#jeon somi x fem!yn

[stayarmytinyzenmoa-l]

And That's Okay

University AU TW: Language, University Struggles, Sexual Orientation Struggles, Strained Parental Relationships, Slight Implications of Body Dysmorphia, Angst (No Comfort), Reader implied to have anxiety, Codependent relationship, Implications of a toxic relationship, Smoking, Hookup culture Smut Warnings: F/F Sex, Oral (giving and receiving), fingering, first-time receiving anything and everything, loss of virginity, mentions of penetrative sex, mentions of dildo and various other usage of sex toys, F/M Sex, blowjobs, drunk sex, protected sex, penetrative sex, sloppy makeouts Genre: Romance, Drama, Angst, Smut Pairing: Jeon Somi x Reader ft. Na Jaemin Y/N Pronouns: Female (She/Her) Word Count: 27.3K Summary: University is when you find out things about yourself. You will find out things you'd already known and you will find out things that you didn't want to know, and oftentimes that is through the help of others who you grow close to and learn to love. But nothing lasts forever, and that's okay.

[Other Groups Masterlist] Notes: HAHA I GOT IT DONE IN TIME FOR HER COMEBACK! So, yeah, full disclosure this is heavily based off of my own experiences coming to terms with myself but obviously it's also super fucking exaggerated because it is fanfic lmao I gotta make it entertaining somehow. But, without further ado, enjoy! Disclaimer: Please remember that this is an AU and a work of fiction, obviously the idols mentioned/written about in this story would never partake in these actions. The idols mentioned in this work are meant to be seen more as face claims rather than the actual idols themselves.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!! Thank you for reading!

“Yeah, we’re together.”

“Oh, I’m happy for you,” you smiled. Your friend had been seeing this guy for a while now, and you were the fortunate one who had listened to her the entire time. Sweet as it may be, you were glad that she’d finally mustered the courage to say yes to his constant probings. You were happy for her, truly, you were in love with the way she smiled now and the way she spoke about him, you could see it in everything that she did, she really was in love with him. The way her hair bounced when she nodded her head, the way her lips would turn up so slightly, and the way that smile still reached her eyes. You were happy for her, really, you were.

“Thank you, (Y/N)! I only have you to thank, really, you’ve been helping me out with this since day one and… ahh,” she rubs the back of her neck bashfully. Her hair parted slightly under her hands, revealing the soft skin beneath it while she did so and the light tinge of her cheeks sent your heart racing. “(Y/N)? Everything alright? I mean, I know, it must be annoying to hear me gush about him all the time,” she asks with a small laugh.

“Yeah, fine, no, that’s okay. You like him, right?”

“I do! But, I mean, we haven’t really labeled our relationship yet because, I mean, I’m still getting to know him,” she continued on. Her voice, though melodious to you always, drowned out in the sea of your thoughts. “Oh, shoot, (Y/N), I lost track of time, I have to head out,” she glances at her phone, the lone notification on it telling you everything you needed to know. “Same time next week?” She asks.

“Yeah, I’m always free,” you nodded. 

“Do you want me to walk you to your car? I know you don’t like to be alone,” she says it with a painful jab. But it was the truth. You hated walking alone as much as you hated being alone but, still, you shook your head.

“I think I’ll stay here for a bit longer.”

“Sounds good, get home safe, (Y/N)!” She packs her things.

“You too. Bye,” you waved and watched her go, leaving you sitting in the café. Goodbye.

That’s how you said goodbye to your first love.

The time was 2:30 pm in the afternoon. In a quiet café, seated at the counter near the very back, and with no more patrons than fingers on one of your hands. You could hear coffee brewing behind you, and the playlist of the day was soft jazz. The cup just a finger away had long gotten cold, forgotten as you listened to your friend’s love story, and your tablet just minutes from dying. You looked down at your notes and read through a few lines, but you didn’t know what to do, you didn’t know what to think. You were heartbroken, sure, you had to be. Your first love, the person you had fallen in love with years before and the person who you continued to love, had found someone else. Someone else who made her smile wider than before, someone else who she found herself thinking of at random points of the day, and someone else who made her feel happier than before. And that someone wasn’t you. It was your fault, really. How could she ever come to love you if you’ve never in mustered the courage to even come out to her? You couldn’t breeze through love with another woman the same way you could with another man.

You were so happy for her, she deserved this so much. But, god, when will it be your turn?

You turned your tablet off and started to pack your things. Might as well go home, then. You only agreed to go out today because she was the one who asked.

“Thank you,” you nodded your head toward the barista before heading out. It was only six in the evening, but still the sun had long set. People moved around you, couples, families, and friends alike. You pulled your hood over your backpack and started to move toward your car. Once you got there, you sat at the driver’s seat and locked your doors. Your keys remained in your hand, however, and instead of starting the car, you relaxed against your seat and sighed.

That was truly the end, wasn’t it? You checked your phone and saw the message from her. She arrived home safely. You smiled, but quickly caught yourself as you liked her message and tossed your phone on the passenger’s seat.

You said goodbye to your first love, and now you can focus on her friendship instead. Good for you, and good for her.

~

“I thought you said that dating apps weren’t your thing, (Y/N),” your classmate chimes.

“Eh, figured I’d give it a shot,” you continued to mindlessly swipe. It was true, you were more into meeting people “organically” but, well with today’s day and age, this seemed to be the more sufficient way to do things. Your classmate peered over your shoulder and you turned the screen away from him, but not before he could see who you’d hesitated over.

“Whoa, (Y/N), I didn’t know you swung for that team,” he says, disappointment in his voice.

“I mean… yeah, I like girls and guys, so what?” You shrugged, turning your phone off instead. The confession felt weird. Had you ever said it before? No, not really, you were just annoyed that the first person you technically came out to was a boy you’d just met a few minutes earlier.

“Then, why don’t we go out on a date then?” He teases.

“I’m not really into dating right now,” you said.

“Then why are you on Tinder?” He asks.

“Just cuz,” you shrugged. You just didn’t want to date him. Before he could respond, the sounds of rustling backpacks signaled the end of class. “See you next week,” you chucked your things into your bag before rushing off. You didn’t want to delve into a conversation you didn’t have time for, much less with someone who gave you massive icks with everything he said. While you made your way to your next lecture, you opened your phone again, looking at the profile you’d just hovered over.

Somi Douma, 21. She had a few pictures you could tap through. She’s really pretty, you had to admit that much. Pisces, in college, looking for something short but open to long, love language is touch, not into smoking, not into drugs. Her profile was so much like the others you’d swiped left on before, but something really stood out to you on it. You swiped right on it.

It's a match! You felt your heart stop. You? She swiped right on you before? No way. Not with the random, half a year old selfies you chose to populate your profile with. You didn’t even look all that good in them what with no makeup or fancy hairdos. You put your phone away and rushed to lecture. You couldn’t understand the cold feet you suddenly got, shouldn’t you feel some sort of validation? Some kind of joy from getting a match? You swallowed harshly. Had you ever gone on a date with another woman before? Had you ever gone on a date before? You squeezed your hands together and entered your next lecture, taking the first seat you found open.

“Hey, (Y/N),” your study group finds you easily and your first friend, Keeho, was the one to call out to you. Then three others took their seats around you. “Everything alright?” He asks you.

“Uh, yeah,” you answered vaguely. You chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Just worried about how I’m going to study for this class,” you mumbled. Keeho eyed you wearily, but decided to leave the subject. Maybe it was you being full of yourself, but you could swear you saw the admiration in his eyes. It was the same way you’d look at your first love but you knew for a fact that you didn’t even want to try anything with him. It was hard enough to make friends in college, you could only imagine how hard it would be to lose them. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you stole a quick glance. Big mistake on your part, the ‘Tinder’ tag line and the simple ‘New Message from Somi’ nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. You put your phone away and covered the lower half of your face with your hand, but this didn’t go unnoticed to your other friend.

“(Y/N)?” Yeji places a hand on your shoulder. “All good?” She asks.

“Just fine,” you told her with a heated face and a racing heart. You didn’t expect either of you to make the first move, granted, and you definitely didn’t expect to see a message just minutes after you matched together, it was too sudden. Making that account was supposed to be a joke, a spur of the moment thing you did with your friend, the same one you’d crushed on before and the one you’re one sidedly getting over too. You never expected to use this app seriously, and you definitely didn’t expect to find someone at all.

“Earth to (Y/N),” Jaemin leaned down and waved his hand, pulling you back into reality. “Your shit’s in the way,” he eyes your backpack.

“Oh, shit, sorry, Jaem,” you pulled your bag into your lap and, ahh there it went, your phone landed on the floor and the screen lit up, the Tinder notification taunting you, but you were fast to pick it up while everyone was preoccupied talking to Jaemin about the content in today’s lecture.

Close call, you shook your head and joined in with them.

But why did you even feel shame about it in the first place?

~

You looked at the lone notification on your phone sent now six hours ago. You didn’t know what to do with it. You didn’t think that anyone would swipe on your profile, much less someone as attractive as her. But you steeled yourself, laying down in your bedroom, you tapped on the notif and Tinder opened right up.

‘Hi, I’m Somi! I see we matched :) Why don’t we get to know each other better? 20 questions?’

You typed out a response.

‘Hi! I’m (Y/N). I’d love to get to know you better, I’m down. Should I ask the first question?’

‘Yeah, shoot!’ Her response was immediate and you thought for a second.

‘Are you bisexual too?’  It was missing from her profile, her sexuality you mean. But, to be fair, so was yours.

‘Lesbian, actually. How about you?’

‘That counts as a question! I’m bi… I think.’

‘You think? You just asked if I was.’

‘I’m not sure yet.’ There was a pause before her response.

‘Do you want to find out?’

‘I mean… yeah.’

‘Haha, you’re cute! Okay, I think I see why you joined this app now lol. After this game, wanna meet up?’

You looked around your bedroom. You were a commuter student, and one who, of course, couldn’t fucking drive. 

“(Y/N)!” Your mom’s voice was sudden. “Dinner’s downstairs!”

“I’ll be there, mom!” You answered back. You looked at your phone.

‘Sure, maybe not today, though, I’m already at home.’

‘? Do you commute?’

‘Yeah, I’m like twenty ish miles away from my campus.’

‘Ohhh, where do you go to school?’

‘BLU! You?’

‘No wayyyyy same!’

You paused. She was closer than you thought.

‘What major?’

‘Mathematics. You?’

‘Biochemistry.’

‘Whoaaaa I’ve matched with a genius, huh?’

‘Math’s cool, though, I could never, I lose my mind over trig alone!’

‘Same, lol! But still, it’s crazy to think that we’re so close.’

‘I know! What year? If you don’t mind me asking.’

‘It’s one of your 20, so why not lol? I’m a third year. You?’

‘Aha… first year…’

‘Whoaaaaaa so you’re fresh into the college scheme, huh?’

‘A little, yeah.’

‘Aww, I remember when I first started out too! Hey, if you’re comfortable with it then we should meet up!’

Again, you stopped typing. Was this how dating was supposed to go about? Then again, she was looking for something casual, so you had to take that into account, and you wanted to know if your loveless life was due to you pursuing the wrong gender this whole time. All of grade school you’d gone without once being liked romantically, and to those flitting crushes you did garner the courage for they all laughed at your confessions, was this really your only chance at feeling wanted? You placed your phone on your chest and sighed, but then you felt it vibrate once more.

‘If it’s too soon don’t worry about it! We’re basically strangers, is all, and I’d like to get to know you better. Your profile says that you’re looking for something short and casual, right?’

‘Uh… yeah. To be honest I wasn’t 100% sure what it meant.’

‘Aww! A freshman indeed! Do you want the full graphic answer?’

You felt your face start to burn up. She sent you another message before you could type anything more.

‘I mean, it doesn’t have to be sexual. We can do cuddle buddies instead.’ You didn’t even think it had anything to do with sex. Short and casual? You had no idea what that would have entailed at all. Even with some thought into it you couldn’t piece it together.

‘Cuddle buddies?’

‘Yeah. It’s like FWB except without the sex lol.’ Never mind, you knew exactly what ‘short and casual’ meant now.

‘Well…’

‘You’re an adult, right? Your profile says so but I just want to be sure.’

‘I am!’

‘Okay! Just checking! But it’s up to you. Then again, you can just delete this convo and pretend that nothing happened.’

‘I don’t want to do that…’

‘Okay then! Just let me know, don’t leave me hanging, (Y/N)! Plus, you seem so chill compared to others on this app so I’d like to at least be friends!’

‘Yeah, ofc! I’ll have to text you later tho, to finish the game, I mean!’

‘Yeah, no prob! I’ll text you later <;3’

And the conversation ended. You placed your phone on the nightstand next to you and rolled over in your blankets. Something casual? Friendship? Something… sexual? You shuddered. You didn’t even think about it that way. You were still a virgin, no experience, no thoughts, you’d never really paid too much mind to doing anything like that. Well, you’d done some masturbation here and there, who hasn’t by this age? But nothing with another person. Your face was burning up now, something you tried to cool down by turning your pillow over and laying face down on it.

“(Y/N)?” Your mom calls you down again. “Dinner!”

“I’ll be there!” You answered.

There’s the other problem. You’re not out to anyone, well, except for that stranger who wouldn’t leave you alone earlier. What would your parents think of you? They worked so hard to help you get to where you are today, they are working so hard to help you achieve your dreams, what would they think of you if you told them this? As much as you loved your parents, and truly you did, you knew their thoughts and opinions on homosexuality and how its representation is being handled in today’s age. The words of your mother rang clear.

‘Honey, it’s okay if you are, but I’d prefer you not to be.’ And you stood by those words all your life. Such a small statement that she said to you when your best friend came out, and one that you hardly talk to anymore. She said that to you when you were in middle school and now here you were, in college, and probably, most likely, very gay. Who the hell says that to a thirteen year old anyway?

Well, actually, your mom apparently. You couldn’t blame her, though, considering the state of politics at that time. She was a mother who was afraid of what would happen to her daughter for being who she was, and you couldn’t fault her for that intention, you could only fault her for the execution.

Then, rapid knocks at your door lead you to shove your phone under your pillow just in time for it to swing open.

“Hey! Mom’s calling us! Let’s go before she comes up here,” your younger sibling urges you to follow.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you scrambled off your bed and ran downstairs, leaving your phone behind.

~

“Okay, just something casual, cuddle buddies, yup, just something casual, cuddle buddies, mmhmm,” you recited to yourself.

The time was 12:00 pm in the afternoon. The sun was high in the sky and the air was heavy with a dry heat. And here you were, standing in front of an apartment unit. You started having second thoughts, was it really a good idea to play into dating app culture? Was it a good idea to agree to meet up with Somi in person? What if you’d just been catphished? What if she’s a crazy axe murderer looking for her next victim? What if you just didn’t vibe with her in person versus through text? Was it too late to turn around and say that you couldn’t find her apartment? Well, yes, you did ring the doorbell already so there was no way you could turn back now.

Then, as soon as the door in front of you opened, you felt your mind blank.

“Hi! Uh…” The woman who opened the door looked you up and down before snapping her fingers, “(Y/N), right?”

“Yup, that’s me,” you answered in a higher tone.

‘Kill me now,’ your internal thoughts shouted at you.

“Wow, I knew you were cuter in person,” Somi laughs. “Come in, come in, but leave your shoes by the door in here too,” she points to the shoe rack absently while walking in. You followed her close behind, pausing only to slip your converse off, and continuing on. “I know, it’s a small place, but at least I have it to myself,” she speaks up. “How was the drive here?”

“Oh, uh, I walked actually.”

“You walked?!” She turned to you briefly with a shocked look on her face. “It’s, like, a hundred degrees outside!”

“Yeah, but, uh, I was on campus so it was just easier,” you shrugged.

“Hold on, hon, let me get you some water! You can sit wherever,” she gestured broadly and walked into the kitchen. You took the liberty of sitting down on the couch while you watched her move about from the other side of the counter, from pulling a glass from the upper cabinet to pouring a bottle of water from next to the fridge. You heard the cubes of ice clink against the glass as she walked back to you and placed it on the coffee table in front of you, just inches away from some fashion magazine she had. “So… tell me about yourself,” she says with a light tone.

“Oh, um…” This felt a little strange. Normally, weren’t first dates in cafes or bookstores? Come to think of it, you vaguely remembered a PSA saying something about not going to stranger’s houses for first dates. Was this a good idea? Did you make a good choice? What were you doing here again? Why? Huh? You felt like you’d enclosed yourself and built up another wall. You were afraid of opening up to this woman, this person you’d just met. Why did you think it was a good idea to come into her home? Dense. It’s like you forgot all the Crime Watch Dailys and 20/20 episodes your mom made you watch with her.

“(Y/N)?”

“Oh, um,” you repeated yourself and shook your head. “Sorry,” you shook your head.

“No, no, it’s okay!” She waved her hand in front of her. “You’re new to this kind of thing, huh?” She asks.

“Yeah… very,” you admitted. “I’m sorry, I know you were probably expecting something else but…”

“No, it’s fine!” She reassures you. “To be honest, I’m not too experienced either. I actually recently moved here! I transferred to BLU this year,” she says.

“Oh? From where?”

“I was raised in Korea, actually,” she nods.

“Korea? Wow!” You commented. “So why did you transfer here then? That States are so far away,” you shook your head slightly.

“Aw, you know, the usual! I wanted to get out and be independent from my parents for a bit, go on an adventure, and, hell why not, get my degree while doing it,” she says. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love them a lot! And they were really supportive of me coming out here so I have to be grateful, but, you know how it goes.”

“I do, I do, I wish I tried harder to convince my parents to let me move out for at least a year,” you shook your head.

“Oh! You’re commuting?”

“Yup, and, of course, I don’t have my license so that’s probably why they encouraged me to stay home too,” you sighed with a slight eye roll.

“Awh, but that’s so sweet that your parents care like that,” she says.

“Yeah, I guess,” you nodded slightly and you rubbed your arms up and down. “So, uh, why math?” You changed the subject.

“Oh, I’m terrible at it, like, really really bad at math,” she laughs, “but I love a challenge! And math is such a challenge, my god, I have fun with it so I decided to major in it,” she says. “And you? Biochemistry is a toughie.”

“God, you don’t even know,” you held your head with one hand before letting it fall to your lap again. Somehow, you found yourself relaxing into this conversation, any awkwardness you felt earlier started to fall away. “I’m on the premed route, actually, and biochem was just that fastest way to complete my pre-reqs,” you explained.

“Oo, premed? That’s cool!” She whistles. “You always wanted to be a doctor?”

“I mean, I guess, I had a phase where I wanted to be an astronaut, actually.”

“Didn’t we all?” She laughs. “Well, I wanted to be a stewardess for a while, but then I realized I hate flying,” she shakes her head.

“I found out I had motion sickness so I tossed that idea out really quickly,” you laughed along with her while holding your glass of water. The ice had long melted already and all that was left was the cool condensation surrounding the glass.

“You know what, (Y/N), you’re really cool,” she says softly. “I’m glad we matched.”

“Me too, it’s been kind of rough meeting new people since I started here a couple weeks ago,” you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s right, I haven’t really found my crowd either. I have groups here and there, but no one I’d definitely call a ‘good’ friend,” she says. Did you even have one? Well, the closest would be that study group you had now, the bonds from orientation apparently are very strong. “But, I dunno, you seem sweet so I’m sure people will gravitate toward you,” she smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah!” She says with a wide smile. “Say, why don’t we finish up that game? We still have a couple questions left.”

“Sounds good, you can go first,” you invited her.

“Nice,” she thinks for a moment, “when was your first kiss?” She asks. You drank some of your water.

“You can’t laugh.”

“I won’t!”

“Two months ago,” you said after taking a deep breath.

“Two?!” She gasps. You nodded curtly. “Whoa…”

“And you?”

“Middle school, on accident, I slipped on the wet floor and fell on top of this guy,” she laughed.

“Holy shit, that sounds like it’d hurt! For me it was in orientation. My roommate was a lesbian and she asked if me or out third liked girls too and I told her I wasn’t sure so she asked if I wanted to find out and I said yeah and… well, here I am,” you explained.

“Wow… and you’ll never know if she was a good kisser.”

“I didn’t hate it!”

“But you have no one to go on,” Somi reasons. She wasn’t wrong. You weren’t 100% sure how you were supposed to go about a kiss anyway, you just let your roommate at the time take control and you went with it. “Okay, okay, let’s settle it down a little. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee, definitely.”

“Right, biochem.”

“You?”

“I’ve really been into tea lately!”

“Right, math,” you laughed.

“Hey! It’s good for you,” she fires back. “Okay, hm, what do you think of me so far?”

“I think you’re very nice,” you answered. “But, I’ll be honest, I was a little worried when you asked me to meet you at your apartment,” you admitted. “Respectfully, I barely know you.”

“No, you’re right! As soon as I sent that text I was like ‘God! What was I thinking?’ and here you are!” She gestures toward you. “I’m glad you agreed, though, I hope I’m not too awkward.”

“You? Awkward?” You were in disbelief. She’d only been sweet and, if anything, she’s carrying the conversation. “I’m sorry for being awkward,” you corrected.

“Oh, please, I just thought you were being polite,” she says. “Say, I don’t want to ruin the mood or anything, but were you serious about cuddle buddies?”

Whoops, you forgot about that.

“I mean… I’m down to try it,” and suddenly you felt your walls building again. “But could you run by me what we’d be doing again?” You asked, diverting your eyes only slightly before looking at her again.

“Sure, we’d just be cuddling,” she explains. “No strings attached, we’d just call or text one another when we need some affection and then voila, we cuddle,” she continues.

“That’s it?”

“Yup. I mean, unless you want something more out of it, but I’m perfectly fine with just keeping it as friendly cuddling.”

Friendly? Were you even looking for something romantic? Was she? Were you? Did you even know how to notice those cues?

“Did you want something romantic?” You asked. She thought for a moment.

“To be honest… not right now,” she shook her head. “I’m still getting into the swing of things in this new university, but at the same time, I, uh…” she trails off while she squeezes her arms. “I don’t know. Haven’t you had times where you just wanted to be held?”

Of course.

“Yeah, I get it, we can do that then, cuddle buddies,” you answered.

“Okay then! The deal is set,” she nods.

“I might be awkward at first, though, I have to admit I’ve never really cuddled anyone before.”

“Really? Oh, (Y/N), you’re missing out!” She says. “I mean, we don’t have to try it today, but I’m just saying, it’s a really nice experience.”

“I’ll hold you to that, then,” you glanced at your watch, something she easily caught onto.

“I didn’t mean to keep you if you had anything,” she mumbled.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing. I just um… can’t drive, so my parents pick me up,” you explained. “So I should probably start heading back to campus,” you cleared your throat.

“Yeah, I get it! Have a safe walk back and thanks again for agreeing to meet with me! I’ll walk you to the door,” she says before following you up. “We’ll text later?”

“Of course,” you nodded and she opened the door for you.

“Bye, now!”

“See you.” She waved at you one last time before closing the door. Afterwards, you pivoted on your heel and walked off toward the apartment’s staircase, a strange warm feeling enveloping in your chest and a small smile on your face.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the train wreck you were afraid it’d be, actually, you’d say it went really well. Then, as you reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped out of the complex, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You shot a quick glance at it.

‘Heyyy! Look up behind you!’ You did so and Somi waved at you from her balcony. You waved back with a smile and she pointed to her phone again before shooting you another message. This time it was a picture of her schedule, something which you responded with a picture of your own as you walked off, chancing another look back to see her waiting for you to go. Again, you waved, and she waved back. Then, with you back turned to her, you continued down the sidewalk back to campus.

In no time at all, you were at the pickup area, spotting your dad’s car waiting for you. As soon as he saw you approaching, he moved out of the driver’s seat and into the passenger side and you felt your shoulders slump. It’s not that you dreaded these mini driving lessons, it’s more like it was too hot for you to even think about them.

Then again, if you got your license sooner, maybe you’d be able to meet up with Somi more? That’d be nice, you really enjoyed your time with her earlier.

“How was you day?” Your dad asked as soon as you slid into the car. Amazing.

“Good and… hot,” you answered while putting your seatbelt on. “Why’d you ask?”

“You just look like something good happened,” he answered. You pulled the car out of park and into drive. “Check your mirrors.”

“Oh, right,” you adjusted them.

“Always put the car on ‘park’ before you do that. Your car might roll forward.”

“Right, right.”

“And always step on the brake pedal too.”

“Got it, dad.”

“Look over your shoulder before you go.”

“I know.”

The extent of all your conversations with him have just been this. Driving. You were grateful he was teaching you but sometimes it felt so hard to talk to him about anything else.

~ You both continued to text back and forth after that. But you hadn’t met up, no, the extent of your friendship had been exchanged via Tinder. More and more questions back and forth, the occasional TikTok, and every now and then the late night texts asking each other seemingly pointless questions, and it was like that for almost two weeks. Your schedules actually lined up really well, given the two year difference, and a lot of gaps between your classes lined up with hers. So it wasn’t like you couldn’t meet up, more like neither of you had the opportunity or maybe either of you were too shy to make the first move after that initial meeting.

“Holy shit that lecture was so boring,” Yeji yawned next to you.

“Don’t even get me started,” Keeho rubbed his tired face.

“God, it’s only week four,” you muttered into your hands. “Is Jaemin still with us?” You looked over at the fourth member of the study group, but he walked along silently with his eyes glued forward.

“Nope,” Keeho laughs. “Let’s go get some coffee. (Y/N) you’re down to study with us after English, right?” He asks.

“Uh… let me ask,” you pulled your phone out, sending a quick text to your mom asking to stay longer to study with them. Her response was near immediate, green lighting it for you. “Yeah, I’m good to go. Where are we studying at?”

“Probably the Sciences Library,” Yeji answers.

“Sounds like a plan,” you nodded. “You guys grabbing lunch?”

“I’m down,” Keeho shrugs.

“I’m hungry,” Jaemin adds.

“Darn, I have econ, I’ll meet you guys after if you’re still together!” Yeji says.

“Yeah, okay,” you waved at her while she bounded off toward her next lecture hall.

“Let’s eat, I have meal swipes if you guys want to go to the dorms,” Keeho pulls his ID out.

“Sure, I’ll follow you there,” Jaemin nods. “(Y/N)?”

“Um…” You’d seen enough Crime Watch Daily to know this was probably a bad idea. Not that you didn’t trust them, but they were two guys significantly more built than you taking you to a dorm room.

“We could always just eat on campus if the walk’s too far,” Keeho, seemingly sensing your unease, came up with the alternative.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” you agreed.

“Nice, I’ve been wanting to try that pizza place anyway,” he leads the way and the two of you follow behind. “We have five hours until English, god,” he slumps his shoulders. “Talk about a waste of time.”

“I usually spend these gaps napping in my dorm, but I always end up sleeping in,” Jaemin yawns. “I bet you have it harder though, (Y/N), you commute.”

“Yeah, I can’t even go home because by the time I get there I’ll have to go back to campus. I usually just spend these gaps in the library,” you walked faster to keep pace with them.

“Shoot, I should be doing that too,” Keeho whines.

“What have you been doing, Keeho?”

“Spacing out,” he cries. “How are you two studying?”

“Good faith,” Jaemin answers.

“Notes revisions,” you sighed.

“Oh, good, I thought I was too far behind,” Keeho holds the door open for the both of you now as you enter the food hub. He checks his phone as he closes the door, skimming over the flurry of texts that filled his screen. “Damn, there’s a meeting for dance club soon, I completely forgot,” he shakes his head.

“How soon? Are you still studying with us later?” You ask.

“Uh… yeah, I should be able to study with you all for like… an hour,” his eyes move up in thought.

“Hell, we need you, Keeho! You’re the only one who knows what’s going on!” You exclaimed.

“Not even, I’m as average as everyone else,” he retaliates. Jaemin says something next, but whatever it was you weren’t paying attention. No, you were more preoccupied with the girl who was waiting next to the Chinese food station. Somi’s eyes were glued to her phone, and every so now and then when she scrolled the charm attached to it would hit her bracelet. She looked up at her phone briefly and made eye contact with you and you smiled, and she waved, and you waved back. “Earth to (Y/N), we need to come up with a study plan,” Keeho pulls you out of your thoughts and follows your gaze, seeing nothing, he refocuses back on the trio.

“Study plan, right,” you glanced at Somi, who was one again focused on her phone. “Why don’t we go old school and start with unit one?”

“I will kill myself if I have to read one more passage about the cell’s organelles,” Jaemin deadpans.

“How about we stick to the study questions then?” Keeho offers. The conversation continues, but instead you look to your side again, watching Somi pick up her food, wave at you once, then leave before you could wave back.

God, was that it? Was that the only in-person experience you’d had with her over these past weeks? That’s kind of pathetic. You started drawing scribbles with your finger against the table while resting your chin on your other hand. You’d spent all day today, yesterday, and probably will again tomorrow just thinking about her. Through your exchanged texts you started associating her with everything. Even reading the word ‘Hazelnut’ under the Lattes section of the campus café made you think about her. What was she doing now? On her schedule it said she was in some advanced mathematics lab in an hour, so there’s that.

You barely even noticed the day pass by until English lecture had ended, leaving the four of you in the library to study for your bio quiz tomorrow together.

“Oh, shoot,” Yeji silences her phone as soon as it blared.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“I gotta run to the apartment, my hell roommate is stirring the pot again,” she rolls her eyes. “Sorry, guys, I have to run and make sure she doesn’t break shit again,” Yeji grabs her scooter leaning against the bookshelf. “I’ll definitely study with you all tomorrow, though!” Yeji waves goodbye before she rushes off.

“Shit… I would hate to have a roommate like that,” Keeho shudders.

“The fact that she had to take off like that must mean that it’s serious,” Jaemin shakes his head.

“It’s okay, she’s got a good grasp on the content, I guess,” you skimmed through the textbook again. You, on the other hand, do not have a good grasp on the content.

“Actually, I gotta run too,” Keeho starts packing his things. “Dance club.”

“Ah, right! Good luck, Keeho!” You said.

“Thanks, I’ll catch you guys later!” Then he was off too. Jaemin sighed and readjusted his glasses before looking down at his iPad.

‘And then there were two,’ you wanted to joke, but to be honest you didn’t really know Jaemin all that well. You, Yeji, and Keeho went back to orientation, but Jaemin had joined the group rather recently at Keeho’s recommendation. Sure, he was the newest addition, and you had to admit that you didn’t hate spending time with him, he knew his stuff and you didn’t. He was quiet when you first met him, but now he had this teasing edge to him that you didn’t think you’d see. Still, though, that’s all you knew about him. You didn’t want to say it was awkward but…

“Is there something wrong?” He asks.

“Oh, no, nothing,” you shook your head. You didn’t even know you were staring.

Aw, hell, this is awkward.

“(Y/N)?” His voice was low to not disturb the other patrons.

“Yeah?”

“Real quick, what did you get on the respiration question? I just want to double check my math.”

“Oh, uh… 132,” you answered.

“Okay, I got the same,” you heard him scribble something on his iPad. Your phone buzzed on the table next to your textbook and you flipped it over, spotting the text from Somi.

‘Hey, are you busy rn?’ You answered right away.

‘Just studying, why?’

‘R u on campus?’

‘Yeah’

‘Think you can come over? If not, though, that’s okay!’ You read the text over again. She wants you to come over? Well, you did tell your parents that you were studying today but you didn’t want to leave Jaemin on his own, that felt a little rude. Then again, he does live on campus so he could easily go home after this.

‘Everything alright?’ You glanced over at Jaemin, who was engrossed in whatever he was doing.

‘Yeah’ was all she sent, but she was quick to send another. ‘No’ You looked at the time again, you had until 9 when your parents came to pick you up.

“Hey.”

“Jaemin?” You both spoke at the same time, both of your expressions surprised. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose and he pushed them back up while clearing his throat.

“You first,” he insists.

“Sure, um, I just got a text from my parents, turns out I have to leave earlier than I thought,” you lied. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to leave you alone and all, but you know how it goes.”

“Yeah, I get it, we’ll probably figure something out in the group chat,” he shrugs. “See you tomorrow.”

“Wait, what were you going to say?”

“Nothing important,” he shakes his head. “Get home safe.”

“You too,” you grabbed your things and walked off in the direction toward Somi’s apartment. This marked the second time you’d been there, and although it was straight shot from campus you still had to double check Maps to be sure you were going the right way. Your feet moved quickly, whether that was because you wanted to see her again or because you were worried, and maybe it was both, you moved with purpose. Wait, never mind, it was the anxiety. You looked every which way while you walked and you occasionally looked over your shoulder, something which would send you into momentary embarrassment when you made eye contact with some random passerby that you knew for a fact wasn’t stalking you. And before you knew it you were scrolling through contacts on your phone, but then a new anxiety hit.

You didn’t know who to call. Or, rather, you had no one to call. Yeji was a no, the worst case scenario is that you call her while her and her roommate were caught up in some intense screaming match, which has happened to you before. Keeho was a no too, he was at dance club and you didn’t want to bother him. All of your high school friends were off limits too, you knew that none of them would answer, you’re not a priority anymore after somehow becoming the low maintenance friend. It probably wasn’t a good idea to call Somi right now, plus, you’d see her in a few minutes anyway. So that left one person.

Jaemin.

But were you even close enough to do that? Close enough to call him and ask him something as simple as just staying on the line? You’d laugh if you were him. So, instead, you toughed it out. You tried to control your breathing, you tried to stay focused in front of you, and you tried to keep yourself calm. But at all times your hands clutched onto your pepper spray, your knuckles whitening from the pressure and your palms aching from it too.

Her apartment couldn’t have been any closer. You knew the walk was only ten minutes at the most but it felt like hours for you and, as soon as you’d knocked on her door, she opened it after your first knock and you felt your heart drop. There were tears in her eyes and down her face, her hair had been pulled at and tugged every which way, and her hands shook when they clasped against each other. She looked at you for only a moment longer before she shook her head and brought her hands up to either side of her head, them shaking more than before, and she shook her head again. You locked the door behind you and stepped forward, doing what you thought was right, and wrapped your arms around her shoulders to bring her head against your neck. Quietly, she sobbed. Her body shook against yours and you held her tighter while you rubbed her back gently. She held you even tighter, just like you were the only person grounding her.

But you really didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know if you should be doing anything else other than holding her like this, or if you should even be holding her a certain way. But one thing you did know, however, was that she definitely needed someone right now. And the way she started to wobble in her stance you knew it’d be better for her to sit down. So, you led her to the couch and told her that you’d be back, then you traced her steps when you first came to her apartment. You pulled out a glass from the top cabinet, some ice from the freezer, and you poured water from the water bottle next to the fridge before placing it in front of her and sitting by her side. Slowly, her head falls on your shoulder, and you readjust yourself on the couch so that you could pull her close to you while she cried.

Was this the time for you to ask her what was wrong? Should you even pry?

“I’m sorry,” she says between muted sobs.

“Don’t apologize,” you told her. “Did you want to talk about it?” She shook her head and you nodded.

“Just… stay like this for a while,” she says. You nodded again and you felt her shift so that she was more comfortable under you. “You can put something on too, if you want,” she says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I like the white noise,” she responds while she hands you the remote. You flipped through Netflix looking for really anything to watch, then you noticed the series of half watched nature documentaries on her Recently Watched. Without more thought to it, you selected Our Planet and started it from the beginning.

The time was 5:00 pm in the evening. You had four hours to be with her and to make sure she was alright, and you had no idea how fast time would go while you were sitting on this couch with her watching some generic nature documentary. But, slowly, as the documentary continued she began to comment more on the animals and their narrator, and just as slowly you relaxed into your position and your arms felt more natural around her almost like they’d always meant to be there.

~

It was like a domino effect after that. She called you over more often now, sometimes just to talk and sometimes to not talk at all, then there was the routine of watching whatever nature documentary either of you could find for the remainder of your time together. Your parents applauded you and very near bragged about you to their family members about how “studious” you were staying behind at school to work with your study group and, hey, as long as you kept your grades up you could keep this charade going. Besides, it’s not like your parents knew who you really were anyway, and it’s not like you’d ever tell them either.

Leading to now, while you laid your head down on Somi’s chest, usually it’s the other way around but you figured you’d try it this way once and, good god she was right. One of her hands was on your arm and the other held the remote. Today was the first day you initiated, you asked her first if you could come over to her apartment and she said yes, thank god. You didn’t want to impose but today you felt like you just had to see her. Today you felt like you wanted to be the one held rather than being the one who did the holding.

“Oh, what do you think of this one, (Y/N)?” She asks. The cursor was hovered over a documentary about the oceans.

“Sure, honestly, I’m a little tired anyway…” you mumbled.

“Ah, so good white noise then, huh?” She nuzzles her head against yours and presses play before tossing the remote to the side. “How was your day?” You relaxed into her chest.

“Good… good…”

“Doesn’t sound good,” she comments.

“I mean…” you thought back to your argument with your mom. Then you thought about how you lied to her, and how you’d been lying to her. She just told you that you were staying out too late, that you’d been “studying” enough, and you lied to her and said that you needed to study more, but the truth was that you’d been coming here. You’d been coming here during your gaps between lectures, you’d been coming here when you weren’t studying with your friends, and you’d even been coming here in your dreams. Always here, and always with her. Your heart raced whenever you saw her name on your phone and your heart pounded whenever you saw something that reminded you of her. But you wanted to keep a good thing good. Besides, it’s not like you were expecting anything from her. She never told you about her troubles so why would you tell her about yours? “I don’t really want to talk about it right now,” you squeezed her gently and you heard her sigh.

“Okay, if that’s what you want,” she conceded. The narrator of the documentary drowned out to you while you took your time to just be in the moment. The sun had long set and you’d been here for a while now, having come straight here right after your study session. Your dad told you much earlier to text him when you wanted him to come pick you up but you didn’t want to go home.

And that’s what you texted him a few hours ago.

‘Dad, I’m staying over at a friend’s apartment to study. You remember her, right? We studied together all the time in high school.’ You felt bad for using your longtime crush for this.

‘You should come home.’

‘I have an important exam tomorrow.’

‘Ask your mom.’

You ended up not doing that. Besides, she has your location anyway, yet another reason why you had that argument with her.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself and just above you Somi started to hum a small tune. Your breath stilled for a brief moment, feeling like the tune was more delicate than a thin pane of glass and that your thoughts were a large speaker waiting to be turned on. Quietly, you listened to the rest of the song as if it was the only thing you could hear and you felt yourself relax. You always loved being here, it was like a world away from the one you come from. A place where you know you are heard and listened to, a place where you could be yourself without fear of judging eyes and whispering lips.

“What song is that?” You asked her.

“Just a tune I used to hear a lot when I was younger,” Somi says. “I used to have this music box back at home, it was a small one made of wood and when you opened it there was the white flower that would spin around in front of a mirror that was on the lid. Technically, it was my mom’s, but I would always wind it up when I saw it. I just thought it was so pretty,” she says. “Then she would tell me this story about how my dad got it for her and what it all meant and all that romantic crap,” she added with a laugh.

“Don’t leave me hanging now,” you made a move to slip away from her but there was that slight tug back from her and you stayed in your position, “what’s the story?”

“It’s a classic. Back when they were just dating, my mom and dad had met in one of those love at first sight meet-cutes. But my mom had to come back to Korea while my dad stayed behind in Canada so he bought her that music box and a matching one for himself. They made a promise to play it at the same time every day. For my dad, it was the first thing he did in the morning. For my mom, it was the last thing she did before she slept.”

“That is so romantic,” you sighed. Imagine a kind of love like that, one that transcended distance and grew stronger because of it, and even the commitment to incorporate something as simple as winding up a music box into one’s daily routine was already a movie-worthy act of love in your book.

“I mean… yeah, my parents were the hopeless romantic types,” she says.

“Hey, um… you’re sure I can stay over, right?” You asked her.

“Yeah, of course,” she nods. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep here.”

“Wait, but are you sure? I can sleep on this couch, not like I haven’t before,” you insisted.

“Well, yeah, but those were just because of your fucked sleep schedule, (Y/N), but since you’re actually staying over I want to treat you like a proper guest,” she says. “Actually, let me get you a change of clothes real quick,” she separates from you and disappears into her room. You, meanwhile, turned to the TV, but you couldn’t stay focused on whatever was playing, being too preoccupied with the realization of wow. You’re staying the night at Somi’s apartment and she was totally cool with it. Part of you wondered if she’d say yes if you’d ask her to sleep in bed with you and part of you wondered what it would be like to be in her arms for a whole night, but was that too much to ask? Was that a boundary that you shouldn’t cross? You felt yourself start to press down on your fingernails, a habit you’d developed instead once you realized how destructive biting your nails was.

You wondered if she was as anxious as you right now.

Was it just you or was she taking a while to come out?

You looked around the apartment and you just realized it now. There were traces of you all over. Small keepsakes of things in your favorite color, small things that you owned, and small things that you’ve gifted her. You were surprised to see them all adorning various spaces and you wondered why she chose to display them. Even the blanket that was between you and the couch was something you’d picked out for her when she sent you a picture of five different colors and asked which would’ve suited her style better.

And it was true for you as well. You’d been picking up and buying things that reminded you of her constantly. Things in her favorite color, things that she owned, and things she’s gifted you. If you just took a step back and looked at the both of you from an outside perspective you’d probably think that you were in love… and maybe you were.

“Sorry for the hold up, (Y/N),” Somi returned, changed into pajamas, and with an oversized tee and a pair of shorts and handed them to you. “You know where the bathroom is.”

“Yup, I’ll be back,” you walked off and closed the door behind you, catching yourself in the mirror. You rubbed the smudged makeup under your eye and shook your head. “God… but how could she be in love with a wreck like me?” You mumbled. You pulled your shirt over your head and paused for a moment longer, taking in your reflection once more. After a moment passed, you turned your back to the mirror and continued changing, and once you’d finished you folded your clothes neatly and walked back out to shove them into your backpack.

“Ooh, you look cozy,” she opens her arms and, once more, you found yourself nestled between them.

“And you feel cozy,” you responded.

“Oh, I definitely do now,” she grins. “Now, where were we in this show? God, I love manatees, they’re just so sweet.”

“I know! So friendshaped.”

“Absolutely friendshaped!” Somi gushed.

“I used to have this three-foot manatee plush that I’d sleep with when I was younger and when I tell you I brought that thing everywhere I mean it,” you recounted.

“Now that I can see you doing,” she shifts to be more comfortable. “You seem like a huge stuffed animal gal.”

“I need to show you my collection some time.”

“A collection?”

“Yes. I’ve never thrown out a stuffed toy since I was born.”

“Oh my god, you’re a hoarder.”

“Hey, not true! I just took Toy Story a little too seriously,” you defended.

“Okay, okay, that’s fair, I love Toy Story,” she concedes. “Actually… did you want to watch it?”

“Actually? Yeah, I’m down.”

“Nice, okay,” she stands up. “I have it on DVD, but the player is in my room, you cool with moving over there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded and followed her into her bedroom.

This was the first time you’d been in here. Unsurprisingly, her bedroom really screamed ‘Somi.’ The bedroom itself was similar to the rest of the apartment with it’s neutral tones and wooden furniture, off in the corner of the room was a full sized bed with a few select stuffed animals on it and off to another was a relatively simple PC set up with the TV mounted on the wall above it such that it faced the bed. There was a dresser and a clothes rack off in the other corner of the room and in the center was a round rug to fill in the space.

“Hey, you can come join me here now,” Somi pats the bed next to her and you sit down carefully. “What, I change up the scenery and you get all shy again?” She teases and you felt your face heat up.

“I mean… well,” you swallowed nervously. “No…” you finally pushed out and you moved closer to her. She turns the TV on and skips through the trailers before starting the movie. Were you getting shy again? True, you felt this lingering sense of awkwardness around you, but that was normal. Maybe being in her bedroom did change the mood a little, but you didn’t want to say anything and risk it all. The only thing you really cared about, though, was that this was so much more comfortable than the couch, and you were living for it. Every now and then you’d hear a small chuckle from her or a muted coo and it just sent your heart into a flurry. Secretly you hoped that she felt the same, but you knew better than to be selfish.

You didn’t even realize you’d fallen asleep until the sunlight danced over you the next morning. The space next to you was empty but there were signs of someone sleeping there earlier, and you could smell the faint aroma of pancakes.

Pancakes? Oh, she’s really spoiling you here.

You pushed yourself off of the bed and wandered back out of the room and spotted Somi at the stove, a stack of pancakes slowly growing on the counter next to her, and you quietly sat yourself at the counter while you watched her ministrations. You didn’t realize it until now, but she was very clean when it came to these things. Spilled pancake batter was wiped up immediately, her hands were kept washed the entire time, and the pancake stack was near pristine. The coffee machine next to you beeped and signaled that it was done.

“(Y/N), be a dear and pour some coffee for us,” she says without turning around.

“Yeah, sure,” you took the two mugs in front of it and prepared both of them. “Two sugars and cream, right?”

“That’s right,” she slides another pancake onto the stack while you added creamer into her mug. “I wasn’t sure which kind you liked, so I made blueberry pancakes and cinnamon ones too,” she says.

“Whoa, talk about boujee pancakes,” you teased.

“I just like to add a little bit of flair,” she takes the plate and turns around to place it between you both. “So, give it a taste,” she hands you a fork.

“They smell amazing,” you cut a piece and tried your first bite, “and they taste amazing too,” you were quick to go in for another.

“Thank you, thank you,” she holds down the pancake with her fork while you pull a piece off with yours. “Did you sleep well?”

“One of the best one’s I had in a while,” you covered your mouth with your hand as you spoke, mainly out of habit than anything. “How about you?”

“Ditto,” she nods. “I ended up falling asleep partway through the movie.”

“Same, I don’t even remember what the last scene I saw was.”

“Oh, hon, you fell asleep as soon as they got to Sid’s house.”

“Really? So you fell asleep after me then!”

“Pretty sure, yeah, you are so quiet when you’re asleep that I didn’t even realize I was the only one watching the movie.”

“Oh, dammit, we’re going to have to watch it again some time for sure then!”

“Next time you sleepover then,” she says.

“Definitely,” you answered without another thought.

The time was 9 in the morning. You knew that both of you had classes in two hours, but at that time it didn’t seem like either of you cared. Instead you were both more preoccupied with the person in front of them and how their eyes seemed to have a different shine in them than before, and there was also that new and slight upturn of one another’s lips that signaled a soft and sweet enjoyment that can only be found in the mornings when you are just barely awake, the first of what you hoped would be many.

~

And many it was. At this rate it was like you were living together with how often you stayed over. What was once only a few of your items became many. In the medicine cabinet next to the bathroom sink there were now two toothbrushes, the shelves were overflowing with various skincare products, the number of towels doubled, and suddenly the shampoo and conditioner bottles ran out faster. More food stocked the fridge and pantries, and the dishes piled faster than before. There was a slight and subtle change to the aesthetics of the apartment what with your own creative additions on top of Somi’s. Yours and her clothing mixed together, your styles adapting to one another, and soon you both realized that you were wearing the same outfits.

From an outsider’s perspective, anyone would have put a label on what the two of you had. But you’d never know, because this world existed only in the confines of this apartment. Even if the two of you ran into each other on campus, a very rare occurrence, your interactions were limited to small smiles and short waves. Your group of friends and her group of friends remained separate and oblivious to your growing situationship, and you were both careful in how you worded your experiences with each other to them.

In truth, you had to admit it, you’d fallen hopelessly in love with this woman, and you prayed that she felt the same. Never had either of you two dare utter a single word that could have alluded to something more than your casual relationship, for you it was because you didn’t want to lose her, and for her, you think, it’s because she didn’t see you that way at all. Oh, how you want to ask, how you want to pick apart her thoughts and find out just what she really thinks of you and whether or not you have a chance. You think you love her, if love is the word that describes the way your heart beats when you see her face, if love is the word that describes the way you daydream and fantasize of a life together, and if love is the word that describes the way you yearn for her touch every day, then yes, you love her.

“Wait, repeat that?” You asked her. You had agreed to help her get ready for a night out between your classes, anything just to be around her.

“It's easy, (Y/N),” she says while holding the rollers in her hands. “Start at the bottom, roll up.”

“Okay…" you took the roller.

“You've never used a roller?”

“I only use curling irons.”

“Oh, honey, those are so bad for your hair!” Your heart fluttered.

“I know, I know!” You took a small bunch of her hair, flattened it out, and rolled it around the roller. “Too tight?”

“Just right,” she hands you a clip and you secured it in place before picking up the next roller.

“So, what's the occasion tonight?” You asked her while getting started on the other roller.

“Blind date,” she shrugs. You swallowed harshly. It was instances like this, at 2:54 in the afternoon, that held you back from asking for the truth. If you had brought up to her that you’d fallen in love, would she cut this off forever? Short and casual, that was what she had written on her profile. She told you from the get go that she wasn’t expecting romance, just comfort, and you had willingly agreed, not knowing or thinking how it would come back to bite you.

“Oh yeah?” You finally answered.

“Yeah, my friends set me up with him,” she mutters. That didn’t sound right.

“Him?” You asked. Her expression falters for a moment and she hesitates before answering.

“Yeah, him,” she confirms.

Looks like you both had the same secret, then. You wanted to probe more, though, but you knew better than to pry, and who were you to talk anyway? You’d only ever come out to that creep in your class to get him to leave you alone. Your family doesn’t know, your friends don’t know, and you barely found out recently. Then, it all made sense, the fact that you both had your own world within these walls and you didn’t dare let it slip out into the world beyond. It was that certain fear that held you both back and, hell, maybe it was that same fear that held you back from confessing your true feelings to her too. You didn't even realize you paused your actions until her eyes slid up to look at yours through your reflections. 

“Okay,” you continued rolling her hair. “Have fun.” You didn’t mean for the responses to sound so curt.

“Thanks, (Y/N),” she smiles. Maybe you were imagining it, but there seemed to be some disappointment in it. Should you have said something? Should you have told her not to go? Held her back in some way? You were never good at reading people.

“All done,” you secured the last roller and leaned back.

“Whoa, you’re a natural, (Y/N),” she turns her head to either side to make sure all her hair had been tightly wrapped around the rollers. “Thanks, hon, sorry to eat up your gap time like this,” she turns to you.

“It’s fine! If I had something important I would’ve told you,” you reassured her. Truth be told, you probably should have stayed on campus. Your study group was cramming for your bio test as you spoke right now.

“I think I got it from here though, I won’t keep you if you have to study,” she says and you felt yourself pressing down on your fingernails again. Were you overthinking it? Did she want you to leave? Why would she bring that up if she wanted you to stay? You swallowed harshly yet again.

“I do have a midterm in a couple of hours…”

“Oh, shoot! Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Somi gasps. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N)!”

“No, no! Don’t apologize! It’s fine,” you waved your hand in front of you. “But, I think I’ll catch my study group, then, they should still be in the science library,” you checked the time.

“Yeah, yeah! No worries!”

“Let me know how your date goes,” you teased her.

“God, I can already feel that it’s going to be a whole train wreck,” Somi groans while she shakes her head. “I’ll see you soon, (Y/N),” she says.

“See you soon,” you grabbed your things and waved goodbye to her before leaving her apartment. You shot a quick text to your group chat, telling the rest of the study group that you were on your way.

‘Thank god, (Y/N)! You’re the only one who knows anything for this class’ You could almost hear Yeji’s voice.

‘Jaem keeps saying he knows but then we double check and he’s WRONG’ Keeho’s was as easy to hear as ever.

‘at least i’m trying’ Jaemin types the way he talks. Luckily for you, campus was only a ten minute walk away, not bad but not good either, and it took another five to get to the science library from where you were now, which left you a good three hours before your midterm.

And, in no time at all, you were seated with your study group in a room that Keeho had miraculously reserved for the whole semester. Good on him for thinking ahead, because this room had been witness to your development as a friend group. From the actual study sessions at the beginning, to the now prolonged breaks filled with trauma dumps from everyone, the third floor room 346 is a study room that will remain in your memories.

“So I told him ‘no and fuck off’ before storming out of that party,” Yeji rolls her eyes.

“(Y/N),” Jaemin said your name quietly so as not to disturb Yeji’s and Keeho’s pep talk with each other. You lean closer to him and he circles one of the practice questions with his stylus. You nod your head and look back at your worksheet.

“Oh, okay, so what you want to do first is determine the common trait those two have, then you can determine the common ancestor from that,” you explained to him.

“Got it, okay,” he returns to his world of studying while you did the same. Though seated next to each other, you each had your own bubble you stayed within, he was just so ‘in the zone’ when he studied and you were so ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ when you study that just thinking of intruding on each other would be catastrophic. But, before you could realize it, you were drawing scribbles on your notes and wondering how Somi’s date was going. You glanced at your phone, wondering if she’d send you an SOS text or start live texting the date to you, but your lock screen remained silent, with the only notifs coming in being from your classes. You focused on another question and immediately drew a blank.

“Hey, Jaem?” You glanced at the other two, who were now having a conversation about what the next best anime would be this season, before turning to Jaemin, who’s head had turned toward you while waiting for you to continue. “For number 34, does this have to do with mitochondrial genetics?”

“Uh…” he glances at his notes and flips through a few pages. “Yes?” He didn’t sound too sure. “Let me double check that, I thought it was just X-Linked genetics.”

“Wait, no, I can see that,” you looked at your notes again. “Sorry, can we compare notes really quick? I know it’s on this slide but I think I might have fallen asleep during this part of the lecture,” you slid your tablet toward him and he did the same with his and you both looked between your notes slides.

“Oh, here’s what you’re missing,” Jaemin highlighted the section that you didn’t write down.

“Thanks,” you both turned to each other and your breath caught in your throat.

Now, when did you two get so close to each other? Just inches apart and one wrong move could lead to some kind of physical contact. Jaemin’s glasses slide down the roof of his nose and, without thinking about it, you gently grabbed the junction of the arm and the frame to push it back up for him.

“Thank you too,” Jaemin was the first to pull back and, with one glance toward the other two, it became clear that they didn’t witness any of what had just happened. You turned to your notes, your body somewhat twisting away from his direction while you busied yourself with… cell anatomy. Dammit, (Y/N), if you were going to choose one slide to pretend to study at least make it something confusing like Hardy Weinberg.

But what was this feeling that creeped up on you? The way your heart skipped a beat when you turned toward him and saw just how close he was, it left your face heated and your breath unsteady. The last time you felt this way was with Somi, when you woke up from an impromptu nap and caught a small glimpse of her face while she read what had to be an engaging book of some sort. This was probably nothing, you think. It’s completely different than what you felt with Somi. You think so, at least. You shook your head, holding your hand to it to feign a headache.

“Oh, fuck, T minus one hour until that midterm,” Keeho panics.

“God, what kind of class has three midterms?! It’s called midterm for a reason!” Yeji finally opens her textbook.

“Numbers don’t define us,” Keeho mutters.

“For fucking real,” Yeji downs her coffee and focuses on the page in front of her.

Needless to say, that midterm was fucking horrible. Every single thing you had decided to ghost over because it was ‘common sense’ was worth a hefty twenty points in an exam you didn’t think would be free response. You swear you could hear the gears in your head moving on overdrive when you would have to reread another unfortunate question.

“I’m dropping out,” Yeji said as soon as you left the lecture hall.

“Numbers don’t define us,” Keeho repeated under his breath. You pulled your phone out and unsilenced it, and near instantly your phone flurried with notifications from whatever, but only two stood out to you.

‘Are you coming home today?’ Your sister.

‘Can you come over?’ Somi.

“Christ… I’m just gonna go home,” Yeji yawns. “I can’t, guys, like, I know we planned for ‘Hot Girl’ dinner but I am not feeling too hot after that,” she shakes her head.

“Wait, seriously? No way,” Keeho’s shoulders slump.

“Let’s just do it tomorrow, Keeho, I want to pass out,” Yeji argues.

“Yeah, I might go home too, that all nighter we pulled was intense,” Jaemin says.

“Damn… okay, fine, Yeji, I’ll walk with you back, my dorm’s on the way too.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Yeji waved and walked off with Keeho running close behind her.

“How about you, then?” Jaemin looks to you. You chanced a glance up at him.

“Uh…” you hesitated. “Don’t know yet,” you shrugged.

“I’ll walk you over to the pickup area,” Jaemin offers, “only if you want though,” he quickly added.

“Uh… yeah, yeah, I’d appreciate that,” you nodded your head and you both were on your way, neither text on your phone answered just yet. Jaemin’s hands were in his pocket, a miracle considering his messenger bag was somehow balanced on one shoulder. You didn’t know what it exactly was, but something about the way the sunset hit him framed him perfectly. His eyes slant over toward you.

“What are you looking at?”

“Nothing, just wondering what your skin care routine is,” you covered.

“Cleanser then moisturizer,” he shrugged.

“It’s always the boys who don’t care who have the best genes,” you sighed. You both came to a stop at the drop off, him waiting for you and you waiting to make a decision. 

“(Y/N), actually, could I—” he is cut off by a loud brring startling both you and him. Somi’s name appeared on your phone and you scrambled to answer it.

“Sorry, Jaem, give me a second,” you apologized quickly and held it to your ear.

“(Y/N)?” Somi’s voice was different. “Sorry, I’m sorry if you’re busy, but could you come over? Please?”

“I, uh,” you looked over to Jaemin, who wasn’t listening to you intentionally. He rose an eyebrow toward you as if to ask if something was wrong. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” you said.

“Thank you, thank you, just… take your time, it’s okay.” Name a more obvious way to tell you to get there as soon as possible.

“Sorry, Jaemin, that was a…” you trailed off, trying to find the right word to use, “friend of mine.” It didn’t feel right to call her that. “She really needs some help right now, I think I’ll head over to her apartment,” you pointed in its general direction. “What were you trying to tell me again?” You looked at him and he shook his head.

“Nothing important,” he says. “I was just going to ask when you were going to get your license,” he smiles at the end and you pushed him lightly.

“Jerk.”

“I’m just asking,” he raises his hands up.

“Soon, okay? I’m working on it!” You rolled your eyes. “But, still, thanks… I appreciate you waiting with me.”

“Any time, did you want me to walk you over to your friend too?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you waved your hand. “But, uh… if I call you, just pick up, you don’t have to say anything,” you added. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” he waited for you to leave first, and that you did. Your phone was in your hand, having typed out an apology to your sister and a confirmation to Somi. You chanced a look back at your friend, ready to wave goodbye, but, instead, he was sitting down on the bench, his elbows on his knees and his hands covering his face. You looked down at your phone again, a recent text from Somi telling you to take your time, but you knew better, you knew her better. But Jaemin was also your friend too. But Somi… You turned away from him and continued on your way.

When was the last time she called you when she was like this? A while ago, actually. You really didn’t have time to think about it, as soon as you got to her apartment and you saw that it was unlocked, you knew that there was something very wrong. You locked the door on your way in and looked around. The apartment was silent, clean, and untouched.

“Somi?” You called out to her. No answer. You walked further into the apartment, checking her usual spots. The couch was empty, the kitchen unused, and the bathroom was wide open too, and that left one place. The walk to her bedroom seemed much longer than usual, but when you finally got to it, your hand hovered in front of the door, ready to knock but not knowing what exactly to say. Carefully, gently, you knocked on it.

“It’s open,” Somi’s voice was quiet. You opened the door as slowly as you’d knocked on it and you saw her wrapped up in her comforter in bed. You approached her and she turned away so that her back was facing you. Your heart ached for her, there was this inexplicable draw that dragged you toward her and you wanted nothing more than to comfort her and to find out just what happened for her to near seclude herself like this.

“Hey, it’s cool if I sit on your bed in jeans, right?” You tried to joke with her. No response. You sat down with your back to her now. You twisted so that you could see the outline of herself hidden under that huge blanket. “What happened?” You chanced a dangerous question. You never asked what’s wrong, she never asked what’s wrong, you just called or texted one another and you showed up here. This was a barrier, one of many that you both agreed to put up, if she answered you now then what would that mean for the both of you? She didn’t answer, and you thought that that was it, you turned away and shook your head, you didn’t know why you even asked.

“It was bad… really bad,” she answered. You turned to her and she was looking at you.

“Oh, Somi,” you leaned down and brushed the hair out of her face and tucked the loose strands behind her ear. Her lips slipped into a frown for a moment before it flattened again. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“I…” she hesitated and averted her eyes for a moment. “I’m not out to my friends.”

“Neither am I,” you shook your head.

“They keep setting up these dates with these guys they think I’d like, and I keep going to them thinking maybe something will be different,” she shakes her head. “But… no, they always end up the same. I hate it, I hate those men they’re all the same in the end they’re all…” she trails off and shakes her head again. “He was a real asshole, (Y/N), I wish you were there to see it.”

“The money I’d pay to see you talk some sense into him,” you agreed.

“Homophobic asshole…” she grimaced. “I, uh… I told him at the end of the date that I had fun, but I didn’t want to give him false hope. So… I told him I didn’t think we should have a second date,” Somi’s voice started to wobble.

“And?” This was it, the meat of the story.

“He called me a dyke.”

“Oh that asshole,” you gasped.

“I know! I know, and you know me, usually I’d fight back but…” she stops. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything because if I did then I’d be coming out to some ugly, no life jerk who throws a hissy fit when he doesn’t get what he wants,” she sits up, but keeps the blanket tightly wrapped around her. “That’s the thing with this country… people don’t get what they want so instead they find other ways to degrade others even if they don’t know the meaning of their words,” she says quietly. “Nearly every man I’ve tried to go on a date with has been so… so horrible, I…” she struggled to get her words out.

“It’s okay, Somi, it’s okay,” your hands tangled in her hair and you did your best to comfort her. “But… he didn’t do anything to you, right?”

“No, I got out before he had the chance,” she says. “It’s just that… I don’t know, he was so aggressive and I was just so scared,” she shuts her eyes as if to shut the memory out. “But it got me thinking, of course every date I’ve had with men was horrible, I’m not attracted to them. Yet on the other side every woman I’ve dated hasn’t ended well either. I think I have something good and then they’re gone. Faster than I could ask what happened,” she covers her face in her hands and drags it down her face. Then, silently, she reaches into the drawer next to her and pulls out a small box and a lighter. “I…” she stops talking, holding the cigarette between her lips. She looks at the lighter in her hands and, after some hesitation, she hands it to you. “Keep this away from me.” You nodded and placed it on a further shelf. She rolls the cigarette from one side of her mouth to another.

“You smoke?”

“Used to.”

“Used to?”

“Sophomore year was hard.”

“Is that a warning?”

“Sure.”

“I can barely make it through my freshman courses,” you chuckled. She pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and chucked both back into the drawer. “If you used to smoke, then why do you keep those?”

“I don’t really know,” she shrugs, “you saw me just now, if I didn’t stop to think about it, I probably would have rebounded,” she places a hand on her forehead and brushes her hair back. “God, (Y/N), I’m a wreck, aren’t I?” She looks at you sadly and you freeze. What should you say?

“Yeah, you are,” you nodded your head. You probably could have worded that better. “But that makes you you, right? You wouldn’t be Somi if you didn’t fuck up here and there.”

“Even if those fuck ups are, like, really bad?”

“Even if they’re really bad, yeah,” you nodded again.

“(Y/N), I’ve done so many things that I’ve regretted,” she says.

“I’m sure we both have.”

“Oh, (Y/N), you don’t even know,” she hit her head against the wall. “With all the shit I’ve done to my previous partners… it’s no wonder I’ll never be loved like that again,” she closes her eyes gently now.

“Hey, don’t say that,” you answered too quickly. She opened her eyes and they landed on you. It was offensive, almost, for her to say that. You loved her, you think you do. Even now, just being here, your heart beat towards her and your thoughts were filled of her at almost every waking hour. You loved her, and she didn’t see that, or she didn’t want to. “There’s plenty to love about you,” you added quietly.

“Like what?”

“Like how you look out for everyone, even if you don’t like them,” you thought about more, “like how you modify your recipes when you know someone doesn’t like a certain ingredient, or like how you wake up early whenever people stay over to make them breakfast…” you catch yourself, pausing for a moment, and never once did she look away from you. She knew it as much as you did and she probably caught onto it before you did too. “Somi, I…” you looked at her and, without saying anything more, she leaned toward you, her hand resting on your cheek and then she stopped, just centimeters away from your lips. Your eyes widened and both of your breaths stilled.

Another barrier.

Skinship only, no kissing. No feelings, no strings, and no expectations for something more. That was the deal.

But you didn’t like that deal anyway.

You closed the gap. Your lips pressed against her’s softly, and it felt wonderful. This surge of ecstasy shot through you and left you wanting more, and when she pressed forward against you it was like pure bliss. It was her who pushed away first, and before you could say anything, she beat you to the punch.

“Better than orientation?”

“Way better,” you nodded slightly. A small smile rose on her lips and she looked away for a moment before looking to you again.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Yes,” you both leaned into each other and held onto the other, with every kiss growing in intensity and every touch being softer and still more passionate than before and as this barrier fell and crumbled, another threatened to fall. Her hand rested on your bare hip and yours wandered around her body, was this alright? Was this safe? Was this something you should do? You felt this desire in you that you’d never felt before, but you were afraid that it was going to fast, you were afraid that you’d mess up in your motions and that you’d never see her again, but you couldn’t stop, you didn’t want to stop.

There’s no going back.

You gripped onto the hem of your shirt and her hand wraps around your wrist.

“Are you sure?” She asks you. She’s never had a more serious look before.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you nodded and she let your hand go. You pulled your shirt over your head and she did the same with hers, then she wrapped her hands around you and snapped your bra open before pulling it off, and again the two of you connected. Your hands, unsure, moved to her breasts, and you fondled them the same way you did your own those sparing times you’d found the chance to explore yourself, and as you did so her lips trailed along your face. You moved until you were straddling her now and her hands hooked under your waistband.

“I hate jeans in bed,” she says against your skin.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you answered.

“God, they’re just so damn hard to pull off,” she says with an airy laugh. You laughed too, pressing your forehead against her shoulder, you helped her pull your jeans off and soon you were left in nothing but your panties. And all the while you avoided your own gaze in the mirror. Of all the times to think of this, your first time would be marked by your own fear. Somi moved to the other side of you, crawling off the bed and turning you with her and away from the mirror, she kneels on her carpeted floor nestled between your legs. She tugs at the elastic now and you nod your head, watching her slowly pull your panties off until they dropped to the floor.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” She looks up at you, both of her hands were resting on your thighs. She massaged slow circles into them. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you told her. “But, I trust you,” you added.

“We can stop, it’s okay if you’re not comfortable.”

“No, no, it’s okay, we can keep going,” despite your words, you couldn’t look at her, your face was too hot with embarrassment. She presses small kisses to your thighs now, and the air against your now exposed pussy was cold. You let out small whimpers as she moved up the inside of your thighs and stopped just before your pussy. “It’s okay, I trust you,” you told her. She blew onto your clit softly.

“I’ll go slow,” she says before lightly licking up your pussy. Your whole body shuddered around her, and you did your best to keep your legs opened. She pushes forward and you felt her tongue start to move around inside of you, pulling out strained sounds you didn’t even know you could make. “Just relax, (Y/N), I’ll take care of you,” she says against you, only eliciting another moan.

“Mm, Somi, I…” you swallowed your words down when she gently sucked at your clit. “It feels, ah, it feels good…” your voice trailed off and you felt yourself start to relax, though your hands squeezed at the bedding under you. Her tongue starts to move deeper into you and you sighed. Then you felt her push a finger into your pussy and your whole body tensed again. She paused for a moment. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you pushed her forward and she continued. You could feel your wetness start to pool under you and the embarrassment grew. But you couldn’t think about it for long, no, not when she added another finger and started to make slight scissoring motions with them. Your hands slid against the comforter as you moaned more.

“You’re doing well, (Y/N),” Somi praises you.

“I…” your words are swallowed up by your pleasure again. “I feel tight,” you muttered.

“That’s okay, baby, just let it out,” she guides you.

“Mm,” you grasped at the couch cushions and you felt your hips buck forward, your pussy clamped down on her fingers and you let out a loud groan before relaxing again.

“Oh, honey, don’t tell me that’s the first time you cummed,” she props her head up on one elbow. First time someone’s made you cum, that’s for sure, but not the first time you’ve cummed at all. “So quickly too…” she clicks her tongue.

“I…” your face was hot with… something. You’d never felt this way before, but, again, you’d never experienced this before, you’d never experienced this level of passion. Then, with both hands on either side of your thighs, she rose up and pressed her lips to yours in a searing yet soft kiss. You could taste the bitterness of yourself on her, it mixed with that lingering taste of strawberry ice cream you’d both shared earlier, and, in whatever hot fervor you had, you opened your lips slightly and pushed against her, allowing for her to deepen the already sensual kiss. “I want to do that again,” you told her when you finally pulled away.

“Are you sure?” She asked this question, yet her hand rested on the inside of your thigh, ready to move at a moment’s notice. Her thumb ran circles over the sensitive skin in a teasingly slow motion that still somehow had you reeling. You could only nod your head shakily, wanting— no— needing more. You’d never felt this way before and you wanted so much more. She began to press kisses down your jawline, now, as she lowered you to your back and slid her hand up your legs and over your pussy. She presses two fingers in now and you let out a quick gasp before pressing your head against the mattress. She lowered her face to your clit once more, being precise in her movements, and her tongue swirled around your clit, flicking it up every so now and then and leaving you a moaning mess against her. She pressed sloppy kisses against your pussy now, making obscene noises all along the way while swallowing your wetness whenever she found the opportunity to do so. Your hand pressed down on the top of her head, this newfound pleasure becoming more and more addicting, and in your search to find something— anything to touch, you ended up lightly squeezing your own breast, playing with the nipple that had grown much more sensitive.

Then you felt that tightness growing in your abdomen again, the tell tale sign of pleasure, but right before you felt it reach its climax you stopped, nudging her head for her to look at you.

“Yes?” There was a small smile on her lips.

“Could I…” you swallowed harshly, still panting from your moans before. “Could I try it?” You asked her. She rests her head against your thigh.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that, baby,” she cooed. You turned away for a moment, your face hot with pleasure and embarrassment.

“Oral, let me try it,” you were able to push out. Again, she grins, a Cheshire like smile like she’d heard what she wanted, and she stood up slowly, sensually, and pulled her shorts down before sitting next to you with a small bouncing motion.

“Okay,” she says. “Give it a shot, I’m already worked up anyway,” she says. You chanced a quick look over of her, the wet patch on her underwear out in plain sight. “Or… did you need some help with that?” She brought one leg up while leaving the other hanging off the bed.

“No, I can do it,” you leaned down, pulling her panties off with some confidence before immediately losing it.

“Just take it slowly,” she says. You nodded slightly, trying to do as she did with you albeit sloppier with your inexperience. Then, steeling yourself with whatever, you licked your tongue up one of her lips that dripped with wetness. “Whoa, baby, relax,” despite the levelness of her words, you felt her legs tighten slightly around your head, “slower, take your time,” she says while gently running her thumb along your collarbone.

Slowly, okay, you can do that. You tried to replicate what she did earlier, though it was obviously affected by your inexperience, when you heard her quieted sighs you felt this entirely different rush than before, just as if something had sparked within you.

“Mm, okay, let’s, ah, let’s take it up now,” Somi rubs the top of your head slightly, then she moves her hand to her pussy, spreading it open for you. “Know what I mean?” She was barely out of breath while she traced them with her index finger, hinting to you what she wanted you to do. Again, your nod was unsure, but you leaned forward and pressed an experimental finger into her, eliciting a sharp gasp from her.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologized quickly.

“No, no, don’t apologize, it feels good,” she nodded against the pillows. “Deeper, (Y/N),” she nods firmer. You obliged and, as you did so, she pulled you up to her so that you straddled her waist and she pushed your head down against hers, locking your lips into yet another open kiss. Your tongues moved against each other, probing and swirling all around while you boldly added another finger to prompt Somi to kiss you harder with both arms wrapped around your neck. She separated from you only once, just enough to lean against your ear to whisper praises while you finger fucked her for the first time. “Good, girl, just like— haa,” her head hit the cushion hard while her body tensed under you. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” She asks.

“Not on anyone, no, just on myself,” you answered. You felt the walls of her pussy clamp around your fingers and you leaned forward so that your head was next to hers. Your heads turn to each other and, before you could say anything more, she presses her lips against yours. 

“Did you know that you’re dripping all over my bed?” She grins before moving you so that you were beneath her, “tell me if you want me to stop,” she says before bending down to your pussy and attaching her lips to it, eating you out with a new fervor you’d thought you’d only ever see in porn. Every now and then she’d look up at you with wide eyes that’d relax into more sultry ones as each lick was followed with a line of slick from your vag. 

It was all so… erotic. The way she held your legs open, the way she swirled her tongue inside of you, and— god— the way she looked at you. You felt like cumming from that alone.

It was a long night. You didn’t have a chance to check the time, you didn’t really care much for it right now. All you could think about was her, Somi, and the way she drove you into bliss. You’re pretty sure you loved her, you trusted her at least, you trusted her with your first time, and you were enjoying every second of it.

~

Again it was like a domino effect. That first time with her was certainly not the last. Every now and then she would bring up some strange thing she found in her “research” and she’d ask if you’d want to try it, and near every time you’d said yes. You were open to exploring your sexuality and so was she. You’d tried a lot now together, actually, role play, ice play, sensory deprivation, and even some shibari, which the two of you would likely never do again. You should’ve been more wary when she came back with a Home Depot bag in hand and a devilish glint in her eyes.

So this is what it felt like, friends with benefits. Just sex, sex, and more sex, and if you were lucky there was the cuddle session somewhere in between too, but you didn’t hate it. You rather enjoyed it, spending time with her and trying new things, and always after it ended the same way regardless of whether or not you or her were tired. Before you knew it, you and Somi had been together in this strange relationship for near four months now, a track that you were sure that only you were keeping track of, celebrating milestones in silence and maybe overthinking the days she seemed a little more affectionate that overlapped with those milestones. Some days you wondered if this was how things usually went, was this the normal pacing of a relationship? You wished you had someone to ask, someone to talk to about this, but, amazingly, these four months stayed within these walls, unknown to the outside world.

“They always make those cakes look so good,” Somi says with a slight twinge of disbelief. Her arms were wrapped around your nude body and you nodded against her chest.

“I always crave cake, too,” you sighed. This was the usual aftercare.

The Great British Baking Show. Or better known as the show that turned you and Somi into backseat bakers.

“Ugh, the green and blue did not mix well together,” you commented.

“Honestly! She should’ve gone for the blue and purple, or at least a different shade of green,” she adds on.

“We should try baking sometime,” you wondered aloud.

“Oh we definitely should,” she nods while her hands wander further down.

“Somi,” your voice had a warning tone. It’s not that you didn’t want to have sex, it’s more that you wanted to finish this episode.

“Come on, I’ll pause the show.”

“No, it’s not the same,” you shook your head.

“Fine, fine,” her hands nestle on your hips once more, but her lips still moved about, biting softly on the shell of your ear. “You look like you want to ask me something,” she said quietly.

“Uh… yeah, do you think I can stay over tonight?” You asked. Tonight was one of those rare nights both of your parents would be out of the house and your younger sibling was staying over at a friend’s. The house was empty, and having Somi over was a bad idea considering the Ring cameras all outside your house, and so the next best thing was to stay over. Plus, you finally did the right thing and got your parents’ blessing to stay the night at a “friend’s” house.

“Not tonight, I’m sorry, (Y/N). I have plans later tonight,” she says.

“No, no, all good, I’ll ask another friend of mine,” you nodded.

“Are you sure?” Before you could answer her, her doorbell rang, and while you made a move to get more comfortable in her covers, she stood up straight. “Shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” You sat up now, the comforter that previously covered you fell onto your lap. She looks at you before looking at her bedroom door.

“Oh, fuck, I completely forgot,” she rubs her hair harshly and tumbles out of bed, falling harshly on the floor.

“Somi! Oh my god, be careful!” You followed her and helped her up, and as soon as she was on her two legs, she shoved a set of clothes in her hands.

“Get dressed, (Y/N), my parents are here.”

“Your parents are what?!” You scrambled to put your bra on.

“Here! They’re here! I forgot, my mom flew in recently and of course she’d want to visit me, I… fuck!” She fell back on her bed in a rushed attempt to pull on a pair of shorts.

“Parents, oh hell…” your hand covered your mouth. Parents, you’re about to meet her parents. Now this isn’t something you’d predicted at all, but then again you and Somi had been doing this, whatever this was, for almost two months now. But parents? Her parents? Oh hell, you’re so fucked. You don’t even know what to say to them, how would you introduce yourself to them? How would you even explain why you were in Somi’s apartment wearing her clothes? Your mind was tossed into a spiral that you hadn’t felt in a very long time, and you felt this strange sense of dread forming in your abdomen.

“Okay, okay, this is fine, just act natural, (Y/N),” you both rush out into the main room and you took a seat on the couch while Somi opened the door.

“Mom, dad!” Somi grinned ear to ear and you swear you saw a halo of light form around her head. “Come in, come in! How was the flight?” She’s almost too good at hiding.

“It was good, enjoyable even,” her mother says. She then notices you. “Oh! Did you have a friend over?” You waved shyly.

“I did, yes, mom, dad, this is my best friend (Y/N),” she gestures toward you. But you stopped listening after she called you her best friend. What the hell was that? You literally had your entire tongue all up in her pussy less than an hour ago and now you’re just best friends? You held it in, took a deep breath, and smiled.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Douma,” you greeted them.

“Oh! Hi there,” her mother grins. “I didn’t know Ennik had such pretty friends.”

“Ennik?” You glanced over at her.

“Right, right, you like to go by Somi,” her father laughs.

“I don’t want to intrude, so I think I’ll head out now,” you made a move to head toward the front door, but her mom stops you.

“No, no! You should stay, (Y/N). Come on, I’ll make food for all of us,” she insists. And who were you to say no? You thought that at one point they would be your in-laws, but now you were starting to feel like that was a delusion.

And now that you were all seated at a table together, you felt like you’d learned so much about Somi, Ennik, all together. But, of all the cute things that her parents shared, there was one glaring truth that pierced your heart. Somi hadn’t come out to them. To her parents, she was still straight.

“How was that boy I set you up with, Ennik?” Her mother asks. A boy? You didn’t hear about her meeting anyone, not since that incident weeks ago.

“He was fine,” Somi responded as if she’d been practicing.

“I heard you went on more than three dates this time,” she chuckles. “Usually you give up after the first one, I guess this one was special, right? See, hon? I told you! No one knows our Ennik better than I do,” she nudges her husband.

“That’s right, mom!” Somi matched her energy. But all you could do was play with your food. Occasionally you’d eat a bite here and there so that they didn’t suspect, but there was just this heavy pit in your heart that threatened to swallow you whole, and for some reason it made you nauseous. Was it just you or was it hard to breathe in here? “Well, (Y/N)?” Somi’s mother turned to you.

“Sorry?” You shook your head.

“Oh, I was just wondering if you had a nice boy in your life too! You’re very pretty, I’m sure the boys are lining up to meet you,” she chuckles. The first person you thought of was Jaemin. Would he even be open to being in a relationship with you? He struck you as the kind of guy who was focusing on his education more than looking for something to commit to. But you wouldn’t say that you couldn’t see a future with him. Though you had to admit, while you saw yourself having something short with Jaemin, you could see your whole life with the woman to your right side.

“Yeah, there’s someone I’m interested in,” you finally answered, whether you were thinking of Somi or Jaemin you didn’t have time to figure out.

“See! Maybe since Ennik is with someone like you she’d find someone to settle down with,” her mother grins. “You should introduce Ennik to some of your friends.”

“Mom!” Ennik’s face reddens with embarrassment.

“I’m just saying, honey, your father and I want to take care of our grandchildren soon! You’re not getting any younger,” she says.

“Honey, maybe we shouldn’t talk about this with a stranger at the table,” Somi’s dad cuts in.

“Oh, it’s fine, they’re friends, right?” Somi’s mother looks to Somi, and you looked to her as well.

“Yeah, mom, (Y/N) and I are just friends!” She didn’t have an ounce of remorse on her features. You of all people should understand, you weren’t out to your parents either, but to lie to her parents with no consideration toward you? It didn’t even look like she regretted it one bit, and you knew Somi to wear her emotions on her sleeve. You turned away and drank some of your water. How ridiculous this all was, maybe it was always one sided from the start and everything these past few weeks was some delusion you fed yourself. How stupid of you to trust that you could give her your heart, how stupid of you. It was both of your agreed boundaries from the start to never expect anything deeper. There was a whole other conversation going on in front of you, one you weren’t a part of, and suddenly you felt this cold isolation building around you. Your skin was chilled but your heart was racing, and not in the good way. You felt all of your nerves tense up and you could feel the cold sweat at the back of your neck.

You had to get out of here.

You turned your phone over under the table and, keeping the screen hidden from Somi, you set a timer to go off after two minutes. Two minutes, that’s all you needed to pretend like everything was fine, and you’d pretend that someone was on the phone.

Brring!

Someone beat you to the punch. You canceled the timer and answered it without looking at the caller ID, you didn’t have the thought to. You just needed an excuse to leave.

“I’m sorry, I need to take this,” you apologized to her parents, who were staring right at you. “Hello?” You spoke while you stood up. You pushed your chair in and walked off into the bathroom.

“Hey, (Y/N).” It was Jaemin. You looked at yourself in the mirror, but then you quickly averted your eyes and leaned against the bathroom sink.

“Hey, Jaem, what’s up?” You asked him. He’s not the kind to call you.

“Are you busy?” You looked at the locked door.

“Not really, why?” You answered after some hesitation.

“Are you still on campus? If you’re free, I was wondering if we could study together at Starbucks.”

“Oh, right, for the precalc quiz, right?”

“Yeah.” Strange, Jaemin’s best subject was precalc right now. If you strained enough, you could hear the conversation behind you. Something about you.

“Sure, I’ll be there, I’ll head over right now.”

“Right now? Yeah, sure, I’m already here.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan, I’ll see you in a bit,” you caught your reflection on the medicine cabinet’s mirror and you wiped away the tears from your eyes.

“See you.” You hung up first, turning around fully and fixing your face before you walked back out.

“I’m sorry about that,” you apologized quickly.

“Who was that?” Somi asks, her voice noticeably different from before, but you couldn’t quite distinguish why.

“Uh… Jaemin,” you couldn’t, shouldn’t, come up with a lie.

“Who’s that?” Somi asks. No, you knew what that was. Your jaw tensed up and you took a second to calm down.

“Just someone I’m interested in,” you answered. Somi’s expression remained flat, though, but you could see some hint of shock in her eyes.

“And that’s how you do it, Ennik, if there’s someone you’re interested in, you pursue after them. This is why you keep complaining about being alone here!” Her mother shouts. You looked between them.

“Christ, mom! You’re doing this now?!” Somi finally lost her patience.

“Stop it, both of you!” Her father shouts. “You should go, (Y/N), I’m sorry about them.” You nodded your head slowly.

“I’m sorry for intruding, Somi didn’t tell me she was expecting people over, if I knew I wouldn’t have come,” you apologized to her father. You grabbed your things from the couch. “Bye, Somi. Thank you for lunch, Mr. and Mrs. Douma,” you nodded your head toward them and saw yourself out.

Then you were alone again. But you didn’t have time to worry, you didn’t have time to be afraid. Instead, your mind filled with a toxin you didn’t see coming, how could you?

“(Y/N)!” And she made it so much worse. “Let me walk you back!”

“No, it’s fine,” you said.

“You hate walking alone, let me walk you,” she says.

“Leave me alone,” you picked up the pace.

“Hold on, please!” She catches up with you easily, stopping in front of you. “What’s wrong?” She says between breaths. You scoffed and walked around her. The nerve. She knows what she did.

“Don’t worry about it, just talk with your parents,” you said back at her, but she didn’t stop there, she kept her pace with you.

“No, come on, I know you. I know my parents are a lot but I had to say what I said back there,” Somi defended while she stopped you in your tracks again.

“I know, and I understand that,” you said to her. “But that doesn’t mean that it still doesn’t hurt,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N)…” she reached out to you but you took a step back.

“Tonight… your plans are with that guy, huh?” You asked her. Somi stilled.

“I have to, my parents set us up.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved your hand and walked away from her again.

“(Y/N)! Come on, don’t be like that!”

“Don’t be like what, Somi?!” You whipped your head back. “Huh?!”

“Don’t—” She paused and took a deep breath. “You should understand where I’m coming from. It’s not like you’re out to your parents either!”

“Yeah, I know that, Somi, that’s why I said that I did understand. But it still fucking sucks and you can’t be upset at me for feeling bad for lying to your parents! They’re your parents for fucks sake!”

“Lying about what?” She asks you. She shakes her head. Your shoulders slumped.

“Ha,” you scoffed again. You were right. This was all one sided from the start. “Whatever.” You tried to ignore her.

“I don’t understand why this is such a big deal! You don’t even know what your sexuality is!” She shouts. Now you’re pissed. You marched back to her.

“Don’t you fucking dare assume you know me,” your voice was firm. “Don’t you dare say that when we’ve been seeing each other sexually for the past two months, Christ, Somi, we were just having sex a few hours ago and you think you can tell me I’m not sure of my sexuality? I’ve never been more sure. If anyone here has to check then it’s you. You say you’re a lesbian but all I hear from you are failed dates with men, what do you expect, Somi? What do you want me to say?” She’s silent, and you don’t know why. Does she really have nothing more to say for herself? She takes a deep breath. “Just go back home, Somi.”

“I’ll cancel tonight.”

“No, no, don’t do that,” you shook your head. “I already found another place to stay.” You were lying.

“No, (Y/N), come on,” she says.

“No, Somi. You said it yourself, you have to do this for your parents, and I get that. I’d do the same if my parents did that too,” you tried to calm yourself down. That’s how the both of you were, you had your arguments with your parents, but you still loved them, you couldn’t just break their hearts and Somi was the same. Countless times you’d heard her praise her parents, you’d heard the way she spoke of them so highly with so much tenderness in her voice, so you really truly understood where she was coming from. “I have to go now.”

“Are you really going to see someone else?” She asks.

“Yeah, I am,” you didn’t know why she was so pressed about that. She’s been seeing others too.

“Are you actually interested in him or did you say that because of my mom?”

“Why do you care so much?” She couldn’t answer. But you wanted her to, you wanted her to tell you not to see him so fucking bad. But she didn’t. There was a tense silence between you both, disturbed only by the cars driving past you. “You said it yourself, Somi, you didn’t lie about anything,” you said quietly, “I’m leaving now,” you cut the conversation. 

“If you leave, then it’s over between us,” Somi says suddenly.

“And what was between us, Somi?” You asked. She didn’t answer. So you left. And, this time, she didn’t try to stop you.

You were on autopilot after that, walking all the way to the Starbucks on campus without paying attention to much else, you were too angry to even worry about anything else. And you really thought your walk calmed you down, but it was just a small question that made you feel like sobbing.

“Hey, (Y/N)—” Jaemin stopped before he said anything more. “What happened?” He asked it so sweetly and, instead of answering him, you buried your face in your hands.

And that’s how your second heartbreak happened. You felt like shutting the world out, and so you did. The voices of people around you fell muted, the sound of passing cars too, and finally the sound of Jaemin packing his things in front of you. You heard him knock on the table in front of you and you slid your hands down your face just enough to see him.

“Wanna head out?” He asks. You nodded and followed him. The walk was silent, but you didn’t hate it. You followed him to his dorm, something you thought you’d never do, but here you were. You’re just not making any good decisions today, aren’t you? Your phone kept going off with texts from Somi, all of which you didn’t pay attention to, and you were left asking the same question you asked her to yourself. Why did you care so much?

“Sorry, Jaemin, I know you wanted to study,” you sighed. He unlocked the door and let you inside first.

“Don’t worry about it, (Y/N),” he closed it behind you both. “We all have our days.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to see mine,” you looked around. It came as no surprise that it was neat, it was more surprising that both sides of the dorm were clean, but it was so easy to guess which side was Jaemin’s, what with the various cameras and pictures taped to the wall. Huh, funny, when did you find out that Jaemin was into that? Probably around the same time you started posing for the pictures he thought he was taking when you all didn’t notice.

“You can sit anywhere, my roommate went home for the week,” he starts picking up loose items before stacking them on his roommate’s desk while you took a seat at his. Jaemin reaches over you and hands you a photo album.

“You’re… you’re not going to ask?” You felt like you were starting to cry now.

“I don’t know about you, but I always hated it when people make me talk about why I’m sad when it’s obvious, it always made me more frustrated,” he leans against his roommate’s desk while turned toward you. “Did you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“That’s what I figured,” he pulls his phone out and gestures for you to open the photo album. So you did. And it was probably one of the nicest things you’d ever seen. On the first page was the year with the caption ‘Freshman Year’ under it, and in the pages following were various pictures taken at various events. The first couple you could tell was orientation since they depicted a lot of the games and events you remembered from yours too. The next few were events you recognized, since you were there too, they were pictures of the study group back when it was just a study group, what with the pictures of you standing in front of a whiteboard with senseless equations on it and with other pictures of Keeho struggling flipping through his textbooks. Then there were pictures of when that study group became a friend group, pictures of the outings you went to, the impromptu food runs, and the late night roadtrips. And, slowly, you started to notice a trend where you became the subtle subject of the photos, moving from the sidelines to the forefront, and you didn’t hate it. You, who could barely look in the mirror, loved seeing these pictures of you, what are the odds?

“Hey, you’re really good,” you complimented him. “I don’t even remember you taking half of these.”

“That’s probably because I was trying to be subtle about it, I was going for candid photos but, I gotta ask, when did you start noticing?”

“Around that time we went to get ramen, you accidentally turned your flash on so I started paying more attention,” you said it with a teasing voice.

“Dammit, I really thought I played that one off too,” he laughs.

“Right, right, you said you accidentally turned your flashlight on, like I’d fall for that one,” you rolled your eyes, but maintained a small smile. No wonder you started becoming the subject, you thought. You’re the one who noticed he was taking these small pictures in the first place.

“I was going to show you all once the year ended, actually,” he notices you flipping through the empty pages. “Or probably when we all graduate, I think that would’ve been more nostalgic.”

“So why show me now?”

“Why not?”

“Good question,” you turned back to the last couple. You had a hunch, but you felt like it would be ridiculous to say it out loud. “But I asked you first,” you couldn’t deny that you were curious.

“Well… nothing lasts forever, right?” He asks. You look at him. “I know it’s bad to think like this, but sometimes I wonder if our group will stick together for our whole four years. Then Yeji does something outrageous that makes me realize ‘oh fuck I’m stuck with these people for four years’ and that anxiety leaves, but, then it comes back,” he’s never really talked this much with you before. Maybe it was because you were in a space he was comfortable in, or maybe it was because he was with you, you didn’t know. “I guess I showed it to you because…” he trails off and adjusts his position on the desk. You couldn’t ignore the twinge of pink on his face and at the tips of his ears. But you stayed silent, because you didn’t know what to say to what you thought he was going to say. He takes a deep breath. “I want us to…” he trails off again, as if picking the right words in his head right now. “I want to spend my four years with you, at the very least.” Why did you feel some relief when he said that? It wasn’t a confession, it was a wish.

“I think we will,” you said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know, I don’t plan on leaving you or the group, at least,” you crossed your legs on the chair. “Do you?”

“Nope, I enjoy spending time with you all, even if we don’t get any work done,” he chuckles.

“What counts is that we do get work done when we have to,” you place the photo album back where it came from and rubbed your eyes. “I still can’t believe we spent a whole semester together, and that we’re still hanging out now that a new one started,” you mumbled.

“I know, our schedules are a little different now.”

“Like they weren’t before,” you remembered the struggles of planning anything with all of you. “It feels like I’ve known you all for ages.”

“Right? You all already know too much about me,” he shakes his head.

“God, this is why drinking together is dangerous,” you laughed, remembering the time you all drank together in Keeho’s dorm, and how you all knocked out on his floor too. Jaemin looks at the clock off to the side.

“Hey, want me to walk you back to the drop off? You usually get picked up around this time, right?” He asks.

“Uh… no, it’s fine,” you shook your head. Right, you needed a place to stay tonight, and going home wasn’t an option since you didn’t have a ride. 

“You sure? I noticed you don’t like being alone,” he says. Would it be too much for you to ask if you could stay over? Were you close enough to ask that? You could chance Yeji, but you know that her nightmare roommate hates it when the other girls have people over and you didn’t want to make Yeji deal with that. There wasn’t anything wrong with staying with Keeho either, other than his creepy roommate which now that you thought about it was a very valid reason not to ask him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I, uh, I don’t have a ride home today,” you finally told him.

“Oh yeah? Who are you staying with tonight?”

“I’m figuring that out right now, the person I had in mind,” you hesitated, “the person I had in mind had other people over today.”

“I get it. You could stay over here if you can’t find anywhere else, like I said, my roommate left for the week,” Jaemin says.

“Are you sure? You won’t get in trouble?”

“Yeah, my RA really doesn’t care,” he says.

“Really? Can’t he get in trouble for that?” Jaemin leans over and opens the mini fridge next to him, the small thing filled to the brim with alcohol.

“Probably, but he’s the one who gave us these so,” Jaemin shrugs.

“Are those Trulys?” You spotted the seltzers just as he closed it.

“What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Strawberry.” He reaches into the fridge again and pulls out two cans and hands one to you. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” you both open your cans at the same time and you swallow a good majority of it down. “Ah, this is nice after ending midterms,” you felt yourself relaxing already. Jaemin nodded silently. “Wait, we are done, right?”

“Yup, our finals are in a week though, so there’s no rest for the wicked,” he says.

“Aw, hell,” you cried. You chugged the rest of the drink down and placed it next to you. “Can I have another one of those?” Jaemin hands you his, which still had a considerable amount, before grabbing another one from the fridge. “And… if you’re okay with it, could I ask a few questions?”

“Shoot.” You chugged more of the can in your hands before starting.

“I have this friend,” you started. You still weren’t sure if you should even ask him, you would be telling a secret that you’d kept from everyone since the year started, and for some reason you didn’t want to end the fantasy, but at the same time you knew that you shouldn’t keep it to yourself too. “She’s seeing someone right now, someone she really likes and that she thought liked her back, but then she said something really hurtful, after doing so many things that couples usually do, the girl she liked told her parents that they were just friends and nothing more. So, now she’s really upset about that. But she knows she shouldn’t be, she understands her, but she’s still really really upset,” you could feel your eyes tearing up again. This whole time, Jaemin listened very carefully. “So now my friend feels cheated, in a way. She knows she shouldn’t because from the get go she agreed to not expect anything more out of the relationship, but then it became something more and the girl she likes outright denied it in front of her, and then she expected for everything to be okay after when it obviously can’t. Is my friend wrong for feeling that way?” You felt bad for word vomiting him, but you just couldn’t stop talking. Your thoughts were a mile a minute and your mouth was struggling to catch up.

“No, I don’t think your friend is in the wrong,” he says. “I’d be upset too. If I was hanging out with someone a lot doing things that couples usually do, and then she told me that we were just friends, I think I’d be pretty mad, actually,” he says. “It never feels good to be led on.”

“Thank you, I thought I was going crazy.”

“I thought we were talking about your friend,” he said this in a light tone. You knew he wouldn’t have bought the friend excuse from the start.

“Yeah, well, I’m starting to feel tipsy so it’s not like I can keep up a lie anyway,” you finished your drink and put it to the side.

“You’re feeling tipsy on Trulys?”

“I also haven’t slept in the last 24 hours, so there’s that,” you admitted.

“That’ll do it,” he chuckles.

“Can I have another one?”

“Is that a good idea?”

“Probably not.”

“Okay then,” he hands you another can and you opened it quickly.

“So… who is she?”

“You wouldn’t know her,” you shook your head. “I barely know her.” You thought back to your conversation with her parents earlier, they were saying so many things about her that you didn’t expect to hear or expect her to be like at all, and suddenly you felt like you didn’t know her at all.

“I mean, yeah, but it still sucks to be in your position,” he says before drinking.

“Yeah, it really does…” you muttered.

“Drink slower, (Y/N).”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you kept your pace.

“Do you like her a lot?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think she likes me that way,” you shook your head. “I thought she did, but today kinda proved to me that she didn’t. How could she say such hurtful things and look like it didn’t bother her at all?” You looked at your phone and silenced her incoming call.

“Looks like she wants to talk about it.”

“I don’t,” you flipped your phone over. “God, Jaem, if I told you the things we were up to you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Knowing you, I probably would,” he tips his can to you and you tapped yours against it in a lonely toast, and you both drank more. “Try me.”

“We fucked, like, a lot.”

“I believe it.”

“Why?”

“(Y/N), you seriously don’t think we wonder why you run off right after class? Yeji joked that you were seeing someone but Keeho and I didn’t buy it. I figured you just needed some time off after spending too much time with us, but the more Yeji joked about it the more I realized it could be true,” he says.

“And true it was.”

“So all of that led you to think she liked you too?”

“Well, we started out as cuddle buddies.”

“That’ll do it,” he repeats and drinks more.

“Then we became friends with benefits, I kinda sorta confessed to her and I thought she accepted it.”

“You can’t kinda sorta confess to someone, (Y/N), you have to be clear about your intentions,” he says.

“I was clear!”

“Were you?” You thought back.

“Maybe I wasn’t super clear… I just started saying things that we did together and then we fucked so I just assumed…”

“Christ…” he shakes his head.

“I wouldn’t know how to confess anyway, I thought I was being obvious,” your face was starting to heat up from both the embarrassment and the alcohol.

“How did you confess anyway?”

“She said that she thought no one could ever love her. So, I wanted to prove her wrong, and I just started saying things we did together and how it was impossible for anyone not to fall in love with that because I fell in love with that, and, like…”

“You fucked?”

“We fucked!” You shouted and Jaemin laughed. “It was my first time too, and I told her that. I told her I trusted her because I thought she liked me back and… oh god, Jaemin you have to promise not to tell anyone about this. What I confess to you here stays in here.”

“Yeah, my lips are sealed,” he says.

“Clear, clear, it’s hard to be clear about that stuff,” you say. “How am I supposed to say it? ‘I love you’?”

“Just like that, yeah.”

“I couldn’t do it like that.”

“Sure you could, you just did.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not here, is she? Do you know how hard it is to confess face to face someone you want to date?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I could try though,” he shrugs.

“Unfortunate woman,” you laughed. He chugs the rest of his drink down, put it aside, and walked toward you, resting his hands on either side of you now. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Huh, you’re right, it is pretty hard,” he was very close to you now. His face was reddening more now, his eyes half lidded in a mix of tiredness and drunkness, and you wondered how you looked to him right now.

“Unfortunate man.”

“I know,” he pushes off of the desk, but you hold onto his wrist.

“Jaem…” you hesitated. It was so selfish of you to ask him this. “Do you want to hook up?” He raises an eyebrow now.

“I think we’re both too drunk to make a good decision.”

“Shouldn’t that cancel things out?”

“I told you I don’t like being led on.”

“What if I’m not leading you on though?”

“Aren’t you?” You were silent at this.

“No.”

“You just told me five minutes ago about a woman you really like.”

“And she doesn’t like me back.”

“So you go to me instead.”

“… Yeah.”

“Sure, let’s do it.”

“You sure?”

“Either I’m being led on and you just want to confirm something, or I have a real chance here,” he says. “Which is it?”

“Would it be weird if I said both?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Well…” you thought for a moment, and a horrible thought struck you. If you had a boyfriend, then you’d never have to come out to your parents, you’d never have to experience that heart break and you’d never have to put them through that heart break. “I’d say you have a real chance.” 

“(Y/N), I really like you,” he confesses. “I’m serious, I do, I want to be something with you,” he continues. “So, please, don’t lead me on.”

“I won’t,” you said this, but there was still that lingering doubt at the back of your head. “I won’t lead you on.” And without another word he pressed forward, lips locking with yours, and you reciprocated. You could taste the hints of watermelon on him and even more so when you deepened it. Your hands squeezed his wrists now, and his hands interlocked with yours. You know you shouldn’t compare, but this feeling was just different from whenever you and Somi made out. You’d never pictured a future with him, but the more you thought about it the clearer it became, but that future was so different than the one you wanted with Somi. This one… this one was more realistic, you think.

But it felt like you were going through the motions. Taking your clothes off, taking his off, and somehow making it to his bed, even rolling the condom on was something you were surprisingly good with considering you’d only had sex with Somi before this. Sex with Jaemin wasn’t what you’d expected at all, and part of you felt bad that you were just using him to prove a point to yourself. And maybe it was a bad idea to do this when you were both drunk, then again you always preached that drunk actions were sober thoughts. Speaking of, you wondered if he could read them now. It felt like he was staring into your very mind while your mouth sank down on his cock. It was such a different feel than with Somi, despite the obvious, and now you wondered which you really preferred. Did you like the sweet and tender touches that Somi dragged out or did you prefer the way Jaemin went down on you with firm and sharp grasps? Did you prefer the soft kisses from her or the rough ones from him? Maybe you liked the stimulation from how your pussy slid over hers versus how Jaemin pounded into yours.

Or maybe you just didn’t give a fuck.

Jaemin pressed his lips against yours again, holding your jaw in such a way that your lips parted enough for him to deepen the kiss and you let him do so, you even encouraged it as you pressed against him and let a subdued moan out while he worked his cock into you, stretching your walls in a way you’d never experienced before. Your head tilted back, feeling an intense pleasure that was so different from the one you’d known from before. You felt his bed rocking beneath you, and you really hoped that no one could hear it.

“Oh fuck, oh god,” your moans were breathy and you could hear his silenced whimpers and loud groans.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he said quietly. You swallowed harshly. What did he mean by that? You didn’t want to know, and instead you pulled him down onto your lips again, something he reciprocated quickly while quickening his pace. You felt yourself building to your orgasm, and your fingers naturally settled over your clit while you chased after it.

“Keep going like that,” you said into his ear. “Ah, oh hell, I’m almost there,” you grinded against his waist and he kept his pace, pounding into you as if to prove a point and, though it scared you to admit it, you didn’t hate it.

Truly bisexual, you didn’t know if you should be proud or afraid of that fact. Your fingernails dug into Jaemin’s back, no doubt leaving some kind of mark behind when you released him shortly during your moments of bliss. Then, right as you reached your orgasm, you felt him start to speed up, no doubt looking for his own release and, finally, he stilled in your pussy, the condom filling up with cum before he pulled out of you. He leans over you now, both hands on either side of your head and face inches away from yours.

Now this isn’t fair, how could he still look handsome after all that? You’re half sure you look like an exhausted rat under him. And when he pushed the hair out of his face you swear you felt your heart jump out but then realization hit.

You felt a pang of guilt, having asked to hook up with Jaemin. You knew that Somi didn’t take your relationship seriously, she was still seeing people on the side other than you, hell, the two of you weren’t even properly dating, so what was so wrong about this? What’s so wrong about getting dicked down by one of your friends in his dorm after having a fight with her?

Many things, actually. You didn’t really think of any repercussions, you were just angry, and very drunk. You felt played, almost, like Somi had taken your heart out and tossed it around before giving it back. And your intentions weren’t exactly clear either. Sure, you’d had some attraction toward him, jokingly calling him the ‘Cute Boy in all our classes’ to Yeji and her teasing you relentlessly when he joined the study group, but your vision was clouded with the rose colored sunglasses that Somi had put on you. And now that you took those off, you didn’t know anymore.

Again, he kissed you, and again you kissed back. You didn’t know what your intentions were, but you did know one thing.

In your life, it was easier to love him than it was to love her.

~

It was a long time before you saw her again, Somi. After that night with Jaemin, after waking up in his arms and feeling like something was right with him, you started to be together more. There wasn’t exactly a title on this relationship though, both of you had agreed to get to know each other better romantically first before pursuing it altogether, but this time there was a clear end goal, you both liked each other and you both hoped for something more and, this time, that sentiment existed outside of the confined space of his dorm. You even told your parents about him, they’ve even met him and they thought he was a nice young man, and right after that you screwed in his car.

Everything you had hoped to do with Somi, you did with him, and somehow they felt so much better. You thought you were fully moving on from her, that you had something good going on with Jaemin.

But tonight, with his arms wrapped around you while you watched some A24 film on his laptop, you got a text from her, something she hadn’t done in two months now.

‘Come over, please.’ You stared at the text, and so did Jaemin. You turned your phone over and his head falls on your shoulder.

“You should go over there,” he says. You twist to look at him, surprised at his comment. After that first night with him neither of you brought her up.

“Why?”

“I think you deserve that closure, and so does she,” he says.

“I don’t know, if I should, Jaem, what if I…” you didn’t finish your sentence. It would break his heart.

“What if you fall for her again?” He took the words right out of your mouth.

“I don’t think that will happen,” you shook your head.

“I’m pretty sure she fell for you, I think she fell hard. But I don’t think she realized it until after you left,” he says. “A lot of people don’t think about that. They don’t realize what they lost until it’s gone, you know?”

“Right, yeah,” you nodded. You didn’t really mourn what you’d lost with her, now that you thought about it. And the way it ended so abruptly, maybe that’s why.

Plus, you were afraid of the way your heart ached when you saw that text. A part of you must have still loved her, and Jaemin must have seen that.

“Are you sure?” You asked him.

“Why are you asking for my permission? She’s your first love.”

“I know but…” you shook your head.

“Go ahead, and call me if you need me to come get you,” he lets you go and you slid off his bed. “Go, (Y/N), go talk to her.”

“Do you think I’m ready?”

“Are we ever?” He closes his laptop.

“You’re not going to ask to walk with me?”

“I figured you’d want to do this alone.” It was cruel that he knew you so well and you barely knew him at all. He had always paid attention to you, and you were too busy looking at her to realize that.

“Thanks, Jaemin.”

“Yeah, of course, go ahead,” he watches you go.

You remembered the way so clearly, how to get to her apartment and which routes were the fastest. But standing at her door, you didn’t know what to expect. You always had this vague idea but now you weren’t so sure. It’d been a good amount of time, a lot can happen in two months, and here you were. You knocked on her door, and she opened it.

“Hi, you’re just in time,” she pulls you in and seats you on the couch. “I gotcha something,” she disappears into her room and comes back out with a present.

“Oh, uh… thanks, Somi,” you took it in her hands. “What’s the occasion?”

“Six months, right?” She tucks her hair behind her ears and you paused. So she was keeping count.

“Of what?” You asked her.

“Our relationship, right?” She says with a tightlipped smile. You pushed the present back into her hands.

“Don’t do this, Somi.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You know what,” you said.

“What? We took a break.”

“From what?” You asked her. You just wanted her to do one thing. You wanted her to tell you that you had something together, you wanted her to acknowledge that you loved her and she lead you on. How hard was it for her to say that you were in a relationship? No, no, you take it back. You don’t want her to just do that, you want her to apologize for what she said two months ago. That shit was horrible, all of it. But why did you feel yourself caving into her again? Why did you feel your heart beating toward her again? You were nothing more than a friend to her, she made that very clear, but here you were with that small hope of salvaging what was lost.

Really, would it kill her to just say those two words? I’m sorry. That’s all you ever wanted to hear from her, at least once. All those texts you got from her all asking you to come over and all of them you ignored, but you never had the heart to block her. You wanted to hear her acknowledge that what she did was wrong, you wanted her to know that what she did was so horrible to you, and you wanted her to know that what she did was fucked up. But, at the same time, you would be beside yourself to see her so upset, you hated to see the way she got too in her head about it and you couldn’t do anything to help her besides sitting next to her and lending a comforting ear.

But this?

You needed an apology for this.

No, you needed so much more than just an apology for this.

You sat in front of her dumbfounded. No words were exchanged between you and her, just intense silence. What she had just told you… it broke you. How could she even think that what she said back then was remotely alright?

“I don’t know why you’re so angry.”

“Are you serious? You don’t know why I’m mad?” You asked her. Somi nodded her head.

“I don’t…” her voice was so quiet.

“Somi I’m going to ask you this one more time… what are we?” You kept your gaze steady. “What am I to you, Somi?” She broke her already weakened eye contact with you and stared at her hands, before finally burying her face in them. “Somi, I need to hear it from you. What are we?” You repeated your question and her hands reached out to hold your face ever so softly, the same way she always did when she wanted you to listen to her.

“I love you, (Y/N), I love you,” she said instead, but you shook your head.

“No, I don’t think you do,” you reached up to pull her hands away from you, but she instead wraps her arms around you.

“I do, I do, I love you,” she held onto you like if she’d let go you’d leave forever. And after everything, maybe you would.

“Somi, let go,” you couldn’t hold her back. You couldn’t find it in you to.

“I can’t, I won’t,” she says.

“Let your best friend go,” you said with a more stern voice, and that stopped her movements. She released you slowly, keeping at least some contact with you. “I don’t get you, Somi. You said that there was nothing between us but here you are! The first time you tell me you loved me was right now after you ended things. God, I feel like I was never really important to you until after I left. I don’t think you ever took what we had seriously, and when you told me you did I don’t think you meant it. I love you, Somi. But I don’t think our definitions of love are the same,” you shook your head.

“I do love you,” she repeats.

“And you couldn’t have told me that two months ago?”

“No, I didn’t know then!”

“But you knew I loved you. You knew I did and still you said those things.”

“I take them back, all of them!”

“You can’t just do that, Somi!” You raised your voice. “You can’t just pretend that everything’s okay, it’s not! Answer my question, what were we?” You pressed her more and she shook her head.

“I don’t know what we were.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t! When I met you I just wanted something casual, but when I got to know you I wanted something more and I was afraid of that! I was afraid of loving you,” she says. “You know how my family is, what my culture is, it wouldn’t have been easy.”

“So you took the easy way out.”

“I… yeah. I did.”

“I can’t even blame you, I did the same thing,” you said quietly. “But… we could’ve worked something out. I really thought we could’ve. I was so ready to come out to my parents for you, but you weren’t. Somi, our whatever never left these walls. Whenever I saw you on campus you pretended that you didn’t see me, whenever I asked to go out with you you’d say you were busy, our whatever wasn’t good for either of us,” you shook your head. “I don’t blame you for taking the easy way, Somi, I just blame you for fucking with my feelings.”

“(Y/N)…” she reaches for you again, but you move away from her. You couldn’t look at her, either, because Jaemin was right, you were so sure that you’d fall for her again. She slides the present to you again and you clenched your jaw. “(Y/N), I’m sorry.” Fucking finally. Tears started to fall down your face, they landed on the wrapping paper beneath you and smudged the ink on the tag.

“You couldn’t have said that before?”

“I didn’t know how to.”

“And you expect us to be okay?”

“I do.”

“Then lower your expectations,” you said to her.

“No, (Y/N), let’s work this out.”

“Have you come out to your parents?”

“Have you?”

“I take that as a no,” you wiped the tears off your face quickly.

“It’s not that easy, (Y/N)! At least you’re still attracted to men! You coming out wouldn’t be as bad as me!” She shouts and you swallowed your gasp.

“Excuse me?!” You stood up, the present dropping onto the couch.

“No, no, I… I didn’t mean it like that!” She stands up too, grabbing your hands and holding them between you and her. You shook your head and took a deep breath.

“What did you want from me today?” You asked quietly.

“I… I wanted to be with you,” she said in a similar tone. “I wanted to tell you that I wanted to be with you, I want to take it a step further.”

“No, I can’t do that with you,” you shook your head.

“Why not?”

“God, Somi, have you not been listening to our conversation?” You exasperated. “Somi… we can’t be together, not right now, not ever,” you told her. “Somi what we had… it’s not healthy. We only saw each other in here, we only saw each other when we needed to see each other, and we never saw each other just because we wanted to. Somi that’s not a relationship, that’s toxic!”

“We can make it healthy!”

“No, we can’t! Listen to yourself! You’re just invalidating everything I’m telling you,” you pulled your hands from her grasp.

“(Y/N), please, I want to make this right!” She says.

“You already did, you apologized for it already, there’s nothing more that we need to do.”

“(Y/N), please,” she insists. “I’m moving back home, I’m going back to South Korea.”

“And? You want me to be in a relationship with you for however much time before you leave? That’s so fucked up,” you shook your head. “I shouldn’t have come today.”

“No, no, I’m so happy you came, (Y/N)!” She says. “Please don’t go.”

“I should leave, Somi, I really should,” you told her.

“I know, I know, I fucked up! I just wanted to spend one more night with you, (Y/N),” she says.

“No, that’s not a good idea, Somi.”

“Please—”

“Don’t you see that this is hard for me too? Somi I loved you so much that I sacrificed nearly as much just to see you! I lied to so many people because I wanted to be with you, but then you told me that that was nothing? And now you want something, I… I can’t,” you wiped your tears again. Somi takes a step back.

“You moved on quickly.”

“You said it yourself, there was nothing to move on from.”

“But there was.”

“And you didn’t know it until I left.”

“Yeah, I didn’t,” she says. She picks up the gift again and hands it to you. “At least take this.”

“Why?”

“Call it a goodbye gift.”

“Fine then.”

“(Y/N), you are my first love.”

“And so are you.” She was the first one you were actually serious about, the first one you wanted to work out, and the first one you thought you really loved.

“I want this to work out, but…” she takes a deep breath, “but you’re right. It’s bad for both of us.”

“Yeah,” you played with the ribbon on the gift. “When do you fly out?”

“Next week.”

“Have a safe flight,” you told her.

“Thank you,” she says. You stood up again, and this time she just followed you.

“I’ll head out now,” you looked at her with your hand on the doorknob.

“Wait…” she says. “You didn’t get me anything…” you sighed.

“What do you want, then?”

“Can… can I kiss you one more time?” She asks. You hesitated.

“Okay,” you turned to her fully and she wrapped her hands around your face before pressing her lips softly to yours. You had almost forgotten what they felt like, how soft they were and how they moved against yours, and if you didn’t come tonight maybe you would have entirely. You let her take her time, this was more for her than it was for you. And when she finally pulled away from you that’s when you felt your sadness catch up with you.

You did want something more with her. But you knew it wouldn’t work out. There would be thousands of miles between you both in a week and there was no feasible way for you both to be together, not with all that baggage from before.

“Goodbye, Somi,” you opened the door.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

And that’s how you said goodbye to your first love, the real one. Not some silly crush, not someone you knew you didn’t have a chance with, but someone who really impacted you, someone who changed you for the better. You finally mourned what you lost with her. And when you returned to Jaemin’s dorm, you moved back into his arms, and you held him close to you and he to him.

“She got you a gift?”

“She’s moving to Korea.”

“A goodbye gift, then.”

“Yeah,” you reached for it now, holding the gift in your hand. The tag just said her name and yours and nothing more. “Should I open it?”

“Gifts were meant to be open.” You pulled on the ribbon and tore the wrapping paper carefully, and inside was a small wooden box with Korean lettering across the top.

“What does it say?” You held it so that he could read it.

“Hamoni Moggong,” he recites. “I’m pretty sure it’s the company name, Harmony Carpentry,” he says.

“Huh,” you slid the top off and you pulled out the music box concealed within. When you opened it, a familiar tune played with a flower slowly spinning in the middle atop a small mirror. Inside of it was a slip of paper. You held it up, the whole thing was written in hangul, and you handed it to Jaemin. He read through it carefully before turning it around in his hands.

“Love from afar, these music boxes come in pairs, one for me and one for you,” he translates. And again you found yourself crying, and Jaemin couldn’t do anything more but to hold you close to him.

~

Then the years went by. And before you knew it, you had graduated with the same four people you’d started with. You and Jaemin were still together, now entering your third year of officially dating, while Yeji and Keeho constantly teased you both about it. But every now and then you caught yourself thinking of Somi, the first person to have made you feel loved and the first person you thought you’d be with forever, and it made you sadder.

A week after you saw her, you’d noticed she’d removed you on Tinder. You couldn’t see her instagram anymore, and you were blocked on her snapchat. And you didn’t know why, there was no way you could’ve reached out to her either, it was like she’d cut all contact, and that hurt you. She was the one who wanted to make things right but then she did that? And, to make matters worse, the summer of your senior year you got into yet another huge argument with your parents, one that near left you disowned, and when you’d run away from home, you knew that as soon as you’d come back, you were finished. You knew your parents too well, you knew what their discipline was like and, so, when you’d finally returned home, you deleted all traces of Somi from your photos, all your texts and all your memories, they were gone. And true to your predictions, your parents took all your devices away and reduced you to the child they saw you as.

And when you got your things back, when you’d all apologized to each other, you cried. Everything you had of Somi, of the girl you owed so much to, was gone, because you’d rather be completely disowned for deleting things from your phone than disowned for loving another woman. Even that beautiful music box she gave you, to your parents and everyone else, it was a gift from Jaemin. But to you and Jaemin it was proof of what you had before.

You never did come out to your parents. Being with Jaemin, loving him and him loving you, provided enough cover and a large enough shield for you to avoid it. And so your story with Somi ended that way. With a small music box collecting dust in your closet.

“Oh we gotta go on Space Mountain,” Keeho points at the map and Yeji checks her phone.

“The wait is three hours!” She shouts.

“Okay and? Genie pass,” he says.

“Oh, right… it’s redeemable for nine at night,” she says.

“What?!” Keeho looks at his phone too. The four of you had agreed to have a graduation trip to Disneyland of all the places, after Yeji had told you all that she’d never gone, it was a must.

“Ooh, we should do Small World too, we gotta hit the main attractions for Yeji,” you said.

“Got it, got it,” Keeho writes it down on his phone.

“You are surprisingly very good at planning things,” Jaemin teases.

“Hey! I’m an older brother, I have to be good at these things,” he says.

“(Y/N)?!” You swear you could hear your voice being called somewhere, and you stopped in your tracks, your friends looking confusingly behind you.

“Did you say my name, Jaem?” He was the only person behind you.

“No,” he shakes his head. “What’s up?” Jaemin asks.

“Did any of you guys call me?” You looked around.

“No, we’re just trying to get to the ferris wheel,” Keeho points at the large attraction.

“Well, no shit, but… hmm…” you looked back one last time and you felt your heart stop. The passerbys around you seemed to slow into blurs as you made eye contact with her and, again, you saw your name form on her lips, then you realized you were walking towards her with the voices of your friends drowning into the muted chatter of the crowd, then you realized she was walking towards you too, and now you’re both running.

“Somi?!” You called her name out just in case and you saw her nod, you saw her press her lips in a tight line and you saw her smile despite the sadness in her eyes and, just as you noticed the ringing in your ears, you both melted into each other’s embrace, and you felt that beautiful and wonderful feeling of being loved yet again. But at this moment, though you still held her tight, you realized something. If there was one thing you’d learned from university despite the obvious, it was that, for the better, nothing lasts forever.

And that’s okay.

~

Epilogue

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep in,” you rushed into the kitchen with your things practically spilling from your arms and your glasses refusing to stay on your face, you looked like a complete mess, you knew that, but when you looked up to greet her she instead cupped your face and pulled you into a gentle kiss. Your shoulders relaxed, backpack and all else clattering on the floor forgotten and hands instead brushing the hair from her face. The kiss was sweet and full of a yearning you couldn’t quite describe, it was as if it were something you had missed for a whole lifetime or something that you had only expected to experience in dreams. She’s perfect in every meaning of the word and at the same time she is imperfect in everything else.

But you love her. You love her so much.

When you separate you are filled with this strange desire that left you chasing after her. It was like your hearts were magnets, opposite charges that pull each other together, and that it did. Your arms were locked around her torso, your bodies fitted so perfectly against each other that it would have been criminal to separate you two. And, just like that, you felt like you were where you belonged.

“(Y/N),” her voice was so soft. It grew and blossomed in your chest and you could feel your smile widen. “(Y/N),” she repeats your name again and you looked up at her. There, her eyes, you could look at them forever and you could see your entire life with her.

A life where you would be with the one you loved and the one who loved you back. You could see the sleepy mornings that followed the passionate nights, you could see the way she would hold you so tenderly, the way she would frame your face in her hands and the way you’d do the same. You could feel her love radiating from her smile alone.

“Ennik…" her name was like a sacred thing to you. Her name was meant to represent strength, you learned that recently, yet to you it was the most gentlest word in your dictionary. A name so strong belonged to a woman so tender that it held a knew meaning. Then, as a sweet smile rose on her face, her nose brushed yours so slightly before she rose enough to kiss the tip. “I love you,” your words were lighter than the sun that surrounded you.

Somi beamed slightly, the closed-lip smile perfectly setting on her features.

Then, as if shaken into reality, a booming voice behind you.

“Somi!” The voice was so cold. You both turned and, like that, the fantasy had ended.

Somi pushed away from you and took a step back. The look in her eyes was one of solitary melancholy. She gave you one last hug and you held her tightly, as if you knew this was as much closure as you’d ever receive.

“I love you,” her voice broke you.

“I forgive you.” And yours broke her.

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[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!

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[a/n]: merry early christy mass

.

.

.

“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed. 

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted. 

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.

And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction. 

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him. 

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”

A stunned second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother. 

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs. 

“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.” 

Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?” 

And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?” 

He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.

Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.

“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”

Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.

“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”

Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”

“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”

“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.

“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno bites. 

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”

Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.

He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt. 

But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.

It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.

Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks. 

It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.

It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”

You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”

And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.

Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.

When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.

“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.

“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”

“An accessory to your what?”

“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”

Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.

Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.

Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.

“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”

Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now. 

It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right. 

He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.

This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand. 

7:06. He frowns. 

“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.

Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”

“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”

“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”

“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”

Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”

“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”

Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”

He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror. 

“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”

“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”

Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”

“What?”

“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”

“Where the hell did you get them?”

A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.” 

The Mark in question only hums proudly. 

“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”

“By BTS?”

Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”

“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.

Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.

Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that. 

So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.

A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.

“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”

“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts. 

The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge. 

“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”

“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.

Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”

Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand? 

The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.

Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’  But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’

Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.

We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t. 

He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago. 

But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.

Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views. 

Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.

You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to. 

That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.

It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place. 

Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling. 

It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.

Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.

“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax. 

“You’re late, Rockstar,”  Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”

“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”

“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”

There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly. 

“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?” 

You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.

“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.

“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”

It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush. 

Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.

Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.

Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night. 

Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.

But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home. 

He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.

He is entirely ready to call it a night…  but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal. 

He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.

He asks him to park. 

Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”

“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”

“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”

“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”

And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that. 

He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing. 

Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”

“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my mind?” 

And only then does he put two and two together.

“Is this... is this an intervention?”

“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”

“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”

“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”

It’s like being suckerpunched. 

“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”

Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid. 

He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”

“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.” 

“Because I screwed up, man.”

“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”

Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—

“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”

And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.

“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”

Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?

Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.

“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”

“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?”

“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”

And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”

“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”

“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.

“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.” 

Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”

“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”

“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head. 

“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”

“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”

Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”

“What?”

“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”

Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“

“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”

“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”

“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”

He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.

“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”

“Then you read him wrong.”

Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”

“‘Cause he—”  And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”

Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers. 

Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice. 

In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it. 

You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.

Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.

There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.

He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped. 

This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new. 

And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.

“He gave you… permission?”

“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”

He swallows. “When?” 

“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”

“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”

“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Why?”

He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”

“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”

“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”

“Yes?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”

“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”

“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.

Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.

“But this time I think I really messed up.”

The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.

This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing. 

You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.

Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five. 

Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.

She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.

Jeno only sighed.

All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.

And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place. 

“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”

A beat. 

“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”

It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.

If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.

“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”

“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.

“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”

And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing. 

Maybe ignorance is bliss. 

“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”

Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”

And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL

[MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

#lee jeno #nct dream #nct jeno #lee jeno fic #nct dream one shot #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #jeno x you #jeno x y/n #jeno drabbles #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno oneshot #jeno fanfic #nct dream fic #nct dream jeno #nct x reader #nct fic #nct imagines #jeno au #misdial masterlist

[wontheworld]

Jungwon and fem idol fic, where they’re both leaders and both are ambassadors for Prada and try their best to avoid each other but they can’t (idk 😭😭) can i be [🕷] anon?? TYY!!

Prada event

Paring: fem idol! y/n x idol !Jungwon

Genre: fluff

Summary: Y/n and Jungwon are both idols that are secretly dating, They have a Prada event with each other

Warnings: cursing, and kissing

Notes: not proofread! You can see I love the idol! Reader fics idkw (yea u can be 🕷 anon (

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊

Among the sea of glamorous celebrities and fashion enthusiasts, two shining stars stood out from the crowd - Jungwon and Yn.

Jungwon the leader of Enhypen and Yn the leader of Melodies, both under hybe entertainment; Also both being one of the youngest leaders as Yn was the maknae of her group and Jungwon was the 2nd to last youngest of his group.

They kept it pretty low-key with their dating, but some fans had already shipped them of course since Yn had wore some of his clothes for her airport fashion, and Jungwon wearing some of her rings on his fingers.

Jungwon and Yn found themselves on opposite ends of the room, stealing glances at each other whenever they could, but quickly looking away not knowing if they had a camera on them.

Jeon Somi, one of the Prada ambassadors was talking about a product to the camera while sitting next to Yn.

“Could you put these on?” Somi asked Yn as she nodded and out the sunglasses on as Somi explained it

Jungwon smiled at his girlfriend on the big screen trying on some of the stuff that Somi was talking about.

“Yo you’re going to have Twitter birds after you if you keep smiling at Yn” Niki said elbowing his side

Jungwon stoped smiling and looked at Niki, “So? I won’t get in trouble? Hybe already knows they’re just paying dispatch not to kiss and tell” Jungwon shrugged

Niki shook his head, “doesn’t mean hybe is paying other kpop news websites! Allkpop, Koreaboo, Soompi, Sojang i promise all of them will be on your ass by the end of this night” Niki spoke and Jungwon pouted.

“She’s so cute though look at her”

“You make me want to throw up” Niki said fake gagging before paying attention again.

————

After the event they had went to a after party.

Yn was there with the rest of her six members as Jungwon was too.

They bowed to each other before going on opposite ends of the party like they did at the event.

“You think I can shift little by little over to Jungwon?” Yn questioned her bandmate

Her bandmate Seoyun smiled at her, “Sure Yn! Go” Seoyun said pushing her as Yn smiled

She went over to where the snacks were which was also were Enhypen was.

“Oh hello” she said bowing as the seven boys bowed back.

She went next to them where the snacks were as Jungwon came and stood next to her.

“Hey ynnie” Jungwon said as their backs were turned away from everyone

She smiled, “Hi Jungwon how are you?” She questioned

He looked down at her before pouting, “Would be better if I could just kiss and hug my pretty girl” he said as she shook her head and started laughing.

“You know I would love that too if we were in private” she sighed as he nodded.

“I don’t think there’s any cameras in the back room where the bathroom is” Jungwon said as she hummed

“I’ll go back there and wait five minutes and go back there with me” she said and he nodded as she walked off with two snacks in her hand giving it to one of her members before leaving in the back.

She waiting on the wall for a couple minutes before he came back there and smiled before hugging her.

“Ugh I missed you I haven’t seen you for like a week because of schedule” he said whining while hugging her as she laughed

She pulled back from him before pecking hip lips, “I’ve missed you so much you don’t know how bad I wanted to jump up with my group and sit by you” she said wrapping her arms around his neck

“You were so cute trying those different things on I couldn’t help but smile at you” he said while holding her waist.

She smiled before closing their distance and kissing him as he smiled and kissed

her back.

she pulled away after a couple seconds, he still had his eyes closed before opening then a smiling warmly.

“Can you come by our dorm tonight? I’m sure the members won’t mind because Seoyun is having Jaehyun over, and Haneul is having Jiwoong over so you should come” She said as they rocked back and forth with each other.

“Of course I’ll be over” he said kissing her forehead as she smiled

“See you later, don’t want to be suspicious right?” She said laughing as he nodded before giving her one last kiss

“I love you yn” he said

“I love you more than you could imagine wonnie” she said before leaving

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

©️wontheworld

Song for today:

#[🕷] anon #enhypen dribbles #enhypen imagines #spotify #kpop fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #enhypen #kpop imagines #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon #enhypen niki #niki imagines #jungwon fluff #jungwon #jungwon fanfic #jungwon imagines #jungwon enhypen

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH 4 TEASER] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, eventual smut, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this teaser; none

teaser wc: 2k / comment on this post for taglist!

taglist:@hibernatinghamster@jenoxygen@eaglesnotravens@donutswithjaminthemiddle@jvjsssnaa@huangrenhyucks@luvenshiti@shiningdery@jaeminsbebu@aliceinwhateverland@bebsky@gem-gem@jkjkseo@jenosbliss@pewpewpwe00@ti–red@philanarose@softbbyg0rl@aaasteroidsky@carelessshootanonymous@en-boyz@jlsavyy@roseymerrie@bangchanisemo@skuezk@jaehyuns-adorable-dimples@ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread@jvjsssnaa@episkeyjeno@bockhyun@jenojammin@zarastrawberry@peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee@ooojisoo@luv4jeno @jydivrs @pinkysinnerbaby @jenojenoyes @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09

[a/n] jeno lovers this is for you... thank you all for sticking around through these random long ass hiatus(es?), i promise the full chapter is being worked on and coming soon. here is a longer teaser for your trouble. i love u.

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“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin thankfully asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere.

Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later in Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, lost and squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed. 

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because… you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted. 

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Y/N’s truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d seen you in nearly four months. He’d shown up at Mark’s place with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room that he used to spend every afternoon screwing around in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and Mark to come down. And— And, he’s not proud of this, but— Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, when you finally found his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d kind-of been expecting a bigger reaction. 

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in highschool you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him. 

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin replies belatedly. The tense beat of silence that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno almost instantly preferred that to actually hearing… this. Whatever this is about to be. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin mutters sharply, starting to sound a little agitated. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you please not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right?”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut a little short. He’s reached the end of his rope.

“Donghyuck, is Y/N a human being to you?”

A very, very stagnant second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will or power of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole bullshit conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. 

Mark’s little sister. That’s what Donghyuck had been mindlessly referring to her as. The realization hits Jeno like a punch— his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt; guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother. 

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you. 

“Jae... that’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently scolded. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin replies quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs.

“If you want to know so bad, freak— she found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time. Sometime while you guys were off gathering wood for the campfire.” 

For a moment Jeno genuinely doesn’t know what he’s talking about. A millisecond later Donghyuck perks up from the backseat though, and that’s never a good thing.

“At… At the lake house?” he says tentatively.

“At the lake house,” Jaemin nods. 

Shit, Jeno thinks. Fuck. 

“Y/N found out that she and I broke up, I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, and we basically had compliment-time to make each other feel better. The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. 

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno grunts. 

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort. 

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Firstly, don’t be crass, before I actually pinch you where it hurts. And secondly, not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“If anyone asks me anything about the lake house in the next few days that’s only what's first to come,” Jaemin replies darkly. “I’m serious. You can laugh about it all you want but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out, and I’m not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating.”

Donghyuck mutters to himself, still rubbing at the spot where Jaemin sniped him. He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. (Or so Jeno hopes, because the younger him could have surely used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt.)

Jeno is probably listening even harder than Jaemin when Donghyuck simply whistles and says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicked his turn signal on and coasted into the lane that would take them right back to SNU.

[thanks for reading! full chapter coming sooooon ♡]

#lee jeno #nct dream #nct jeno #lee jeno fic #nct dream one shot #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #jeno × you #jeno x Yin #jeno drabbles #ieno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno oneshot #jeno fanfic #nct dream fic #nct dream ieno #nct × reader #nct fic #nct imagines #jeno au #misdial masterlist

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH3] LIKE A MORNING CALL

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, eventual smut, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; alcohol mentions

chapter wc: 11.4k (i'm sorry ;-P)/ comment on this post for taglist!

taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky@gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavyy @roseymerrie @bangchanisemo @skuezk @jaehyuns-adorable-dimples @ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread @jvjsssnaa @episkeyjeno @bockhyun @jenojammin @zarastrawberry @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno

unable to tag: @nohunlee @ooojisoo @luv4jeno @not-clemb @jydivrs @pinkysinnerbaby @jenojenoyes

[a/n]: i dont even have an explanation for why this took so long besides the fact that work is kicking my ass rn LOL, but i'm so excited about this fic that ive been glued to my laptop every hour that i'm free. enjoy, chapter three, my friends

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THE APARTMENTS HOUSED INSIDE OF THE PALISADES TOWER ARE MYTHICAL FOR GOOD REASON, because the penthouse in which Jeon Somi lives is easily something out of a melodrama. Cleancut modern black and gray, polished gold metals, and endlessly high ceilings with windows so large that it was easy to forget there was even glass there at all (which, when you’re so high up, is a pretty freaky feeling). 

If this wasn’t your hundredth time being here you’d probably be just as awed as the guys behind you are. Their eyes are wide as they shuffle out of their shoes in the entranceway, faces slack at the absolutely bonkers state of her home— but as it stands, you don’t even bat an eye. You just fling your sneakers in the front closet and slap the living room light switch on, the weight of this disastrous day settling on your shoulders all at once.

“I’m going to go and wash my face,” you announce, forcing a pleasant smile and turning to face the guys in the foyer. “If you have any questions—” Donghyuck nods, already opening his mouth to interrupt you, “— Somi dearest will answer them.”

He pouts. You can feel Jeno’s eyes on you, but you avoid looking in his direction like the plague.

What he must think of you after all this, huh? The second time he’s spoken to you in years and here you are yet again— embarrassed half to death and terribly out of your element, floundering in his presence like you did when you were fifteen and had no concept of confidence or coolness.

You were so sure that the night of the Nabi Bar incident was going to be a one time thing, and yet here you were again. Wasn’t last week supposed to be a once in a lifetime event? Something that you’d think of in a few months and laugh about— reminiscing over that time the guy you’d once been stupidly in love with came running out of the dark to save you, scooping you away from danger and patching your bruises up like some kind of romance novel prince? But now? 

Now it was starting to look like nothing about this, nothing about him was shaping up to be temporary. 

Things you hadn’t felt in years were starting to pick at your insides. You’d felt it that night when he’d dropped you off and you couldn’t sleep because your mind was racing so much. The cloying scent of his cologne was stuck in your nose and every brush against your bruised knuckles reminded you of how close you’d been in his bathroom, the sickeningly familiar feeling in your chest— Fluttering, fluttering, fluttering— And you’d felt it again in the car just now, an actual swoosh in your gut when you caught how he looked at you after Somi mentioned the Aegon competition. 

His gaze was soft.

Knowing, almost, if you wanted to get completely delusional about it. As if he’s always understood something about you that everyone else didn’t.

(…Knowing, like the look he’s giving you right now as you take a step towards the other end of the penthouse and make the mistake of catching his eye. God. There’s no way he doesn’t know you’re just trying to get the hell out of here; It feels like he’s seeing right through you.)

“Right,” you say to no one in particular. “Then I’m off.”

Somi— who’d wound up in the kitchen somehow during all this— whines your name along with something about the jajangmyeon when she sees you leaving, but you don’t even stop in your stride out of the foyer. “Jaemin will help you, Som, he knows how to cook better than I do. You’ll help her won’t you, Na? You wouldn’t leave a tipsy, defenseless maiden alone in a space full of danger and sharp things and fire, right?”

You hear the distant click of the stovetop turning on as you’re walking away, quickly followed by a bunch of clattering, like someone throwing around a few metal pots. You hear no response or movement and flick a warning look over your shoulder.

“I’m not kidding. If you don’t want this place to catch on fire you’d better help her quickly.”

“What?” Jaemin finally splutters, “You’re serious? You’re really going to just leave us alone out here with— Hey, hey, wait! Somi, you don’t need a knife that big to cut up scallions!”

He darts out of your sight. Okay. One out of three, occupied. 

You snatch up the television remote from the couch and turn it on, the giant flatscreen instantly lighting up the two remaining guys in the foyer as they stare after you. “You guys are into basketball, right? Knock yourselves out.”

“You’re… Cocomelon-ing us?” asks Donghyuck indignantly. “You think you can just put on ESPN and you’ll be absolved from helping cook? Do you think we’re five years old?!”

“Not five. Maybe like… eleven, or twelve? You strike me as more of a preteen.”

All that follows this is stunned silence. Great. That’s good enough of a reply for you. You toss the remote back onto the couch and continue farther into the rest of the house, face falling into a quiet grimace as you try to figure out just how you’re going to get through this night alone.

You feel it goes without saying that you do not only wash your face. You scrub everything above your neck, wash your hands, clean and cut your nails, pilfer through Somi’s extensive skincare shelf to rub some sort of moisture back into your now dry skin, comb your hair (and comb your eyebrows), worry at a speck of dirt on the shoulder of your top, take your socks off when you realize they’re a bit askew and then put slowly them back on, all in an attempt to drag out the time before you have to go back out there… only to look at your phone when you’re all done and realize only six minutes have passed since you’d first step foot in the bathroom. 

With a shameful sigh, you stop pilfering.

What is your actual game plan to get through this night in one piece? Because the awkward way you’ve started this surely isn’t going to cut it, if this sad stint in the bathroom means anything. Could acting normal be your ticket? Everyone else is already pretending that the rest of the night didn’t happen, like this is really just some sleepover— the echo of Donghyuck’s laughter out in the living room proves that he’s at least having a swell time— so why can’t you pretend this is all normal too? You could just act your ass off. (What is it they say? Fake it ‘till you make it?)

Normal, normal, normal. You can do that.

So normal in fact, that when you wander back out into the house, eyes down and lazily picking at your nails (like a normal person would do), you don’t notice right away that you have no audience. 

Jeno and Donghyuck aren’t on the couch where you’d left them. A laugh from the other side of the living room drags your eyes over until you’re staring into the kitchen where Donghyuck now is, apparently roped into helping by the looks of it, sleeves of his sweater pulled up his forearms and dutifully scrubbing at a handful of baby carrots in the sink. Slightly surprised, your gaze drifts over to the other movements happening behind him; a bedraggled-looking Jaemin following behind Somi as she wanders around her kitchen with a knife in each hand. His suggestions of safety seem to be going in one of her ears and out the other.

You spot movement on the balcony right as you think to wonder where the last boy has disappeared to.

The glass door leading to the overlook is cracked open an inch. The shadow of one gray flannel is briefly illuminated by the flash of lightning a few miles away, and with it comes the cool scent of rain into the house that you only notice now. The balcony is more like a porch with the size of it, nearly a full wraparound, and the figure blends in so well that it’s no wonder you didn’t see him out there at first. He’s leaning lazily on the railing, safe and dry from the retractable awning Somi always leaves out.

Of course. Figures he’d be out admiring the weather during a thunderstorm advisory warning.

Your stomach swirls a little bit at the sight of him, and you briefly consider leaving him alone and going to, like… help wash carrots or something, but your body knows you better. You’re wandering across the room before you can even think about moving.

“Having fun?” 

If Jeno flinches from your intrusion he covers it very well. When he turns halfway to greet you he’s nothing but an easy smile, face just barely illuminated in the warm yellow light from inside. He beckons you outside with a small head nod and you, a little surprised he actually wants company, push the door open a little wider. 

“Having fun,” he confirms as you wander up beside him. “You’re back?”

“I suppose so. Why are you out here by yourself?”

“Wasn’t really my choice,” he says, laughing, albeit a little sheepish.

“It wasn’t your choice? To come out here?”

“I offered to help cook, but Jaemin said I’d just take up space since I apparently take fifteen minutes to rinse a single potato. He banned me from touching anything.”

Oh. Is he notoriously slow in the kitchen? The most you’ve ever seen him make is burgers on your parents grill, but that was just flipping them every minute because Jaemin and Mark had done all the preparation. “Does it take you fifteen minutes to rinse a potato?”

“I like to be thorough when I wash produce. They come from the dirt, you know.” 

Oops. You hit a nerve. He sounds slightly miffed by the humor in your voice. Maybe your smile is still too obvious, because he squints when he catches the line of your mouth. 

“Right,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Forgot you’re the type who eats grapes out of the bag in grocery stores.”

“What— Why did you say it like that? I wipe them off first!” 

“Yeah, you wipe them off onto your clothes. Do you know how many different surfaces your shirt will rub up against in a day? At that point aren’t you just swapping germs?”

He’s not wrong, but you’re a little caught off guard by the fact he remembers that so clearly. It seemed like every grocery trip he used to tag along to when your family would go shopping, he would catch you slipping something into your mouth as you pushed the cart— a stray grape or  cherry, otherwise small and easily sneakable fruit. He’d always just smile, looking away like he didn’t see anything at all, but you always had a feeling he’d known what you were doing; and this was just confirmation that not only had he seen you, but he’d also permanently catalogued it into his memory. Ugh.

You cross your arms over the railing, turning away with a small huff. “Didn’t know you’d become a cleanfreak while I was gone. Slowpoke.”

The rain continues to pour. 

After the grape conversation the silence stretches on for so long that you think that’s going to be it, that you’ll both just stand out here and exist in the chilly air, the wind occasionally whipping a flurry of tiny droplets onto the sleeves of your clothes— but he hums right as you’re about to suggest going back inside.

"Even with the storm, the view up here is insane. I’ve never been this high up without glass in the way. That's Namsan over there, isn't it?"

"Namsan?" you echo, a little annoyed by how quickly your body turns to the sound of his voice, "Uh. Probably… not? Namsan Tower is completely east from here, almost a literal ninety degree angle from this side of the building. You might be seeing something else."

"You didn't even look,” he says. “How can you be so sure?"

"Because it should be impossible to see it from here. This is an inlay. Unless Palisades is skewed like, one degree south, there shouldn't be any way—"

"Okay, wise girl, what's that light I'm seeing over there then? Since you're so smart."

You scowl at him, clicking your tongue at the pleased squint of his eyes, and ignore how he laughs when you all but shove him out of the way to get a better look. You're squished into the very corner of the balcony railing in the attempt to see what damn light he's talking about— forgetting, like you did at his apartment last week, that you’re not close, and that you probably shouldn’t be so comfortable around with him like this— craning your neck almost painfully towards downtown. 

"There’s nothing there. Do you not have your contacts in or something?"

"I got Lasik a few years back, so I'd bet money my vision is better than yours. How are you not seeing it?" 

Lasik? This is news to you. If you weren't still trying to find this dot he's talking about you'd whip around, staring deep into his pupils like Lasik would have somehow left a mark that confirms what he's saying, a brand of some sort, but you keep your gaze sharp on the horizon of this fabled Namsan. 

You do end up speaking out loud though, absentmindedly. "I guess that’s not super surprising.”

"What?"

"It’s not surprising that you got Lasik. You used to talk about it a lot in highschool."

"I did?"

"Yeah, you used to complain about those big goggles they'd make you use during your games. And that putting in contacts every morning was annoying and took forever, but how you hated using glasses too, cause the glass was so thick that they made your eyes look funny." 

You’re not paying attention to how odd it might be that you just... remember all that stuff. Especially because he'd never really been talking to you when he said these things. You'd just overheard by chance, during the myriad of times you’d wind up in the same place as him somehow; whether it was the kitchen before school whenever he’d drop by a little too early and your mom forced him to eat breakfast with you and Mark, or when you’d hide on the stairs and eavesdrop on all of your brothers friends when they’d come over after basketball games.

"But I never really got it," you add, "’Cause to me you always looked pretty either way. Glasses and Goggles and whatnot. They were cute.”

You squint at a blinking red speck hovering right on the edge, near the corner of the building. 

“Christ, is that seriously it, Lee? That tiny red thing all the way over there? How the hell did you even see that through all these clouds?” 

He says nothing. Another few moments go by as you try to confirm if that's really what you're seeing, and you think it is Namsan Tower, there’s even a few more little white lights you hadn’t paid attention to at first because you’d thought they were just very persistent stars. Shit. His vision is better than yours. 

What a normal person would do now is turn around and relent— because, you remember belatedly, you’re still attempting to be normal— and tell him you’d miraculously been wrong, maybe rib him a little for his bionic eyes cheating for him, something friendly and nice and casual, but you don’t get the chance.

Why? Because when you turn, there’s less than two feet of space between you both. 

As if Jeno had also been trying to look for the tower, he is now crowding you against the corner of the balcony— arm still curled around the railing, but now limp as he stares down at you instead. Which means, since you've turned around, you're practically face to face.

And he looks... surprised.

"What?" you blurt quickly, “What happened?” 

He blinks hard and then looks away altogether, back into the black night of rain. His mouth is pursed into a very thin line, like he’s trying not to either laugh or frown.

"You thought I was pretty?" he asks.

Oh? Oh. “What?”

You stare at him for a very long moment, completely not following, and his lip only twitches in response. 

Is he… smiling? 

And then it hits you like a sack of bricks. You thought I was pretty?

Oh, God. Instantly, your expression sours— you almost want to hit him when you finally realize what that dumb, pleased look on his face is for (although it’s definitely more out of embarrassment at your own slip up because shit, did you really say that? Outloud?)

"You’ve got to be kidding,” you groan. “That’s what you’re looking all shellshocked for? Like that's something you need to hear from me, when you hear it all the time!”

You’d have thought you called him ugly with how Jeno’s smile suddenly vanishes. "All the time?"

Your mouth opens quickly to respond, already indignant, but when you catch the look on his face no sound comes out. His expression has turned into something much more curious than teasing now, eyebrows furrowed as you say nothing— He speaks again before you can figure out how to answer, yet another question, soft enough that it’s nearly lost in the thundering of the rain over the awning.

"And what makes you think that’s something I wouldn’t want to hear from you?"

You hear it loud and clear, yes, but as soon as the words are out of his mouth you’re still positive you’ve misheard him. 

Is he insinuating that he would’ve wanted to know you thought he was pretty? No. There’s no way that’s what he said. Are you still drunk? (Or has Lee Jeno’s presence in your life just been so brain-breaking lately that your mind is starting to pull illusions on you? Because why… Why would Lee Jeno ever give a shit what you thought about him?)

"I mean, it's— It’s not like it's a secret that you look like this," you eventually force out, both audibly and visibly flustered, which you hate yourself for. “I thought it was a given, that you know…. You’re obviously…”

“That I’m what?”

Hot, your traitorous brain supplies quickly. Cute? Pretty, attractive, stunning, chiseled from marble and yet soft and warm like watercolor, annoyingly beautiful— 

You glance away from him. "You know what.”

You’re embarrassed. Your voice has hardened a little with it, almost petulant, which is immediately annoying for multiple reasons, the biggest being that he’s even able to affect you like this at all after one stupid question. All those guys flirting with you at Wooyoung’s party a few hours ago and you’d brushed it off with ease, but Lee Jeno only looks at you and you can’t even meet his eyes? When did you become so uncool?

After a few awkwardly intense seconds you see him shift like he’s finally going to say something, and it’s merely a gift from the heavens that Jaemin’s voice rings out just then. It careens right through the crack in the balcony door, a sing-songy “Jeeeeno!” that shatters the atmosphere like tempered glass— quickly followed by, "And you too, Rockstar! Food is ready, come and get it before we eat it all! You’ll both catch a cold out there!”, and with the sudden reminder that, oh, yeah, you’re actually not alone in this house, you regain some of your lost composure.

You blast Jeno with a smile wide enough to signal airplanes and take one large step away from him. “Right. Food. Food! You’re hungry, right?”

Needless to say you do not wait for an answer. With haste you maneuver back into the house, quickly finding your way to the coffee table that Jaemin is in the middle of setting with plates and dishes, plastering a (hopefully) convincing look of wonder on your face. Your cheeks are already aching from the pull. How much faking have you had to do today? 

“Smells great!” you say saccharinely, “Which one is mine?”

“The one with the extra sauce and chives,” Jaemin replies as you sit down, but peeks over his shoulder in his walk back to the kitchen to fix you with a warning glare. (He remembered that you like extra greens. Nice.) “But don’t you dare start eating before I get back with the sides, I know how you get. Sit and wait.”

“Wait? What do you mean wait? I thought you said it was done—”

“Sit and wait!”

Frowning, you abide by his scolding, still too scattered to argue.

Donghyuck stirs when you plop down beside him. “I helped too,” he says to you proudly. Somi is on his other side, splayed out on the ground swiping away at her phone, one foot crossed lazily over his legs. He doesn’t seem to care (or realize) that they’re there. Huh. You’re pleased that they seem to be getting along well, but they’re both pretty much the most outgoing people you know so it’s not earth-shattering that in the few hours they’ve become acquaintances they’ve also somehow already evolved to getting touchy. Jeno is sitting at the metaphorical head of the coffee table on your left, and Jaemin’s steaming bowl is directly across from yours.

“All I saw you do was wash a baby carrot.”

“All of the baby carrots. And the chives, which was way more difficult to do after Somi already cut them up into microscopic pieces. I boiled the eggs and fried the onions, too. You love eggs, so when you eat them and your face falls off with how good they taste, I’m definitely taking credit for that.”

You and Donghyuck used to argue a lot when you were younger. He was the loudest of your brother's friends and loved to rile you up just as much as you loved to prove him wrong, especially during those rare afternoons spent in his presence when you’d been in too good of a mood to pretend Mark’s commune were the bane of your existence. A handful of times, you spared an hour or two to watch TV with them or steal some of their food. (They always happily offered you some, but it made you feel better about avoiding them when you assumed they were feeding you begrudgingly.) 

“I used to love eggs,” you tell Donghyuck snootily, that old squabbling-habit kicking in full force. “Who says I still do?”

“It’s not hard to tell, though,” Jeno pipes up. The last person you’re expecting to speak right now is him and it shows pretty obviously in how your head whips around. “Mark has been buying eggs like crazy because you eat through them so fast, which makes it obvious because Mark hates eggs. Every time I come over there’s a whole new box in the fridge. You’re like Dwane The Rock Johnson. That guy eats a carton of raw eggs a day.”

Silence. 

Your mouth opens, then closes. Dwayne the rock…?

“Busted! Looks like you’re not as opaque as you think, Rockstar—”

Perfect. An outlet. You whirl back around and sock Donghyuck in the shoulder the second the last word leaves his lips, and his dumb grin is immediately replaced with a grimace as he squeals and jolts. “Stop calling me that.”

“Right! Right, got it, fuck,” he groans. “Christ, I swear your punches didn’t hurt this bad before! Have you taken up Muay Thai or something recently…?!”

Muay Thai? You look down at your first for some reason like the answer will just be laying there across your skin, but all that happens is you see the faded remnants of the scratches on your knuckles from your unfortunate meeting behind Nabi Bar.

Oh.

…Nabi Bar. Nabi bar. Right. The night of Nabi Bar. Jeno’s quick how-to-punch lesson. Apparently, it’s had some effect.

“I didn’t do anything special. I was just like, sixteen the last time I hit you. A lot can change in four years.”

“Liar!” Somi suddenly blurts from the ground, startling both of you. If she wasn’t so hidden behind Donghyuck you’d instantly reach over to pinch her mouth closed. “She works out now. Got a hell of a kick, too, you should see her on those little sandbag things at the gym. Piss her off a little more an’ she’ll show you, I bet, ‘cause— Oh my god, there was this guy once a few weeks ago who got it good when he—”

“Food first,” a voice exclaims.

Jaemin appears from behind you like a ghost holding a tray of little bowls and plates, and oh, you could kiss him for cutting that conversation short. “You will be free to display whatever sadistic desires you please after we eat, okay? Now. Who wants dumplings?”

Somi senses the food and sits up straight, forgetting momentarily about reminiscing, thank god, and you, already famished and now reeling to change the subject, waste no time picking up your utensils to shovel noodles into your mouth. 

Midnight Dinner goes relatively peacefully after this. Jaemin and Hyuck argue about some basketball thing you don’t care to tune into, and later Somi cheerily informs the group that half the people at Wooyoung's party got stuck at the airBnB overnight when the weather advisory warning went out and that it’s chaos over there— people allegedly sleeping on the dancefloor and holing up in pantry closets. Thankfully (because your group chat probably would have been awash with death threats from Ryujin if not), Lia managed to get all of your girlfriends the hell out of there in time, and they were now safe and sound at Lia’s place a few blocks away from the party. 

However. When the food is eventually finished and Somi’s mouth is no longer occupied, life becomes difficult once again.

Foolishly, you thought you were in the clear. In your head the night’s end would have come like this: you’d peacefully tidy up the table, using your last bit of hospitality to do the dishes while Somi showed the guests their rooms like the good host she is— and while they were off doing that, you’d sneak into the room you always slept in when you were staying over, jump into the shower for just long enough for everyone else to forget about you and go to bed, proceed to go to bed yourself, and finish this seemingly endless fucking day underneath a fluffy, ten-thousand-count threaded duvet, never (or at least for a few hours before they inevitably showed up at Mark’s apartment tomorrow) to see Donghyuck, Jaemin and Jeno, ever again. It was the perfect plan. Infallible. Who could stop you, right?

Netflix could.

Right as you were about to put your plan into action and suggest cleaning up, Hyuck gasped so loudly at your side that you startled and choked on your own spit.

“Did you guys know that all of the Paranormal Activity movies dropped on Netflix tonight at midnight?” he exclaimed, “Like, all of them?”

And that had been the single nail in your perfect plan’s coffin. Whether he already knew that Somi happened to be a horror movie freak or if his outburst was pure coincidence, it didn’t matter. All it took for your friend to catch her second wind of energy was the mention of this fabled ‘Paranormal Activity’, and you watched your plan drift away into Valhalla as Somi insisted that after everyone clean up, you all finish the sleepover with a movie. 

It wasn’t the type of insistence that one could simply deny. Somi brought out the puppy-dog eyes. She used her trump card, and it worked. Donghyuck agreed immediately, the adrenaline junkie he is, and none of the rest of you objected either— even though you could even see it in Jaemin’s face that he wasn’t super enthusiastic about a horror movie right before bed, but what was he going to do? Say no to Somi? Who could charm the rosary off of a priest? 

So it was with a heavy heart that you trudged through cleaning up, and trudged into your room to shower, and trudged into your duffel to put the pajamas on that you’d brought along (which, thank god, you’d decided to go with a pair of basketball shorts and an old highschool hoodie this time instead of only the big t-shirts you usually just brought to her house), and finally trudged back outside to throw yourself down onto the couch, exhausted and feeling very unlucky. 

But at least you get to close your eyes for a little bit before everyone else comes out, right? Right. You bask in the beautiful, dark, ambient living room for… seven entire seconds before a voice rings out above your head.

“Is her brother a bodybuilder?”

God damn it. You crack your eyes open. 

Jeno is standing over you with a small frown on his face as he looks at his hands— or where his hands would be, if the sleeves of Somi’s brother's crewneck weren't completely covering them. He’s upside down when you look at him this way, but you can’t be bothered to roll over, so you just tilt your head up (or down?) until you can see him a little better.

“Her brother is a gym rat, yes. But he’s actually not that big. He’s not that much taller than you, actually.”

“He’s not that much taller than me? How is that possible? I look like a kid in this.”

A kid? This causes you to perk up a little bit. You turn slightly, just enough to get a right-side-up idea of what Jeno is talking about— and immediately have to press your lips into a line to keep from laughing. Or coo-ing. Whichever sound would escape first.

He wasn’t wrong about looking like a kid; the black crewneck almost reaches his thighs it’s so long, hanging loosely over his body like he got tangled in a windsail, the sleeves of which folding easily over his hands in what may be the most effective sweater-paws of all time. The sweatpants he’s got on aren’t helping either since they’re dragging on the floor under his socked feet, Jeno’s legs absolutely undistinguishable from cloth as he stands there and… scowls at you?

“What?” you blurt. But as the word comes out, you know exactly why he’s frowning. You’re smiling. He knows you’re trying not to crack up. Oops.

“I knew you were going to laugh,” he mutters, but he doesn’t sound as salty about it as you’d have thought from his glare. “I look stupid. Somi didn’t have anything else, you know. I asked.”

“Why are you explaining yourself to me?” you snicker, “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking it.”

Jeno sounded so petulant that you almost felt a little bad for him, but then he folded his arms, adorably haughty, the movement of which making the little sweater-paws comically flop over each other, and the pity is instantaneously obliterated by the intense urge to squish him into a ball and put him in your pocket. Holy shit. Could he get cuter than this? Thankfully, your restraint doesn’t have to last long (you’re pretty sure a vein is about to pop out of your forehead from the sheer force of not trying to cackle) because a sudden booming thud from the guest bedroom hallway snaps both of your attention to the other side of the house.

“No fucking way,” Donghyuck howls. And then all of a sudden he’s here. That’s the thumping— he’s… running? “No way!” 

No time to take full note of what he’s wearing (another gigantic hoodie and sweatpants combo) because he’s looking so frantic that his fashion takes the backburner. 

“You’re… overreacting,” you hear Jaemin say, following not soon after him, but for some reason not even he sounds sure about his own words. What the hell?

“Why didn’t you tell me— Why— Traitor! Traitor in my own home!” 

It’s only when his wide eyes find yours that you realize he’s yelling at you. 

“I— I’ve never been to your house,” you attempt quickly, stunned. Unsure, you glance at Jeno, but he seems just as alarmed as you do.

Jaemin grimaces. His steps make no sound because the fabric of his borrowed flannel pajama pants are so long that you actually can't see his feet at all. “Ignore him,” he says. “He… Somi just…”

“I told him who’s clothes he’s wearing,” Somi interrupts casually, coming from the same hallway they’d just come from, most likely her own bathroom. She’s the only one with clothes that fit, obviously; the usual pajama set you’re used to seeing her in, fuzzy and pink, blonde hair tied up into a bun on the very top of her head. It takes you a second to put her words together, the meaning of ‘who’s clothes’, before all of this hubbub makes sense.

“Oh,” you murmur. “Oh. Yeah. Big Jeon. Jeongguk.”

“Jeon Jeongguk!?” Donghyuck wails in exasperation. “Does that make sense?! Grammy award winning soloist Jeon Jeongguk!? Are you crazy! That man is my profile picture on SoundCloud and you didn’t think to tell me that your best friend is his little sister?!”

“I didn’t know you liked him that much,” you hazard lightly, rising to your knees on the couch.

This is a lie. You knew how much Donghyuck idolized Somi’s brother. It was kind of hard not to know when Hyuck had the man’s entire discography memorized. But being that you weren’t really in the business of exposing celebrities (and the fact that never in a million years would you have thought you’d end up in a situation like this) you’d never had the incentive to, you know, tell him. 

Which may have been a mistake, because now Donghyuck looks crazed. 

He makes a staggered lurch to the couch and you tense, holding your hands out like he might try to tackle you or something, but the fight seems to leave him all at once. He completely bypasses your outstretched arms to flop into the space you’d just occupied on the cushion. The ripple causes you to stumble back into sitting, and you stare down at him. “I’m wearing Jeon Jeongguk’s clothes…”

“Your shoes are in his entryway,” you tell him, just to rub it in. “And you ate his food, and sat on his furniture. You showered with Jeon Jeongguk’s soap. Does that normalize it for you?”

Donghyuck makes a weak sound, like he’s drifting away, all the air being pressed out of a blow-up mattress, and you snicker a little bit. For some reason, you pat his head— it’s instinctual, a soothing gesture you’d express to any friend— but he’s not your friend. And you realize this almost immediately after your hand makes contact with his (surprisingly soft) hair.

So why are you continuing to pat his head?

“Right,” Jaemin says with a sigh, pinching fruitlessly at his nose bridge. “Bomb defused. Or… Bomb exploded, technically. Let’s get this slumber party tied up nicely, yeah?”

You look up, nodding in agreement, and immediately make eye contact with Jeno. It feels like he’d already been looking at you, but he then proceeds to act like he wasn’t when you catch his gaze. 

…Okay. Weird. You stop petting Donghyuck’s head. Somi bounds towards the couch, reinvigorated with the mention of the movie, and you try not to side-eye Jeno too much when he plops down onto the couch next to you— at a considerable distance, might you add, like he hadn’t just been on top of you on the balcony an hour ago, but you instantly feel stupid for making that connection and whip your eyes away, once again agitated for some indiscernible reason.

The movie starts normally enough. With an entire couch-full of people and Donghyuck’s warmth at your side, since he’d never really moved from his dent next to you— if anything, sidling up closer once the oh-so-spooky-door-slammings started to happen in the film, because even if he likes to play coy, he’s really a big baby— it was pretty easy to stay grounded and not get too scared by the jumps and bumps on the screen. 

Too easy, maybe. Because at one point you swear you were just going to rest your eyes for a little, just take a tiny little break during a slow point in the plot…

And the next time you opened them, everything was dark.

It’s quiet. The TV is off. And you’re… alone? You’re alone.

Groggily, you try to sit up from where you’ve apparently laid down, and your neck aches like you’ve been stuck in this position for hours, but no way it’s been hours, right? You didn’t seriously fall asleep? 

However. The more you look around, the more signs point to the fact that, yeah, you totally blitzed it. You fell asleep. During a horror movie, no less. And it seems like everyone else made it through the film, as there’s not a single other person still out here on the couch. (So they couldn’t wake you up when they went to bed? Bastards.)

Once your eyes focus you glare across the house into the kitchen, and spy the time on the oven clock. 5:35AM.

Too early for you to have risen by yourself. You usually won’t wake up even if someone is banging pots and pans together outside of your bedroom door, so what… and why is it so cold in here? Your toes are freezing. The rest of you, not quite as much, because there’s a blanket draped over you that you don’t remember being there when you fell asleep. You sit up all the way, rubbing the crusties from your eyes and looking around again once your eyes have adjusted to the darkness, and find the answer to all of your questions in one look over to the source of the chill.

The balcony door is open again, and somebody is out there. Somebody in a big dark sweater, dwarfing their shape behind the fabric, but you’d recognize that pretty profile pretty much anywhere.

Lee Jeno. Again.

“Why are you awake,” you mutter nasally, throat still not completely woken up. This time he does jump at your intrusion— the big eyes and jolt would be funny if it weren’t so chilly out here. The blanket you wrapped around your head and body is doing well to deter the cold, but your feet and face aren’t happy.

“Did I wake you up?” Jeno asks, turning around fully. The black of his hair is just barely distinguishable from the dark blue of early morning. 

You stand stiffly in the doorway again, not as confident to join him by the railing as you’d been last night.

“I don’t know. How long have you been out here?”

“Give or take fifteen minutes.”

You shrug. “Then probably not. Fifteen minutes, though? Out here? You must be trying to get sick for real.” 

You’re squinting for no good reason other than the fact that you can’t quite open your eyes all the way yet. “And old people don’t fare well with colds, you know.”

He cracks a smile at this, bigger than you’re expecting for that weak of a joke. Before he can respond though, you surprise yourself by speaking first. 

“Do you want to share my blanket?”

A beat of silence. It takes a second for your words to catch up with your obviously quite lagging brain, but when they do, you’re hit with a jolt of surprise that almost wakes you up fully. Shit! Again, saying things before you think— this is what got you in hot water last night!

“Actually— Sorry, you probably want to be alone right? Right, I’ll—”

“I wouldn’t mind sharing,” Jeno interrupts with a small smile, and you freeze. “It’s colder out here than I thought it would be. You might as well watch the sunrise with me, right? You’re already up.”

“Sunrise?” 

“Yep. Should pop over the horizon any minute now.”

Oh. Your spine de-rigifies. 

That is… actually, a very Jeno thing to do. Waking up at the crack of dawn just to see the sunrise.

Now you feel a little dumb for that not being one of the first things you assumed when you first saw him out here. Another second passes before you build the courage to step out again, right back into the spot you’d been last night— but this time, you shrug the edge of the (thankfully) rather large blanket open, and fling it wantonly over Jeno’s head, unsure how this has become your life. Highschool You would be crying tears of blood. (From envy or pride, you’re not sure.)

“Do it so no air gets in,” you instruct, and he obeys easily. 

Soon enough you’re two peas in a blanket pod, only your faces poking out, but you’re… closer than you’d anticipated. Even with the size of the blanket. You can feel the fabric of his sweatpants brushing against your leg. If you look up too fast, you might headbutt him.

“This was a good idea,” Jeno murmurs suddenly, and you actually almost do heatbutt him when you jump at how close his voice is. “I forgot you burn like a furnace. I feel like there’s a space heater in here with me.”

You only nod. Anything more than that feels obscene with how quiet it is. 

For a few minutes neither of you say anything, silent while the sky slowly blues, purples, and then turns the slightest shade of pink around the edges, a tiny little ray of sunlight peeking through the streets but not quite reaching through the skyscrapers yet. And this is… fine. Just two people watching the sunrise, alone. Acquaintances. Sharing a blanket to detract from the chill morning wind of September, just like regular people do.

“Do you remember Mark’s twentieth birthday?” Jeno asks, out of nowhere. 

“His… twentieth?” you echo. “You mean the one you and him had to spend in the ER, because of that longboard Donghyuck got him?”

“That one was also pretty funny,” Jeno smiles, and you roll your eyes. Boys. Of course he’d think getting a matching broken arm cast with Mark Lee would be funny. “But no, that was eighteen. I’m talking about when you and I accidentally locked ourselves out of your house trying to sneak his cake inside. When we had to wait in your old treehouse for an hour for him to come home, in the dark, in the middle of a monsoon?”

Once he mentions the treehouse, the memory hits you like a punch to the gut. 

That birthday. Jeez… yeah, how could you forget that? Jeno might as well have just said, ‘Remember the day you realized you had more than just a crush on me?’ 

With the caliber of feelings you’d had for him at that point, being stuck in that small space had been the highlight of your whole month, forget the fact that you’d torn a hole in your favorite shirt from clamoring up the wooden ladder and your toes had gotten so wet and pruney in your shoes that they bled. If you’d asked highschool you though, if you’d relive all of that bullshit— sprinting across the backyard while a torrential downpour hailed from the sky, laughing at how his glasses fogged completely over by the time you collapsed into the only marginally more sheltered treehouse, the hour you spent in there pressed against his side while you waited for your brother to get home— Yeah, you’d have done it again. 

Splinters in your palms, cobwebs and leaves in your hair, the ruined pair of sneakers, all of it. A hundred times over. Just because you were with him, and that was all that ever mattered back then.

Your stomach twists at the recollection, an unfamiliar feeling stirring somewhere under your skin. God. How lame, huh? You’d really been head over heels. 

“That was the first time I realized you doubled as a human fireplace,” Jeno says finally, snapping you out of it, and only then do you understand where this is coming from. “I was soaked to the bone, and yet I felt like I was sweating because I was sitting so close to you.”

“You caught the cold so badly the next day that we all genuinely thought you were going to die,” you remind with a short, weak laugh. “If I was supposed to be keeping you warm, I wasn’t doing a very good job of it.”

He hums softly. “You’re doing a pretty good job right now.”

It’s here where you make the first of many mistakes.

Without thinking, you look up at him. The sun has crested over the horizon now, orange rays of sunlight fully peeking through the buildings, and the glow of it is lighting Jeno up a blurred golden, filtering through his black hair and turning it bronze as he smiles off into the distance. It’s such a pretty picture that your thoughts, admittedly, falter quite hard at the sight— and it doesn’t help that when he senses your eyes on him, he glances down. 

And again. You’re huddled up under the same blanket. You are very close. Close enough to feel his arm brushing up against yours, and to see the pools of honey brown in the eyes that had looked like such an intense, endless black last night.

(Maybe you’d reminisced too hard. Maybe the memory of that night in the treehouse pulled some feelings up from the long forgotten pit in your chest, the same place that used to flutter when you’d hear Lee Jeno’s name and pound like crazy in the rare times he’d call yours, the place that you’d thought died when he graduated and was never going to bother you again. The place you thought died. Because after what you say next? The only explanation for it is that your pit of love-struck stupidity is still thriving and fucking well.)

“We had an emergency key taped under the porch swing,” you blurt thoughtlessly. 

Jeno blinks a few times in quick succession, like those had been the last words he was expecting you to mutter after staring at him so fiercely. “You… What?”

“A key to the front door. I remembered that it was there about fifteen minutes after we climbed into the treehouse.”

Self-preservation finally shows up to the word-vomit party, belatedly locking the key to your mouth so no other stupid confessions can escape— But it’s too late. Despite the intense confusion on his face, it’s clear that he heard you perfectly. You don’t have to be looking at him to feel how hard he’s thinking either; putting the pieces together, trying to understand what exactly you’re telling him— and after what feels like half an hour, Jeno finally speaks. 

“So we could have gone inside before Mark got home?”

You cringe a little bit. “Yeah.”

“And you didn’t tell me on purpose?”

“...Yes.” 

“Well. Okay,” Jeno eventually says, sounding thankfully only slightly bewildered, and not mad like he’d be well within his rights to be. “Can I ask why you’re telling me this now? Guilty conscience?”

“I don’t… know,” you tell him honestly. “Maybe. You reminded me of it when you brought it up and I guess my brain realized I’d never told you about that. I wasn’t really thinking when I mentioned it. It’s— It’s still very early, I’m not functioning all the way yet. Sorry.”

“Sorry for your brain trying to get you in trouble, or sorry for trapping us in the rain for an hour and a half because you were too embarrassed to tell me that you forgot about the spare key?” 

This gets you to look up. What? 

“Embarrassed?”

“I mean, after we’d already been soaked through, I don’t think I’d want to bring up the spare either. Why else wouldn’t you say anything?”

Jeno is simply smiling at you again, eyes shaped into those little knowing crescents you used to daydream about, but you can’t stop to admire them right now. That’s why he thought you didn’t tell him?

When you analyze the emotions swirling in your chest you realize that you’re oddly… disappointed. Because you were embarrassed? It wasn’t like you didn’t know Jeno was humble (or just dense, as Donghuck would say), but come on. Is that really the first thing his mind would come to for why a girl would willingly stay up in some wet, old, gross treehouse with a guy when she obviously had the means to go back into her own home? Is it so impossible to guess that it was him you were there for?

Why you’re so disgruntled by his response is unclear, and it seems Jeno has caught on to your displeasure. 

“Why are you frowning at me like that?”

“Like what?” you reply hastily. “I’m not frowning at you.”

He squints, and you glance away from his suddenly very analytical stare. “...You are, though. You’re frowning at me right now. You said you weren’t frowning at me while you were frowning. Did I miss something?”

Yeah. You missed everything apparently. The last six years, even. 

“No.”

“That’s a lie,” he says immediately. You’re so surprised by the certainty in his voice that you almost forget that you’re trying not to look at him. “You’re doing that thing. With your forehead.”

“Excuse me? I’m not doing anything with my—”

Jeno raises one finger to press right between your eyebrows, relaying the tension you’d unknowingly been holding there, and your words pretty much die in your throat alongside the memory of why you’re even pissy in the first place. “This thing,” he says. “When you lie, your eyebrows get all raised and angry looking. You have a pretty bad poker-face, Rockstar.”

“Stop calling me that,” you mutter automatically, but it has no real heat behind it. God damn it. Could you be more lame? Losing your fight and ire just because he put his finger on your forehead? “And stop stabbing me.”

He takes his finger back. “Are you going to tell me why you didn’t say anything about the key?”

“You answered your own question. I was embarrassed.”

“Liar. Your forehead—” You slap a hand over your eyebrows, and Jeno actually laughs. “... actually isn’t doing anything this time, but now because you did that I know you’re lying anyway. Got you.”

Fuck! Ripping your hand away from your skin, you scowl at him, embarrassed that he figured you out so easily. “Why do you even give a shit, Jeno?”

“I mean, I didn’t until your forehead started telling me differently.”

“My forehead is not— I don't—”

Jeno snickers at your indignance, smiling deviously like he’s enjoying teasing you more than he’s letting on, and your stress worsens. 

“You’re the one who brought it up, you know—”

“I know,” you bark, “It’s just—”

“Did you think I’d be mad?”

“No! I— God, is it so hard to believe that I did it because I liked you?”

The words are out before you even realize what you’re saying. Or what you’re doing, should you say which is completely destroying six years of secrecy in one fell, sleep deficient, Forehead-Poking-Fueled haze.

You stare at him, breathing a little hard at both the outburst and in shock, and Jeno stares right back, no longer looking quite as amused. There’s such a long beat of silence at first that you, in your stupor, have the gall to wonder if he didn’t hear you— like that would be possible when you’d basically shouted your half-baked confession in his face— but then Jeno shifts, blinking hard, and all of a sudden the silence did not last long enough.

“You liked me?”

God, it sounds even more delusional out loud. Damage control, Gremlin Brain spits, Damage control! Backtrack, now! Your only saving grace, the only reason you’re not currently trying to find a way to throw yourself off of this balcony, is because he doesn’t sound completely disgusted with you. You force the most indifferent mask you can muster onto your face, attempting to blink the panic out of your expression.

“Liked you? So, maybe— Maybe it was a little, small thing. A kiddie crush, really, nothing to be… talked about…”

“Back then?” Jeno clarifies, sounding… Well, you’re not sure how he sounds and that’s so much worse. “You felt that way in the treehouse? When you were a junior?”

“Yes? Yeah, I mean. Yes. It was a little thing. A tiny thing. Listen—”

“But I thought you stopped liking me after Sungchan asked you out?”

Those twelve words are the equivalent of getting splashed in the face with a cup of ice water. 

(Jeno frowns, lips thinning as he thinks. “Or was his name Seunghan?”)

For the first time in probably your entire life, you actually ignore what Lee Jeno is saying to you. As he mumbles to himself about the prospective name of this alleged ‘date’, his previous words echo in your head over and over again like someone replaying the same three-second stretch on a vinyl record— And with each iteration, your skin warms another degree. By the time you finally collect yourself enough to speak, paralyzed with shock, your face is burning so warm with something— disbelief, surprise, straight up fear, you’re not sure yet— that you’re positive that steam is curling out of your pores. 

But I thought you stopped liking me after Sungchan asked you out?

(“I swear it was something with an S...”)

Jeno is looking elsewhere as he thinks— Until the incredulity in your voice brings his attention back to the present. 

“You… knew?”

“Knew?” His lips twitch with a small smile. Seemingly still not grasping the severity of the shitstorm occuring in your mind, Jeno laughs softly, bashful. “About how you felt? Well. Yeah? You've never really been that subtle about… anything, you know.”

You can’t move. It’s actually beginning to get a little unbearable under this blanket with the sun starting to beam down on you and the added heat from your own ebbing horror, but you can’t move. 

You’re being hit with every glaringly obvious cue you've probably ever given him, a rolling tape of embarrassing memories. It’s an attempt happening completely in vain, as trying to find the one that tipped him off is impossible; sifting through years worth of moony-eyes you thought were hidden by your undetectable stealth, the times you’d ‘randomly’ maneuver yourself sitting near him when the chance arose, all the times he’s probably caught you just staring and known exactly why while you thought he was none the wiser.

Holy shit. So the last six years of your life, the two years you’d stopped being obsessed with him included, have been a complete and utter show? A clown show, with you as the main act? Horror overtakes you. Fuck, what you’d give to go back a few minutes and stop yourself from even coming out here in the first place, to keep living in ignorance— he’d known. He’d known! Jeno knew about the giant, stupid crush you had on him, which probably meant that every single time you got flustered or clammed up or been weird around him recently he knew why, and… 

Wait. You freeze, current freak-out taken over by another thought that bursts into your mind.

I thought you stopped liking me after Sungchan asked you out?

Sungchan? You rack your brain. Sungchan, the classmate you’d become fast friends with during the first semester of junior year, your sky-scraper tall, smartass of a deskmate for the few months before he grew the courage to ask you out. You’d both tried it out for a few days before realizing that maybe the dating life wasn’t the best avenue for your relationship and amicably returned to being friends, still close even when he ended up transferring to another highschool a few cities away over the summer. Even now you still kept in touch, sending the occasional ‘this deer looks like u’ and ‘omg i just found this polaroid in my old notebook, look at how babie u were’ texts to one another, but that had really been it. 

You dated Sungchan for about four and a half days in the grand scheme of things. Not nearly long enough to even dent the ocean of unresolved feelings you’d had about Lee Jeno. Those feelings would continue to haunt you until the ripe old age of eighteen, up until when he and your brother graduated— But if Jeno thought that you completely stopped liking him after Sungchan that meant he didn’t have a clue about the years you still idolized him after that, didn’t it?

For a second you almost feel ill.

(Of course, however. Of course, right as your failing mask of indifference hits its weakest point, that’s when your luck would have Jeno belatedly notice that you are not having nearly as good a time reminiscing about this as he is.)

He finally reads the look on your face, the tightness of your lips and the unmistakable mortification, and his eyes widen so quickly with understanding that you would have laughed if you could release your mouth from its grimace.

“There wasn’t anything wrong with that though,” he blurts, backpedaling, “I mean— It was nice to be thought of so highly by someone like you. It was cute.”

Your smile tightens further. 

You know he’s trying. Very hard. To rectify what he must see as him unknowingly upsetting you or something. But his words do exactly the opposite, and the second after he calls it that— the nearly five years you’d spent falling over yourself over someone, who you are now being told, has always just thought your feelings were ‘cute’— something splinters a little bitterly in your chest. 

Jeno, to his credit, realizes immediately that he’s misspoken. 

You can practically see it in his expression, the wince when you take a step back. It causes the blanket to fall away from you completely, now left hanging lopsidedly on Jeno’s shoulders— the movement of which seems to concern him more than you’re expecting. 

“Wait,” he says quickly. “That didn’t come out properly. Y/N—” 

Nope. No. You take another step back.

Time to go. What a perfect moment this could be to go back inside. Yep! A convincing yawn here, a shiver, a thanks for the sunset-watching-invitation, and then you can abscond back into the house to the comforting loneliness of your bedroom to immediately and until further notice pretend you never came out here and that none of this ever—

“I would’ve taken you seriously,” Jeno finishes in one short breath, like the words are escaping his mouth without the permission of his brain, “If I could’ve. You know that, right?”

Record scratch. 

His mouth opens and closes when you freeze, visibly struggling to find the words to explain what he’s just said (or dropped on you, it feels more like), and you just stare at him, uncomprehending.

“No, I… I don’t know? If you could have? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You— You’re my best friend's baby sister,” he grinds out quietly, like it’s somehow supposed to explain everything, but you’re only left more confused. Confused and, suddenly, at the random mention of Mark at a time like this, on edge. “Not to mention you were like, sixteen—”

“I’m only one year under you though,” you interrupt.

“You skipped a grade in elementary school, I’m aware, but that doesn't make you any older. Two years is a big difference.”

“It really isn’t? Especially not when both people involved are adults, and did you forget about Yooa? The girl who confessed to you when you were a senior, that you dated, who was definitely only a few months older than me?”

Jeno’s eyebrows furrow like you’d just asked him if he remembered the eye color of somebody he met when he was five. He frowns like he’s trying to recall exactly who you’re talking about, this girl who’s entire name, history, and zodiac sign you’d had emblazoned into your mind because when she first started dating Jeno you’d cried for an hour straight and then proceeded to cyber-investigate the girl’s twitter to torture yourself a little more. 

“So unless four or five months really makes all the difference to you, I’m calling bullshit on the age thing, which now begs the question— what the hell does ‘taking me seriously’ have to do with my brother?” 

“It has everything to do with your brother,” Jeno replies eventually, voice taut. “And you and I both know you and Mark don’t always see eye to eye, so I really think it would be best if we just dropped—

“Did he say something to you?” you mutter, accusatory. “About me?”

“He—It’s not that easy, Y/N. Mark wasn’t—”

You scoff, boiling over. “Mark didn’t this, Mark doesn’t that, does being ‘best friends’ also mean that you’re obligated to be his lapdog? What is it with you guys and deferring to his every whim?”

Jeno’s words cut short. You’re pushing it, even for someone as controlled and notoriously difficult-to-rile as Jeno, and the burgeoning tick in his jaw is telling you as much, but you’ve never really been one to heed warnings. And now you’re pissed, so the tense pull between his eyebrows is peas to you. “Or are you going to be a big boy and tell me what he—”

“Mark didn’t tell me anything,” Jeno finally relents, sharper than you’re used to, but you hold your ground when he takes a step forward. “I acted like I didn’t know how you felt on my own, because what else was I supposed to do when Mark only ever spoke about you like you put the stars in the sky? Once I met you he started telling me about your grades. He’d get so excited to tell me how you were doing in dance, or what new music you were blasting in your room, or whatever new achievement you got and thought he didn’t notice, and after a while I found myself thinking about you when I wasn't even with him and that scared the shit out of me. Why? Because he's my best friend. Do you think I didn’t already know exactly how he felt about anyone that even so much as looked at you?” 

And so the dam breaks. These are the most words you think he’s ever spoken in one setting and stunned by the intensity in his voice, you can only listen.

“Not to mention that by the time I figured out whatever I was feeling, there were only a few weeks left before I moved to Seoul for university. So I left it alone.”

He blinks, hard. “And eventually you got over me. So it’s—"

“If you say it’s alright, Lee Jeno, I’ll deck you.”

You don’t know where the fury comes from. Maybe it’s not anger at all. Maybe it’s the wave of disappointment, regret, resignation, and sadness from what could have been, all rolled into one. But it comes out as rage, the flare in your eyes and the resentful edge to your words.

“Have you ever wondered why Mark and I don’t see ‘eye to eye’, Jeno?”

His lips part, but no sound comes out. Whether it’s because he knows better than to answer right now or because he genuinely doesn’t know, you’re not aware.

“Because of this,” you mutter, “Because of this. Did you know that there was a point in my childhood where the feeling was mutual? A point where Mark was my favorite person in the entire world? I couldn’t imagine a single day where I’d want to be anywhere but with him. He was my brother, my friend— but then, as most people do, I got older. And when I got older and ceased to be the little thing that followed his every suggestion, when I stopped wanting to do everything the same safe way he did it, he stopped seeing me as that friend and started treating me like something he needed to protect. Instead of being brave, I became reckless. Everything I wanted to do became dangerous. Everyone I hung out with was a bad influence, every place I went was unsafe. He stopped trusting me.”

The laugh between your words is humorless.

“And for years, I thought it was my fault. That I did something to make him lose so much faith in me. Do you know what that feels like?”

The crack in your voice makes Jeno look away sharply. It’s quick, as though the sound had physically grabbed him, and the movement is what snaps you back to the painful present. 

You take a step back, hastily blinking the very unwelcome burn from your eyes— It’s 7AM on a Saturday morning and you’re yelling at Lee Jeno on your best friend's balcony. When did your life get to this point? 

“For the better part of four years, all I looked for was you. But because I’m your best friend's little sister, even though you knew, you did nothing, right? Because Mark said so?”

Jeno bristles again. “Mark didn’t say—” 

“He didn’t have to say it!” you shout. “Mark doesn’t trust me to make my own decisions and somehow that ended up making the only boy I’ve ever loved keep his mouth shut when he could’ve liked me back. Does that make sense?”

Jeno’s eyes fly back to your face. If you thought he’d been surprised when you told him you liked him, then the look on his face right now would be one to snap a picture of. Oops. Guess you weren’t supposed to let that word slip— only four letters and yet such a big, big difference. But it probably doesn’t matter since you’ve already gone and fucked it all up by accidentally confessing. 

You gather what little boldness you have left and look him right in the eyes.

"I’m only going to ask you this now,” your voice is wavering, but you ignore it, “Because a younger me used to lose sleep wondering what your answer would be.”

He must know what’s coming. You watch his eyes flash a million things, none of them decipherable.

“Am I only ever going to be Mark's little sister to you? No matter what?"

One beat.

Two beats.

His lips part as though to speak,

Three.

But nothing comes out.

A car honks down on the street below. A strong breeze sends goosebumps rising across your skin. A song goes off somewhere inside the house, a sudden singing twinkle; Jaemin’s alarm. You’re able to recognize it from the dozens of times he’s slept over at Mark’s place. He’d said something last night about having to leave super early, swim team practice or the like; he must’ve left his phone out in the living room somewhere, but the guy has ears like a hawk and has no doubt heard the tune from whatever blanket he’s under. He’ll come out to turn it off any second now, and you don’t want to be out here when he does.

“At least you’re honest,” you tell a very troubled-looking Jeno with a small, plastic smile. 

You don’t wait for an answer, and you don’t turn back for the entirety of the walk back inside— and then, once you’re out of eyesight, the glazed over stumble— to your guest room. You slowly take out the extra duvet from the closet, wrap it around yourself like the world's saddest burrito, collapse onto the bed, and try your damndest not to cry.

(Safe to say that after about ten seconds, you lose that fight terribly.)

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! [chapter edited & updated on 12/20/23!]

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#lee jeno #nct dream #nct jeno #lee jeno fic #nct dream one shot #nct dream × reader #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #jeno #jeno lee #jeno x reader #jeno × you #jeno x Yin #jeno drabbles #ieno scenarios #jeno imagines #jeno fic #jeno fluff #jeno smut #jeno angst #jeno oneshot #jeno fanfic #nct dream fic #nct dream ieno #nct × reader #nct fic #nct imagines #jeno au #misdial masterlist

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH3 TEASER] LIKE A MORNING CALL

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

slight slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, eventual smut, yn is a menace to society

warnings for this chapter; none :-3 

teaser wc: 950 / comment on this post for taglist!

taglist: @hibernatinghamster @jenoxygen @eaglesnotravens @donutswithjaminthemiddle @jvjsssnaa @huangrenhyucks @luvenshiti @shiningdery @jaeminsbebu @aliceinwhateverland @bebsky @im-ako @gem-gem @jkjkseo @jenosbliss @tanugsblog @pewpewpwe00 @ti--red @philanarose @softbbyg0rl @aaasteroidsky @carelessshootanonymous @en-boyz @jlsavy @roseymerries @bangchanisemo @skuezk @peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @zarastrawberry @honeym4rk

[a/n]: im still swamped with work but i like misdial too much to leave it alone LOL please forgive me for disappearing on you,,, here is a lil sneak peek for your patience

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THE CONDOS AND APARTMENTS HOSUED INSIDE OF THE PALISADES TOWER ARE MYTHICAL FOR GOOD REASON, because the penthouse in which Jeon Somi lives is easily something out of a melodrama.

Cleancut modern black and gray, subtle wealth in the dark marble and polished gold metals, endlessly high ceilings and windows so large and clear that it was easy to forget there was glass there at all (which, when you’re so high up, is a pretty freaky feeling). If this wasn’t your hundredth time being here you’d probably be just as awed as the guys behind you are— eyes wide as they shuffled out of their shoes in the entranceway, faces slack at the absolutely bonkers state of her home— but as it stands, you don’t even bat an eye. You just fling your sneakers in the front closet and slap the living room light switch on, the weight of this disastrous day settling on your shoulders all at once.

Forcing a smile, you turn and attempt something close to a pleasant expression to the guys standing in the foyer. Well. Time to put your acting shoes on and pretend the last two hours never happened.

“I’m going to go and wash my face, so don’t wait up! Feel free to make yourself comfortable; there are two bathrooms down that hall and if you need anything else… Well, you know how houses work, I assume.”

You feel Jeno’s eyes on you immediately, but you can’t meet them.

What he must think of you after all this, huh? Christ.

You were so sure that the night of the Nabi Bar incident was going to be a one time thing, a once in a lifetime event that you’d think of in a few months and laugh about— reminiscing over that time the guy you’d once been stupidly in love with came running out of the dark to save you, scooping you away from danger and patching your bruises up like some kind of romance novel prince— but now? Now it was starting to look like nothing about this, nothing about him was shaping up to be temporary.

Things you hadn’t felt in years were starting to pick at your insides. You’d felt it that night when he’d dropped you off and you couldn’t sleep because your mind was racing so much. The cloying scent of his cologne was stuck in your nose and every brush against your bruised knuckles reminded you of how close you’d been in his bathroom, the sickeningly familiar feeling in your gut— Fluttering, fluttering, fluttering— And you’d felt it twice in the car just now, one blow right after the other. First, when Donghyuck had told you about their sneaky night in Gangnam, you’d watched how Jeno ruffled under the attention and for some reason you had the itch to know more, more, more, what else he’d done, what other little stories you could pry out of him that would make him fluster like that, what other things he’d been up to in the time you weren’t around… And you’d felt it stronger the second time, an actual swoosh in your gut when you saw how he looked at you after Somi mentioned the Aegon competition.

His gaze was softer than you’d seen it in a really long time.

Knowing, almost, if you wanted to get completely delusional about it. As if he’s always understood something about you that everyone else didn’t.

(…Knowing, like the look he’s giving you right now as you take a step into the living room and towards the back of the penthouse, and make the mistake of catching his eye. Yikes. There’s no way he doesn’t know you’re trying to get the hell out of here— It feels like he’s seeing right through you.)

“Right,” you say to no one in particular. “Then I’m off.”

Somi (who’d wound up in the kitchen somehow during all this) whines your name along with something about the jajangmyeon when she sees you leaving, but you don’t even stop in your stride out of the foyer. “Jaemin will help you, he knows how to cook. You’ll help her won’t you, Na? You wouldn’t leave a tipsy, defenseless maiden alone in a space full of danger and sharp things and fire, right?”

You hear the distant click of the stovetop turning on as you’re walking away, quickly followed by a bunch of clattering, like someone throwing around a few metal pots. You hear no response or movement, and flick a warning look over your shoulder.

“…I’m not kidding by the way. If you don’t want this place to catch on fire, you’d better help her quickly.”

"Wait,” Jaemin finally splutters, “You’re serious? You’re really going to just leave us alone out here with—" Another clatter. "Hey, hey wait! Somi, you don’t need a knife that big to cut up scallions!”

He darts out of your sight. Okay. One out of three, occupied.

On your way across the living room you snatch up the television remote from the couch and turn it on, the giant flatscreen instantly lighting up the two remaining guys in the foyer as they stare after you. “You guys are into basketball, right? Knock yourselves out.”

“…You’re Cocomelon-ing us?” asks Donghyuck indignantly. “You think you can just put on ESPN and you’ll be absolved from helping cook? Do you think we’re five years old?!”

“Not five. Maybe like… ten, or eleven? You strike me as more of a preteen.”

He must not have expected you to respond so honestly, because all that follows this is stunned silence. Great. That’s good enough of a reply for you. You toss the remote back onto the couch and continue farther into the rest of the house, face falling into a quiet grimace as you try to figure out just how you’re going to survive this night alone.

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART]

the rest is coming soon :-) thanks for sticking with me so far <3

#LEE JENO #NCT DREAM #NCT JENO #LEE JENO FIC #NCT DREAM ONE SHOT #NCT DREAM X READER #NCT DREAM SMUT #NCT DREAM IMAGINES #JENO #JENO LEE #JENO X READER #JENO X YOU #JENO X YIN #JENO DRABBLES #JENO SCENARIOS #JENO IMAGINES #JENO FIC #JENO FLUFF #JENO SMUT #JENO ANGST #JENO ONESHOT #JENO FANFIC #NCT DREAM FIC #NCT DREAM JENO #NCT X READER #NCT FIC #NCT IMAGINES #JENO AU #MISDIAL MASTERLIST