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flowerbeom · 5 years ago

Text

What I Wouldn’t Give | Part 3: Home

Im Jaebeom x Female!Reader

Genre: Stylist AU. Fluff. Smut

Warnings: Some swearing, soft sex.

Words: 5.5k

Concept: A story where a heartsick, pining and ‘hopelessly in love with his stylist’ Jaebeom finds himself in an awkward situation in the house of the stylist who’s equally heart sick and hopelessly in love with him. But neither of them know… yet.

A/N: Part 3. Please enjoy. It was all too consuming while writing it so I’m glad it’s done. Thank you to every who has hyped up this story and loved it and all that good stuff. I hope you all like how it ends. Now if you please excuse me... *runs into a wall to cure my heartache*

Part 1: The Right Fit

Part 2: The Wrap Party

Part 3: Home

Song Mood: Call My Name by WOOGIE, G.Soul

- - - - -

You were falling deeper and deeper into the onyx pools that held your stare. The light that filled your home made a hazel ring shine in his irises that you had never seen before, and if wasn’t for the insurmountable tremble clamping your hands to your sides, you would have taken his face in your hands and pulled it closer for a better look. Jaebeom was mesmerizing. But you had always known that. And as painful as it was to look at him, you couldn’t look away.

“Would I like a what?” He said in a whisper, his breath coated over your lips and you felt your lungs rattle. His eyes were still, as was his body, yet there was a shiver in his breath. Your brain sent a violent jolt down your body, a very physical reminder to breathe.

“A..” Breathe. “A dri..” One more, you’re turning purple. “A drink!” Jaebeom muffled the laugh that tried to break free into a choke in his throat. Completely taken with the way you blinked with every syllable, Jaebeom could only accept your offer with a nod.

Though something was amiss. The offer was accepted though any action was yet to be made as you both stood frozen by your door. The hem of your dress whispered against this knees and the zip of his jacket grazed against your shoulder. The very notion of moving was something completely lost on you and something needed to happen to break you out of the spell you had put each other under. Something drastic. Something extreme. Something like Jaebeom’s phone ringing in his pocket.

The sharp ting of the ring made you jump and the vibration against his leg made him shiver. Finally, the stare was broken, Jaebeom fighting with his clammy hands to pull out his phone.

“It’s Jinyoung.” A little startled.

“Oh, okay.” A little flustered.

“I’ll take it outside.” A little embarrassed.

“Sure.” A bit of the same.

You zigged when he zagged. Crossed when he weaved and fumbled around each other to let each other pass. In the midst of the scuffle his hand slid across your waist while yours slid down his arm; your eyes averted all contact and you finally pushed passed each other - hoping that the small amount of time it took for Jaebeom to take the call would be enough for both of you to regain composure. Unlikely.

Jaebeom pressed his back into the door after letting himself out, head tipping back to open his throat to heave in a breath he had needed since you pulled all the air out of his lungs when he was too close to almost kissing you. He answered the call one ring away from going straight to voicemail.

“Jinyoung-ah.”

“Don’t mess this up.” His hand raked back his hair, jaw clenched.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jaebeom heard Jinyoung grumble down the line, the frustrated grimace he would have made flashing in Jaebeom’s mind as clear as day.

“You know you’re exactly the same, right? You and her. One in the same. Stubborn. Headstrong. Pathetically blind.”

“Excuse me?!” Jaebeom was pacing, two steps one way then two steps back. Angry he was being insulted, but far more infuriated that you were too.

“You are the only two people in the world who don’t see it.” Jinyoung had no patience for pleasantries now.

“What?”

“That you’re in love with each other.” Jaebeom had more to say, but had forgotten it all. His jaw had dropped and his feet were still. Stripped of words and retorts; he fell silent.

“Hyung, listen to me. You have loved her for far too long. And she feels the same way.”

“No, she doe-”

“Shut up and let me speak. She shows it to you in so many ways and you fail to see it because you’re so caught up in your own feelings.” Jaebeom couldn’t respond, He couldn’t tell if it was because of what Jinyoung had said or because he couldn’t feel his own heart beat. Maybe he couldn’t feel it because he had left it inside with you. Either way, his thoughts were tearing him apart.

“Hyung. Listen to me. She loves you. Everyone can see it, everybody knows it. So just...just tell her already.” Jaebeom stood with his back to the door, staring at the moon for who knows how long after Jinyoung hung up. He sighed heavily, as if that low hanging drop of silver light was telling him the same things he had just heard, but all he could see was your face in it’s reflection. All he could ever see was you. Though, not for the want of trying, apparently he hadn’t seen much at all. So with a labouring breath and a rough hand rubbed against his chest, he went back inside.

“Sorry that took so long.” Jaebeom paused in the middle of your living room after spotting you with your head in the fridge. From the moment he stepped outside, to the moment his voice swirled around your apartment, you had been doubled over, leaning into the fridge. You wanted to say that you were looking for the beverage you had offered him earlier, but you were just trying to cool down. You had been staring at a jar of pickles, giving yourself a pep talk to no avail and found the recycled air did little to calm your nerves. Filling your cheeks with air, you pulled back from the shelves and turned towards the living room.

“I don’t seem to have anything other than wine..” You admitted in a voice so small you feared Jaebeom wouldn’t have heard you.

“That’s okay.” It was more than okay. It was almost ideal. Jaebeom needed the extra push to lower his inhibitions.

Pulling two glasses from your cupboard, you crossed to the dining table. You yanked out the cork from the bottle of wine you had half emptied earlier that night and smelt the puff of pinot noir waft into your nostrils. You poured one portion into his glass and only half of one into yours. Swollen ankles weren’t the only thing you’d have to content with if you drank anymore; it wasn’t the night to be loose lipped.

Though as you tamped the cork back into the bottle, through the corner of your eye you caught Jaebeom still standing aimlessly in the middle of your living room.

“You can sit.” His eyes shot in your direction, his head following slowly after. Your glass ladened hand pointed to the couch, his hips turning before his chest did.

“Ah, ahh yep.” His leather jacket slid slowly down his arms and you tried not to watch. You had seen it thousands of times before. In and out of clothes. On and off of jackets. Muscles tensing under skin as they caught the light. But it was never a sight you tired of. So you let yourself stare, right up until his face was looking back at yours as he lowered to sit on your couch.

You stopped on the other side of the coffee table, leaning forward to place his glass down. Just as your fingers had slipped away, his hand reached forward; latching onto your palm with a grip so tender you thought he might have mistaken you for glass.

“You still have this?” A fretful tone, one that pierced your chest and split your lungs apart.

“Still have what..?” Jaebeom’s thumb grazed over the white calloused skin that wrapped over your wrist bone. “Oh, the scar?”

“The hair stylist didn’t see you trying to fix my tie and went in with the straightener. Burnt you really badly. I can still hear the way you screamed.” His voice was soft but carried pain. Yours or his, you weren’t sure. His eyes were steady on your wrist as his thumb smoothed over the raised skin. Gently, delicately tracing over the scar as if to help it fade.

“That-that was over three years ago. How do you still remember that?” You were trembling, evident in the red wine rippling in the glass in your other hand. Jaebeom’s thumb stopped on the high point of your wrist, his fingers pressing into your palm; his eyes lifting to meet yours. Jaebeom hesitated, a million reasons racing around his mind. Just tell her. So, he did.

“I-I… I remember everything about you.” A thick swallow. A thick, heavy swallow tracked down your throat and burned through your chest. He looked at you with so much tenderness you could feel your skin starting to melt off your bones. You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea what to do. All you could do was drop to your knees and place your glass down; his hand still holding yours from across the coffee table.

Seeing the way your eyes couldn’t find a spot to rest on his face, Jaebeom slowly took his hand away; the feeling equally as relieving as it was distressing. It wasn’t because you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you, the very opposite in fact. You wanted to get lost in the way his eyes enveloped you in their gaze and never leave, but you could feel your brain start to warp with the lack of oxygen, his stare too entracing for you to breathe normally. You felt your dress cinch into your waist with every breath you drew and wanted nothing more than to be out of it. Pushing off the coffee table to stand, Jaebeom watched you with expectant eyes.

“Do you..do you mind if I just get changed?” A lump pulled on Jaebeom’s vocal chords and his reply was nothing but a hitched breath and a nod. As you turned away, walking at a pace you deemed not an amble and not a sprint, your face contorted to pull in ugly, jagged breathes. He watched you step away, his shirt clinging to his sweat ridden back. Eventually his eyes lowered back down to his hands; one of them numb, the other begging to hold yours once more.

You made it. Into the safety of your bedroom and relished in the familiarity of the space. You were about to place your bag on the bed but a violent rattle from inside ripped a strangled yelp from your mouth and the bag to fling into the air. Plunging a hand into the bag, you pulled out your ringing phone and answered the call.

“Are you having fun?”

“Didn’t I tell you fuck off?” Hana sniggered down the line. You muttered expletives in response.

“Hey, you’re the one who invited him into your apartment like you expected nothing would happen!” She snapped, voice shrill through the receiver.

“Nothing will happen!” You snapped back.

“Yes, because you’re a pussy who can’t see that the guy you’ve been pining over for almost half a decade fucking loves you!” Little buzzes of static floated between the line holding you and Hana together, your expression, slack jaw with wide eyes while hers was frustrated fingers kneading her forehead. You assumed, at least.

“Look, stop denying what you’ve been feeling, especially from him. You’re not stupid. So stop acting like it. Just show him.”

“Show him what?”

“Just show him.” Hana offered more pieces of advice but they fell on deaf ears; ending the call with so little as a ‘goodbye’ to mark the conversation over. You sat on the edge of your bed staring at the ceiling until little white dots starting floating around your eyes. Head tipped back between your shoulder blades, you let your arms slide back until your back hit the mattress.

The tiny hum of the air conditioner made your ears tingle, but as much as you tried to drown it out, all you could hear was Jaebeom. He wasn’t even speaking but you could hear him. You could always hear him, though it seemed you never really listened. So as you bubbled air through pursed lips, you pulled yourself up; a new found resolve overcoming you. But first, you needed to get out of that dress.

Jaebeom nursed his glass of wine in the cup of his hands. Gazing around your apartment, he dwelled on little spots that showed him the sides of you he had wanted to know for years. Small notions of how your mind worked and what you kept close to your heart; from the way you arranged your shoes by the front door and how the first thing you can see when walking in was a picture of your parents. Jaebeom sat there quietly, and despite the ball of anxiety that pulsed just below his diaphragm, he felt rather content.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he tipped a small mouthful of liquid into his mouth, his eyes shifting up as he did. And there you were, through a small gap in your bedroom door that you must have failed to close in your haste, he spotted you. Leaning against your arms on the edge of your bed as you stared at the ceiling. Jaebeom lowered his glass, but not his eyes. He watched you slide onto your back as wisps of hair billowed around your face as you fell.

Enamored, captivated, bewitched. His better sense was telling him to look away, but he couldn’t find the strength to. He watched you sit up to lean forward and pull each one of his socks off your feet. Placing them carefully beside you, he watched you push off your knees to stand and turn to face your bed.

A dry swallow scratched down Jaebeom’s throat, eyes still peering through the gap in your bedroom door. His eyes followed your hand as it reached behind you; finding the zipper of your dress. Starting from your nape, you slowly pulled the tab down your spine, finishing at the small of your back. Jaebeom’s hands were gripping his glass and he felt a wave of heat travel through his body.

Starting from his cheeks, to his chest to falling right into his lap; the surge of heat coursed through his veins. Jaebeom’s lips fell open, his eyes glued to your bare back as it caught the light in the most exquisite way. His heart was crashing against his ribs, and just as you slid the dress down your arms to let it cascade onto the floor, Jaebeom finally realised what he was doing; tearing his eyes away from you and straight down between his feet.

Forcing the glass to his lips, he drained the wine down his throat in one swallow. Catching his breath, his eyes locked on a sketchbook tucked underneath your coffee table. Placing the glass on the table, he reached down and pulled the sketchbook out and rested it next to his glass. Jaebeom debated opening it, but it was rather that than risk staring at you. So, timidly, Jaebeom turned over the cover and gazed at the drawings he found.

Perfectly proportioned figures, donning outfits he recognised were ones you had dressed him in over the years. Markings and sketches, plans of colour and texture combinations. Lists of well known and lesser known designers filled the margins of each page. As he perused the pages, each of them adorned with the most intricate drawings, he noticed the figures that had been faceless began to acquire features.

With each passing era, more of his likeness were etched onto the pages. Rough sketches of his eyes and lips, then the edge of his nose to the rise of his cheek bones were added in later drawings. Jaebeom couldn’t stop turning the pages. He finally saw what Jinyoung was telling him what he was blind to.

As he approached the last few pages of the sketchbook, the figures no longer wore clothes, they no longer even had bodies. All he saw were almost perfect portraits. Candid, sincere illustrations of his likeness that could only be captured if someone’s heart was truly invested.

“I see now.” Falling off his lips in a whisper, the warmth that engulfed his body before had now shifted to his heart; his chest swelling with affection.

“I guess you found my sketchbook.” Jaebeom whipped his head up, finding you standing before him with a sheepish smile illuminating your features. Hair down, fresh face, loose shirt, hands gingerly resting in the pockets of linen shorts, you rocked on your heels; unsure of the expression he was holding.

“Ahh.. yeh. Umm so-sorry should I not be looking at…” He halted when you waved your hands reassuringly. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth upon seeing your eyes folding into crescent moons as a blush tinted your cheeks. It was an involuntary response, your body giving in to any wish he may have had and your hands said it was fine before your mouth could form a response. There was no use taking it back now, you could see the quiver in his hands and the flutter of his lashes and it hurt to see him anxious. There was no use hiding it now. Just show him. So, you did.

“No, it’s okay. You can look.” You lowered into the armchair beside the couch, sitting on the edge and leaned forward to pull the sketchbook closer towards you. “I mean, why can’t the subject look at the work born of their inspiration.”

Jaebeom felt his entire body tingle. He was staring at how you scanned over your drawings with a subjective eye and wanted to tell you that as beautiful as they were, you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Almost like if you wrote a song about someone, you’d let them listen to it, right?” Yes, a million times yes. That’s exactly what Jaebeom was thinking and as much as he wanted to tell you that every song he had written since he met you had your voice weaved into the notes and the way you made him feel printed onto every lyric, he couldn’t; he was lost in how your finger traced down the edge of his face, even if it was just on paper.

Your eyes lifted from the page you were fiddling with to gaze into his. The moment was one of enraptured bliss; a second of calm in the storm of passion raging in both your hearts. A silent beat of understanding yet left so many questions unanswered. You were the first to look away, the buzzing in your ears too loud to withstand. Jaebeom found the moment a little overwhelming himself.

Rising to your feet, you noticed Jaebeom’s empty glass and felt your stomach rumble, enough to chase away the butterflies setting up camp. Your mouth leaped before thought, a common occurrence.

“Would you like some ramen?” You had taken one step towards the kitchen and froze. Turning your head slowly to meet Jaebeom’s equally confused face; the insinuation of your request was completely lost on you until that very moment. Your mouth dropped as his lips pulled between his teeth; both your eyes shaking in the tension that your simple question had brought on.

You pulled in a shallow breath, choking on the few words you tried to say.

“No, I.. just” Your hands scraped back your hair to drop it behind your shoulders.

“There was no..” Pause. “.. food at the party so…” Dry swallow. “I figured you must be hungry..” Hollow breath.

Silence. A pregnant pause heavy enough to suffocate even the most patient of persons. You bit down onto your bottom lip and as you stared across the coffee table into Jaebeom’s eyes, you could feel your cheeks lifting. You saw the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle and felt yours mirror them. Then in a flash, you broke; both of you did. Laughter spilled from your mouths and entwined in the air. The tension in the room diffused by the melodic sound of your revelry and Jaebeom rose to his feet; strengthened by the smile on your face.

“Ramen sounds good. I’ll help you.”

You pulled out a pot and he filled it with water. You tipped in the noodles and he placed it on the stove. You and Jaebeom floated around each other in your kitchen as if it was the most comfortable thing to do. When he asked for chopsticks you had already grabbed some from a drawer and placed them in his hand just as his tone inflected his sentence into a question. You giggled at the baffled grin he gave you.

You seemed to move as one, pushing and pulling like tides; always flowing with each other’s current rather than fighting against it. His gentle smile reflected yours and you both felt light, easy, settled; as if you had finally come home.

You placed bowls on the table and refilled your empty glasses with wine. Jaebeom followed closely after, placing the pot of ramen in the middle of the table and scooted his chair forward to sit across from you. Balancing chopsticks within your fingers, Jaebeom nodded before picking up his own.

“Ah shit.” Standing rather abruptly, you rounded the table. Striding past Jaebeom, he held out his hand on instinct, his fingertips brushing your bare thigh as you passed. Jaebeom shuddered, the softness of your skin, the warmth radiating beneath it. Jaebeom was slowly losing it, unraveling at the seams while seated at your dining table. He tensed his jaw, begging himself to hold it together. But you, in all your naive charm wouldn’t let him.

“I forgot I had fishcakes.” Holding onto the back of his chair, you leaned over his shoulder; placing the container next to his bowl. You were so close that your hair fell over his chest and he could breathe in your perfume and how it mixed with your skin; his eyes fluttering shut at how deeply it affected him.

As you moved to step away, your hair pulled over his shoulder like silk; gliding over his neck and he was done. Pushing his chair back suddenly, you jumped when his hand shot forward to grab your wrist; turning you back around to face him.

The tether holding his sanity ashore had snapped, and it was swiftly pulled away by the surging waves of passion overcoming him. He had waited long enough, endured long enough; been stupid long enough. He couldn't understand why you both had been this way, not now when he could see the love he held for you reflected in your eyes.

"What’re we doing?" Jaebeom’s voice was unsteady. His fingers soft yet strong around your wrist.

“We’re...we’re about to eat.” You saw your words travel through him and land in the pit of his stomach.

“No.” His other hand lifted to fill the empty space occupying yours. Pulling you forward to stand in the gap between his knees, Jaebeom looked up at you and he held every ounce of your attention.

“What are we doing?” Holding both your hands in his, you stared into Jaebeom’s eyes; a universe of questions swirling behind them and you were the only one who could give him answers. He pulled you closer again, his fingers sliding into the gaps between yours, hoping you’d feel grounded enough to answer him.

“I…” Five years of denial came to slap you in the face and as you felt Jaebeom’s fingerprints imprint onto your skin, you knew there was no use in doing so anymore.

“I honestly don’t know.” You breathed in and Jaebeom’s lungs filled with air.

“Apparently, no one does either.” You laughed at his candor, giving Jaebeom the spark to pull you in closer. There wasn’t much space between you, Jaebeom could very well rest his head on your chest and you would have simply let him. You would comb your fingers through his hair and held him in your arms, but the way he held your stare signaled there was still so much air to clear.

“You know, it hurts.” His jaw ticking as he breathed in through his nose, his hands gripping yours as if he was afraid you’d run away.

“It hurts seeing you everyday and not running to you. It hurts being so close to you and not holding you. It hurts loving…” Jaebeom’s eyes sealed shut, as if saying that last word had filled his mouth with poison. But he swallowed it down, pulling in the breath you had shakily exhaled.

“It hurts loving you the way I do. I love you so much that I can feel my heart tearing into pieces whenever you walk away.” You could feel him shake, his breathing became erratic and his eyes were darting across your face. Every word, every single drop of sound that fell off his trembling lips cleaved away at the wall you had built around your heart and every part of your ached to ease his shivering. You loved him, as painfully and as powerfully as he loved you and you had waited too long to tell him; but he cut you off before you had the chance.

“Do you know what I’d give to be with you? Do you know what I’d give to be yours?” He was rambling and you were afraid he wouldn’t stop. You pulled your hands out of his and lifted them to his face; his lips quivering to a halt, his eyes fixed on yours.

“Jae..” You sighed, his name felt divine to say. Thumbs caressing his cheeks to soothe him, Jaebeom’s hands found your waist; his hold on you keeping you from floating to the ceiling.

“Do you know what I wouldn’t give to be yours?” Brushing back his fringe you caught the flicker in his eye, the expectant gaze in his stare.

“Jaebeom..” You pulled his face closer to yours as he pulled your body closer to his.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give.”

His lips crashed into yours as five years of missed opportunities and wasted moments crashed to your feet. He pulled you into his arms, holding you against him with all the words he had left to say melting onto your lips. Your fingers raked into his hair, returning his kiss with passion, burning passion and it felt like your heart would burst.

Pulling him onto his feet, your lips never parted from his; tongues entwining with all the carnal desire you had suppressed behind stolen glances and unsaid confessions. Jaebeom’s hands roamed your back, sliding beneath your shirt to feel as much of you as he could. You stepped back, leading him from the table but Jaebeom bounded too fast and locked your foot to the ground, tipping you back; both falling to the ground, trapped in your own embrace.

Colliding with the ground, Jaebeom cradled your head in his hands; concern washed over his face while you could only laugh.

“Oh my god, are you okay?!” Finally opening your eyes through your laughter, you reached forward, grabbing his collar and pulling him down.

“Just kiss me.” His mouth found yours again, his hands sliding under your shirt to gently pull it over your head. Your fingers were struggling with his belt, a task you, in your profession, would have no trouble with; but the way his lips explored the edge of your jaw and down your neck had rendered your hands useless. You changed your approach, hooking your fingers under the hem of his shirt to pull it off him.

Tearing his lips away from your collarbone, Jaebeom reared back, smacking his head against the edge of the dining table. His hands snapped onto his head, as you sat up quickly; trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune, but his crumpled face was adorable.

“Are you okay?” Pressing your lips to his forehead as you tried to pull his hands away.

“Shut up.” But you couldn’t, laughter still spilling out of your mouth in failed attempts to stifle it. So Jaebeom did it for you. He pushed you back, ripping off his shirt and wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pressing himself against you.

His kissed was fevered, hot and heavy against your lips and you lost your breath trying to keep up. But you would try. Your hands traced down his torso, fingertips etching into the lines of definition in his muscles. Traveling down from his chest to his navel, you stopped when they reached his belt, this time you expertly unfastened the buckles, pulling the leather smoothly through his pants loops.

Jaebeom pulled away, lifted his hand to your cheek and gazed into your eyes. For the first time there was no fear, no apprehension. Only happiness. Only love. Smoothing his thumb over your cheek, he bit his lips before they parted to speak.

“Are you sure?”

“More than anything in my entire life.” With your eager permission, Jaebeom pressed a hand into your back and lowered you to the floor. Gliding his fingertips down the sides of your body, you shivered ardently at his touch. His fingers looped under the waistband of your shorts and slowly pulled them down your legs.

You watched his eyes drink you in, a dry swallow travelling down his throat at the magnificence of you. Biting your lip, he caught the hunger in your eyes and it lit a raging fire within him. Undoing the button of his pants, he pulled down the zip, then pushed his pants down his thighs before lowering onto you. Pressing his chest against yours, you could feel his heartbeat against your skin; it synchronizing with yours.

Sliding his hand between your legs, he found himself, eager and ready and kissed you before he moved. Entering you slowly, he kept his lips pressed against yours as you heaved in a breath. Arching your back off the floor, his body provided the ceiling you needed to hold yourself together. Jaebeom kissed you, over and over again; drawing whimpered moans to spill out of your mouth as he rolled his hips against you.

Your hands found purchase in his back as your legs wrapped around his waist. One hand holding himself up as the other cupped your cheek, Jaebeom could feel his control unraveling as he buried himself inside you. Bodies bound together, your teeth grazed along his shoulder while his mouth wrote words of adoration into your neck.

The coil inside you was tightening, ready to snap and Jaebeom knew it with the way your nails were digging into his skin and how his name tumbled breathless off your lips. Snaking his hands under you, Jaebeom pulled you up into his embrace as he drove deep inside you. An intense wave of pleasure crashed over you; your body shaking in his arms as euphoria surged through your veins.

Jaebeom’s control completely unraveled, all his wanting spilling out as he quivered; lips latched onto your shoulder, mewling against the softness of your skin. Holding the embrace, your fingertips traced down his spine; you kissed his neck and he released his hold to let himself look at you.

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Unwrapping your legs from his waist, you shuffled back to press your lips to his before shuffling to your feet to stand. “I’ll be right back.”

Grabbing his shirt off the floor, you slipped it on; Jaebeom powerless against the smile digging into his cheeks at the sight. Gone for only a few seconds, you returned with a towel; handing it to Jaebeom to clean himself up.

Pulling back on his underwear as you slipped back into your shorts, Jaebeom’s phone buzzed on the table. The sound making both your faces freeze before crumpling in amusement.

“I wonder if that’s Jinyoung.” You jeered.

“It better not be.” Jaebeom snarled, reaching above him to find his phone. Kneeling across from him, you watched his slender fingers swipe across the screen to take the call.

“Oh, Hyung?” His manager, made sense.

“Oh, it’s all clear?...Yeh, yeh I’m fine… We’re fine.” Jaebeom smiled gently as his other hand reached forward to caress your cheek; fondly letting you tip your face to rest it in his palm.

“No, no thank you… Okay, bye.” Placing his phone on the floor, he opened his arms to let you crawl forward onto his lap. Kissing his forehead, you leant back to look at his perfect face; perfect in knowing that behind those deep and magical eyes, was the man you loved. The man who loved you just as intensely in return.

Jaebeom’s arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his embrace soaking into your skin and you felt at peace. Completely content. Indescribably happy. Absolutely in love. You both held the embrace in comfortable silence, there was no more need for words. Though you, with all your naive charm, somehow found something to say.

“Work’s going to be weird on Monday, isn't it?” Jaebeom kissed your chin, then your lips, then the tip of your nose before stopping to stare into your eyes.

“Well it’s a good thing all the closets have locks…”

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