscathed. Now you can go inside, and have some privacy, and talk and maybe figure out -

“Did you guys know the rental has a hot tub?” Chan asks, and you turn to look at him, baffled.

“It has a what?” Ruby gasps.

“Yep,” he says cheerfully, like he hasn’t just shattered your dream of getting a moment to yourselves. “It’s under the deck. Which means - hey! - it’s covered! We could totally go in, we wouldn’t even be in the rain.”

“That sounds great, actually,” Lara muses.

You say nothing, but when he catches you looking sideways at him, Chan sends you a wink, quick as lightning. You feel your face go puzzled, and he smiles and looks away, giving you no answers.

You’re somehow the first one to get changed and outside; it’s still pouring rain and you cover your head with your towel as you make your way down the steps and under the deck where some drips make it through, but you’re mostly out of the rain. A quick sweep of the area with your phone’s flashlight shows that there’s a string of the same lights down here as above on the deck, and you hurry to plug them in. Now that you can see, it’s actually kind of cute under here.

You unsnap the first strap for the lid, and jump when a pair of hands reaches next to you for the second one. You hadn’t heard Chan approach, but you silently accept his help as you push the lid up and off. You watch him out of the corners of your eyes to see if he’s going to say anything, address it at all. When it seems like he’s not, you turn to climb up the little set of steps, resigned.

His hand closes around your wrist, stilling you. He gives the tiniest of tugs and you relent, turning around. He gives you another tiny tug - you could resist if you wanted to, but you don’t, you don’t, you don’t. You let the tug pull you closer and look up at him, waiting. He kisses you quickly, firmly, close-mouthed for now but sure, his hands forming loose loops around each of your wrists as if he might want to tug you into place again.

The sliding glass door above you slides open and you step away, heart racing.

“Later,” he says quietly, and then you don’t get another second alone, Mingyu and Soonyoung’s voices bouncing through the space as they clamber down the deck stairs.

You climb into the warm water and choose a spot. Chan follows and sits a few solid feet away from you. You try not to look guilty when the other guys round the corner.

“Brought you a beer,” Mingyu says, reaching the extra can towards you.

“You are a legend,” you tell him gratefully.

Chan frowns, and for a crazed second you think maybe he’s jealous that Mingyu did something nice for you, but then he whines, “You didn’t bring me one? Hyung.”

“Calm your ass down,” Mingyu says, climbing into the water and finding a seat. You’re instantly more crowded, just from the sheer amount of space his long legs take up. “Soonyoung has yours.”

You snicker a little, and Chan gives you a light kick under the water. Above you, you hear the door slide open again, and a minute later Ruby and Lara appear beneath the deck, sheltered from the rain by Ruby’s towel.

“Oh,” Ruby says, surprised. “It’s not bad under here!”

“It’s cute, right?” you agree. “Still getting a few raindrops, though.”

“Eh, we’re in water anyway,” Soonyoung says easily, reaching up a hand to help steady Lara as she climbs in.

It’s crowded, and Chan’s two-feet-away doesn’t last. Instead, you’re crowded together, just inches apart. Ruby leans over the edge and turns on the jets, the top of the water creating a frothy layer.

“This is nice,” Lara says happily, closing her eyes and leaning against her boyfriend’s shoulder.

“It is,” you murmur, sipping at your beer. Under the cover of the jets’ bubbles, something touches your hand. Someone’s hand touches your hand. Chan’s hand touches your hand.

Your heart lurches. You beg your face to behave and give nothing away. And ever so slowly, you turn your hand over.

He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes on Soonyoung, who’s telling a story animatedly on the other side of the jacuzzi. But his fingers lace between yours, and his thumb brushes along the back of your hand, slow and tantalizing.

You’ve never been so undone by hand holding in your life.

You try to breathe. You sip casually at your beer and interject into the conversation when you can. You laugh at the jokes and look at whoever is speaking. You have no idea what the conversation is about. You hold onto Chan’s slender fingers like he’s a lifeline, like if you let go he’ll slip away, again and for good.

Later, he’d said, and his voice echoes in your head as you pray for later to be now. And finally, blessedly, Lara finally yawns, loud, and starts making moves to get out and head in. Which means so does Soonyoung. Then Mingyu lifts a hand from the water and examines his fingers, complaining, “I’m all pruny.” Chan gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go, reaching for his beer nonchalantly, watching Ruby and Mingyu carefully. You know you’re both waiting, impatiently, for them to leave you alone.

Leave, you silently beg, still trying to appear as casual as possible. Leaaaaave.

“You staying a little?” Ruby asks you, pausing halfway out of the hot tub.

“Yeah,” you say, trying to force your voice to stay casual. “I slept pretty late this morning - I’m not really tired yet.”

“Not all of us got up for sunrise yoga,” Chan says dryly, and Mingyu laughs, reaching for Ruby’s hand, clearly wanting to get inside.

“Okay, then,” Ruby says, her eyes still on you. “See you in the morning then.”

“Bye,” you tell her, and you have to fight the giggle out of your voice. You can’t help it - you feel giddy, nearly bouncing with excitement. You and Chan have been skirting the brink of something all day and you’re finally standing on the cusp of it, toes curled over the edge, ready to dive.

The second you hear the sliding door above you close, Chan’s hand is on your wrist again, pulling much more insistently than he had earlier in the day. Surprised, you let him tug you onto his lap, settling with your thighs bracketing his own, his hands wasting no time in finding your hips and pulling you more firmly against him.

His mouth is on yours, as insistent as his touch. You answer him readily, nearly sighing into his mouth as you get something you’ve wanted for years. You skate your hands up his chest and bring your arms around the back of his neck. He tips his head back a little, his hands sliding up your back, and the change in angle makes you sigh again.

“Thought they’d never leave,” he mutters against your jaw, and you let out a quick huff of a laugh before your breath leaves you entirely as his teeth nip a line down your neck, tongue and lips soothing behind each quick sting.

You chase his mouth, wanting him back, and he groans quietly when he realizes - like you wanting to continue kissing is just as good as actually kissing. But nothing is as good as the kissing, not if anyone asks you, nothing is as good as his tongue against yours, his teeth gentle on your lips, his hands clutching at your back and your arms and your hips like he can’t pick a favorite.

His hands roaming your body ignite you. You become only aware of their migration as they map the width of your shoulders, survey the dip of your waist, skate over your ass, then repeat the expedition. Your fingers have found his hair, curled up and held tight. He takes your hips in his hands and shifts you on his lap, causing you to tug slightly, and his exhale holds just the slightest hint of a whimper. You almost unravel, right there.

The shifted position also makes it absolutely unignorable that Chan is hard beneath you, and you can’t - don’t even try to - stop yourself from pressing yourself closer, your hips rolling almost involuntarily as soon as you feel him. Chan gasps at the sudden friction, his eyes squeezing shut for a second, like he’s already going under. Then his hands - frozen on your hips while his brain rebooted - come back to life, slipping up your ribs to cup both of your breasts over your bathing suit, giving one slow knead to both in tandem. You moan, low, unable to stop it, and he responds almost instantly, letting out an audibly shuddering breath.

He surges upwards to kiss you again, one thumb still rubbing circles against your hardening nipple, the other hand trailing back down your side and gripping your waist, holding you in place. You continue to move against him, his mouth hot against yours, the water bubbling around you and surrounding you in mist.

Chan’s nimble fingers leave your chest and work their way down between your bodies, pausing at the edge of your bathing suit bottoms. He looks up at you, pupils blown, panting out controlled little breaths like he’s fighting to keep himself in check.

Eyes unwavering on yours, watching your reactions closely, he slips his fingers between your legs, pressing the material against you, sliding down your slit and back deftly. His cock kicks beneath you when you whine. His gaze on you feels charged, almost like a challenge.

And then you’re blinded by a flash, followed almost instantly by an alarming crack of thunder.

“Fuck,” Chan hisses, twisting to peer out towards the ocean, his hands finding your hips again as if by instinct. “The storm.”

“Guess we have to head in,” you say, and it comes out wispy and breathless. Your legs feel like jelly and he’s barely even started.

“Yeah,” he says, the single syllable tight. He adjusts himself as you vacate the water, the rain beyond the safety of the deck seeming to redouble its efforts. You both hurry to turn the jets off and replace the cover, then stand at the edge of the dry space, looking out at the raging rain.

As hot and heavy as things were only a minute ago, you feel oddly still now, staring out at the storm. Chan places your towel over your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, looking sideways at him.

“Ready?” he asks you, and you think he means ready to brave the storm. But your heart is answering another question - are you ready to continue, ready to move forward with him, ready to give life to something that has remained only a daydream in your mind?

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly.

He slips his hand into yours. “I’ve got you,” he promises.

You move quickly but carefully through the rain, eyes on your feet as you take the slippery wooden stairs up the deck and towards the house. Chan doesn’t let go of your hand until you’re inside, sliding the door shut behind you. The house is dark and quiet, lit only by a single light above the kitchen sink. You both stand near the door and try to dry off, but your towels got soaked by the rain and don’t do much good.

“Come on,” Chan whispers. “There are fresh towels upstairs.”

You follow him through the house, up the stairs and down the darkened hallway. Chan pauses at the linen closet, pulling out two fluffy towels. You lead him into your shared room, closing and locking the door behind you as he clicks on one of the lamps.

Chan comes back into your space quietly, wraps you both in his towel, the spare forgotten on top of your dresser. You’re pressed tight together, warm in his arms. He presses his lips to the top of your head, leaving them resting there, just holding you. The moment is soft, heavy, a stark contrast to the lightning physicality of what happened outside. Something about the intimacy of it makes you feel hesitant.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling away a little to look at you.

“Yeah,” you breathe back. Your heart is racing. But it’s Chan. It’s Chan with his arms around you, and Chan who was kissing you and touching you, and - it all feels like something you aren’t allowed to have. “Just… maybe we shouldn’t?”

“We don’t have to,” he says immediately, shifting backwards and loosening his arms around you, giving you the option of pulling away if you want it. “We can do whatever you’re comfortable with. If you want to just go to bed… or if you want me to take the couch tonight, I can -”

“No,” you say quickly, because that’s the opposite of what you want. “No, it’s just… Chan…”

He seems to hear your uncertainty in your voice, his face softening and his arms pulling you back in. “What is it?” he asks quietly, and you slip your arms around his middle, giving in.

“I think I want this a lot more than you do,” you whisper, glad you don’t have to look at him while you say it.

He laughs, and you step back, looking at him quizzically. You’d been afraid of his reaction - of making him uncomfortable, of pushing the line too far. You hadn’t expected laughter.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he tells you, and you just stare at him, not comprehending. He reaches up, fingers still clutching a corner of the towel wrapped loosely around his back, and brushes a thumb along your jaw. You feel your face warm, but you wait him out. He adds, “I want this… a ridiculous amount. I’ve wondered for a long time if we could… be more.”

He says it like a confession. He says it like he’s embarrassed about it.

“Well,” you say, a fire - a hope - coming back to life behind your ribcage, “maybe we should find out.”

And there it is, that smile that makes the whole world melt away.

The towel drops to the floor, forgotten, and his fingers are at the back of your neck, tugging on the knot that ties your bathing suit top in place. When the material falls away he makes a satisfied noise in his throat as he moves to kiss you again, walking you back towards the bed.

You’d both been eager, but when the mattress hits the backs of your thighs Chan lays you back slowly, almost reverently. He kisses you sweetly, tracing your jaw again, and then lets out another little laugh.

“What?” you breathe, smiling despite being clueless. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing. It’s not,” he says, but he’s still smiling, eyes tracing over your face and body. “It’s just… hard to believe this is real. That it’s you.”

Your breath leaves you. It’s exactly how you’ve felt.

“I know what you mean,” you whisper, and you kiss him again. This time he doesn’t hesitate when his hand slips between your legs, brushing right past your bathing suit and pushing the pads of his fingers into the wet mess he finds there. You shudder an exhale into his waiting mouth as he presses one finger and then a second deep into you, his eyes on you as you arch into the touch.

You let your eyes drift close as he pumps them slowly, and outside the room there’s another flash of lightning chased by the crack of thunder. For a little, there’s only the sound of rain beating against the windows as Chan works little whimpers and half moans out of you.

He switches his angle, something snagging behind your navel, everything beginning to tighten. You gasp his name, and you’re answered by his too-familiar huff of a laugh again.

“What?” you demand through your own smile.

“You say my name like that again and I’m gonna bust,” he tells you seriously. Then he brings his attention back to where his fingers disappear inside you, and his gaze sharpens. “These are in my way,” he murmurs, pulling out of you and reaching for your bathing suit, which had been pushed to the side.

“Yours too, then,” you object playfully, lifting your hips for him as he slides the damp material down your legs. He smiles at you indulgently and shuffles backwards on the back, standing long enough to tug at his swim trunks, letting them drop unceremoniously before crawling back up to you, pressing his mouth to yours and cupping your jaw with one hand, like he’d missed you in the seconds he’d been gone.

“Chan,” you whisper, because you need more of him, because this isn’t enough.

He slides lower down your body, his chest brushing against yours, his lips mapping a path down your sternum, down your belly, pausing near your navel. He looks up at you, all glinty-eyed, that million-dollar smile going slightly sideways, a little mischievous.

“Can I? Please say yes,” he says in a rush, pushing his nose into your lower belly and caressing your inner thighs with his thumbs.

You lean up on your elbows so you can look at him better. Your heart hasn’t stopped racing for a minute. He’s going to give you a cardiac event. “If you want to,” you tell him.

He laughs again, so quiet. “You have no idea,” he says, shaking his head, and then he’s attaching his mouth to you and your arms give out. You eye the ceiling, a strangled moan working up your throat as Chan’s tongue delves into your heat. You squirm, trying to push him deeper. He loops his arms under your legs and then reaches over, his hands pulling you tighter against his chin, both of you working to the same goal.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time imagining how Chan might eat pussy, but you’re surprised that he dives right into fucking you on his tongue, determined and rhythmic. You’d have pegged him for the type to go slow, draw it out, tease and taste and work you up little by little. Instead he grunts in satisfaction, pulls on you hard enough that you wonder if he’ll leave little bruises from his fingertips, and spears his tongue in and out of your hole with abandon, his nose bumping your clit every few thrusts.

You’re a whimpering mess, fighting the urge to roll your hips into his face, one hand slapped over your face to muffle the sound. He shifts, lips working their way up to your desperately pulsating clit, and you feel your whole body seize with the change of sensation, a long, low groan emanating from your chest. He suctions his lips around your clit and sucks gently, then a little less gently, and your feet scrabble against the sheets, trying to find purchase.

His fingers enter you again, his spit and your wetness giving them the perfect slide, and it’s exactly the extra stimulation you need. He only has to pump his wrist twice, that delicious suction steady around your clit, before you’re grasping desperately at him - one hand sliding into his hair and the other finding his wrist and holding tight, which doesn’t stop him at all from pistoning his fingers into that spot on your front wall that has you unraveling faster than you ever have before.

“Fuck, fuck, Chan -” you gasp. Your eyes squeeze shut and your grip on him might actually be painful, a belly-deep ahhhhh ripped from you as the onslaught of sensation sends conscious thought spinning away.

“Shhh,” he soothes, fingers slowly but continuing to work you through it. You whimper, gasp for a breath, the room coming back into view. “Not so loud, baby.”

“God, Chan,” you groan, releasing your hold on him, flexing your fingers.

He grins at you, lightning quick, then kisses the inside of your thigh. “That’s my girl.”

You peer at him, boneless. “You up for more?”

He pushes himself up on his elbows, the triumph not completely melted from his face yet. “I’m up for whatever you want,” he promises. “You’re calling the shots here.”

“Excellent,” you joke. You reach towards him, barely stop yourself from making grabby hands. “Come fuck me.”

He damn near scrambles to obey. He comes up to kiss you, deep and heady, and you hook one of your legs behind him, pulling him closer. The head of his cock slides along your slit and you tilt, trying to get him where you want him.

You look up at him, feeling like he hung the stars, and whisper his name. His answer is a bite of a kiss as he pushes himself into you, stopping only when his hips are flush with yours.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he breathes, eyes closed for a second, as he holds himself over you.

“Please move,” you beg, needing more.

“God,” he groans. “Okay. Okay. I got you.”

And he does. Chan fucks like he moves - quick and precise, each motion purposeful. His eyes have narrowed with focus, brows slightly furrowed with exertion as his hips snap. He slides one hand under you to help lift you, the angle changing just slightly.

“Yeah,” you breathe, desperation lacing your voice. “There.”

The drag of him is delicious, and so is the feeling of his body under your hands, and so is the sound of his ragged breath mixed with occasional gasps and groans. It’s the fact that it’s Chan driving you even higher.

A crack of thunder sounds directly overhead, and Chan takes the moment to roll you over, laying back and letting you straddle his lap without even slipping from inside you. You whine as the new position drives him deeper than he’d been before, your hands splayed over his pecs. He’s breathing rapidly now, struggling to keep his eyes open as he continues to fuck you from below.

“I-I’m - so -” he pants, “close. Really close, baby.”

You lean down to kiss him, his arms coming up around your shoulders to pull you chest to chest until his strokes grow sloppy and his hands tighten on you. You kiss along his jaw sweetly until he releases you with a sigh. He kisses you once more before he pulls out, and then again when he returns from the bathroom with a damp cloth.

“I might need to actually shower,” you muse.

“Yeah, okay,” he says easily, nodding. “Maybe I’ll go after you. I smell like chlorine.”

You shrug. “Might as well just join me. If you want.”

He grins. He follows you into the bathroom, waits with you while the water heats up. And then he fucks you again, against the cool tiles of the shower wall.

Later, back in bed, you face each other through the dark.

“I should have said earlier,” you whisper. “But I’ve liked you for a long time, too.”

His smile makes you feel full of sunshine, even when it’s shy, even when he’s asking what you want to do about it. Especially when he’s asking you, "What are you doing next Saturday?"

Tonight, the decision to cuddle is made while you’re awake. When you wake up in the morning, sunlight streaming through the windows, Chan wastes no time in reaching between your legs, finding you ready, and rolling over top of you, pushing between your thighs before he even has his eyes all the way open.

When you both emerge from your bedroom, stomachs growling and with the beginnings of a caffeine headache, your friends are all sitting at the kitchen table, surrounded with the evidence of a breakfast come and gone. They begin a slow clap, eventually lauding you in a mostly sarcastic but still loving round of applause. 

“It’s about time,” Mingyu grouses. “You two have been circling each other forever.”

“Shh,” you tell him, as Chan slips his arm over your shoulders with a grin. “Not so loud.”

thank you for reading!!! <3

[firecrackerhh]

I have to wonder how much of an antis life outside of the internet has to be fucking miserable.

Because if there’s anything I’ve realized, antis are in 3 categories.

They are either a child, mentally ill, or they are an adult in a situation where they have such little control over their own lives whether it be due to disability or whatever else that the internet is the only place they can escape to. The only place they feel any sense of power.

Fuck, that’s just…sad.

That does not make any antis behavior ok, obviously, but at least it makes sense why they do the things they do.

Makes it all the more pathetic when their bullshit doesn’t fucking amount to anything.

Like, it isn’t like constantly harassing others online actually does anything to solve your own fucked up problems yknow? Distractions only go so far, eventually you gotta grow a pair and fix your shit.

I feel like being mentally ill online while being an anti would just make you worse off. Because it isn’t like the people you hang around when you’re an anti care about you, they aren’t actually your friends, they’re just using your mental illness as a tool to keep spreading their misinfo, and honestly I think taking advantage of someone’s mental health like that is fucking morally reprehensible on every fucking level.

The worst part is that the person they take advantage of thinks they’re doing anything of value when they’re at most screaming into the fucking void.

They can cry all they want about Viv or Rebecca sugar or that fucking She-Ra show or whatever the fuck pisses them off, but, pardon my frankness, they’re a fucking loser whose whining hasn’t done Jack shit, it never will do Jack shit, and it’s fucking sad.

I can’t imagine devoting my free time to something I hate so much I start legit thinking it’s morally bad for society to the point I think the creator of whatever show may as well be Satan incarnate. Once you reach that point maybe your phone should be taken away from you and you should be put in a fucking psych ward.

I don’t say that to be mean, I say it because it might be the only way these people can get help.

Perhaps the reason these people have no control in their life and have restricted internet access or whatever else is because the people around them irl know how fucked they are and they don’t want to make their mental illness any fucking worse, but clearly there’s no internet blocker that is truly foolproof.

The second you start accusing random show creators of essentially being the fucking Antichrist or you think Hazbin fucking Hotel and Helluva Boss are the harbinger of fucking doom that will cause society to collapse as if they are in any way influential enough to do that, that proves to me you drank the fucking Kool-Aid and the only cure is some strong antipsychotics if not a fucking lobotomy.

Because anyone who thinks like that has to be fucking suffering inside and it drives me insane to imagine being that mentally unwell and yet the people around you don’t do anything about it. Either out of ignorance or malice, I’m not sure which option pisses me off more.

I just think people like this need help they’re probably never gonna get, all because the people around them don’t actually care, I can’t imagine taking advantage of someone like that, fucking disgusting. Antis are horrible fucking people, there’s no amount of progressive language they can use to hide the fact that they’re rotten from the fucking core.

Maybe they’re the fucking Antichrist. Fucking wolf in sheep’s clothing.

[londonrih]

Hey I have trying to get my friend into the rookie she fallen in with Chenford what are good chenford eps you would recommend ?

Ooooooou👀 okay some good chenford eps, I’d say:

Season 1:

1x06 - The Hawke (Lucy steals Tim’s money clip. They have a flirty moment at the end, “Maybe you should glove up…)

1x11 - Redwood (Over-protective Tim! Lucy gets stabbed with a rusty needle)

1x18 - Homefront (A little Chenford date at the end🙃)

1x19 - The Checklist ( Lucy has a checklist of 7 different arrests she has to make. Tim helps Lucy complete the checklist even if it does interfere with their hours.)

1x20 - Free Fall (Tim gets “infected” with a deadly virus, and Lucy stays next to him throughout the entire process, big moment.)

Season 2:

2x01 - Impact (A bit of a continuation to 1.20, + Chenford angst.)

2x02 - The Night General (Audiobook *I have nothing else to say*)

2x03 - The Bet (Kinda clear from the title.)

2x06 - Fallout (Drinks.Drinks.and drinks!!!)

2x08 - Clean Cut (Lucy sticking up for her man as she should😌)

2x10 - The Darkside (Whoo babyyyyy)

2x11 - Day of Death (Get the tissues ready)

2x12 - Now and Then (Tim’s speech killed me, I’m not in my feels.)

2x13 - Follow-Up Day (“I haven’t finished training you yet.”)

2x14 - Casualties (“Some things matter more.”)

Season 3:

3x01 - Consequences (SO MANY DIFFERENT MOMENTS BETWEEN THEM, they’re insane. And also overprotective Tim era makes a reappearance.)

3x06 - Revelations (Lucy goes undercover and Tim ain’t here for it.)

3x07 - True Crime (hilarious chenford moments, this is a true crime heavy episode though.)

3x08 - Bad Blood (Lucy teasing Tim.)

3x09 - Amber (HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH I’m still hurt, thanks Lucy.)

3x11 - New Blood (Jealously, Jealously!!!)

3x14 - Threshold (So. Many. Moments. Omg. Screaming internally)

Season 4:

4x01 - Life and Death (This one’s gonna hurt just a warning. Big chenford moment.😉)

4x02 - Five Minutes (Lucy being a proud wife!!! She’s so happy for Tim *makes a crow noise*)

4x03 - In the Line of Fire (It’s basically Tim and Lucy missing each other without admitting it, idiots… in love, of course.)

4x05 - A.C.H (AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA UNWELL!!)

(Brace yourself this is where it gets a little….bumpy.)

4x06 - Poetic Justice (Chenford bet!! YAYY! What’s not yay?? uhm…unexpected guest.)

4x07 - Fire Fight (A little bit of Tim being shirtless in front of Lucy.😏)

(You’re gonna cry with these two.)

4x08 - Hit and Run (I warned you.)

4x09 - Breakdown (it’s named that because you’re literally gonna have a breakdown, whooo baby.)

(EUUEEHHSEHEHWHWJWJA….)

4x10 - Heart Beat (the unexpected guest comes back, and she brings a friend, and he’s a jerk! But, Lucy wasn’t subtle looking at Tim across the bullpen blushing and all, *go get ya man, oh…too late.*)

4x11 - EndGame (Chenford and Tamara, Lucy calling the jerk a clown, cause he’s an idiot💀)

4x12 - The Knock (😂😂😂😂no comment)

4x16 - Real Crime (Aaron centric BUT! Funny chenford moments, another true crime episode.)

4x18 - Backstabbers (AHAHAHAHJAHAHAHHAHA!!!!!! Unwell!!)

4x19 - Simone (Backdoor pilot, heavy Nolan/ Simone Clark (love her!) but also one funny chenford moment, a subtle look & and an aweeeeee moment.)

You’re all caught up, 4x21, is gonna be something. 💀 good luck watching that promo.

[ghostbc-headcanons]

YOU may want Terzo to kiss your hand but I don’t because if I did I would spontaneously combust, cry, melt into a puddle, and scream all at the same time

(I’m glad there’s barriers up at general admissions most of the time now cuz I would actually die if I got ciriced but like, in the best way)

HAHAHA PLEASE I WOULD ACTUALLY DO THE SAME THOUGH

even just thinking about it is making me go. unnecessarily insane. i'm so mentally unwell in regards to this man he's got my heart tied up in a neat little bow for him to enjoy