#staff i fucking hate you. give me BACK THE OLD DASH T^T

[coldshrugs]

hahaha wouldn't it be so funny if i forgot how to write?

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 6

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence, and a line that hints at past physical abuse (depending on how you choose to interpret it) Warnings: Mild TW for implied/referenced abuse Notes: Okay so this was supposed to be somewhat therapeutic? But it ended up taking longer to get to that part than I intended, so... Don't worry though, next chapter will be fluffy and also involve more, like, actual Daniela scenes. Previous Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2 Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco

Chapter 6: Elegy

(Elegy: A piece of music in the form of a lament)

When you dream, you do not dream of being locked in a tower, awaiting a kindly knight to come save you. When you dream… you dream of your old home, infested with monsters, nearly unrecognizable. Of being forced to flee, leaving everything you loved behind. Of escaping to a remote, quaint little village, only to end up trapped once again, as friendly faces morph into gaping maws and fangs dripping red. When you dream, it is less a nightmare, more memories retouched, covered in a fresh coat of paint.

Waking up is but a brief source of comfort. One hand goes to your head, rubbing gently, as if you could wipe away all traces of your past. A quick glance around your shared room leaves you confused, but serves as a welcome distraction. Though there are six beds in the room, yours is the only occupied one, the others having all been vacated and made presentable. The only explanation that fit with what you knew was that everyone had gotten up, and gotten to work, without waking you. Panic filled you as you connected the dots, knowing that missing work was a death sentence.

Rushing, you rise to your feet, throwing your dresser open to search for fresh clothes. While the castle’s staff was almost entirely female, the Dimitrescu family didn’t enforce traditional gender presentation, allowing maidens to choose whether to wear a dress or a button-up and trousers. Remembering the wound on your neck, you pause, glancing in the dorm’s singular mirror to inspect your injury. Most of the blood had rubbed off in your sleep (and would likely be a nightmare to clean from the sheets). There were, however, a few spots where dried blood mingled with the protective scab. Considering how late you already were, you didn’t believe you would have time to clean up.

As much as you hated the thought, the best you could do was go for a button-up, hoping the collar would hide the worst of your disastrous appearance. Your hair was another matter entirely, far messier than it normally was, and you struggled to brush/comb it enough to be mildly presentable. Good thing Daniela won’t see me today, you think, remembering her insistence on skipping today’s lesson.

Then you remember the rest of your conversation with her; the yelling, being dragged to your feet, and the pain in her eyes. For a moment you feel woozy, pausing in the middle of buttoning your shirt. Your eyes focus on a spot on the now-closed dresser… and suddenly you wish you had paid more attention when you first woke up. There’s a note stuck to the furniture, clearly addressed to you.

Heard you had some trouble yesterday. We’re just glad you’re alive! A certain someone has been a lot nicer since you started playing the piano, and we’re grateful. To show that, we decided to split your morning duties among ourselves, so you can sleep in. If you’re reading this, then it’s still before 4 AM. Feel free to just relax for a while, or even get some more sleep! We’ll be by to make sure you’re up eventually.

Sincerely,

Daphne, Rosalia, Ygritte, Alexandra, Juniper, and Riley

“I… have… freetime?” You mumbled, still a little drowsy, but now also shocked. This was a complete first for you. Maybe even a first among the servants! Sure, you had been given breaks before, but having a couple hours to do whatever you wanted? No one had ever pulled strings like this for you before. It made your chest feel warm, and you just about forgot the whole mess with Daniela. “I’ll have to find a way to pay them back, even if they think they’re paying me back.” With that said you relaxed a little, no longer rushing getting dressed, though still leaving your neck the way it was. You figured you’d stop by one of the maidens’ restrooms before you officially started your shift.

In the meantime, you knew exactly what you’d be using this time for: finding those damn piano books you had been promised!

-----------------------------------------

“Let’s see… dust, more dust, a dead spider, even more dust, and- oh shit, the spider is not dead,” you said, barely holding in a yelp as the arachnid scurries away from you. If you had known the attic would be so unclean, you might not have bothered to come up here. So far your targets had alluded you without giving so much as a hint towards their location. The library had seemed a likely location, but you had heard Daniela’s voice within, and anxiety had sent you dashing away. Up here, in an area clearly used for storage above all else, was the next best guess, as far as you were concerned. Still, you hadn’t seen anything worth your time yet.

Just insects, really. Not even terribly interesting ones. Well, there had been a shiny beetle of some sort, but it had crawled into a crack in the wall mere seconds after you saw it. Other than that, though, nothing but creepy crawlies. Creepy flyers?... Both, for sure. One fly in particular kept buzzing around you, weirdly interested in what you were doing.

Somehow you didn’t understand what that meant until a firm hand had wrapped itself around your neck. The grip was tight, putting more than enough pressure to make your vision blur. Thankfully, or perhaps unfortunately, the culprit didn’t intend to just choke you out. Instead they lift you and toss you aside- casually, at that. You hit the wall with a terrible crashing sound, certain to leave bruises, and narrowly avoid toppling into a stack of heavy crates. So much for enjoying some free time, you think. Stunned for several seconds, you find yourself left helpless as your attacker approaches.

“You’re not allowed to be up here,” a voice snarled, familiar enough to leave you terrified. Of course you had to run into the most violent of the Dimitrescu sisters. “Looking for a way out, hmm? Or are you stupid enough to think we’d leave a weapon where a wretched thing like you could find it?” Cassandra asked, pausing only to send a swift kick your way. A grunt escapes you, leaves you coughing, but it doesn’t hurt as bad as hitting the wall. Despite wanting to curl up and give in, you tried to drag yourself to your feet. Surprisingly, Cassandra makes no move to stop you, perhaps enjoying the sight of you struggling.

“Lady… Daniela… gave me permission,” you said between painful breaths. By the time you’re back on your feet, the vampire before you is watching you with narrowed, albeit curious, eyes. Normally it would take a lot of courage to face her. But you’re exhausted, in pain, and you’ve taken nearly as much hurt from someone who called themselves your lover. It’s not brave to stare down Cassandra, it’s foolhardy. It’s idiotic, really, and yet you find yourself unable to care. “I’m just looking for a couple piano books I’ve been told about, so I can use them to help teach Lady Daniela.”

“Oh? You’re her instructor?” Cassandra asked, a strange smile overtaking her expression. Something in the atmosphere has shifted, dangerously, but you can’t figure out why. Clueless to your self-betrayal, you nod in response. Instantly Cassandra’s smile turns into an open-lipped snarl, and she reaches out to grab you by the shirt, this time slamming you into the wall with her own hands. “Then you’re the reason she kept me up yesterday, crying non stop! I’m going to rip you apart, you vermin.”

The look in her eyes is, most definitely, the scariest thing you had ever seen. It’s feral, inhuman, and unstoppably determined. But when tears fall from your eyes, it’s not because you know you’re about to die. No, it’s because the last thing you think you’ll ever hear is the news that your partner had been sobbing for hours… and that you were the reason why. Your heart aches, both physically and emotionally, as you brace yourself for the bloody end.

Instead, the grip on your clothes loosens. You don’t dare open your eyes to see why.

“What the fuck do you want, sis?” Cassandra asked, sounding like she had turned her head away from you. Before you know it you’ve been let go, and you slide to the ground, too surprised to hold yourself steady. When you look up, you see an irritated Bela pulling Cassandra away from you, whispering something you can’t quite hear. They argue for a minute, under their breath, keen on keeping you out of the loop. Eventually the younger of the two storms away, but not before making a dent in the wall with her fist.

“What a child,” Bela said, rolling her eyes at the display. Then she’s walking back towards you, extending a hand in an offer of assistance (one you gladly accept). “That girl has the foresight of a magic eight ball, I swear. If she had actually killed you… ugh, I can hardly stand to imagine how inconsolable Daniela would become. Then I’d have two insufferable sisters. Regardless, do tell me why you thought it would be a good idea to come up here unaccompanied? It is normally off limits for servants, after all.”

“I-I, well… I mean, firstly thank you for saving me, I had no idea-” Bela holds a finger up in a ‘shut up’ motion, then puts it away as soon as you pause- “right, you don’t care. Look, I was just trying to find the piano books that Lady Dimitrescu mentioned, but I’ve looked all over and I can’t find them, so I should really just go,” you explain, eager to get out of the attic. To your surprise, Bela gives you an odd look before turning away. Then she takes no more than five steps, shifts to the side, and opens an old cabinet. Inside you can see a dozen books of sheet music, notably from several different decades, all worn but still in decent condition. “How did-?... I thought I checked there.”

“Well, you must have been distracted. Nonetheless, you know where they are now, and you owe me twice over. With that in mind… come with me. We have things to discuss,” Bela commanded, walking away before you could protest. All you can do is grab the sheet music, tuck it under one arm, and follow her to who-knows-where.

-----------------------------------------

“I’ll have to have you make my tea more often,” Bela mused, letting the mug keep her hands warm. The two of you were sitting in some sort of study, a room that you had never been inside before. From what you could tell it belonged solely to the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. Inside were several shelves, each filled with well bookmarked collections, a desk next to a massive window, a couple simple chairs, and a few instrument cases. All in all it was an aesthetically pleasing room, organized but not exactly neat. You could certainly imagine Bela spending entire days in this chamber. “Now, why do you think I brought you here?” Her voice brings your focus back into the present moment, as well as sends a spike of anxiety through you.

“Based on what nearly got me killed earlier… Does it have to do with Daniela crying?” You asked, doing your best to indicate just how bad you felt about the subject. No matter how cruel she could be, you did honestly care about Daniela, and even wanted a real, healthy relationship with her. Desire, or willingness, wasn’t the root of the problem by any means. Something told you that Bela understood this, maybe even respected you for it.

“Guess there’s more in that pretty head of yours than air and symphonies, hmm?” Bela replied, laughing a little as she did. It was a far nicer sound than Cassandra’s maniacal giggling, for sure. “Now, I don’t know all the details about what happened- just that there was an argument, clearly a bad one, and Daniela barely made it through dinner before locking herself in her room. Luckily for you, our mother doesn’t seem to know about your little ‘fight’. She’s not sure what upset Dani, and I doubt my sister would tell her, so your secret is safe. Assuming that I blackmailed Cassandra well enough, that is. Anyway, I can’t help you, and by extension my sister, if I don’t know the full story. In case it wasn’t clear, that’s your cue to start talking.”

You’re surprised, admittedly, by a number of things. But Bela seems impatient, so you go over the details of the previous night with her, occasionally pausing to let her ask questions. The whole time her focus is on you, unwavering. There’s also a noticeable lack of judgement in her expression, even when you voice your regret about how you handled the situation, and what is there seems directed more towards Daniela than yourself. Once you finish, Bela releases a deep sigh. One of her hands goes to rub her forehead as if warding off a migraine.

“Well, I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, as much as I wish I could. Daniela’s always had her head in the clouds, and it’s left her tripping over her own feet more than once. Still, this is certainly one of her bigger messes…” Bela said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to talk to her about this, aren’t I? There’s no way she’s going to process this correctly on her own.” This time she seemed to be talking to herself, gaze locked on her tea as if it might suddenly offer to speak to Daniela in her place. When the tea stayed silent, understandably, she returned her focus to you. “You seemed upset, earlier, about this ridiculous situation. I am going to assume, from that, you are genuinely interested in my dear sister. Normally, this would be the part where I drain you of all blood, and possibly keep your skull as a memento... mori. Yours would look lovely on a window sill, I think.”

She pauses, head tilting a little to the side, clearly evaluating your artistic value.

“However, Daniela appears to care about you, far more than her usual fleeting infatuations. So, for now, I have decided not to eviscerate you, you’re welcome,” Bela cooed, teasingly, enjoying the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Still, you were glad that you would apparently be surviving the day. “So I’m going to give you some advice, which you will take, and you won’t even owe me anything extra for this. Daniela is in love with the mere concept of love- and she has been for as long as I can remember. Romance novels are practically the only books she reads. It’s… embarrassing, truly. More than that, I get the impression that she couldn’t even begin to describe what love actually feels like. She’s digested so much of that written drivel that it warped her senses. Of course, the, ahem, situation we find ourselves in, here at the castle, has undoubtedly added to this effect.

“To get to the point, Daniela’s terribly, hopelessly clueless when it comes to things like what she wants from you. And so I take it upon myself, as her older sibling, to ensure that you understand. Moreso, that you are not dissuaded. If this is an actual chance for her to experience real romance, then it could make her happier than I’ve ever seen her,” Bela explained. The look in her eyes was incredibly soft, to the point where it made you realize just how much this odd little family cared for each other. “Don’t give up, don’t let her occasional infuriating antics push you away. Given enough time… I think the two of you could, I suppose, compliment each other quite nicely. But if you break her heart? I will pull yours from your chest and eat it raw. Understood?” Gulping, you nodded quickly, ignoring the feeling of heat rushing to your cheeks. It was one thing for Bela to want her sister to be happy, but another thing entirely for her to acknowledge your “suitability” for the position. “Good. Now return to whatever it is you maidens normally do. I have a sister to talk sense into.”

-----------------------------------------

Hours later, you stand alone in a display room, dusting various relics from bygone times. A trophy here, a bizarre art piece there, strange, unlabeled tools you can’t quite imagine are for wine-making. It’s a fascinating collection, really. But your mind is focused on other, far softer things. All you can think about is what Bela had told you, about how Daniela really is interested in you, and how she thought the two of you could make it work. After the chaos earlier in the day, this was exactly what you needed. Just some time to yourself, working quietly, thoughts all to yourself. Even your bruises bother you less, the pain fading out into the background. Considering where you are, though, it is not at all surprising that your peace cannot last. As soon as you finish your task you move towards the exit.

The door swings open, outwards, at your touch, only to reveal a familiar figure reaching for the doorknob. Both of you gasp, taken by surprise, before your gazes meet. Of course it’s Daniela. Who else would you bump into right now?

“I thought about what you said,” she blurts, suddenly, eyes wide and hands shaking. “We need to talk, yeah?”

[yehet-me-up]

The Problem With Wanting

Pairing: D.O./Do Kyungsoo x Reader (female)

Word Count: 16,160

Rating: (M) for explicit sex and swearing

Summary: Quiet, observant, and whip smart, Kyungsoo keeps Barada Pizza running behind the scenes. Whether he’s firing up pizzas in the large stone ovens or slaving away over paperwork at night, his focus is on keeping the business going. He’s kept his nose to the grindstone for years, desperate to prove his family wrong, and lately he’s forgotten how to look up and see anything else. When you barge into his life, a wildfire of a woman in disguise as a waitress, he finds that for the first time in ages he can’t look away. 

Part three of the Exodus Mall series! (Can be read independently, but you’ll get some extra backstory if you read the other parts first!)

January 21, 1997

An incessant buzzing wakes you from sleep and you groan, rubbing your hands across your face. You slap the alarm and roll over in bed, gathering the covers back around you.

A few minutes later the sounds starts again and you sigh, reaching over to turn it off. When you see the time your eyes go wide and you throw the covers off.

“Nine thirty?! Oh God,” you exclaim to the empty room and hop out of bed.

You always set two alarms. One for a decent time and one for a ‘you must get out of bed this instant or you’ll be late’ time. And after many years you’ve finally accepted that you’re the kind of person who will only ever get up with the second.

Your bare feet hit the wood floor and you shiver in the cold. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shuffle off to the bathroom to take a hurried shower.

Seattle in January is very different from Savannah in January, that’s for fucking sure, you think dejectedly. 

But your friend was ready to go back to her home state of Washington after six years away and you were desperate to break away from your Southern roots. She’d invited you along after she accepted her new job a few weeks ago and you’d happily agreed to move with her.

She started work at the beginning of January, at Simpson & Sons Jewelers, and you’d been living off savings until you could find work. She’d seen a flyer in the mall advertising for a waitress at the pizza place last week and you’d called right away. The man who answered had a big, happy voice. Said his name was Chanyeol and that you could come in that day to interview if you were able.

You’d dressed in a hurry and gone down to meet him. The interview went great; Chanyeol was clearly well loved by his staff and customers. With your positive attitude and experience as a server in Savannah during college, he’d offered you a job on the spot. 

The co-owner, Kyungsoo, was at a business meeting, but Chanyeol said he was sure he’d like you too. He went over all the necessary details and you agreed on a start date.

When you told your roommate about the job and the owners she’d just about had a heart attack. It turns out that she, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo had all gone to high school together in the area, and that Chanyeol was her ex who’d broken her heart.

You tried to tell her that you’d find something else, not wanting to put her in a bad spot, but she’d waved you off. She insisted she’d be fine and you’d gone out for drinks that night to celebrate your new employment.

The two of you had met at Savannah College of Art and Design freshman year. She was an incredibly talented art student specializing in metalwork and jewelry design, while you were a Southern former debutante who’d gotten in on your family’s connections. Not that you were happy about any of those facts.

Your mother always joked that with your enthusiastic personality and pretty face you had everything you needed in the world. She’d only wanted you to go to college to get your ‘MRS degree’ - an outdated Southern joke implying that ladies such as yourself, well off and from a good family, were only interested in going to college to find a husband that would make them a Mrs.

It frustrated you to no end, how instead of asking you about your hobbies, your interests, your thoughts, all she asked about was if you’d met any cute guys in class that week. She just about lost it when she found out that you’d taken a waitressing job on the weekends at a café on campus. It was a constant source of anxiety for her, that you’d rather spend your nights studying for your degree in advertising, or working, than going out on dates.

“Honey, with your smile you could charm a pile of rocks. Why would you waste that on something so dull?” she’d ask, agitated.

The two of you never saw eye to eye, and it had taken you days to work up the courage to tell her you were moving. In typical fashion she had wept dramatically, but eventually your father had come to your defense. He was always the sane one in comparison.

He reminded her that you’re an adult, and that it’s normal for a twenty-four year old to stretch her wings and try new things. And now here you are, a month later, in a freezing apartment in Seattle, going off into uncharted territory.

You’d spent the year and a half in-between college and now as an apprentice at an ad agency. You loved the creativity and the people, but the work itself had left you uninspired. Much that you hated to admit that your mother was right about something, you were definitely someone who craved human contact.

The late nights spent in meetings or coming up with ideas in your office just didn’t fulfill you like you thought it would. You honestly enjoyed working at the café during college more, getting the opportunity to make someone’s day with a positive experience.

You cut off the water after a frustratingly short time and rush to towel off your hair and your body. Since you’re the kind of person who favors sleeping in to getting up early, you’ve honed your morning routine to get ready in as short a time as possible. You could practically do it in your sleep at this point.

Bra, panties, jeans, and socks on. Into the bathroom to put on deodorant, moisturizer, a swipe of mascara. Back into the bedroom to put on your new deep blue Barada Pizza t-shirt, your Converse hi-tops. Into the kitchen to grab an apple and a granola bar. 

Back into the bathroom to run a quick blow dry through your hair with one hand while you brush your teeth with the other. Fluffing your hair out behind you, you dash back into the bedroom. Earrings in, coat on, purse on your shoulder, and you’re out the door. All in under 20 minutes.

Thankfully your apartment is close to the mall. You hum along to the radio while you drive, in between munching on the granola bar and apple. Pulling up to the mall you find a spot out front and head inside.

It’s just before ten in the morning and most of the stores open. A department store at one end, a book store, music store. You take in each one as you walk by on your way to the food court. You can see your roommate inside the jewelry store, helping a customer, and you wave when you catch her eye.

Barada Pizza is undoubtedly the heart of the space, dominating most of one side. It’s wide, open counter faces the center of the mall. The large stone oven is visible just steps behind. To one side is the back room, presumably filled with industrial storage and fridges. Several booths are off to the other side; comfortable seating areas with deep blue leather seats and dark wood tables.

Next to Barada is a vegan restaurant and a small burger restaurant. On the opposite side is a bustling Starbucks, a Chinese restaurant, and a rustic-looking pub that advertises ‘pub grub and billiards.’

When you approach the pizza place you can see one man working in the back, kneading dough along the wide stone counter in front of the ovens. Kyungsoo, that’s his name, you think. You walk into the back room, your steps echoing in the wide space over the faint music playing in the mall. He doesn’t turn at your approach, so you decide to reach out first.

“Hi there,” you say happily and he jolts in surprise. He turns, giving you an appraising look. He blinks in confusion for a moment before his expression settles into a frown.

“Oh, it’s you,” he says, disgruntled.

You raise your eyebrows at his tone. But you’re hardly the type to be put off by someone being unfriendly, so you push onward.

“Yes, it’s me. Hi,” you say with a grin and tell him your name. “Today’s my first day. Where would you like me?” you ask.

“Follow me,” he says bluntly, leading you to the back room. He shows you a row of lockers along the back wall, next to several industrial size fridges and rows of metal storage shelves. “You can put your stuff in any one of the open lockers.”

You slough off your coat and purse and hang them up in the first open locker you see. Several of the lockers are decorated with stickers and photos. You think to yourself that you can’t wait to decorate yours, but with a look at Kyungsoo you decide not to voice this thought out loud.

“Let’s get started,” he says and leads you to a narrow office in the back. The space is incredibly well organized, piles of paper in folders in a storage rack on the desk. Spindles of paperwork neatly aligned.

You spend the first hour filling out the necessary paperwork and agreements with Kyungsoo. He asks nothing personal, says no happy welcome, asks you no questions about yourself. You find yourself desperately hoping that Chanyeol will come in soon. Blessedly, he arrives a few minutes later.

“Welcome!” he says, leaning his head into the office as he takes off his coat. “I hope my boy Kyungsoo has been welcoming you with his trademark hospitality,” he says.

He comes back from putting his coat away and looks between you two, taking in your hesitant expression and Kyungsoo’s stern face. He grins and starts laughing.

“Don’t worry about him, he warms up, I promise,” he says to you and pats Kyungsoo’s shoulder. Kyungsoo turns to glare at him and he removes his hand quickly.

“Are you guys all set in here? I was going to give her a rundown of the opening duties and the register.”

“We’re all done here,” Kyungsoo says. He slides your signed paperwork into a folder and slips it into the rack on his desk. Without another word he heads back out into the store to get back to preparing the dough.

The rest of your first shift goes considerably better. Chanyeol walks you through the opening duties. It’s all things you’re familiar with. Making sure the tables are clean, the menus are organized, the condiments are all set out.

Barada has both dine in and take out options. Most days during the week Chanyeol manages the take out counter, serving customers by-the-slice and handling the take out orders over the phone and in person. Your job is to handle the dine in customers and fill in on the take out counter as needed; easy enough.

The menu is fairly standard for a pizza place. Three sizes, a wide assortment of toppings. Salads, breadsticks, sodas. Chanyeol tells you that what sets the place apart is the speed and the quality. With a laugh he explains that Kyungsoo’s a stickler for high standards and you believe him.

By the end of your first shift you’re comfortable taking orders, ringing people up at the register, and delivering pizzas to the table. You spend the day alternating between shadowing Chanyeol and shadowing one of the experienced waitresses, Delia.

When you leave at six o’clock Kyungsoo is in the back office, working diligently on paperwork. You contemplate sticking your head in to say goodbye, but when you remember his stern expression earlier you decide to skip it, at least for now.

January 22, 1997

Kyungsoo watches the clock, dreading your approach. He could have killed Chanyeol for hiring someone without his approval, but he’d foolishly given him equal ability to hire and fire employees all those years ago. 

It had never been an issue before, but when he’d seen you, he knew he was screwed. Chanyeol had been bothering him for years to let loose, to have fun, to date ‘for God’s sake.’

He hadn’t dated anyone since college, hadn’t slept with anyone in months, but if he could conjure up his ideal type – it would be you. He’d nearly groaned in frustration when he turned to see you standing there, cheerful and sweet, determined to be positive despite his cold greeting. 

The moment Chanyeol had appeared he happily passed you off, desperate to get back to his routine, his work.

His friends, his ex, even Chanyeol had never understood why he was so focused on his studies. It was all his parents talked about; get good grades, study hard, go to a good college. The undercurrent was always clear – make us proud. They’d never hidden their desire for him to become a lawyer, to become rich and successful.

After a year of college, pre-law, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His one act of defiance had broken his parents hearts. He’d gone to his uncle, a man who’d made money in real estate but who was definitely the black sheep of the family in comparison to Kyungsoo’s serious father. He’d broken down, admitting to his uncle how unhappy he was, how we couldn’t stand it any more, and asked for advice.

“You’re smart, organized, and logical, Kyungsoo. Why don’t you start a business?” his uncle had said, as if it was that easy. “What do you like to do?”

“What do I like to do?” Kyungsoo had laughed. 

He’d racked his brain, trying to think of anything he spent his time on besides school and the internships his parents had forced him into. He played video games with Chanyeol, he liked reading, but he couldn’t make a career out of either of those. Then it hit him.

“I like to cook,” he said tentatively. “And Chanyeol and my friends say I’m pretty good at it.”

His uncle had clapped him on the shoulder and that was it. Chanyeol was an easy recruit. He was more than thrilled to give up on his half-hearted efforts at community college to start a pizza restaurant with his best friend.

They’d both gotten jobs working at a local delivery company to save up money. Over the course of a year, under the guidance of his uncle they’d found a space, hired employees, and opened Barada Pizza in early 1995.

It’s been just over two years, Kyungsoo realizes with a shock. Two years since he’d started this business and three years since he’d created a rift in the family with his decision to drop out of college. It had taken months for his parents to start speaking to him and his uncle again. But the rift was steadily mending, in no small part to the success of Barada.

Thanks to Kyungsoo’s dedicated efforts, Chanyeol’s personality, and his uncle’s support, Kyungsoo had a thriving business. He’d paid off his uncle���s initial investment just a few months after opening, but he didn’t see it as an opportunity to slack off. This business was his livelihood, and he held it closer than he cared to admit sometimes; desperate for things to work out.

“Who wants to be with someone as serious and boring as you, Kyungsoo?” his ex had said, with the kind of brutal honesty that only comes when someone was drunk.

He blinks rapidly, remembering all over how hurt he’d been when she ended things. She wanted to go to parties, to have cute study dates at cafes, to have a ‘normal’ boyfriend. But first with his studies, and then with the business, words like ‘fun’ and ‘normal’ didn’t have room in his life.

“Good morning!” you call, walking into the back room. 

The high, pleasant voice startles him yet again and he turns to regard you with a blank look. You chuckle as you walk past him into the back, seemingly fully aware of your effect on him.

He sighs heavily to himself. He didn’t want to be so gruff and unwelcoming to you yesterday. But seeing you there only reminded of him of things he can’t have. Reminded him that happy, pretty girls have zero interest in dull, serious guys like him.

He slaps the ball of dough on the counter with probably more force than necessary. With another sigh, he braces himself for another day of working with you.

February 16, 1997

You yawn, holding a coffee in each hand, taking a sip of one in the hopes that the caffeine will help you adjust to your new early schedule. Now that you’re done training you’re on the opening shift five days a week.

The mall is so peaceful and quiet at this hour. The only store open this early is the Starbucks. For someone so energetic and excited all the time, you really love silence, so you can’t find it in you to be resentful of the early hour. 

Eventually you drag yourself over to the pizza parlor and of course, Kyungsoo’s already in the back, making the dough for the day.

“Morning!” you call out brightly and he visibly jolts with shock. 

You smother a laugh and come up beside him. He gives you a stern glare like always and goes back to his kneading. You’ve come to expect his silence by now. You set one of the cups down on the counter beside him and he stares at it like it’s an alien he should be afraid of.

“What’s that?” he asks, wrinkling his brow in confusion.

“It’s… coffee? Plain black. I heard you order ahead of me last week so I figured that’s what you like,” you reply, mouth twisting in amusement. “I promise I didn’t poison it,” you reassure him, patting him on the arm briefly before heading to the back room.

When you come back from putting away your stuff he’s kneading another roll of dough, the coffee untouched beside him. You shake your head in silent laughter and get started on the opening duties. After a month of this routine every time you work together, your curiosity finally gets the best of you.

“Is it me?” you ask bluntly in a cheerful voice, grabbing the tray of parmesan and red pepper flake shakers. 

He looks over at you in confusion. You cock a hip out and rest the tray on it, your other hand coming to your waist, staring him down. “You never talk to me, and every time I come to work it’s like… like I’m a giant thorn in your side. Is there something wrong with me–”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he says emphatically, cutting you off.

His gaze sweeps up and down your body before locking onto yours, a pleading look in his eyes. He winces and whips back around to start working on the dough again.

“You’re just… distracting,” he says with a breathy laugh to himself.

He doesn’t say it like you’re an annoying child, distracting it’s parents from their work. He doesn’t say it like something out of place, a crooked picture frame or a misspelled word, that distracts the eye. 

He says it as if you’re the kind of distraction he wishes he could ignore, but can’t. As if he’s distracted by you, in that way.

You take a deep breath – when had your heart started racing? - and regard his back with curiosity. “Oh,” you say aloud in surprise. 

God knows you’d like to push, to use the arsenal of words at your disposal to prod and pry. But for once you keep quiet, going about your opening duties as he keeps up his morning preparations. 

The weight of his statement hangs in the air between you, a living thing that worms it’s way into your mind. While you’re wiping down the menus you see him sneak a sip of the coffee and smile to yourself.

As you work around each other you find that you can’t keep your eyes off him. It’s like he prefers to be a shadow, to blend seamlessly into the background. To let Chanyeol be the voice and the face of Barada, while he works tirelessly in the background, as its heart. But after his admission, he’s all you can see.

You take in the sweep of his hair, imagining what it might feel like between your fingers. The lines of his face, the lush curves of his lips. With a blush you wonder if they feel as soft as they look. As you walk past him to grab another sleeve of cups you notice the cut of his body, his strong forearms revealed by his rolled up sleeves.

How did you not notice him before - the full picture of him – you wonder to yourself. A fierce desire rises up in you, to know more; to find out why someone like him would seek to remain just slightly out of focus from the world.

Abruptly you hear Chanyeol enter the store, as he always does, with a rush of energy. “Good morning Sunshine, morning Soo!” he calls out happily on his way to the back room.

You call out a greeting back to him, ducking your head as you finish cleaning off menus, as if your thoughts about Kyungsoo might be broadcast across your face. For all of his lightheartedness you know that Chanyeol’s much more perceptive than people would think.

The next morning you come in to find a large Starbucks drink waiting for you in your locker. You cautiously take a sip. The caramel macchiato is still warm, and just how you like it. You grin to yourself, glancing back to where Kyungsoo’s still working at the dough.

February 19, 1997

Two people you’ve gotten to know in the last few weeks, Baekhyun and Hitchcock from the movie theater, have declared that tonight is a night out on the town. The group is going to Shari’s, a local club that plays great music, and they invited you along.

The phone rings a few minutes before you’re going to be off. Luis answers it and a minute later he calls out to you where you’re restocking the toppings during a lull in customers.

“Hey Sunshine, phone’s for you. It’s Delia,” he says and tosses it to you as you walk over.

You put the phone up to your ear. “Hey, Delia. What’s up?” you ask.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry to ask you this. But my babysitter cancelled tonight and there’s no one else to watch Caleb for me. Is there any chance you’d be willing to cover my closing shift tonight? I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” she says.

You give a brief thought to the fact that you’ll miss out on the group outing tonight. But she’s a great co-worker and there will be other nights out, and you’re always ready to help out others.

“Of course, totally no problem,” you reply. “I’ve got you covered.”

“You’re a life-saver, thank you so much!” she says.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you say and hand the phone back to Luis.

You head back to the office to talk to Kyungsoo. He’s working through a large pile of papers when you knock.

“Hey, Delia had trouble finding a babysitter tonight, so I’m covering her closing shift. Is that okay?” you ask.

He furrows his brow at you. “But isn’t tonight the big night out at Shari’s? Wouldn’t you rather be there?”

You shrug. “Yeah, I’m sure it would be fun. But she needs me, I’d never let a friend down. Besides, the company here isn’t too bad,” you say with a smile. 

Kyungsoo closes every Saturday night and he blinks for a moment before realizing that you mean him.

He looks at you thoughtfully before giving you a small smile. “All right then.”

“All right then,” you repeat and head back out onto the floor.

March 7, 1997

He’s watching you again, unintentionally. In between sliding pizzas around in the large stone oven, his attention seems to find you like a homing beacon. Your hair caught in the warm afternoon light, your head tipped back in joyful laughter at something a customer said.

He tries to stop his mind from wandering, his eyes from roaming your body, but by now he’s realized it’s pointless. The energy around you is palpable, your joy and warmth contagious. He doesn’t know what to do with you, especially in light of his unexpected confession all those weeks ago.

He feels your attention on him sometimes and wishes not for the first time that he was more like Chanyeol. That he was easygoing, friendly, and able to talk freely with others. But you seem to find his crankiness charming, always smiling at him whenever he does ask you about your day or strike up a conversation when you run into each other in the back room on break. 

He has to stop himself from moving your schedule around so it lines up more closely with his.

You open together Fridays, Mondays, and Tuesdays. You open and he closes on Saturdays and Sundays. Every week he tells himself that those three days together are enough. Every week he knows that he’s lying to himself.

March 27, 1997

By this point even Chanyeol has noticed Kyungsoo’s distraction around you. He smiles every time he looks over and sees his friend paused in the middle of adding toppings, his gaze stuck on you.

He doesn’t say anything of course, he’d never tease his friend about the crush he obviously has. He’s happy that Kyungsoo is finally showing interest in someone after all these years of working his ass off.

Just last week you’d had an angry customer yelling at you and Kyungsoo had stepped in. Chanyeol had been completely shocked. In all the years he’d known Kyungsoo he’d never seen him move so quickly.

The minute the man’s voice got raised, yelling about how you were an idiot and how he’d specifically asked for no olives, Kyungsoo was over to your side. Stepping in front of you to talk down the customer, handling the situation.

He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it himself, the way Kyungsoo pulled you aside after the customer left. His hand gently reaching out for your shoulder, his soothing words asking if you were all right. Chanyeol would have bet a million dollars that Kyungsoo missed the adoring expression on your face as you watched him for the rest of the day.

May 19, 1997

It’s twelve thirty-four. It’s twelve thirty-four in the afternoon, he keeps repeating to himself. 

Desperately staring at the clock in the back room so his attention won’t be drawn back to you and the man at the nearby table. He watches the two black hands move around the clock face, trying to simultaneously block out the words he’s hearing and listen as closely as possible.

“Yes, oh my gosh. You have got to try the key lime pie there. It’s amazing,” you’re gushing to the man at the table.

He’s tall, even seated. Shaggy blonde hair, red plaid shirt on, skateboard propped up against the table leg. The textbook photo of a Seattleite. When Kyungsoo gives up and glances back, the man has his arm around the back of the booth; his eyes take in your body as you ramble happily about the insanely popular diner down the street.

He feels his blood burn, a tightness coming to his chest as this man so brazenly admires you. He’s going to ask you out, Kyungsoo can feel it. The thought makes him want to scream, but he’s helpless, watching from the back. What claim does he have on you? If you were uncomfortable he could easily step in as a manager. But against this benign flirtation he has no jurisdiction.

It’s like a car crash, he can’t look away. The voracity with which he wants to know your answer to the forthcoming question is staggering.

The pizza the man ordered is already on the table in front of him. You finish talking and turn away with a smile, saying, “Enjoy your pizza, let me know if I can get you anything else.”

“Wait,” the man says and you turn back. “This diner sounds fantastic, I can’t believe I haven’t eaten there before. Why don’t you come with me? Friday night maybe?” he asks with a smug grin, as if there’s no chance you’d turn down the offer.

You falter, brushing your hair behind your ears. “Oh, that’s so sweet of you. But I close Fridays actually. Sorry,” you say with a relieved tone that catches Kyungsoo off guard.

You don’t close Fridays - you open with him every Friday morning like clockwork. He grins to himself, a triumphant feeling rising in his chest.

The man presses on. “That’s too bad. What about another night? I’d love to get your number and we can set something up,” he continues hopefully.

At the second attempt you become more resolved. “Thank you for offering, but it’s still a no. Enjoy your pizza though,” you finish with a smile and walk away back to the kitchen. 

Kyungsoo picks up a pizza on the long board and turns to put it in the oven, knowing that the wide smile on his face will give him away.

June 2, 1997

The other cooks talk with each other as they make pizzas. Luis, Christian, Kim – everyone else jokes with Chanyeol when he brings over the order slips, talks with you and the other waitresses. Everyone but Kyungsoo. When he works, his focus is solely on the task at hand.

You wonder what it’s like to pursue one goal with such ferocity. To hold a singular thought in your consciousness like he can. You can’t imagine it. Your mind is always focusing on a million things at once. Chatting with customers. Trying to remember to call your parents on your break. Wondering what you might get up to that weekend with your group of friends Chanyeol, Baekhyun and Hitchcock at the center of it.

In the months since you’ve been working at Exodus you’ve found a great group of people. And of course you hang out with your roommate, who is still staunchly avoiding Chanyeol, making going out difficult.

But Kyungsoo, in your estimation, only focuses on work. He’s joined you all a few times, at the occasional party or movie night. But other than that his life seems to be all about Barada. Not that it bothers you, you admire him for it actually. If the rest of your life is a flurry of activity and words and energy, being around him is a pocket of calm.

You pick up a pizza he hands you and his dark, perpetually intense gaze meets yours. A rush of desire skirts down your spine, as it always does when you find yourself the subject of his focus, even for a second.

Over the past few weeks you’ve increasingly found yourself wondering about what it might be like to be the only thing he’s concentrating on, outside of work. If that ferocity of focus would extend to the bedroom.

You blink rapidly, taking the pizza from his waiting hands, and quickly rush off to deliver it to the table. You grin to yourself, shaking your head. Imagine that, Kyungsoo liking you back, you think wryly.

June 15, 1997

Another Friday night, another informal party at Baekhyun’s. A loose circle of people are scattered around on the couch, chairs, and floor, all talking and laughing. Baekhyun lies with his head in Hitchcock’s lap as they discuss something energetically. 

You’re sitting with your shoeless feet tucked up underneath you, leaning against the girl from Starlight Clothing as you laugh about her stern co-worker’s latest sarcastic comments. Kyungsoo listens to Chanyeol, exasperated as usual at his friend.

“Hey everyone!” Baekhyun says in his typical exuberant manner, sitting up suddenly. “Who wants to play a game?” he says and wags his eyebrows.

“Oh god, we are not doing spin the bottle again dude,” Chanyeol groans. “Last time I had to kiss Jongin. And while I am comfortable enough in my sexuality to admit he is a very handsome man, I have no wish to have a repeat of that experience.” Several people around him laugh.

“No, no. Even better. Never Have I Ever,” Baekhyun says with a wide grin. A few people groan.

“I haven’t played that since college. I am so in,” you say excitedly.

Baekhyun claps his hands together. “Finally, some support! Thank you,” he nods in your direction.

Everyone mumbles agreement and a few people grab some drinks from the kitchen for reinforcement before starting the game. Finally set, everyone circles up again in the living room.

“So how many are we starting with?” you ask, nestling your drink between your legs and holding up both hands.

“Is anyone going to explain this game?” Kyungsoo asks with a raised brow, looking skeptical.

“I’m glad you asked, my good man,” Baekhyun says energetically, clapping Kyungsoo on the back. “Everyone, let’s start off easy and say five fingers. Loser has to chug a mystery drink of my making,” he starts and everyone groans in disgust.

“It won’t be that bad, I promise. Now, everyone puts up five fingers. We go around the circle and say something we’ve never done,” he says and holds up his right hand officially.

“There are two approaches. The first one is to try and target someone specifically. For example,” he says and stares evilly at Chanyeol. “Never have I ever gotten drunk and tried to make out with Mrs. Baker at senior prom.”

Chanyeol throws a pillow at Baekhyun. “You’re lucky this is just a practice round or I’d share some of your terrible secrets.”

Baekhyun laughs hysterically and then collects himself. “Or you can take the second approach. Some general and broad thing that you just haven’t done that will get a lot of people. Like… never have I ever been to the top of the Space Needle,” he says with a gloating smile. Several people groan and put down a finger.

“That was just a practice round! Okay, let’s start for real. Kyungsoo my friend, the goal of the game is to not be the first person with zero fingers left standing. How does that sound?” he asks and Kyungsoo nods.

Minseok starts off the game and gets his girlfriend out with a targeted attack about never reading a certain book and she retaliates with an obscure band she’s never listened to. Yixing tags out most of the circle by saying he’d never learned to ride a bike. Chanyeol gets retaliation on Baekhyun by saying he’s never thrown up on a crush before.

Hitchcock smirks and looks around the circle. “Let’s expose some people here. Never have I ever taken a date to Somerset point.” Baekhyun and Chanyeol groan and put down a finger. 

She laughs and points at Baekhyun. “Ha! I knew it. I knew you were lying about never going there with Jenny Albertson!” Baekhyun hangs his head in mock shame.

The game moves onto Kyungsoo. Most of the people around the circle are down to three fingers, but he’s still going strong with five. He thinks hard for a moment. “All right. Never have I ever… gone to a high school dance,” he says with a wry smile.

Everyone in the circle whines and drops a finger. In the end Chanyeol is out first after you admit that you haven’t been to the famous Dick’s Burgers yet. Baekhyun claps in delight and rushes into the kitchen to come up with a nasty drink.

A second round is played and Minseok loses, but at his deadly glare Baekhyun makes something slightly less disgusting. Again, Kyungsoo finishes with all five fingers up, though you think that you’re probably the only one that notices.

It’s decided that a third and final round will be held. It’s even raunchier than the other two, given that it’s the point in the night where everyone is tipsy at best, aside from Kyungsoo who’s just drinking sodas.

“All right people, gather round. Who’s ready to admit some uncomfortable shit to their friends?” Chanyeol calls out good-naturedly, settling once again into his spot in Baekhyun’s La-z-boy chair.

You slump back into the sofa, leaning your head on Hitchcock’s shoulder next to you. The girl from Starlight on your other side goes first. She rubs her hands together and thinks hard, covering her face with her outstretched fingers.

“I’ve got it! This is getting all of you. Never have I ever made out in a movie theater,” she says with a grin, pointing at both Hitchcock and Baekhyun. 

They groan and immediately put a finger down, along with you and almost everyone else in the circle. The lone hold out is Kyungsoo. She tilts her head at him and snaps her fingers. “Dang, I really thought I’d get everyone with that one.”

The game continues and it’s Yixing who loses this time. Baekhyun cuts him some slack and gives him a shot of bottom shelf Vodka. As the night goes on everyone switches to water and snacks on chips and dip in an effort to absorb the alcohol.

You stand in the kitchen, happily munching and listening to Hitchcock tell the story of how Baekhyun had been caught making out at the theater in the mall back in high school by their boss. Your attention is drawn to Kyungsoo where he sits on the couch with Chanyeol, smiling slightly as his friend tells a story in his loud and booming voice.

You wonder about him, as you always do, but in a different way tonight. He hadn’t put down a single finger all night. You take a deep swig of water from your cup and resolve to ask him about it tomorrow.

June 16, 1997

Kyungsoo blinks quickly, trying to wake up his tired mind after a late night out. Chanyeol had pleaded a hangover and begged Kyungsoo to open for him and he reluctantly agreed.

He loves your cheerful voice in the mornings normally, though he’d never admit it to you. But this morning you come in looking determined instead. You set your obscenely large coffee on the counter and fix him with a stare.

“I’ve got a question for you,” you start.

He sighs and turns from the dough he’s kneading to look at you, dressed in a riot of colors. Pink Converse sneakers, baby blue jeans, purple Barada Pizza shirt, bright yellow headband. Your appearance is in direct contrast to the serious expression you’re giving him and he stifles a laugh.

“Yes?” he asks, folding his arms to mirror yours and leaning against the counter.

“Have you ever been laser bowling?” you ask.

“Huh?” he asks, confused. Of all the things you could have asked, this isn’t what he was expecting.

“I’ll take that as a no. Okay, have you ever been to Denny’s at three in the morning?” you ask, raising a brow.

He gives you a sarcastic look and you throw up your hands.

“Fine, another no. You didn’t put a single finger down last night. What did you spend all your time doing while you were growing up?” you ask. He abruptly turns back to his kneading, his expression shuttering.

“I’m not judging, believe me,” you continue, placing a hand on his arm to get him to look back at you. “I’m just genuinely curious. What did you get up to while other kids were out being idiots?”

He sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “Look. It’s not something I want to talk about. Let’s just say that my family was pretty strict growing up and I didn’t have a lot of time to go out and have fun. And I started this business when I was twenty-one. Since then, it’s been all I have time for.”

You think for a moment, fitting this information with your picture of him. An idea comes to you, and like always, you just blurt it out rather than giving it careful thought.

“Okay, that’s fair. So how about this? Let’s make a list of all the things you’ve never done and we’re going on a big summer quest. You have a whole lot of new things to try and I love… having fun. It’ll be the perfect combination,” you say and clap your hands together excitedly.

He groans. The thought of spending all that time with you would be both a blessing and a curse. Once he might have been able to resist, but these days you’re his Kryptonite. 

With a shrug he says, “All right, why not?”

You grin at him and it’s easy to see why Chanyeol has nicknamed you Sunshine. He thinks to himself that all the silly things in the world would be worth it if they make you look at him like that. You reach into your purse and grab out your order pad and pencil and start writing.

“Okay, so we know you haven’t been bowling or to Denny’s in the dead of night. Have you ever been skinny dipping?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him. He gives you an ‘are you serious’ face and you giggle to yourself. “Added to the list.”

“What else did we do all the time in high school? Oooh have you ever parked in the back of a truck and watched the stars? We know you’ve never made out in a movie theater,” you say.

After a beat you both realize the implication behind that statement, what it would mean if you added it to the list of things you wanted to show him this summer. You blush and look down.

His eyes dart down to your lips, fantasizing for a moment about what they might feel like against his. Did he ever regret not going laser bowling or skinny dipping? No, he never has. Not until he met you. Now here you are, with your list and a beautiful pink tint to your cheeks and with a sigh he realizes that he’ll be unable to stop imagining kissing you in the dark back row of a theater for quite a while.

“We can add more later,” you say softly. You swallow and look up to meet his eyes, your expression turning serious again. “Pick something. We’re doing one of these tonight. It’s Saturday, an excellent night to start, and I know that you switched with Chanyeol so he could sleep off his hangover. So you’re free. How about laser bowling?”

He sighs. “Fine. There’s a bowling alley a couple of block from here, I’m sure they do it. What time?”

“Well, laser bowling is usually a later in the evening. Why don’t you give me the address and we can meet there at like, eight?” you ask.

“Deal,” he says and you smile, putting your apron on and slipping the notepad back in. Throughout the rest of the day he almost catches himself singing along to the music in the mall.

Once your shift is over you grab your stuff and head out towards the mall. Kyungsoo and Chanyeol are looking over a report together in the back room. You smirk at Kyungsoo tonight as you walk past.

“I’ll see you tonight,” you say with a smile.

Chanyeol dramatically drops his jaw and raises his eyebrows. He reaches out a hand to your shoulder to stop you walking.

“Wait, wait, wait. What’s this?” he says and puts his hand on his chest in mock hurt. “My best friend in the whole entire world is hanging out with someone without me?”

You laugh and Kyungsoo pats Chanyeol’s shoulder reassuringly. “Sorry friend, you’re stuck on the closing shift. Guess you’ll have to miss a thrilling night of bowling,” he says.

Chanyeol pouts. “Aw, man. I love bowling. Laser bowling especially. We used to go to the old ACME bowl down the street all the time in high school.”

You raise an eyebrow at Kyungsoo. “What a coincidence, that’s exactly where we’re going,” you say. “See you later Kyungsoo.”

As you exit the store you miss the meaningful look Chanyeol gives Kyungsoo before he allows himself to be drawn back into the ordering reports.

The bowling alley down the block is exactly like the one you used to go to in high school back in Georgia. Cheesy early eighties designs on the wall, the paint peeling on the tables, a rusty popcorn machine from the dawn of time in the snack bar.

You feel a wave of happy nostalgia wash over you as you and Kyungsoo grab your shoes and find your lane. While you punch your names into the computer Kyungsoo grabs a big basket of fries and two sodas from the concessions stand.

He looks up at the scoreboard and laughs. You’ve entered in GRINCH and SUNSHN for your names. He gives you a sarcastic look and you grin back at him.

“Alll right ladies and gentleman, are you READY?!” a male voice booms from the loudspeaker. “It’s LASER BOWL TIME!” he says and plays some silly sound effects.

The lights dim down overhead and black lights come to life along the walls, interspersed with colorful neon lights that move back and forth. You look down at your shirt and see that it’s glowing in the black light.

Kyungsoo smiles, taking in the ridiculous and dramatic setting. You laugh and point to his teeth, which are glowing as well. He looks over at your own teeth and cracks up.

“Why don’t you go first?” you offer, motioning toward the lane.

He nods and walks over to carefully choose a ball. He walks up to the lane and rolls his neck, shaking his arms out. He swings his arm back as he walks forward and releases it with precision.

You stand there with your drink paused halfway to your lips as the ball perfectly spins and gets an instant strike. He turns back to you with a satisfied smile, the closest he’s come to being cocky in the time you’ve known him.

You set down your drink with a thump and hold both hands out toward the lane. “What was that?” you ask with a laugh. “You said you’d never been bowling!”

His handsome face breaks into a grin as he joins you at the table, popping a french fry into his mouth. “No, you asked me if I’d ever been laser bowling. Which I haven’t. But like the fascinating and lively guy I am, I was in a bowling league all through middle school.”

You scoff and narrow your eyes at him. “Fine, you’re saved on a technicality. I just hope you’re ready for my amazing bowling skills,” you say and saunter over to choose a ball. Of course you choose the brightest one, a neon yellow ball that weighs a bit too much for you.

You’ve been bowling many times before, but in high school and college the objective was always to bowl as seductively as possible. Playing a whole different game - seeing if you could get the guys in the group to ‘help’ you learn to bowl, rather than actually caring about scoring. But something about Kyungsoo makes you want to try.

Holding the ball as best you can you step forward, trying to mimic Kyungsoo’s style. The ball angles wildly and rolls into the gutter. You groan and turn around to see Kyungsoo is doubled over, holding his arm against the counter as he cracks up silently. With an amused smile you join him at the table. He waves a hand at you, trying to speak, but he can’t with how hard he’s laughing.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad,” you say with a grin.

He coughs and gathers himself, standing back up. His mouth keeps twitching as he tries to stop smiling. “No, no it was great. You’re definitely a pro,” he says.

“Well I’m glad I amuse you. You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you laugh that hard. It’s good to know you actually can,” you say.

“Ah, well I don’t mean to laugh at you. It’s just that you have a very uhh, unique style of throwing,” he says with a smirk.

“Fine, then. Watch out, this time I’m going to get a spare,” you say with a huff, walking over to the return to grab your ball. 

Your second shot goes into the gutter even faster and you can feel him laughing before you even turn around. With a sigh you walk over to grab some fries.

“Okay, ace. It’s your turn,” you say and shoo him over.

He gives you a confident raise of his brows before grabbing his ball. Another shot, another strike. You groan and drown your sorrows in a big handful of fries. The next two shots you take as hardly better than the first round, only getting a pin each time. Kyungsoo of course scores a spare on his next turn.

You grab your ball and turn to him. “Show me,” you ask seriously.

He almost chokes on his drink of soda, eyes going wide with surprise. “What do you mean ‘show you’?” he asks when he can speak again.

You hold the ball against your hip, giving him a sassy look. “You know what I mean. Show me how to bowl, o’ wise master,” you say.

He walks over to you, grabbing his ball off the rack and coming to stand a few inches next to you. “Start right about here,” he says and moves you up a few inches. “Hold the ball like this.” He shows you the proper grip and you do your best to copy it.

“Now when you walk forward start off on the same foot, it’s about building the muscle memory.” He demonstrates the walk a few times and when you’re finally able to copy it, he motions for you to try it out.

This try is better than before and you manage to get five pins. When your ball comes up through the rack he picks it up and hands it to you, standing close in the low light.

“Now this time try to spin it with these fingers,” he says and touches them lightly.

You almost drop your ball at the contact. You line back up and walk forward with renewed focus. This time you hit the remaining five pins; a spare. You throw your hands up in celebration and run over to hug Kyungsoo before you can think about it.

He staggers back a step as he catches you in his arms, his hands coming around your back to steady you. You squeal with excitement, pressing yourself against him, squeezing his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you say. “I’ve never gotten a spare before!”

When you pull back he’s watching you curiously, a smirk on his face. You quickly realize you’re basically clinging to him and step back.

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Let’s see if we can get you a strike next.”

You end up getting 78 points to Kyungsoo’s 215, but you do manage to get one strike. Next round you get 99 points to his 195, and two strikes. You pout as you return your shoes with him. “Well, it’s better than I’ve ever done before,” you tell him. “I’ll do even better next time.”

“All right, hot shot. I’ll be ready,” he says, pushing open the door to the parking lot, smiling softly at you.

July 7, 1997

You come back from a night out with your friends playing pool at the pub in the mall to see that Kyungsoo is actually on AOL for once. You log into the chat and message him, figuring tonight is a perfect night to check another thing off his list.

sunshinegrrrl9: of course you choose something basic like your name and not something fun dohkyungsoo: what would you prefer I go by, thegrinch? sunshinegrl9: ha. ha. very funny sunshinegrl9: what are you doing up so late? dohkyungsoo: working on end of the month reports. why? sunshinegrrrl9: i think it’s time you experience the glory of Denny’s at 3 in the morning dohkyungsoo: do I really have to wait until 3 am? sunshinegrrrl9: no, i’ll be nice, i won’t make you wait that long. sunshinegrrrl9: it’s 12:30 now, why don’t you pick me up at 1? dohkyungsoo: deal. see you then.

He pulls up and you can hear him idling out front. You check to make sure that your roommate is asleep before you sneak out the front door. She’s been asking questions about why you’re spending all this time with Kyungsoo.

In the past few weeks you’ve dragged him to a movie marathon at the theater, to the arcade next to the mall, and made him take you to the Seattle waterfront so you could finally experience it and so you both could go to the top of the Space Needle afterwards.

You’d almost even talked him into having a food fight one morning when you opened with him and Chanyeol, but he’d given you both a stern expression and you’d dropped it.

Your roommate reads right through your explanations about the quest, saying she knows that you’re just happy for an excuse to spend all this time with him. But as she’s knee-deep in her own drama with Chanyeol, you’ve both declared your apartment a safe haven from any boy talk. Unless it’s to discuss Leonard DiCaprio in the most recent trailer for Titanic, of course.

You open the car door and slide in, reaching as you always do to turn up the radio. He shakes his head and drives off for the Denny’s near your house. The place is half-full when you arrive and Kyungsoo looks inside in confusion.

“Oh yeah, this is prime Denny’s hours. You don’t even know yet,” you say and open your door.

The waitress leads you to a booth by the window and hands you menus. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asks in a droll voice.

“Two coffees please,” you say before Kyungsoo can speak. He purses his lips in disapproval. “What? Trust me, you’ll need it for the full Denny’s experience.”

He looks around at the brightly lit space, taking in the group of college students at a nearby table, laughing with each other, their textbooks forgotten on the table. The two men at the bar, obviously still drunk, trying to persuade the waitress to give them free pancakes. A group of men and women in leather jackets, clearly just beginning their night, are eating burgers and fries.

The waitress comes back a moment later, dropping off the two coffees and taking your orders.

“Oh yes, this is definitely an experience, that’s for sure,” he says and you laugh. “Anyways, how are you?”

You stir in cream to your coffee and sigh. “I spoke to my mom today and got the usual torture routine.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and raises a brow at you. “What do you mean?”

“Oh right, I keep forgetting you didn’t know me in Georgia,” you reply with a shake of your head. “My mom’s an old school Southern belle. She wanted me to be married by now, maybe even have a kid. She’s never gotten over the fact that I didn’t want her vision for my life. That I wanted more for myself than to just be a pretty face on the arm of a financially secure, respectable man,” you say with a sigh.

“Does she not see that you’re so much more than just beautiful?” he asks emphatically. He blushes, looking down at his coffee for a beat. “I mean, you’re so warm and kind, you take care of everyone around you. You make people feel seen, appreciated, and you’re smart enough to figure out what they need. And brave too, moving halfway across the country,” he says meeting your eyes.

You’re moved, amazed that he has been paying such close attention to you that he’s able to reassure you like this. To remind you that you have much greater value in the world than just your looks. 

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “Thanks, Kyungsoo. That means a lot,” you say.

“Believe me, I know all about family expectations though,” he says with a sigh, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Really? Tell me,” you say, curious to know more about him.

He starts telling you about his family and how they put a ton of pressure on him growing up, expecting him to become a lawyer. You keep talking, in between bites of the food you ordered. The conversation moves to your debutante days and in return you demand that he tell you about being forced to be on the knowledge bowl team in high school.

Eventually you order another round of coffee and then third. The crowd changes as the night goes on, the bikers and the drunks and the college students clearing out. When the groups of older men and women start coming in you look out the window and realize that the sun is coming up and it’s now after five in the morning.

You and Kyungsoo pay your bills and then sleepily head out. You sneak back into the apartment and fall straight asleep, still wearing your clothes. Before passing out you think to yourself how amazing it is that you basically talked all night with Kyungsoo, the self-proclaimed hermit.

August 1, 1997

“Well I personally think they’re totally underrated,” Chanyeol says from a nearby blanket where he’s discussing bands with Minseok.

No one in your group owned a pick up truck, or even knew someone who did. So you settled for driving out I-90 east for an hour or so until you found a spot to watch the stars. It supposed to be a fantastic night to watch the meteor shower, and out this far from the city lights, the view is spectacular.

You pour a cup of wine and pass it over to Jongin on a blanket next to you. On your other side, Kyungsoo is spread out on the blanket, resting his head against his hand as he watches the sky. You take a sip of the wine and then secure your cup firmly in the grass before spreading out next to him.

You try to find a comfortable spot, but it seems you’re sitting on top of a giant root. Twisting and turning for a moment you finally settle with your back as comfortably as you can with a disgruntled huff. Kyungsoo laughs quietly next to you, watching with amusement.

He scoots over a few inches and holds out his arm. “Just put your head here already,” he says with a laugh.

You move over next to him, sighing to yourself as your body comes into contact with his. You ease your head into the crook between his arm and his shoulder, your side flush against his. 

Everyone in your group quickly joins the discussion with Chanyeol and Minseok, about whether pop music is going to replace the grunge movement and what that would mean for the music industry.

But you and Kyungsoo stay there, watching the stars overhead. You can feel him breathing next to you, his steady presence a comfort. After a while you start seeing bright lights streaking across the sky.

“Guys, look!” you exclaim, drawing their attention.

They all ooh and ahh and you can hear them settle into their blankets. Kyungsoo sighs happily next to you and you turn your head to give him a smile. 

“Thank you for this,” he says quietly so only you can hear.

You reach your arm behind you, lacing your fingers with his and squeeze. “You’re welcome,” you reply just as softly.

As you watch the meteor shower it occurs to you that you should eventually let go of his hand, but he never moves to and neither do you. You only separate an hour or so later when Baekhyun finally starts yawning so badly that you all decide to call it a night.

August 14, 1997

“So if I was looking for somewhere to go skinny dipping around here, I’m assuming you’d be the one to ask?” you say with a grin to Baekhyun.

Hitchcock cracks up laughing, her hands paused in lifting the burger to her mouth. You have Wednesdays off and a standing lunch date with Baekhyun and Hitchcock downtown. You always laugh at seeing your friends out of their casual clothes, dressed up in their professional attire.

“Sunshine, you know it,” Baekhyun starts with a grin. “I’ve got the perfect place. When were you thinking of going?”

“This Saturday? Kyungsoo has the day off for some family thing in the morning, and I think I can talk him into it.”

“Perfect, let’s do it,” he says with a smirk at you and Hitchcock.

August 17, 1997

Saturday is a gorgeous summer evening - warm, clear skies. You all meet up in the mall parking lot at seven to carpool to the spot. The drive is about half an hour away and you all pile into cars, carrying towels, six packs of beer, and Baekhyun’s trusty boombox.

You’re wedged into the back of Chanyeol’s car along with Kyungsoo and Hitchcock while Jongin navigates from the passenger seat.

The Kachess campground is everything you hoped it would be. Warm evening light spills over the tree lined road to the lake, the car rocking as it goes over the bumpy, unpaved path. Every jolt of the car throws you against Hitchcock, who giggles, and Kyungsoo, who looks like he’s feeling something entirely different at your closeness. Your side feels hyper aware of every inch of his body that’s in contact with yours.

Chanyeol turns down a smaller road off the main one, so narrow that the trees brush his car as it passes. Eventually your train of cars emerges into a small clearing. The lake is visible just up ahead through a gap in the trees. Getting out of the car, you can hear the faint sounds of other groups talking nearby, apparently it’s a popular spot.

Chanyeol parks the car and you all hop out, excitedly talking about the evening. Baekhyun strolls over to one of the picnic tables in the clearing and sets up his boombox. Moments later the sounds of Missy Elliot’s new album starts and Minseok groans where he’s grabbing a cooler out of his trunk. His girlfriend pats his shoulder, laughing as she pulls out stacks of plastic cups and plates.

Baekhyun dances to himself, singing along loudly to the music as he proceeds to fail horribly at starting the outdoor grill. Kyungsoo shakes his head and walks over to take charge of manning the grill. You join the group at a nearby table, grabbing a beer and sitting down. 

Baekhyun laughs and takes over setting up the sides, holding two cups to his chest like Madonna, making Hitchcock laugh so hard she almost spits out her sip of beer.

Over the course of the night the group enjoys hamburgers, hot dogs, and plenty of beer and soda. Chanyeol tells a tipsy version of the story of how he and Kyungsoo met in high school during a miserable science class together. Just after nine the sun finally slips below the horizon and everyone starts discussing the impending foray into skinny dipping.

“Well I think we should split up into groups. Seeing you all naked isn’t particularly high on my bucket list,” Minseok says with a laugh and his girlfriend smacks his shoulder.

“Oh come on, it’s a great bonding experience,” Yixing says, tickling his girlfriend and she runs out of his grip giggling.

“I’m only in for this if I can avoid seeing any of your genitals,” Kyungsoo says sternly, folding his arms and staring down Baekhyun with a pointed look. When his eyes meet yours he drops his eyes, a blush forming in his cheeks.

Baekhyun steps forward, the resident skinny dipping expert, and holds up his hands officially. “Okay, ladies and gentleman, how about this? Minseok and his lady over there,” he says, pointing to a path off to the right. “Yixing and his girl the next trail over,” he says pointing to another path on the right.

“Chanyeol, Hitchcock, Jongin and I, as the experienced professionals here, will take the front and center path.” He dramatically points to the main trail leading to the water from the clearing.

“And our new recruit, Kyungsoo, and his corruptor can take the one to the left,” he says and waves his hand toward the only path on the left hand side of the clearing, dense with trees. The water is just visible through the branches up ahead in the growing darkness. “Does that work for everyone?”

The group cheers in agreement and begins the process of packing up the food into coolers, grabbing towels, and meandering off on their various paths. Baekhyun cranks up the boombox to the highest setting, the music echoing through the clearing.

Kyungsoo walks up to you with a nervous sigh, his towel draped over one shoulder and his hands in his pockets. You’re normally the type to strip off your clothes and be first in the water, but around him things are different. With him it feels more intimate, more meaningful. You hold your towel tightly under one arm and tuck your hair behind your ear with the other hand.

“Ready?” he asks gently.

“Let’s do it,” you reply.

He reaches out a tentative hand and you slide your hand into his. Together you navigate the branches and roots in the twilight. You trip over a hidden root and his hand tightens on yours, keeping you upright. Nearby you can hear Baekhyun and Hitchcock screaming to each other and the sound of furious splashing.

You follow Kyungsoo onto the smooth sand of the beach. There’s a few tree logs and you set down your towels. The night is still warm, but the breeze over the lake cools your sticky skin. You sit down on the log to take off your sneakers and Kyungsoo joins you at a respectable distance. Sliding a hair tie off your wrist you twist your hair up into a messy bun.

Kyungsoo and you stand up at the same time and wait awkwardly, both fully aware that the next step is to remove your clothes. His eyes meet yours and his lips twist into a wry smile. You both start laughing at the situation and agree to face away from each other to undress.

As you slide your shirt over your head and throw it on the log you can see his shirt hit the log next to yours in your peripheral vision. You swallow involuntarily, already imagining his naked body behind you.

Your shirt, shorts, and panties are quickly added to the pile and you clasp your hands together against your now naked body. The sun is now completely below the horizon and the sky has turned an inky royal blue, the stars popping out away from the lights of the city.

“Wow, that’s quite a sight,” Kyungsoo says behind you and you turn around abruptly, keeping your eyes above his waist. 

He’s not looking at you, but up at the sky, a look of wonder on his face. You grin to yourself, happy that he’s having this experience – even happier that he’s having it with you.

For a moment you stand there, trying to decide if you should get in the water together and how on earth you’d bring it up. But eventually you just decide to jump in first, while he’s distracted.

With a squeal you take a few running steps forward, bracing your hands against your chest in preparation for the cold. Even in the summer beaches in Washington are bracingly cold. The water drops off quickly, and after three steps you’re up to your chest in water. One more step and your feet slip out from you and you plunge under the water. You catch yourself quickly, windmilling your arms to propel yourself back to the surface.

When you break through, gasping a breath, you let out a huge laugh. You swipe the water from your eyes with your hands and sigh, loving the feeling of the cool water on your skin. You look around and see Kyungsoo watching you from a few feet away as he treads water to stay in place. His hair is slicked back and his skin practically glows in the night, a big grin on his face.

“I should have guessed you’d run in head first,” he laughs. “Just like you do everything.”

You splash him in mock outrage and he splashes you back full force, sending a wave of water over you and pouring your hair into your eyes. You laugh as you brush your hair out of your eyes.

“So, how is it? Your first time skinny dipping?” you ask and raise a brow.

He looks around at you, the sky, and the lake lit up by moonlight. He leans his head back into the water for a moment and you can see his wistful smile when he tilts back up.

“Definitely more pleasant than I was expecting,” he says, voice low.

You blush and look away, remembering all of a sudden that you’re both naked and only separated by a few feet of water. You try and think back to the last time you were completely naked in front of a man and are surprised when none immediately come to mind. It was at least before you moved to Washington, that’s for sure.

Maybe Ethan? Your last boyfriend in Georgia. You widen your eyes when you realize that it’s been over a year since then, and before him it was just a handful of fun short term relationships in high school and college. 

No one that makes you feel like Kyungsoo though. When he looks at you it feels like you’re the only person in the world.

A loud noise comes from around the bend, what sounds like Chanyeol screaming about “drowning,” drawing you back to the moment. Kyungsoo’s still watching you with that intense expression of his, just content to be in your presence. You love that the two of you don’t need words all the time, that you can just exist together. After a beat you start swimming further out from the beach, shivering as the cool water rushes along your body.

Kyungsoo joins you and you quickly lose track of time swimming together in slow circles around the area. Eventually you see a flash of lights through the trees.

“KYUNGSOO, SUNSHINE, WE’RE HEADING OUT SOOOON,” Baekhyun calls from the clearing.

The two of you swim closer to the shore and once you get to chest deep you turn towards each other at the same moment. It’s full dark now, but the moon is nearly completely full and casts a bright light all around you. If either of you gets out of the water, you’ll be almost completely visible. Kyungsoo motions you to the shore.

“Why don’t you get out first and I’ll turn around? Then you can do the same for me?” he says gently, trying to not to laugh.

You breathe out a laugh, glad that the potentially awkward situation was avoided. He turns around, putting his hands over his eyes and humming. You crack up and splash him in the back. The air is growing colder and you clutch your hands to your chest as you dash up the beach to the log that has your towel.

You quickly dry the water off your skin, twist your hair to get out the majority of the water and then wrap the towel around you. You slip on your panties and shorts and look at your sports bra in frustration. Somehow you manage to get it onto your damp skin and throw on your shirt. You put on your shoes and socks quickly.

“Okay, you’re all clear!” you call and sit down on one end of the log, turning to the side and covering your eyes with one hand.

You hear him approach and start toweling off, your body flooding with heat as you imagine him just a few steps away, naked. You shake your head to yourself, smiling.

“All clear,” he says next to you a minute later.

You drop your hand and he’s thrown his shirt and shorts on, his hair messed up from the water. With a grin you stand up and come over to him, holding your towel in one hand and ruffling his wet hair with the other, sending drops falling onto his face.

When you drop your hand you realize he’s not laughing with you, he’s regarding you with something much headier. You take an involuntary step back in surprise, but his hands on your elbows stop you from going too far.

You clutch the towel to your chest with both hands, desperately trying to stop your hands from reaching for him. The tension grows unbearable as you both stand there, so close that you can feel his breath on your face. Heat blooms low in your body at his nearness, and a crazy desire to lean forward and kiss him.

Your soft voice breaks the silence. A single word falls from your lips – his name, barely above a whisper. It’s all the invitation he needs. 

With a rush, he bends down and his lips are on yours. You make a small noise of surprise against his mouth, surprise that this is finally happening.

He pauses a moment, his full lips held gently against yours. Then he moves his mouth, brushing it more insistently against yours. You toss the towel away from you and close the distance, bringing your hands to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer. Your bodies collide and he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you, a groan leaving his lips at the contact.

For someone so reserved, he kisses like a wildfire. He slips his hand up to cup your face, holding you steady while he sweeps his lips along yours. Your wet clothes quickly heat up as you move against each other, a friction that makes you wish there were no layers between you two.

His hand on your back tightens, molding your body against his. You moan against his mouth and he takes the opportunity to lick along your bottom lip. You gasp in surprise and he lets out a low laugh. He guides you back to him, humming in satisfaction as you work your lips against his.

“WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!” Baekhyun yells again.

You pull back, dazed. Kyungsoo keeps his hold on your back and turns in the direction of the group.

“FIVE MORE MINUTES!” he yells back, a boyish grin on his face that sends butterflies to your stomach. He turns back to you. “You’re not getting away that easy,” he says in a low voice, dipping down to give you a kiss. You laugh against his lips.

“You know, I’ve never made out in a move theater before. But I’m pretty sure this is even better,” he says in your ear.

“Mm, I’d have to say I agree,” you reply and lean up to capture his lips again.

When you can’t leave the group hanging anymore, you grab his hand and lead the way through the trees back to the group. Though it’s dark and you can hardly see where you’re going, you know that his grin is just as big as yours.

November 1, 1997

The idea comes to you on one of your girls lunches. Something else that Kyungsoo has never done – a school dance. You think up the idea for an Exodus Mall prom and in no time, the rest of the girls are excitedly planning along with you. Everyone welcomes the opportunity to dress up and to either relive a treasured memory from high school or to create a better one.

Between the group you divide and conquer. Jongin reserves a room at the KOKO exercise studio that’s large enough for the event. Minseok agrees to provide the music. Hitchcock and Baekhyun make sure that everyone in the entire mall receives an invitation. Yixing and Chanyeol agree to provide food and desserts. Yixing’s girlfriend and your roommate make the decorations.

You do your best to keep things under wraps from Kyungsoo as a surprise. The prom is set for a Friday night, your usual date night. Well, your unofficial date night. 

The past two and a half months since you kissed at the lake have been an interesting dance. Neither of you has said anything official. Your adventures together still continue, they just now involve a lot more kissing.

You come into work one morning, holding an invitation behind your back. The last one that you saved just for him. He’s kneading dough like always, but now he anticipates your arrival. You still trade off buying each other coffee, and today he has your favorite waiting on the counter. 

He wipes his flour-covered hands on a towel and reaches for you. His hands find your favorite spot, just beneath your ears, and he pulls you in for a quick kiss. 

You hum happily against his lips and pull back to look at him. If you hadn’t met him before, hadn’t seen him so closed off and grouchy, you’d have thought this was how he always looked. His warm eyes glowing with joy, a contented, relaxed smile on his lips. But you did know him before, and seeing the transformation over the past few months fills you suddenly with a wave of love.

“Good morning,” he says, leaning against the counter, keeping an arm around your waist. “What have you got there?” he asks, nodding his head to your hands still clasped behind your back.

“Oh this?” you say coyly. “It’s for you.”

You pull out the invitation and hand it to him. His eyes quickly scan it and he looks back up to you, brow furrowed in confusion. “Will you go to prom with me?” you ask, grinning.

He laughs, looking at you with amusement. “Absolutely,” he replies and gives you another quick kiss before you start working on your respective morning tasks.

November 13, 1997

No one is really able to concentrate the day of the mall prom, but you all do your best. Kyungsoo agreed to close the store at five for the special event, so everyone could have enough time to go home and get ready. You head home with your roommate after checking with Kyungsoo that he’s picking you up at seven.

Your roommate is applying her make up when you arrive. Hitchcock comes over a minute or two after you get to the apartment, brandishing two bottles of champagne. Your friend from Starlight comes over, a long gold gown draped over her arm and a boombox in the other.

Your roommate chose a long black dress and everyone squeals when she comes out, saying she’s totally having an Audrey Hepburn moment. Hitchcock is wearing a body-hugging teal dress and you let out a wolf whistle when she comes out.

You change last. Your dress is floor length, deep red, with a slit in one leg. It flares out behind you. You leave your hair loose and wavy around your shoulders and pair it with a swipe of eyeliner and a red lip. 

Everyone screams when you come out of the bathroom. Hitchcock leans against the wall, holding a glass of champagne in one hand. She dramatically pretends to dab tears out of her eyes.

“You know he’s going to die when he sees you, right?” she asks with a wistful grin, looking you up and down.

“Who? Kyungsoo?” you ask.

“Who else? If he wasn’t already head over heels in love with you, he would be after he sees you in this dress,” you roommate says as she walks by, a curling iron in her hand.

You blush, an unexpected nervous excited energy settling in your stomach. A car horn honks outside and you look around curiously. The guys weren’t planning on being here for another fifteen minutes. You move your dress out of the way and walk over to the window. 

A stretch limo waits outside. Chanyeol and Baekhyun are leaning out of the open top window, waving dramatically. Kyungsoo and your friend’s date, Sehun you think is his name, are standing out front, looking dapper in suits.

“Oh my god, get over here you guys,” you say, grinning. “You’re not going to believe this.”

You open the door and the girls rush up behind you. Everyone screams excitedly when they see the limo waiting. Hitchcock tells the guys to give you all five more minutes to get ready and slams the door, laughing.

In a flurry of activity shoes are found, hair is pinned into place, earrings are located, and make up is finalized. You all take turns walking down the stairs of your apartment, making a grand entrance.

You lock the door behind you and put the keys into your purse. You can hear everyone inside the limo laughing and cracking open yet another bottle of champagne. Kyungsoo waits by the door, hands in his pockets, watching you with awe. As you make your way down the stairs he lets out a whistle.

“You sure clean up nice yourself,” you counter. 

His dark hair is parted on the side and slicked back from his face. He looks like he’s on the way to an awards show. The look definitely suits him, you decide.

When you reach him he takes your hand in his and presses a kiss to the top. You lean over and brush a quick kiss to his mouth. A chorus of ooooohs come from inside the limo and Kyungsoo rolls his eyes and grins at you.

The ride to the mall is much too short so you all ask the driver to circle the building a few times. Once you arrive you see that the KOKO exercise studio is completely transformed. The set up you did earlier in the day looks even more incredible at night.

As you head into the building you see that there’s already quite a crowd assembled. The mirrored studio reflects the shiny decorations hanging from the ceiling. Minseok’s selections are playing in the background and everyone is enjoying the food and dessert buffet.

After you eat you drag Kyungsoo onto the dance floor, laughing happily as he twirls you around before pulling you into his arms. The song switches to a slower tempo and you step closer, linking your arms over his shoulders, his hands come to your waist. 

He hums along to the song, a contented smile on his face. “Can I ask you a question?”

You nod. “Always.”

“Why did you do all of this? The prom, this whole summer?” he asks, carefully watching your reaction.

You look away and open your mouth to give the reasons you’ve been saying to your friends the past few months. 

“Because he was deprived of many incredible experiences and I wanted to make sure he had them.” 

“Because he’s a good boss, a good friend, and he deserves something light and fun in his life.”

But the words get caught in your throat. You can always lie to yourself, but if there’s one person you feel compelled to be honest with, it’s him. You duck your head, a blush spreading across your cheeks.

When you look back to him he thinks to himself that he’s never seen you so vulnerable and so hopeful. The love radiating from your face makes his heart feels like it’s going to burst.

“You know why, Kyungsoo,” you say. Your voice is soft, a small, wistful smile on your face.

“I think I do. But would you say it for me? Please, I have to know for sure,” he says urgently.

“Because I love you,” you say with a shrug and a tilt of your head, the words free of doubt or fear. A giddy laugh escapes from you. After thinking the words for so many weeks it feels surreal to finally be saying them out loud.

He looks so shocked, you think he would have looked less surprised if you’d slapped him. He furrows his brow adorably and you stifle a giggle. His hands come to gently cup your elbows. He meets your gaze with renewed intensity.

“Say it again, please Sunshine. Say it again,” he whispers, so close to you his breath brushes your cheeks. You smile to yourself, the nickname sounding like the most intimate of endearments coming from him.

“I love you Doh Kyungsoo, every wild, crazy inch of me,” you say and your breath hitches. 

The truth of the words filling every part of your body. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact time it happened, but his happiness has become as important to you as your own.

A brilliant smile blooms on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners with warmth. He brushes the hair out of your face and tucks it behind your ear.

“This whole time I’ve been falling in love with you. But I was afraid that this was just something fun for you. A quest. Something to fill your nights with. I never dreamed that you’d feel the same way about me,” he says in a rush, holding your gaze.

“I love you Sunshine. With all my heart,” he says, voice low and full of emotion.

You pull him into a hug, resting your forehead against his neck, feeling happy tears welling up in your eyes. He holds you close, running his hands up and down your back as you sway to the music. After a few minutes you pull back, dabbing your eyes and you smile at each other. Tentatively at first, and then fully.

“Would you come home with me tonight?” he asks with a wry smile.

You laugh and press a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, absolutely.”

You, Kyungsoo, and your friends dance the night away and by midnight you’re all considerably more disheveled than when you arrived, but it’s completely worth it. Kyungsoo pulls Chanyeol aside and asks if he wouldn’t mind crashing on Baekhyun’s couch tonight and he gives you both a wide grin.

“All right kids, now don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says with faux seriousness and you roll your eyes at him.

Once the evening is over you go with Kyungsoo in his car, his hand holding yours as he drives. He pulls up out front of the apartment he shares with Chanyeol and he lets out a groan.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he rubs his hand over his face.

“Uhh, I just realized… if we’re planning on doing certain activities tonight… I don’t really have the necessary precautions,” he says and gives you a knowing look.

A beat later you let out a laugh. “Ohhh, you mean condoms? Shit, I don’t have any either,” you say, unable to contain your grin. “Let’s go get some, there’s got to be a drug store around here.”

He looks down at his suit and over at your long, elegant dress and gives you a wry smile. “All right, princess, let’s go.”

After a few blocks you see a Rite Aid up ahead and pull up out front. He meets you around the front of the car and clasps his hand around yours. You run into the store together, laughing. The night staff, an older man and woman at the register regard you curiously as you hurry past them.

You reach the aisle and stand there staring at the wide array of options.

“Oh my gosh, I just realized we’re sleeping together for the first time on prom night. How cliché of us,” you say with a giggle. “Although, it’s not too stereotypical - I’m not a virgin.”

“Neither am I,” he says with a laugh.

“I wish it had been with someone like you, though,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Someone like me?” he says, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

You look down at the floor, trying to figure out how to put how he makes you feel into words. “Yeah, someone strong, and steady. And safe.”

He lets out a laugh. “Safe? That sounds awfully similar to boring.”

“No, no. You don’t understand,” you say emphatically, coming to stand fully in front of him, grabbing his other hand as well. “You never ask me to be anything but who I am. You’re patient, kind, caring. For the longest time I thought that falling in love would be stifling. That it would… I don’t know, take my independence. Take my spirit. Make me into someone I don’t recognize.”

You step closer, holding his face in your hands. “But I can’t think of anything I want more than to be with you. You make me the best version of who I am. I don’t know how it is for you, being with me. But when I’m with you, it just feels like… home,” you finish gently.

He gives you a brilliant smile, leaning forward to capture your lips with his for a long moment. “Hmm, how do I feel when I’m with you,” he says, considering. 

“Like I’m simultaneously on fire and completely at peace, if that makes sense. You make me much less cranky, which I’m sure everyone appreciates,” he says and you laugh. “I can’t imagine my life without you, and to have you be mine? I’d consider myself the luckiest man in the world.”

“Well guess what? I’m all yours,” you say and he picks you up, spinning you around.

You squeal and cling to him. The workers at the register lean over to look at you and roll their eyes. He sets you down and you peruse the display with greater focus. Eventually you decide and bring your selection to the register. The older clerk stares you down with a wry smile as she rings you up. 

Once she hands you the bag you dash back out into the parking lot and drive to his apartment as quickly as you can.

He runs up the steps with you right behind him. Once you’re through the door he kicks it behind him and comes up to you. He bends down and picks you up, a hand under your knees and one under your shoulders. You squeal and laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck to hold on. He reaches the bedroom at the end of the hall and flicks on the light with his elbow before gently setting you down.

You regard each other for a moment. Holding his gaze, you kick off your heels and pull your hair to one side. You turn around and look at him over your shoulder. He steps up behind you, running his hand along the delicate skin at the base of your neck and down to the zipper. 

His finger brushes along your back as he draws it down and a shiver of anticipation runs down your spine.

His hands slide inside the fabric and push it gently off your shoulder. The dress pools at your feet and you step out, clad in only your red satin bra and panties. He stares hungrily at your body, running his hand along his lower lip. 

You move the dress to the side with your foot and step up to him. “My turn,” you say with a sly smile.

You slip off his jacket and toss it on the chair by the bed. You do your best to untie his tie, but can’t seem to work out the knot. He chuckles and helps you out, slipping it off easily. You unbutton his shirt slowly and add it to the pile. He strips off his undershirt while you make quick work of his pants. Once he’s down to his boxer-briefs he pulls you to him, trailing a line of kisses down your neck and along your shoulder.

You moan, leaning your head back and holding onto his waist for support. He turns, moving to sit on the bed and pulling you on top of him. You let out a hiss of pleasure as his erection comes into contact with your clothed core. 

He stills, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation. You take the moment to unhook your bra, sliding it down your arms and throwing it behind you. When he looks back at your naked chest his eyes go wide and darken with desire.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman,” he says with a chuckle.

You grin and grind on his lap, sucking in a breath at how good he feels. He slides his hands to the backs of your thighs and twists, dropping you down onto the mattress on your back as you squeal and cling to him. He settles between your legs, his lean body flush against yours.

He bends down to slide his mouth over yours and starts slowly rocking his hips. You clutch his back, letting out needy whines against his open mouth. He smiles against your lips and draws a hand up to massage that sensitive spot behind your ear. After weeks of making out, you’re helpless against him, you realize with a laugh, he already knows all your weaknesses.

“Okay, now you’re going to kill me,” you say and breathe out a sigh.

He laughs and pulls back to look you in the eye, trailing a hand down your body to play with the edge of your panties. You feel a rush of heat to your core, desperate for his touch any way you can have it. His finger dips below the fabric and runs along your slit.

Your mouth falls open and you shut your eyes in pleasure. He continues his assault, trailing two fingers up and down, before slowly circling your clit. You clench your legs together around his hand and bite your lip.

“You’re so ready for me,” he says in amazement. “I don’t think I’m going to last long.”

You open your eyes to give him a sarcastic look. “Then it really would be like prom night,” you tease.

He gives you a devilish grin and slides a finger into you. You choke out a laugh. “Mercy, please,’ you plead with a high voice. ‘I need you inside me, like, yesterday.’

He withdraws his finger and carefully works off your underwear, moving your legs to the side so he can slip them off before throwing them on the floor. He looks around the room for the bag, finally finding it underneath your dress on the floor. He pulls out a condom and sheaths himself after sliding his underwear off.

When he positions himself above you again, you feel his heat against your core and bite your lip in anticipation. He bends down and kisses you, his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth as he braces himself on the bed. You clutch his arms to ground yourself as he eases inside you, groaning into each other’s mouths as he fills you to the hilt.

A beat later he starts to move, setting a steady pace. After months of only getting off with your own hands, he feels so good you could cry. He tilts his body over yours, the change in angle bringing him into contact with your clit with every thrust. You whimper into his mouth, a high keening sound, and grip his arms tightly. 

You pull back, resting your forehead against his. “Come with me,” you plead, breathing heavy.

He nods, panting. “I’m so close, are you?” he asks, eyes half closed in pleasure.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur in assent, hardly able to speak. “If you touch me, I’ll lose it in a heartbeat.”

He grins and leans up. His finger finds your clit, swirling messy circles as he thrusts faster and harder into you. Your orgasm rips through you, a strangled cry leaving your lips. He finds his completion right behind you, letting out a deep groan. 

You stay there for several minutes, his weight on top of you grounding you as the world swims back into focus.

He presses a kiss to your lips and then eases himself out of you. He gets out of bed and disposes of the condom. Turning off the light, he throws back the covers, getting underneath. He holds them open for you. You follow and he pulls you to his chest, kissing your forehead. 

“So, what did you think of your first prom?” you ask, stifling a yawn.

He laughs, snuggling against you. “It was perfect, Sunshine.”

[generalmajorlieutenant]

Flirty Scott and heartbroken Kaidan

Sitting here on my couch and I thought to myself “oh my god Scott met Kaidan of course but how??” and after some contemplation it became “Scott’s 19, he’s trying to flirt with THE Kaidan Alenko and Kaidan’s a little buzzed, a lot heartbroken (his boyfriend is still dead I think), and his voice cracks when he speaks, so Scott and Kaidan end up in tears over lost loves. Kind of because Scott’s too young to REALLY have had a love like Kaidan and Shepard”

I like to think that if Scott were ever kissed by Kaidan or Shepard they would say, “No one will ever believe you.” And they’d be so right Scott would cry a little bit.

He sat alone at the bar, head bent over a whiskey with the look of a man who had lost everything. Scott was too tipsy to understand, too excited to notice, and maybe too self-centered to really look at the tears the commander was desperately fighting.

Scott spilled his drink on an unsuspecting dancer in his hurry to get to Sara. He was gone before an apology or confrontation would be needed.

He slammed into his sister with his eyes still locked on the man at the bar.

“Is that him?” Scott had to shout to be heard over the pounding bass and constant chatter of others struggling to speak.

“Who?”

Scott grabbed her face and pushed her cheeks together in an effort to turn her towards the bar. “Man in the corner with a whiskey. Is that Kaidan Alenko?”

“Looks like... But he doesn’t seem—Scott!“

Scott was slipping through the crowd, disregarding any sober words of advice Sara could offer him.

The Kaidan Alenko. The man Scott had idolized and admired since sixteen. The biotic standard he’d been taught to live up to. He’d die happy if he could just touch the man’s shoulder—he’d even take a simple fuck off. Kaidan was so far out of his league he wasn’t even playing on the same field, but Scott had lived a life of rejection and knew how to roll with the punches.

Scott reached him just as he prepared to finish off his glass.

Break the ice... He slipped in beside Kaidan and leaned forward, propping his head on his hand and offering a smile he hoped was inviting, but in actuality it was still a work in progress. He hadn’t nailed the spice it needed yet.

“You owe me a drink,” Scott started, his smile growing when Kaidan looked at him once, a passing glance of disinterest, then looked again. Surprise was an unusual response, but Scott didn’t ponder it.

“And why is that?”

He nearly melted then and there. Kaidan’s voice was raspy and soft, an invitation and excuse to lean closer so that he could hear.

“Because when I looked at you, I dropped mine.”

Kaidan choked on his whiskey and almost dropped his own glass, tears springing to his eyes as he coughed and worked for air.

Not how Scott had wanted that to go, but he did get to hear a bit of startled laughter as he hissed apologies and pounded on Kaidan’s back.

When the coughing fit subsided, Scott offered his hand and a smaller smile, trying to ignore the sudden insecurity. “I’m Scott.” Omit the last name. That was a hard habit to break—considering half of his pickup lines stemmed from his surname. But Kaidan was Alliance, and the Ryder name was now officially blacklisted. And that was very public knowledge.

“Kaidan. Are you even old enough to drink?” Ouch. A dig Scott forgave when Kaidan took his hand. It was no more than a slight shake and squeeze, a professional handshake, but Scott still committed the warmth and grip to memory.

“I’ve been drinking for four years.” A vague response that gave nothing solid away in case this could come back to bite him in the ass.

His answer at least got him another laugh, though this one broke the pleasant buzz. Just a bit. It wasn’t necessarily a happy laugh.

“Try again, kid.” Kaidan looked away for a moment to signal the bartender, one drink, not two, and he didn’t look back at Scott. Disinterested? Maybe. Too vague of a refusal for Scott to give up, however. “If I had to guess, you’re seventeen.”

“Twenty.” Scott argued.

“Nineteen.”

Scott hummed and leaned closer, trying to catch the older man’s eyes again. He was more... weathered... than he was on vids. The beginnings of little creases around his eyes, not the start of laugh lines, and his lips were more prone to frown than smile.

There was something unbearably sad in his expression.

“A drink a day is good for the heart,” Scott pressed, though he didn’t really care about the drink anymore. Not that he ever had. He wanted to see Kaidan smile again, and he wanted it to be real. “Speaking of which, my heart was just stolen. Got an extra?”

“That’s funny,” Kaidan said, nodding his thanks as the bartender placed another whiskey in front of him. “Mine was just broken.”

That woke him up, and the look on the commander’s face finally settled in.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Scott reached out, wanting to place a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder but thought better at the last second. “The last guy I dated, he thought a good way to break it off was in front of, like, our entire unit. And then we were stationed together, right, and he planned it so that we would have to work together afterwards because he didn’t really give a shit about the relationship, or me, but he was an asshole and knew I had, and that it would make it really uncomfortable and hurt, you know, to work with him every single day.”

Kaidan took a sip of his drink and nodded along. “Sounds like an asshole. Might have you beat though. Mine died.”

That was a blow. Scott collapsed on the bar stool and tried to fight the tears that sprang up. Too many drinks, it made him unfortunately emotional. He’d never drink more than two ever again. He didn’t stop himself from putting a hand on Kaidan’s shoulder this time, maybe trying to steady both himself and comfort a man who didn’t know him. Had nothing to do with him. Would never think about him again when he walked away. Who seemed so surprised he’d said that to a nosy kid at a bar.

“Holy shit, that sucks,” Scott managed, voice shaking enough to get Kaidan’s attention. He looked shocked for a moment, definitely uncomfortable, but then he offered an equally unsteady smile.

“It happens.” All he said, and Scott was certain it was rehearsed. Like he’d had to stare at himself in the mirror and repeat that over and over again until he really believed it.

Scott couldn’t stand it.

“Fuck that! I’d be so fucking mad if my boyfriend died on me!” Scott burst, surprised by his own anger, and ignored the curious disbelief that colored Kaidan’s face. “I mean, I’d be sad, definitely, and probably really messed up, but also really mad! Aren’t you mad?”

Kaidan was speechless for several moments, staring at Scott like he’d grown another head. But then his lips twitched into something of a grin and he took a swallow of his drink. “He’s dead, Scott. And it wasn’t exactly the first time he’d done something life threatening. Comes with the territory when you’re protecting the galaxy. Are you crying?”

“Of course I’m fucking crying! Dying is, like, permanent!” Scott dropped forward, forehead hitting the bar with a definite thump, but he didn’t notice any ache that followed.

Kaidan rubbed hesitant circles into his back, obviously uncomfortable but not leaving just yet. Scott turned his head to look, ignoring the slight stickiness of the bar top and wiping furiously at the tears.

“Did you love him?” Maybe too abrupt, maybe inappropriate, maybe any other man would have punched him right in the face, but Kaidan only smiled and nodded. “He’s an asshole for leaving you.”

“Maybe,” Kaidan conceded with a slight nod.

“What was his name?”

Maybe too nosy, but Scott was nosy, and he knew Kaidan wanted to talk. Could see it in his eyes, even when tears started to build.

“John Shepard.” He voice broke over the name, pulled at Scott’s gut and brought new tears he didn’t bother with. Kaidan rushed to rub his away, barely letting them break free before they were gone.

“Of fucking course… hottest man in the galaxy, after you,” Scott snorted, choking on laughter and finally sitting up and using his t-shirt to wipe his face off. “You know, it was actually kind of obvious,” he said after a moment of contemplation, thinking back on press conferences and interviews.

Kaidan arched his eyebrows, a silent inquiry for elaboration, as he took a sip of whiskey. After a moment of thought, he slid it to Scott and looked away.

Scott hated whiskey, but he drank gratefully. Alcohol was alcohol.

“You could see it in the interviews. The way you looked at him, how he looked at you,” Scott explained, managing a smile when Kaidan snatched the empty glass back from him with a huff.

“How he looked at me?” Kaidan asked, but the sneer that followed seemed to really drive his disbelief home.

He didn’t even know it and now Shepard’s dead. The thought brought on a new bout of tears, the result of both anger and incredible sympathy. Sadness. It’s not fair. Kaidan had had someone who had really loved him, and who he’d loved, and the universe ripped him from the world.

He wasn’t the most attractive crier. But Kaidan rubbed his back even as his breath hitched and his nose got all stuffy, and his face was probably blotchy and gross... He’d need to get really drunk to forget how he sobbed in front of Kaidan Alenko.

“I would kill to have a guy look at me like Shepard looked at you. Like you were his life.” Scott realized he probably sounded like a pouting child, but he couldn’t stop and didn’t really care to. “But I fall for liars and cheats, not dashing rogue heroes.”

Kaidan considered him carefully, not irritated but kind and intrigued. “Shepard was just a man, you know. A liar with a temper. He was human.”

“Probably,” Scott snorted. “I didn’t think when I hit on Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko he’d cry—”

“Hey! I resent that. Three tears, three, while you were sobbing.”

“But it’s nice to know you’re human. Not some god on a vid. Makes you a little less attractive, I must admit.” Lies, every bit of it. But it was a good attempt at playing it cool. An attempt Kaidan obliterated.

“So I guess you wouldn’t want me to kiss you right now?” It was a joke, definitely a joke, but the way he said it—Scott was going to have a very long night.

“No,” Scott lied again, and it was mostly believable. “Because no one would believe me if I told them. And I’d tell everyone. And if you make me come in my dancing jeans I’ll have to try and beat you up and I don’t feel like getting my ass kicked.”

Kaidan smirked and raised his empty glass in mock toast. “When I get pissed tonight and start throwing pictures of Shepard at the wall, it’s your fault.”

“Right on. You deserve to be angry. Just don’t destroy the pictures. Unless he shot you once, then you probably don’t want to remember him.” Scott stared at Kaidan for a moment longer before stepping away from the bar, wondered what could have happened had Kaidan been single and Scott were ten years older.

He realized that as attractive as Kaidan was, he wasn’t attracted to him. He was kind and sweet, what Scott should be interested in, but instead he was perpetually falling for assholes with cocky grins and pretty lies.

And he realized Kaidan was staring back, just as thoughtful. Like he knew what Scott was thinking, maybe understood it even.

It seemed like he wanted to say something, maybe something profound, but when he opened his mouth he simply said, “Good luck, Scott. I hope you don’t fall in love with a Shepard.”