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hwaslayer · 4 months

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crimson (cs) | one shot.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—word count: 21.8k

—content/warnings: cussing/mature language, heavy on the night club/strip club setting, lap dances, oc doesn’t remove her clothing by choice but is a little more hands on with her clients at the club, alcohol consumption/intoxication, san’s got some baggage with his ex, mentions of a toxic past relationship, mentions of severed relationships with loved ones, protected/unprotected sex, praising, making out, one shower together hehe, missionary, doggy style wooof, cowgirl, sprinkle of spit play, clit play, breast play, mentions of marking, ass slapping, mentions of men getting touchy at the club, fighting (some pushing and a few punches), arguments, flashback scenes, not all ateez members are present - only mingi, san, wooyoung, hongjoong and jongho

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT’s you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

He became your number one client.

Quick.

You remember the first time he stepped into the club with his friends, eyes roaming the floor until they landed on yours. You hadn’t expected the group to walk in when they did— the club being pretty dead lately, with the usual, familiar men walking in to let off some steam, to get their fix. You could tell it was the first time they’d ever walked into a strip club with the way they paused near the entrance, not really knowing where to go or how to get settled from there. One of his friends took the lead and walked towards the main stage, his hesitancy obvious with how stiff and awkward he was as he sat on one of the velvet chairs closest to the stage. You hadn’t really paid much mind to them at first, especially him. You had been busy on the other end of the stage, but his eyes had been glued on you the entire time.

That solely piqued your interest.

He sunk into the chair comfortably, manspreading as his hands rested on his legs. He stared at you with his cat-like eyes, almost pleading for you to come closer and entertain him while his friends were busy tossing bills at your coworker on the right side of the stage.

He didn’t budge.

You strutted over, initially planning to tease him a bit; play around, work with his ways to give him something to remember. Little did you know that taking the first leap, giving him that attention, was going to change everything between you and this stranger.

Everything.

▹ FLASHBACK

You step in front of the pole, sliding down until you get to a crouch– making sure your legs are spread enough for him to see the itty bitty fabric from your bodysuit barely covering your parts. You can see him subtly bite onto his bottom lip as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You get a little closer, getting onto your knees to crawl towards him; ass posted up in the air while you keep your eyes glued onto him. You’re close enough to the point where he can slip a few dollars into the v-neck of your bodysuit.

And he does, adorning that pretty smirk of his; pearly whites peeking through those pink, plump lips.

“Atta boy!” You hear one of his friends yell. “San’s finally enjoying himself!”

“Dude’s got heart eyes. Look at him. Mesmerized as shit.” Another of his friends laughs before continuing to shower the right side of the stage with bills.

San was his name.

San.

“Gorgeous.” You hear him mutter as you continue to work the stage, eyes glued onto him with every move— every twirl, every dip, every roll, you make. His eyes are taking note of every detail, every tattoo that lines your arm, down to your hip and thigh. Because he wants to study you, all of you.

“It’s his birthday, give him something special!” You glide down the pole before stepping off the stage to greet the men sitting around. It was a normal routine for you, a way to initiate flirty conversations and take men back to a VIP booth for lap dances— lap dances that could easily earn you rent in one night.

A few of your regulars are sitting around, waiting for some kind of touch, attention. Which, you easily give through running your hand down their chests, whispering sweet nothings as they tuck a few more dollars under your bodysuit.

Throughout all of this, San is still focused on you.

So, you make your way back to him; his friends are still loudly proclaiming he’s the birthday boy that needs a little gift tonight. And lucky for him, you’re feeling rather generous— especially with the way San buckles around you, pleading, begging, for more of your attention since he walked through the door.

“Is it really your birthday?” You crouch in front of him, hands traveling up his thighs while you lick your lips and bite onto your bottom lip.

“Yeah, it is.” He swallows the lump in his throat when your hands brush against his belt.

“Please give him a private dance.” The same friend from earlier says. He has short black hair with a mole underneath his eye, black button-up exposing his honey skin underneath. He slips you a few hundred bills, a smirk plastered on his face when you meet his gaze. You gladly take the money and stuff it into your bodysuit, grabbing San’s hand as you lead him to the VIP area.

“You didn’t have to.”

“You come to a strip club on your birthday and try to deny a lap dance? That your friend paid for? Odd.” You tease as you push him against another velvet couch. The VIP booths are off to the side of the club, with red mood lights and cringy, dark red velvet curtains draping the front to provide privacy. The booths are small, intimate; just enough space for you to work the pole and be all up on San.

“I mean, I just—” He chokes on his words as he plops onto the couch. “You’re a busy woman, it seems.”

“I am.” You straddle his lap. “But, I can make time for birthday boys, too.”

“That’s nice to know.” His eyes carefully watch your every move. Your hands travel down his neck, down to his tie— tugging on it as you start to bodyroll against the music, against him, making sure San feels you. “Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. You watch as he reaches, but prevents himself from touching your thighs; afraid he’d be crossing a line even though, technically speaking, those lines have been blurred since he walked into the club.

“It’s okay, San.” You reassure him with a whisper, lips almost grazing his ear. His eyes meet yours just as you pull back and bounce on him a bit, hands caressing up and down his chest. You continue to work him slowly, taking your sweet time to make San feel appreciated, to make San feel like he’s had the best birthday in years.

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too?

Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual pole routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

“Crimson.” He repeats, the stage name dripping off his tongue like water. “Are you here every night?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” You twirl with a smirk on your face.

“Come on, don’t do that.” He leans back, head resting against the couch as his hands rest on his thighs.

“Why would it matter?”

“I wouldn’t wanna come back if you weren’t here.” You giggle, stepping away from the pole and slotting yourself back in between his legs at a crouch.

“There’s plenty of other amazing dancers, you know? I don’t make the club.”

“You’re right, you don’t. But, it’s not them I’m asking about.” Your hands travel back up his legs, your face inches away from his dick. You swear you hear him hiss a bit the minute your face glides over, planting small, chaste kisses against his clothed stomach right above the belt.

“I’m here 4 days a week.”

“What days?” You stand, bending to whisper in his ear. His hand comes up to graze your thigh and hip, shivers shooting down his spine when you respond with:

“I guess you’ll have to find out.” Because now, San takes it as a challenge and he’s determined to figure out which nights you’re here. Initially, he agreed to this whole thing thinking it’d be a one-and-done— a birthday done differently after all these past years only to become an after-thought as time goes on. But now, he wants more of you, all of you; wants to keep seeing you, feeling you, touching you, seeing you dance for him and him only.

He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

You look at him once more, tipping his chin with your finger before dipping forward. You only give him enough so that the tips of your noses brush against each other, enough to tease but not please the birthday boy on his special night.

“See you soon, Sannie. Happy birthday.” You whisper before turning on your heels and leaving him in the VIP booth to return to the stage. San has to gather himself for a minute, loosening the buttons on his shirt and his tie and adjusting his pants before heading back out to his friends.

“So?! How was it?” Wooyoung leans over on the chair right after he greets another dancer making her rounds across the floor.

“Good.”

“He’s red in the face.” Mingi laughs. “It was more than good.”

“Say thank you for the best birthday ever, Wooyoung.” Wooyoung teases and San can’t help but shake his head. He’s still lost in thought, eyes subtly scanning the room to find you but you are busy taking new customers into the VIP booth. The room feels hot, and he wishes he could be in the VIP booth with you, alone. He truly wished it never ended. “Let’s head to the bar and get more drinks.” San shrugs and follows along, the 4 of them heading into the bar where the music is louder, and other dancers are flooding the area.

As the night goes on, you’ve finished tending to your regulars— already knowing what they want, what they need, but making your boundaries clear every time they try to step over the line and take advantage of your generosity tonight. By the end of your shift, it’s 3am and you’re exhausted. Your feet are hurting from the platform heels you’re sporting. It’s crazy how after all this time as a dancer, you still aren’t used to the heels you have to throw on, excited to dip your feet in a hot, lavender foot bath when you get home. You change back into your casual sweats and matching hoodie, throwing the hood over your head as you bid farewell to your coworkers and step out the back door into the cold, crisp night. When you cross the alley to get onto the main road, there are a few gentlemen standing around, some smoking their cigarettes while chatting with their friends.

Usually, no one causes you trouble. From time to time, your usuals are drunk and babbling nonsense about how they wish they could take you home, show you ‘a new world.’ But, no one ever gets handsy, no one ever forces themselves on you. For the most part, they know what this is, they know at the end of the night this is nothing but a temporary fantasy— one you fulfill for a specific time frame before the new day dawns and things go back to normal, to routine.

Tonight, it’s a bit different.

“Yo, isn’t that the dancer?” You hear a familiar voice as you cross through the alley, passing by a big group on your way. They seem to be tending to a friend who has gotten sloppily drunk, yacking their brains out off to the side of the club.

“Aye cutie, going home already? Wanna give the birthday boy more love?” Another friend questions after he pulls the cigarette from in between his lips and exhales. “Bro, Mingi. Hurry up and get your sloppy ass together. It’s fucking cold.” He scolds their incredibly drunk friend afterwards.

“Hongjoong.” You hear San call for his friend. You do nothing but give them a simple look as you continue to walk on, trying not to feed them any attention. As attractive as San is, you are too tired to deal with this right now. After all, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“What, it’s a simple question. You never know, she might be down.”

“Sorry.” San apologizes on his behalf, his eyes red and glazed from the alcohol.

“Not down?” Hongjoong asks again, his eyes now glued onto you.

“No, I’m not.” You respond, walking backwards to maintain eye contact.

“Aw, why not?” Honey-skin with the black-button up chimes in. “He’s single. He could use it.”

“The fuck? Not helping.” San looks at his friend and taps him on the chest, making him bust out into a loud laugh.

“I don’t do that. Nothing beyond the club. Sorry to disappoint.” You smile at them before walking off onto the main street.

“Can he at least escort you home?!” They call out as you cross the street, making you roll your eyes as you continue the journey home all by yourself.

▹ END

Since then, there’s been a new addition to your regulars. One particularly more intriguing than the rest. You didn’t really believe Mia when she told you the familiar face came on your days off, asking the bartender if you were dancing tonight. He came, and he came, until he figured out the exact 4 days you worked. To say you were surprised would be an understatement because why on earth was San actually looking for you?

Why was he actually trying to figure out your schedule?

Did he really want to see you, or were you just his favorite dancer? Was he too shy to get close to the other dancers [at a strip club]?

It’s been a couple of weeks and San still comes. But, you’ve pushed the questions to the back of your mind; taking his visits with a grain of salt. You weren’t sure you’d pry anyway, afraid you’d be reading into this too much. After all, you are just a dancer.

What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

“Babe, your man is here.” Mia peeks into the dressing room, her head popping in from the doorway.

“He is not my man.” You give her a look, but she giggles and smirks before turning.

“Hurry that ass up, he seems anxious.” She calls out just before she heads back out to the main floor. You roll your eyes, dabbing more lip gloss on your lips before heading back out onto the floor. As promised, San sits in that same chair you met him during his first night at the club while Wooyoung [you’ve come to learn] lingers near the stage. Wooyoung is already entertaining another dancer, taking every opportunity to slip a few bills underneath her bikini top.

To tease San a bit, you come up from behind up, trailing your hands down his chest while your lips ghost his ear. He turns slightly just for some sort of confirmation, though he’s already studied your body— down to the way you move, the way you tease.

“San.” You call his name. “Should I still be surprised that you’re here again?”

“You tell me.” He smirks, that pretty smile of his slowly becoming a weakness for you. “I’m just here to get my fix.” He winks, even though he really just wants to see you and be alone with you again.

“Get in line.” You tease. San immediately holds up a few bills, eyes darting from yours to your cleavage in that incredibly tiny silver bikini top you have on.

“Should I?” He subtly bites onto his bottom lip as he slips the money right into your top. You playfully roll your eyes and lead the way to a VIP booth, San undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves just about halfway up his forearm. Truthfully, yes, it’s been a long day [week, even] and he’s needing a release; wanting to let out some steam. But, he’s also excited he could do that with you and only you. He watches your hips sway as you walk and wait for him to enter the booth, shutting the curtain close so that it’s just you and him underneath the red mood lighting.

You step onto the stage; twirling around the pole before you bounce your ass on the stage. San watches intently, eyes glued to your bottom half when you spread your legs and show him how much those bottoms aren’t doing shit for you.

He is so, so curious.

He takes note of every detail of your body, studying it over and over again like a book. And god, he wants to do everything and nothing all at once— stuck between wanting to get his hands all over you and doing nothing just to admire your pretty face, your figure. San felt like maybe this was just a phase, a new, exciting experience in his life that’ll soon fizzle out.

But when San looks at you, he can’t agree. He’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

He leans back onto the couch, his head resting against the edge as he manspreads. He licks his lips while watching your hands travel down your chest, your stomach.

“Why are you so far?” He questions, motioning for you to come closer. Your bikini top and bottom are still driving him crazy, and he’s certain he’ll lose his shit once you sit on his lap.

“So eager tonight?”

“Just been a rough week.”

“I’m sure, as with everyone else here.”

“Am I just everyone else?” You let out a small chuckle, straddling his lap. His hands immediately come up to cup your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you start to work your hips on him. He’s gotten pretty comfortable by now, though San still shoots you a look as if it’s his way of asking for permission first. You appreciate the little things, and San most definitely isn’t just like everyone else. But, as with any defense mechanism, you resort to a guarded response:

“I mean, you’re here at ungodly hours tipping girls for a dance.” He lets out a small laugh, strong hands now at your hips.

“Mm, I really only come for my favorite though. You might know her?” He jokes, his face only inches away from yours.

“Do I?” You follow along with his teasing. The strap to your bikini top falls off your shoulder and San’s eyes follow; the small room feeling 10 degrees hotter, pants a little tighter.

“Mhm.” He hums, his finger tracing a line up your leg. “She has tattoos just like this lining her thigh—“ He moves it up to your hip. “Up her hip.” His thumb comes up to your lip. “Pretty lips just like that. Long lashes. Prettiest smile I’ve seen.” His face moves towards your neck, lips grazing the surface below your ear. “Mole on the neck.” You subtly bite onto your bottom lip. San’s hand brushes up against your breast before he touches the small mole on your neck.

“Sounds like a lot of the girls around here.”

“Mm, but the one I’m thinking of goes by the stage name Crimson.” You continue to tease, bounce on him a little more, shake ass a little more. Your eyes linger on him a bit longer than you’d like, and you find yourself retracting. To him, the room is probably degrees hotter— for you, it’s starting to feel suffocating.

“She’s nothing but a ‘lil dancer, San.” You whisper in his ear, lips brushing against the surface before you hop off his lap. San is a little confused at the sudden change, but you feel like you’re reading too much into this, too much into San.

This isn’t supposed to be anything but business.

Why would San ever want you in that way? Most of this is to fulfill a want, a need, a fantasy. San is most likely saying this to get what he wants, to take charge and lead you on.

Though, at the end of the night, you are nothing but a face, a dancer. He wouldn’t think about you past the club. That is where this ends, regardless.

You give San one last look before you brush past the curtain, returning to the stage closest to the bar. Wooyoung is getting dragged to a VIP booth, his other friends now standing and gathering around the stage to get up close and personal to the girls currently on there. You make a beeline to the stage near the bar, the area being a little more dead than the main stage room.

Right before you hop on stage, Mia is delivering drinks to a few men off to the side of the room. She shoots you a look, following after handing over the drinks.

“Why are you rushing? Did something happen?” You wait for the bartender to hand you some water.

“Nothing happened.” You sip a bit to shake off your thoughts, your feelings.

“You sure? I’ll beat someone’s ass if you need me to and call security to toss them out.”

“I promise.” You look at her and squeeze her arm. “I’m just gonna stick here for the rest of the night, though. Need a change of pace.” She nods.

“Alright, if you say so. I’m still onto you.” She says, leaving you to help the bartender with delivering the drinks.

For the rest of the night, you continue to dodge San and his friends until the end of your shift. You don’t usually leave through the front doors of the club, but tonight, you sneak out and rush across the street with your hood up. You can hear San and his friends as they leave, causing you to pick up the pace of your steps— hoping you’ll avoid being caught.

But, San sees you, anyway. His eyes can’t help but watch for a few seconds more before he’s returning his attention back to the boys. He felt the shift earlier, and he picked up on the way you continued to hop from stage to stage— seemingly avoiding their group. He’s not sure what happened, or why he feels like you’ve suddenly got your guard back up around him. It’s something about you, and San knows it shouldn’t be that serious. This became a fun little past-time for him and his boys. But every time he’s left the club recently, he leaves a little bit more attached to you.

Because yes, you know how to work your magic in there. It’s no fucking joke. He gets a taste of you on stage, in the booth, and it blows his mind. But other than that, it’s the way you return the same look, the same touch. There’s something else, more to you than the surface, and he’s curious to find out.

It shouldn’t be that serious, but for San, it is.

“What’s wrong?” Jongho pushes a small coffee your way, cocking a brow when he sees how checked out you seem today.

“W-what?” You look at him, finally pulled out of your daze. “Oh, nothing.” You grab the cup and take a sip, giving him a tiny toothless smile of appreciation. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He sets his coffee onto the side of the cart, helping you unbox a few albums that arrived today and needed to be restocked on the shelves. “So, really. What is it?” He asks, eyes still focused on restocking. Jongho has been one of your closest friends— probably the only closest, genuine friend that stuck by your side since you were younger. He still keeps in touch with the group you grew up with since middle school, but lots of those relationships have been severed after you started dancing at the club. Jongho was the only one who didn’t see you any differently, nor did he take the job as anything bad. He always knew you were passionate about dance and he understood you when times got tough; strapped on cash and needing a quick fix that would help you get by. It was a bit of a risky, somewhat dangerous step, but who was Jongho to control your life? You already didn’t have a great relationship with your parents, so the least Jongho can do is support you and be your pillar if no one else would be. He knew you could make your own decisions, and only you knew yourself best. He knew you’d take care of yourself, whatever that looked like.

Jongho was the manager at this small, quaint music shop in the city. Though, the city you lived in wasn’t entirely huge compared to others. It still had its old-school touch of wooden, soft decor with a rage of vintage to mainstream albums and art throughout the shop. The owner was a middle-aged man who used to play in a band back in the days, now retired and trying to stay in touch with his roots through the shop. Jongho had worked here for years before stepping into the full-time manager position and helped bring you on, especially during the time you needed it the most.

You really appreciate Jongho, and you’re glad you at least have him.

“Sometimes, I feel like I should’ve just finished school.”

“You did. High school?”

“College.” Jongho shrugs when you respond and give him a look.

“If it wasn’t what you wanted to do at the time, then why force yourself? Besides, it’s never too late. You can always go back to school.” He turns to you and places a hand on his hip. “Why are you thinking about this all of a sudden?”

“I don’t really know. What if they were right? What if I’m not good for anything besides being a stripper? What if I’m just that?”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Jongho tosses the empty box aside, triggering you to get it together and start doing your job. “You’re smart, talented, and passionate about a lot of things. Especially dance. Just because you work at a club doesn’t make you less of a person, Y/N.” He says in that usual serious tone of his.

“Thanks.” You poke your bottom lip out as you arrange the albums and start tagging the price stickers onto them.

“Who is it?” You sigh, already knowing Jongho won’t leave it alone until you finally tell him the truth about why you’re suddenly questioning your life.

“It’s the same guy I told you about. The birthday boy.” Jongho does a tiny nod of acknowledgement.

“He’s still showing up with his friends?”

“Yeah, surprisingly. And he always looks for me. Asks for me. Doesn’t pay attention to any other dancer there.”

“Maybe he has a crush on you.”

“We know nothing about each other. He knows my stage name, he knows my club persona.” You sigh. “That’s why it made me question life. It’s dumb, I know.” You purse your lips together as you shove the albums into the shelf and move onto the next task.

“Well, there has to be a reason why he keeps coming back for you and only you. Maybe he wants to know you, outside of the club and that whole persona thing.” Jongho shrugs. “Never say never.”

“He’s a businessman of some sort. Suited up all the time. He must work for a really good company. Probably has a family that is well off.” You shake your head and make your way back to the front. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“I wouldn’t say that. Why don’t you ask—“ At this point, just as you settle at the register with Jongho, a few people enter the shop. You whip your head towards the entrance when you hear some laughter, only for your eyes to widen.

“Oh, shit. Jongho!” You whisper harshly. “What the hell is he doing here?!” He looks over your shoulder as San and Wooyoung walk in, Wooyoung instantly making a turn to head to the vinyl collection.

“Is that birthday boy?” You nod with a worried expression on your face. San is about to walk past the register when he furrows his brows at the small commotion happening behind the counter, turning his attention towards you and Jongho.

“Too late dude, he’s right there.” Jongho blocks you from leaving. “It’d be too obvious now, just take it like a fucking champ and say hi.” He says through gritted teeth. “I gotta walk around anyways.” He turns to San enthusiastically. “Hey, welcome in.”

“Hey.” San looks at the both of you, his brows still furrowed when his eyes land on your face.

“Hi. Let me know if you need help.” You try to scurry off, but San stops you.

“Woah, wait. You’re—“

“Don’t say it outloud here.” San’s lips form into the shape of an ‘o’ before nodding. He can’t help but glaze over your features and how naturally beautiful you are– the sun hitting your skin perfectly. You never packed on the makeup heavily on stage, but you did still have a face on every time you worked at the club. He subtly nibbles onto his bottom lip, hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.

“You work here, too?”

“Makes up for the days I’m not there.” He nods.

“Well, hi.” He gives you a small smile.

“Hi.” You tilt your head. “I’ve never seen you around this part of the city. Ever.” He snorts a bit.

“We’re never usually on the outskirts, but Wooyoung was adamant about getting vinyls for his new record player. You guys are the only shop that has a good collection.” You nod, San stepping aside when a customer unloads their basket onto the counter. He lingers around, watching how delicate you are handling the merchandise and how big your smile is when helping the customer. As expected, you’re very different from the club— you seem more relaxed, laid back. Sweet. Happy.

“So, are you just gonna stand there and wait for Wooyoung?” You chuckle after wrapping up the transaction and handing the customer their bag, bidding farewell as they head out of the store.

“I don’t really need anything so, yeah. I guess so. I’d rather talk to you, anyway.” You give him a look and take the sticker gun in your hand, walking away from the counter when a coworker comes back from break to relieve you.

“I’m working.” You head back to the floor, San following behind.

“I know.” He watches as you begin to sort through another shipment. “Are you gonna tell me your name now that we’re outside of the club?”

“Why do you wanna learn my name so badly? And why are you always at the club? Don’t you have like.. other things to do? A girlfriend or someone to entertain?” You shiver at the thought. God, you hope not. Especially with how he’s been lately. But, men are trash and you wouldn’t expect any less.

“Because I do? You’re not just someone from the club.” You look at him briefly before looking back down at the stack of albums. “And no, I don’t have someone to entertain. I wouldn’t be there often if I did.” Touché. “We just had fun on my birthday. It’s a good way to let out some steam after busy days.”

“Hm.” You hum.

“I like seeing you there.” He casually says, making you pause in your actions before continuing.

“I don’t make the club, San.”

“You make it for me. Or else I wouldn’t be going.” You look at him again with a hand on your hip. He has a small smirk plastered on his face and you can’t help but notice how attractive he looks under the daylight— smooth honey skin, hoodie over his head, soft black hair teasing his forehead. Your eyes linger on him for a lot longer than you’d like, having to force yourself to snap out of it when you realize [again] that San wouldn’t want you in that way.

“What are you trying to do here?” You cock a brow up just before you start working on the CDs in front of you, marking them down and adding new price tags to the back.

“Get to know you.”

“Why me?”

“Why not you?” San continues to smirk, leaning against the shelves.

“Y/N, take your break in a few minutes.” Jongho says coming down the aisle before giving San a small, pursed smile.

“Yeah, Y/N.” San chimes in and teases. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“You ready? I found what I needed—“ Wooyoung comes from around the corner, pausing mid-sentence when he realizes San isn’t alone. “Oh, hey! I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Your eyes dart to Wooyoung and he smiles. “Wow, you’re really pretty in the daylight—“ San taps him on the chest. “What, I’m just saying! It’s hard to really see faces in the club lighting. Besides, I don’t get the privilege of having private—“

“Okay, that’s—yeah.” San cuts him off and scratches at his head. “Really sorry.”

“You ready?” You let out a sigh before asking Wooyoung. “I can ring you up at the other register before I head to break.”

“Yeah.” You lead them to the smaller checkout stand at the end of the aisle, scanning Wooyoung’s items and bagging up his things as he pays. Throughout the entire time, San is still watching you; subtly biting onto his bottom lip when he can’t help but think of the nights at the club, being intimately close with you— seeing you in a different light than this.

Which, he’s trying not to. He just can’t help it. You are beauty in its purest form, and he wishes he could know more about you.

And you don’t fail to notice.

The look San has in his eyes is different from what you’re used to seeing at nighttime. It makes you nervous from the butterflies you feel, the curiosity running through your veins— even if the other thoughts in your mind say otherwise.

“Guess we’ll see you around?” Wooyoung smirks before walking out of the shop first.

“See you soon, Y/N.” Just before San walks out, you shut off the part of your brain that keeps spewing negativity and all these other ‘what if’s.’

“W-wait.”

“Hm?” He hums, his hands in his pocket as he cocks a brow up. You begin to scribble your number down on a random receipt that was left behind, pushing it over to San shortly afterwards.

“Don’t ask for free dances or anything though, I’ll block you.” San chuckles before grabbing the receipt and tucking it into his pocket.

“Don’t want that, now do we?” He winks before stepping out of the shop.

“Cute.” You glare at Jongho and hit him on the arm. “Ouch, what!”

“Why would you say my name around him!”

“You act like he wasn’t gonna find out one way or another, the dude definitely has googly eyes over you.” He crosses his arms and smirks. “Besides, you slipped him your number.”

“Ugh.” You continue to glare at him. “I’m going on my break.”

“So you can text San, hm?” You mouth out a quick ‘fuck off’ before turning on your heel and heading to the break room. The entire scenario hadn't been processed in your mind until now, unsure if giving your number to San was a good idea or not.

You didn’t wanna get attached to him. Not him, of all people. Though, you know you will, and that’s why it feels like a bad decision.

A decision you think you might regret.

The thought blows over when you get home that night, exhausted from your work day and the commute. You hop in the shower and whip up a teriyaki chicken rice bowl with some veggies. You plop onto your couch and turn on the TV, picking up on where you left off on the last episode of the series you were watching. Barely 7 minutes in, a call comes through on your phone, your eyes widening at the name flashing across the screen. Just as you briefly debate on answering the call, your hands are already moving towards the phone; swiping right to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey.” San says on the other line so nonchalantly, as if you two had been talking for years.

“Hi?” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. “What made you call?”

“I just wanted to talk to you and ask how the rest of your day at work went.”

“Oh.” You shrug as if he can see you. “It was alright. Nothing too bad.”

“Yeah? Nobody get on your nerve throughout the day?”

“I also work at a strip club. I think the music shop is very mild when it comes to that.” You joke, making San laugh a bit on the other line. “How was the rest of yours?”

“Good. Wooyoung and I just grabbed something to eat before he brought me home.”

“Where’s home for you?”

“Probably 20 minutes away from the city.” He responds just as you hear dishes clinking in the background. “Did you eat already?”

“I am right now.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Do you want me to call you later? Or, I guess, I can just text you?”

“It’s okay, San. I don’t mind.”

“Mmkay. Just checking.”

“I know you just saw Wooyoung, but you guys aren’t hanging out with the rest of your friends tonight?”

“Believe it or not, we like taking breaks from each other.” He laughs a bit. “No but, Mingi, the really tall one, has a date or whatever tonight.”

“Or whatever?” You laugh.

“He’s weird about these things. Says it’s a date when we all know he’s not really ready to date seriously.”

“Mm, one of those guys. You like that, too?”

“Definitely not. If I really like someone and we hit it off, I’ll pursue them to no end.”

“Mhm.” You find yourself teasing him more. “Cute. Have you guys known each other for long?”

“Me and Wooyoung grew up together. Our parents are close, too. We met Hongjoong and Mingi in college.”

“That’s sweet.”

“What about you, Y/N? What about your friends? Tell me more about yourself. I meant it when I said I wanna get to know you.” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, even though every bone in your body is telling you to continue keeping your guard up.

“Ah, did you? Cause it definitely sounded like a line.” You snort.

“It’s not just a line. Seriously.”

“I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I don’t have an interesting story.” You poke at your food before taking a small bite.

“Don’t say that. I find you interesting no matter what.”

“You say that now.”

“I’ll say it later, too.” He reassures you.

“I– I don’t know. I’m not close to my family after the decisions I’ve made, and friends left my side especially after I started working at the club more. Jongho is really the only person who has stayed by my side since we were younger.”

“I’m sorry. Why aren’t they your friends anymore?”

“I guess they just think I’m dumb for not going to school and for settling at the club.”

“I mean, that’s not really fair? It’s not dumb if it wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Yeah, well. They didn’t think I’d take dance that seriously.”

“You’re really good at it.” You chuckle hearing his response. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Wish I could tell you. My family is in the same boat. My older sister graduated from college and started her own lab after finishing her postdoctoral appointment. Imagine how much my family looks down on me. I struggled for awhile and Jongho helped me out a lot.”

“I’m glad you at least have him.”

“I am too.”

“What else do you like to do?”

“San, are you sure you don’t have anything else to do tonight?” He laughs. “What about your family?”

“Swear. My family is fine, they’re doing their own thing.”

“Do they live around here too?”

“Nope, maybe an hour or so away? I have an older sister too, but she’s overseas right now. She’s in the fashion industry.” He lets out a small sigh. “I genuinely wanted to call you and talk to you after seeing you today.”

“You’re such a mystery.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. You just are. I see you at the club a couple of times, then I see you at the shop. Now we’re on the phone. It’s just funny how things play out.”

“Nothing mysterious about it. Maybe it’s just meant to play out that way.”

“What’s meant to play out that way?”

“Us.” You pause. Mainly because you couldn’t believe this is how things were meant to play out with San. Why was he everywhere and nowhere at the same time? Why was he calling you and trying to get to know you? And what if it was meant to play out this way? It could either mean two things— one, San was meant to play some sort of good in your life.

Or two, San was meant to break your heart and teach you yet another lesson in this crazy universe.

You weren’t sure what to think of it all, if you were even ready to figure out what all of this meant.

But, at this moment in time, all the regrets and thoughts continue to brush over your head because you like hearing San’s voice and you like talking to him outside of the club. You are intrigued, and you can’t say you aren’t keen on finding out what this is.

So, you continue to talk to San. 30 minutes turns into an hour; slipping into bed with San still on the other line. It’s easy to talk to him and you like that he initiates most of the conversation. He doesn’t judge you and he doesn’t pressure you into talking about things you don’t feel comfortable diving into right now. He doesn’t put the focus on himself much and he listens. You find yourself giggling, tossing and turning under the sheets— thoughts exploring uncharted territories.

San almost feels like a bad decision; a decision you think you might regret.

For tonight, you’ll take it. You’ll take this for what it is, and you’ll take San for who he is. You’ll find out what his role is in your life and why this is playing out the way it is for the both of you.

Maybe he is good.

Maybe he is a heartbreaker.

Or maybe San is meant to be San, a passing moment in your life that eventually just ends.

Whatever it is, you’ll figure it out. Even if it's something you might regret later on.

“Can I tell you something Y/N?” He asks just as you feel the exhaustion hitting your body.

“Mhm?”

“You’re really beautiful. I like seeing you, especially on stage. You know how to drive people crazy.”

San continues to text and call you, just to ask if you’re doing okay— to let you know he always looks forward to seeing you. Small smiley faces, goodmorning’s and goodnight’s, dropping by with food or just to say hi at the music shop; you can’t help but feel the butterflies in your tummy grow when it comes to San.

You’re not sure if you despise it or not.

Jongho says you should just see where it goes and tries to reassure you by telling you what’s meant to be, will be, and that you shouldn’t read too much into things right now.

Keep doing you as you have, and continue to move forward.

But, it’s a lot easier said than done. Especially when you don’t understand what San wants out of you. He’s respected your boundaries through text, not asking for free dances or nudes, only keeping it brief to check in on you sometimes. Yet, at the club, he’s handsy. He’s vocalized how much he wants you and how much he wishes he could know more about you outside of the club.

San is an enigma.

You count in your head as you slowly take steps forward on stage, trying your hardest not to get distracted.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Fall into the splits.

Five, six.

Bounce.

You get back onto your fours, shaking ass for the men lined up near the stage constantly tossing bills your way and shoving it under the ties of your bikini bottoms. It isn’t long before the main stage is where the most activity is happening— the club incredibly busy tonight with tons of celebrations. You’ve just stepped out of a VIP booth, your client paying you more than you could ask for by simply requesting if you could just work the pole for him. You gladly oblige, making it one less man to give a lap dance to before your shift is over.

Besides, you can’t help but think of San.

And the moment you start to think about him, is the exact moment you find him lingering in the club with his boys— eyes scanning the stage and room before they finally find you near the VIP booths. It’s been a minute since they’ve stopped by. San has mentioned that he and his friends have just been swamped at work and that he can’t wait to let some steam out soon. He’s in all black tonight; black fitted slacks, boots, a black-button up with his chest partially exposed. He’s got a silver chain around his neck, and god, does the sight immediately do things to you.

They order a round of drinks before San finds himself at one of the seats next to the stage. He’s entertaining the crowd a bit, joining in when your coworker steals the stage and grabs the attention from the men around you. You don’t mind because it gives you the opportunity to slip away and take a breather, maybe run for a quick water break before you sway your hips in San’s direction.

And sure enough, he’s been waiting. Like he always is.

Just as you sweet talk your way through the crowd and grab a few extra tips for it, San gently wraps his hand around your wrist and pulls you onto his lap. He smirks at you, eyes glazed over from all the alcohol he’s already downed.

“Mm, I’ve been waiting.” He says. “Can I have you?” The question sends shivers down your spine, his touch against your hip electrifying.

“Depends.” You tease as he slips a few bills into your bra. “Can you handle it tonight? You’re pretty drunk.”

“Can always handle you, babygirl.” He says in your ear. You instantly stand to your feet and grab his hand, leading him to one of the free VIP booths. As soon as you pull the curtains close and try to work your way over to the pole, San pulls you back onto his lap— hands caressing your sides as you fix your position and properly straddle him. “Need you here, not there.”

“Thought you liked watching me work the pole.”

“I do, but not as much as I like watching you on me.”

“You’re incredibly suave tonight, what’s gotten into you?” You giggle, feeling San’s hands grope your ass.

“Just missed you.”

“We’ve been talking quite a bit.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as seeing you.”

“You just missed the club.”

“Nah. You.” He corrects you. Something about San is different tonight, but you can’t say you dislike it. He’s a little more straightforward, a little more bolder, a little more open about his want— his need— for you. Especially when he caresses your tits; palm gently gliding over before giving your nipples a good pinch. Especially when his lips ghost over your neck, jaw, finally finding its way to your ear. Especially when he whispers about how pretty you look and how he wishes he could kiss you.

“Who said you couldn’t?” He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you, before taking his hand to your cheek and bringing you down to his lips. The way your lips crash is intense, full of lust.

Want.

Need.

A craving to be fulfilled.

The kiss easily turns wet, sloppy; San’s hands digging half crescents into your hips as he guides you to work your hips against him. He lets out a shaky breath in between, lips now traveling down to your jaw, neck.

“Fuck.” You hear him groan against your skin, right before his tongue glides against the surface; nibbling and sucking gently to soothe the mark.

“San.” You call his name as he continues down to the base of your neck, collarbone— lips now pressed against your inner breast. Part of you feels so, so good in San’s arms. But the other half feels so incredibly conflicted about the whole situation solely because San is an enigma. You aren’t sure if it’s enough to sway you away. Reality hits when the crowd outside roars in cheers, pulling you away from the sweet daydream, the sweet fog that temporarily clouded your vision. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you gently pry him away and push him back. “San.” You repeat.

“Yeah?”

“We shouldn’t.” He licks his lips, eyes still glued onto yours. Surprisingly, he doesn’t fight back, no. Instead, he kisses you one last time— lips locked until one of you pulls away first. You hop off his lap and walk off towards the curtain, giving him one last look before leaving him alone. “See you out there, okay?” Is all you manage to say. San knows better than to do this here, of all places, but he can’t seem to help himself. He’s stuck on you, has this pull to you, and he wants it all. He doesn’t fight though, because he should be doing better. This probably looks all wrong and confusing to you and he doesn’t mean to do that. He’s just no good at this, no good at approaching you— you, so sexy and so independent.

It’s something about you, and he’s losing his mind.

“Shoot your fucking shot already.” Hongjoong comes around the corner from the bathroom, running into San as he exits the VIP booth.

“What?” He asks, still a bit discombobulated after the short but intense session in the booth.

“Your girl.”

“She’s not my girl.”

“Shut up.” He says, forehead furrowed. “We come to the club and all you do is look for her. Can’t tell me there isn’t anything more to it.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just do it. What do you have to lose? You’re not getting any younger.” Hongjoong snickers, but it quickly fades when San’s expression hasn’t changed. “You’re just trying to fuck, right?” San finally meets his eyes but he doesn’t say anything, and it kinda freaks Hongjoong out. “What the fuck, San?”

“What?”

“You actually like her? You can’t be serious. I thought it was just a one time thing–”

“What the fuck does it matter?” San lets out a small chuckle to play off the whole thing, but frankly, he’s trying his hardest to not let Hongjoong ruin his mood. “Look, I’m not trying to think about this here. Ready?” He nods towards the bar, finding Mingi and Wooyoung amongst the crowd.

For the rest of the night, you do what you do best— deflect and avoid. You’re not sure how long you can keep doing this around San, especially every time you have an encounter with him. You start questioning yourself so much that it gets to you, that the reality of the situation starts dawning on you even though you have no foundation to back things up. But, you’d like to think that you haven’t fallen too deep; you could still swim up to the surface if you needed to, and you’d like to keep it that way.

However, that feels like a far reach when your shift ends. You feel like you’ve escaped for the umpteenth time until you realize you really haven’t, and that maybe, San was always going to be an enigma you were meant to figure out.

“Y/N.” You hear a familiar voice call for you as you walk down the street. You’re still walking at a steady pace, but the steps behind you seem to be catching up fairly quickly. “Y/N—” You turn and place your hand over his mouth, making San furrow his brows at you.

“We’re still nearby. I’d like it if you didn’t go yelling my name around like that.” He chuckles as you let him go, continuing your walk home.

“Some people should know your name by now, right?”

“And the majority that don’t?” You look at him. “Let’s keep it that way.”

“Sorry, beautiful.” You playfully roll your eyes, trying to keep your guard up.

“What’re you doing, San?”

“Walking you home.”

“What about your friends?” You pause in your steps, creating enough distance between you and the club by now.

“They can handle their own.” He shrugs. “Let me walk you.”

“Then, what?”

“Then at least I know you’re safe and sound.” You let out a breath before continuing to walk with San. You aren’t gonna lie— having San’s company makes you feel ten times safer, and you feel comfortable having him alongside you. Usually, you rush your walk just to get home in one piece. Tonight, you can finally enjoy the crisp, night time air for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can finally enjoy the stars for a bit longer.

Tonight, you can enjoy San for a bit longer.

“San?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you get tired of going to the club?” He shakes his head and laughs.

“Not really. It’s kinda fun. Beats going to a regular club.”

“Can I ask?” He nods. “What do you do for work?”

“I just work for a tech company in their finance department.”

“Interesting.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t know tech guys liked strip clubs so much.”

“Change of scenery.” You chuckle, easing up a bit in San’s company. “Is this your usual walk home?”

“Mhm. It’s not so bad.”

“Yeah, but it’s also like.. 3am.” San looks down at you. “Why don’t you just take an Uber home or something?”

“Why, when it’s within walking distance?”

“Safety reasons. You don’t feel scared?”

“Not really. I’ve done this walk for years now.”

“Why don’t I just bring you home from now on?” You laugh.

“Even if you don’t go to the club?”

“Especially when I don’t go to the club.”

“That’s too much work. I can’t ask you to do that. Plus, you work a regular 9-5 I’m assuming.”

“But, I’m offering? I don’t really trickle in right at 9 for work, as long as I make my 8 or so hours for the day. Plus, I can work from home sometimes.” You don’t say anything, so he quickly follows up with: “I know the walk is close, but it makes me feel weird about letting you be out here this late after work.”

“Hm.” You look at him.

“Let me.”

“Hey, just so we remember this— you offered and put that out on the table. Not me.” He laughs.

“Got it, your honor.”

“Are you not cold?”

“No. The cold is helping a lot right now.”

“How drunk were you today?”

“Pretty drunk.” He laughs. “It’s been a very long couple of weeks. I probably sound like a broken record but there’s no better way to put it. Lots of deadlines to meet with little time to prep.”

“Ah, the surprise deadlines. I’m sure it went fine, right?”

“Yeah, sure. After all the stress they put me through first.” San snorts.

“It’s done now. You made it.” You turn the corner and continue to walk down the path until you reach your building— a small, quaint building in the middle of the residential area. You lead San to your door at the far right corner of the building. “Welp, this is me.” You turn to look at him and he gives you a tiny, toothless smile.

“Cute.” You awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, feeling bad about turning San away. A part of you genuinely wants his company outside of the club and he seems to want the same, too.

“D-do you wanna come in, by any chance?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.”

“I am.” You turn to unlock the door. “Sorry if it’s super small and not aesthetically pleasing to look at.”

“Y/N, don’t apologize.” He steps in and steps out of his shoes, eyes wandering around your tiny studio. “It’s nice. I like the plants.” He eyes the plants near the shelf that blocks off your bed from the couch, TV and ‘living room’ area.

“Thanks. I try to take really good care of them.” He chuckles as he plops onto the couch.

“It’s a cozy space. It’s perfect for you, no?”

“I like it. I’ve been here for the past year and a half or so? Jongho’s aunt is the landlord and he did a lot to convince her to let me have this place for decent rent.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah. He was probably tired of me.” You grab two water bottles from your fridge. “I lived with him for a long time. We shared rooms.”

“He’s a really good friend.”

“He is.” You stand near him and hand him the water bottle. “Make yourself at home, I’m just gonna take a quick shower.”

“Can I join?”

“Do you wanna be tossed out?” He laughs.

“Kidding.” He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his social media. “I’ll wait patiently.” You grab your shirt and shorts before running into the bathroom to take a quick body shower, excited to rinse off the night from your skin. It only takes you about 15 minutes to fully get ready for bed, San still waiting patiently on your couch. His eyes shift from his screen to you—

Slowly ogling your body,

Down to your legs.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.” You plop next to him, watching as he lets his head rest on the back of the couch. “Tired?”

“Yeah.”

“You should go home and get rest.”

“Do you want me to go home?” He looks at you and you aren’t really sure how to answer the question. Yes, you do, so San can rest.

But no, you don’t, because you like having him here.

You can’t help but remember the events that transpired earlier at the club and what it would feel like to have his lips on you again—

“No, not really.”

“Good, cause I wanna keep you company for a little longer.”

“San?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“When you kissed me earlier—” You lick your lips and swallow the lump in your throat. “Did you kiss me because you were drunk at the club, or because you genuinely wanted to?”

“I told you I really wanted to.” You sit and look at him, unsure of how you feel about his response. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know, San. I can’t read you.”

“You don’t have to.” He sits up, his face only inches away from yours. “It’s okay to tell me you don’t believe me, Y/N. I’d rather you be honest than not.”

“Then, no. I don’t.” He lets out a tiny, breathy laugh, a small smirk perked up on the corner of his lips.

“Fair enough.” He says lowly, eyes scanning your lips, your face and all its features. “Then, will you give me another chance to show you so you do believe me?” His thumb gently caresses your chin before grazing over your bottom lip. “Hm?” He hums. You nod, giving him leverage to dip down further, lips locked with yours for another soft, passionate kiss. It quickly deepens when San slips his tongue in; his fighting for dominance against yours. You find yourself hurrying to position yourself onto his lap, hands grabbing at his shirt. He gently nibbles on your jaw before making his way back down to your neck, no longer hesitating to suck on certain spots to leave his mark. His hands make their way up your shirt, palming at your tits while you fiddle with the buttons of his shirt. “Let’s get this off, baby.” The petname sends shivers down your spine, making you easily oblige to his request.

You shed off his shirt just as he tosses yours to the side, mouth instantly latching onto your perked bud. His tongue moves in a circular motion, pulling back with a pop before moving onto the next. You let out a moan when he flicks around your nipple, sucking gently before trailing his lips a bit further down.

“Hold onto me. Need you on the bed.” He huskily says as you wrap your arms and legs around him, San’s hands coming down to grip your ass. He takes you to your bed, wasting no time to get rid of the rest of the clothing sitting on your bodies. Everything feels so intimately rushed with San because there’s so much desire, so many thoughts and cravings to be fulfilled. He continues to kiss you, slipping two digits into you to test the waters— to see how wet you are, how tight you are. “Jesus.” He mumbles against your lips.

You are dripping.

“Sannie.” The nickname accidently slips from your lips again, making him smile against you.

“So cute when you say my name like that.” He lets out a breath. “You’re so wet for me. Think you can take me now?” He’s pumping himself and the sight makes you drool. He’s perfectly built— toned abs and biceps, skin dipped in honey, a perfectly thick cock. You nod, eager to get a taste of San, eager to see what he’ll do to you.

“Need you.”

“Oh, you do?” He has that smug smirk on his face just as positions himself at your entrance. “Shit, I don’t have a condom—”

“Here.” You quickly dig through your nightstand and grab a condom you got last week. Dude who tipped you off thought he was slick by throwing a condom in there, thinking he could get some.

At least it came in handy to your liking.

San quickly rips the packet open, throwing the condom on before lowering himself back down onto you. You let out a broken moan when he slips himself in, slowly burying himself to the hilt. His breath is hot against your neck, the both of you releasing shaky exhales while you get used to the feeling. He begins to rock his hips at a slow, steady pace; mumbling curses against your skin as he adjusts to your walls sucking him in.

“God, you feel so good— fuck, Y/N. You’re so hot.” He grunts, his thoughts running wild about seeing you at the club, getting his lap dances.

To this.

Everything about you drives San wild and he’s not even sure how he can explain the feeling. So sexy, so independent; attitude on na-na while worrying about yourself and yourself only.

San starts to fuck you faster, hips pounding against you and echoing in the studio. You’re both probably a bit too loud for your neighbors right now, but you truly could care less. San was driving himself into you at a delicious pace, hitting you in all the right spots.

“San.” You call his name, hands tugging at the hair sitting on the nape of his neck. “Like that— like that.” You whimper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sits up to pound against you at a different angle, hands at your thighs to spread you completely open. He loves seeing the way your slickness coats his cock, his head tilting back in immense pleasure. “Wanna cum for me, pretty girl? Wanna cum all over this dick? So good for me.” He praises, and praises, thumb coming down to work your clit.

“Oh, god.” You moan, hands gripping at the sheets as you feel yourself tipping over the edge the more San fucks into you, the more he rubs at your clit, the more your hips match his movements. You have never been this turned on by someone— at least, not in a very long time. San is so, so attractive. He is suave, and he knows what he’s doing with you. “So close.” San continues to praise you, telling you how beautiful you look underneath him.

How pretty you are.

How badly he wants you.

How you always drive him crazy.

And if it wasn’t for the constant praising, if it wasn’t for the way his hips worked so well against yours, if it wasn’t for the way San was skillfully rubbing at your clit— you wouldn’t be close to unraveling so quickly.

“San, I’m—“ You barely make out before you come undone beneath him, mouth slacked open as a silent moan leaves your lips; body trembling in his grip. This gives him momentum to drive his hips into you faster, harder; uncoiling shortly afterwards.

“Shit, Y/N. Feels too good.” San groans, unloading into the condom. His hands tightly grip your thighs as he gives it one, two more thrusts before coming back down from his high.

Everything feels so beautiful, yet intimately rushed. So, so good yet equally so, so bad for you.

Before you can even say anything, San lowers himself to give you a kiss on the lips. He kisses you for awhile before slipping himself out and grabbing a napkin to wrap the condom in. He quietly takes another few napkins to help clean up, wiping you gently before moving onto himself and plopping onto your bed next to you.

“You okay?” He asks, eyes closed as he regulates his breathing.

“Mhm.”

“Good?”

“Maybe.” He chuckles at your response, pulling you into his arms while you pull the sheets over the both of you. “Definitely worn out, though.”

“Yeah, same.” He kisses the top of your head. “Mind if I crash here for a bit? I don’t mind leaving too, if it makes you uncomfortable. Just let me know.”

“No, you’re good. I don’t mind, San.”

“Was hoping you’d say that.” You chuckle, adjusting your position to comfortably lay on San and fall asleep on his chest.

This is when you start to regret ever giving San the attention, your number, everything.

Because now that you know him a little more, San has become your kryptonite.

After that night, you woke up to an empty bedside— almost no signs of San entirely in your studio. Though it made your heart clench a little bit, part of you knew you wouldn’t be waking up to him.

For work, for other reasons.

Other reasons being that maybe, he really just did want you the one time. And the thought lingered for a little longer when he took awhile to text you that day, your mind running through all the worst possible scenarios during the hours.

▹ FLASHBACK

You slept like a baby after what felt like years, warmth of the sheets still engulfing you as your eyes flutter open. The sun leaves a trail down your sheets, everything quiet; still. When you turn, you find that San is gone— the dip on that side of the bed long gone, his clothes gone, waterbottle gone.

It was like he was never here in the first place.

Your clothes are set neatly off on the edge of the bed instead of the floor. And god, it feels kinda lonely without San. It’s your first telltale sign of attachment, though you know you shouldn’t be at that point after one intimate night with him.

But, it’s hard.

You check your phone and there aren’t any new texts besides Jongho and his need to send you random Instagram reels or TikToks. You lay in bed for a bit longer, letting out a soft sigh when you catch yourself wondering about San in that way. You shut your eyes for a little more, hoping you’ll be able to shake off the ‘what if’s’ with a couple of more hours of sleep.

Meanwhile, San tiredly walks into the office a bit past 10am, hopping straight into his first meeting of the day. It lasts an hour before he’s finally able to walk to the kitchen to grab his first [and much needed] cup of coffee.

“What the fuck happened to you last night, Mr. Suave?” Wooyoung comes beside him, waiting to get his cup of coffee refilled.

“I walked Y/N home.” San smirks.

“Yeah, obviously.” Wooyoung slightly glares at him. “You’re not slick, dumbass. You fucked, didn’t you?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Wow, I’m your bestfriend and you’re asking me that question?” Wooyoung lets out a little ‘pfft’ before playfully shoving San aside to finally get his refill. “I’ll take that as a yes. What’s the deal with you and Miss Crimson, anyway?”

“I like seeing her.” San shrugs. “I like her company.”

“You barely know her outside of the strip club.”

“I believe that’s the point of getting to know her.” San says in a very matter-of-a-fact tone.

“Dude, I didn’t think you’d actually go for her.” San raises his brow.

“Why is everyone saying that? What’s so wrong about it?”

“Nothing! I really just thought you were trying toot it and boot it.”

“Hm.” All San can do is hum while he stirs the stirrer around in his cup.

“But what about Noelle? You guys have that weird, toxic ex relationship thingy going on.” Wooyoung almost visibly shudders at the thought of their complicated relationship. So much back and forth, lying, getting in each other’s beds just to fulfill a need even though they don’t mean it for shit.

Yeah, toxic.

“Yeah, no. I’m done with that.”

“Mm, but you’ve said that before. You mean it? Like you’re actually over her because you genuinely like Y/N? Or, you’re done with it until you cave again?”

“I’m done with it.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Wooyoung takes a sip of his coffee. “I saw her texting you again.”

“I’m trying to tell her it’s done with.”

“Don’t see the urgency though, Mr. I-like-Y/N-and-I-enjoy-her-company. Out here breaking hearts in true Choi San fashion.”

“Don’t say shit like that.”

“Okay.” Wooyoung laughs, leaving him in the kitchen. San sighs to himself, a little tired, stressed even, about the whole Noelle situation. Truthfully, Wooyoung is right. Him and Noelle have too much history, too much baggage. Too much of that toxic shit. San is partially to blame because he does crawl back to her, he does cave pretty easily. And it’s not even because San wants to get back with her, no. He knows they can’t work out. All they do is bring out the worst in each other.

But, Noelle is the only thing he’s known for awhile. She fills his void pretty well because it’s familiar territory.

He’s done with it, though. He swears. He’s confused and not entirely sure where he sees this going right now, but you are intriguing. He sees you and his curiosity skyrockets. He wants to know more about you, and after last night, he feels like he can’t get enough of you. He wants more, and he’ll continue to show you that.

▹ END

“Yo.” Jongho’s eyes are barely peeking over the screen on the FaceTime call.

“What’s up?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just hanging out. Eating some lunch.” You continue to poke at the salad you made. “How’s work?”

“Good, I guess. I’m grabbing some food right now from the shop down the street. How’s loverboy been?”

“Would you stop calling him that?”

“Well, what else is he, Y/N?” Jongho laughs a bit.

“Not my loverboy.”

“Says you even though he drops by to bring you food and calls you nonstop.”

“He doesn’t call me nonstop.”

“Sorry, once a day.” He gives you a look. “Have you seen him lately?”

“No. He went to the club once last week. Said he’s been busy again with work. I feel like it’s something else, though.”

“Mmm.” Jongho hums. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m not.”

“I can hear you from here. What is it?”

“He’s just been kinda weird lately.”

“Distant?”

“Yeah. Maybe it is just work.”

“He’s probably just got way too much on his plate.”

“I shouldn’t even be thinking about it like this too much.” You finish up your salad. “It’s fine. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Mm, okay. Well. Are you doing your usual shift at the club later?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s it been? Wanna hang out tomorrow before your shift?” He slightly pushes the phone away after placing his order and paying at the cashier.

“It’s the same old.” You sigh. “I’m down for that though.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you.”

“Jongho.”

“Yeah?”

“Seeing San makes me question myself. I don’t know if that’s good or not.”

“In what way?”

“I just feel ashamed. It makes me wanna look for a different job and leave the club.”

“Well, okay. Are you still happy at the club, or do you wanna do something else?”

“I’m happy but I feel like I could do better.”

“Because of San or because of you? Kinda important to differentiate. If you’re still happy but feel like you could do better for you, then great! But, if you wanna do better just to impress San and do it for him, then no.”

“I feel so stupid. I mean, he drops me off at home. We see each other from time to time–”

“Have sex with each other from time to time–”

“Jongho!”

“What?” He laughs.

“You’re in public!”

“So?! It’s natural human behavior. My god.” He laughs a bit more. “I’m not wrong though.”

“It’s so dumb. I don’t even know what this is. Probably not even something to be questioning my life like this.”

“Has San ever said anything to make you feel that way?”

“No. In fact, he’s supportive about everything and didn’t make me feel terrible about my past decisions.”

“Then you’re overthinking again.” He thanks the staff before grabbing his bag of food. “Y/N, what did I tell you? Just let things be. Don’t make any rash decisions or start assuming things if everything is fine.”

“But is everything fine?”

“It sounds like it to me. He seems like a nice guy. You might wanna have that conversation about what you two are later on if things really haven’t progressed yet, but otherwise, I truly think he’s a nice guy and he’s probably just busy.”

“Jongho–” Suddenly, a few knocks come to your door, throwing you off guard mid-call.

“Guess that’s my cue to go. Text me about tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You say right before ending the call. You set your bowl aside in the kitchen before looking through the peephole on the door. To your surprise [or not], San is standing there on his phone with a small bag in hand.

“Hey.” You say, as you let him in. He smiles, but San doesn’t respond right away with the same enthusiasm. Instead, he shifts his attention to the text that came through on his phone before tucking it away and smiling at you.

“Hey. Sorry.” He hands you a small bag. “I bring pastries.”

“Mm, more pastries.” You tease with a giggle. “Thanks. What brings you here?”

“Sorry, I meant to text you but I forgot. I just wanted to see you since I haven’t been able to for a bit.” He kisses you on the cheek before making his way to your couch.

“Work’s been crazy, hm?” He sighs and leans his head back.

“Uh, yeah. It has been. But, it’s finally the weekend and I can kick back for a bit.” His hand comes up to run your back while you dig through the pastries he bought. “Did you eat already?”

“Mm, yeah. I just made a small salad. I’m not too hungry. Was on the phone with Jongho for a bit.”

“I see. You should eat a little more before your shift.”

“I will.” You look at him. “Are you guys going to the club tonight?” He nods.

“Mingi said he needs it.” You chuckle.

“Do you need it, too?”

“Kinda, but I’m here with you already and I get you all to myself.”

“You do that at the club, too.” You tease.

“Can’t help it.” San quietly looks at you while his arm is loosely around your waist. You observe him for a bit, trying to see if you can read into him or find any obvious signs of what else has been stressing him lately. He’s the same, except more tired, not as talkative or playful like he usually is. Your gut tells you it’s something deeper than work and you’re not sure how you’ll figure him out.

“San.”

“Mhm?”

“You sure it’s just been work stressing you out?” He leans forward to meet your gaze with a small smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t really been myself lately.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.”

“I missed you, though. I really missed you.” His finger is tracing soft circles against your hip. He dips forward to place a gentle kiss right below your earlobe, his soft, pink lips sending tingles down your spine. You shouldn’t be buckling this fast around San, but god, does he have you wrapped around his finger. He places a kiss at the corner of your lips and you instantly feel like jelly.

You missed him, too.

And you want him. Badly.

Before you know it, San is sitting up against the wall, watching you bounce on his dick like the good girl you are. He’s watching through hooded eyes; glued to the way your tits bounce, the way his cock slides in and out of you, the way you moan for him like all of this was made for you and you only.

“Fuck.” San groans, hands on your hips to guide you and slam you down onto his length. “You know how to ride me so well.” He watches as you begin to roll your hips against him, taking more control while riding him; it's pure ecstasy. Your moans, your movements, everything about it is just.. addicting.

You have such a captivating presence, and San can't help but lose himself in you.

“Baby, if you keep working me like that, you’ll make me cum.” He moans, head resting back against the wall. Your hand rests on his neck, giving it a gentle squeeze as you feel yourself bubbling with pleasure. Your clit is rubbing against him deliciously, and you can’t help but sit back and ride him at a different angle.

“Sannie.” You moan loudly. “Ohhhhshit.” Your words melt together when you suddenly feel yourself unraveling quicker than expected. “I’m cumming— fuck, fuck, fuck—“ You repeat like a mantra, hips working sloppily against him as you come undone; the sounds bouncing off the walls nothing short of pornographic.

“That’s my good girl.” San loves watching the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way you moan loudly, the way he could hear how wet you are. Once you’ve come down from your high, San wastes no time getting you on your fours— face down, ass up. He gives your ass a good knead, spitting onto your pussy before lining himself back up at your entrance. He pushes himself in and works at a steady rhythm, giving your ass a good smack. You let out another moan, tears pricking your lids at how sensitive you’re feeling right now. He’s fucking into you so good, your ass is clapping against him. “You look so good like this, baby. You like it when I fuck you like this, hm?” He gives your ass another smack, cheek red from the impact. “Does it feel good?”

“So good, San.” He moans loudly as he continues to piston into you.

“Your pussy was made for me.” He groans. “Whose is it, Y/N?”

“Y-yours.” You choke, cheek digging deep into the mattress.

“Louder, babygirl. I can’t hear you.”

“Yours!”

“There you go.” He grunts, ass feeling numb from San fucking into you. The way he’s driving into you and hitting your spot at this angle feels so good, you feel the pleasure bubbling in your pit again. You raise yourself up a bit to rub at your clit, pushing your orgasm forward as San’s movements begin to get sloppy. “Shit, Y/N.”

“San, cum for me.” You egg him on as he begins to pant. Hearing him praise you and call your name pushes you over the edge once more, hands gripping at the sheets while you shudder from the second orgasm taking over. San quickly pulls out and unloads onto your ass, back.

“God.” He huffs as he gives himself one last pump and pants heavily. “So good for me. You okay, pretty girl?” His hand comes up your back, leaving a random trail of kisses along the way.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath.

“Let me clean you up. Don’t move.” He quickly runs to your bathroom to grab some wipes. “Gonna be kinda cold. I’m sorry.” He apologizes in advance before taking a wipe to your back.

“That feels kinda nice.” San chuckles, allowing you to lay back on your bed first before slipping in next to you post-cleanup.

“You feel nice.” You laugh, laying your head on his chest while he grabs his phone.

“So, what time are you guys heading to the club tonight?”

“I don’t know. Probably between 9-10pm?”

“You know there’s an event tonight, right?”

“I heard.” San laughs. “Some male dancers are guesting at the club?”

“Yeah. They’ll be on the second stage, though.” San nods, a few texts coming into his phone. You can’t help but glaze over the previews, back to back texts coming in from a ‘Noelle.’ The messages aren’t too lengthy, but she is texting him quite a few times and the previews alone are enough to make your stomach twist and turn.

It’s making you anxious, and for some reason, your gut tells you this Noelle is significant to San.

He’s not trying to pay attention to it right now though, and it’s probably just because he’s in your company post-sex. He briefly looks at the messages at the top, thumb coming up to swipe them away.

“Is it just you guys?” You ask, wondering if San would open up to you otherwise.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty sure. Unless Mingi invites other people.”

“Mmm, okay.”

“I’m excited to see you on stage again.” He looks down at you with a smirk.

“Yeah right.”

“Swear. Everyone knows I’m only there for you. It’s kinda nice to show it off.”

“Show what off?”

“That you’re mine.” He winks, making your heart melt into a puddle. You hate that San gives you these signals, but there hasn’t been much to it besides seeing each other occasionally outside of the club and fucking each other’s brains out.

“Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

“Who said I didn’t mean it?!” You shake your head and turn to your side, now going through your own phone. San gives you a kiss on the shoulders, hand coming up to rub your arm while he continues to plant random kisses at the nape of your neck, below your ear, jaw.

“Sannie, what are you doing?” You giggle, ticklish from the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Kinda want you again.”

“Are you serious?” You turn to look at him and he smirks.

“Can’t help it. You drive me crazy.” His hand comes down to your thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Wanna keep taking care of you.”

“Do you, now?” You tease, letting San continue to kiss you; hand coming down and ghosting your clit. You decide to let San have you once more before he’s struggling to part from your lips, even as he’s about to head out the door.

You blush watching him leave, excited to show off and see him tonight.

The night comes rather quickly because the club is incredibly packed with all sorts of people making their way in to see all of the dancers. You’re having to entertain on stage, deliver drinks and give a few private dances. It’s nothing beyond what you’re already used to doing, but the clientele is booming tonight and you’re constantly moving around all ends of the club.

It’s a little past 10pm when you catch wind of Mingi, Hongjoong, San and Wooyoung. And for a minute, your eyes light up. San immediately plops onto a chair, legs spread as he smirks. He gestures for you to come over with his finger and lightly taps his lap, making you giggle to yourself while you continue to perform a few tricks on the pole.

“Gorgeous.” San eyes the high-cut bodysuit sitting on your body, showing off all your curves beautifully.

“You made it.” You crouch down in front of him, hands trailing up his legs.

“Of course, why would I miss out some more?” He winks, stuffing a few bills in the slit of your bodysuit while you stand lean towards his ear.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“You?” You laugh.

“Cliché.”

“Kidding, baby.” He bites onto his bottom lip. “Can we get shots of whiskey?”

“All four of you?”

“Yes please, pretty lady.” Hongjoong smirks. “Bodysuit looks good on you.”

“Openly hitting on San’s woman is crazy.” Wooyoung laughs loudly.

“Just complimenting her.”

“Yeah, keep it up.” San teases Hongjoong.

“Thank you. I’ll be back.” You smile at Hongjoong before stepping over to the bar to grab their shots. At this point, it feels like everything happens so quickly; the following moments, the rest of the night— all a blur. When you return to the four, they’ve added a few more to the group. And this time, it’s a group of 5 girls— one that is in a heated conversation with San off to the side. You slow your pace, watching as she clings around his waist, but he gently shoves her off and shakes his head. He heads back to his seat and she welcomes herself on his lap, ignoring everything that he had just done to her moments ago. San doesn’t seem entirely pleased being that he’s been trying to distance himself from her, but to no avail— you’ve already returned and he panics.

“Here.” You hand them their drinks, handing San’s last.

“Noelle, seriously. Can you please get off my lap?” Noelle. You can’t help but feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, though you’re trying your best to brush it off in the heat of the moment.

“You’re such a killjoy.” She whines, sitting on the edge of the chair.

“Thank you, love.” His look is unreadable when he reaches for his glass and so is yours. But, San knows you saw everything and he knows it all looks wrong. It, all of this, must seem so fucked up to you right now and he wishes he could just pull you aside to clear up the air.

“Thank you, Miss Crimson.” Mingi raises his shot glass to you.

“Is that the stripper San is into?” You overhear one of the girls ask, followed by a:

“He’s not serious, right? Her?” Noelle scoffs and you subtly roll your eyes, getting ready to head back to the bartender. You weren’t gonna let this girl get to you. Not today.

“Have a good night.” Is what you tell Wooyoung in passing, making him flash San a look shortly afterwards.

“Don’t think she’s too happy about Noelle being here.”

“I didn’t know they were actually coming either.” San glares at him, trying his best to shake off Noelle and continue to create some distance. He truthfully didn’t think Noelle and her friends were coming along. Mingi had briefly mentioned the event to them, sliding in a stupid joke about how much San loves coming solely because of you. She didn’t take it lightly, hence why she decided to come along even though their initial plan was to head to the regular club down the street.

When San sees Noelle, he’s pretty irritated. The last time she was texting him, she was blowing up his phone about shit from the past and their relationship. Quite frankly, he no longer has energy to deal with her and he’s tired of the back and forth. He doesn’t wanna start any issues tonight since it seems too late to brush them off and he doesn’t wanna dampen the mood. He knows how clingy she gets and he knows how she can act when she feels him slowly slipping from her grip, especially if they’re together in person. The last thing San wanted to do was upset you, nor did he want you to think of him as an asshole who only wanted you for one thing.

That was not his plan.

He knows you’re not happy and he knows he fucked up for even trying to brush this off, for hiding Noelle when he had no reason to.

“You aren’t actually into the stripper are you?” She questions San and he furrows his brows.

“It literally isn’t any of your business.”

“Wow, so you are? I came out tonight, hoping we could—”

“Oh god, enough of that shit. Not here.” Wooyoung sighs. “Let’s go enjoy ourselves, that’s the whole point of tonight, right?” Wooyoung tries to push his bestfriend to the main stage, leaving the girls to enjoy the men on the second stage. You’ve continued to deliver a few drinks around the other room before stepping back onto the main stage. In your peripherals, you can see San eyeing you; almost pleading for you to swing by his way.

Except, you don’t, and you start to entertain a few men on the other side of the stage. San feels his blood boil a little when he sees you giving your attention to another man, knowing full well you were doing this on purpose.

And you were. You weren’t exactly sorry about it.

Because you didn’t have time for this bullshit, and your job still needed to get done. At the end of the day, you are just a dancer. What more could you be to him? You temporarily feed into their fantasies, nothing more, nothing less.

The reality is hitting you more and more tonight.

It makes you feel stupid for having thought otherwise, for letting the possibility live longer than it should’ve.

You’re not sure if you have time to entertain someone who has all that baggage.

San comes around to see you in better view, watching as you crouch down with your legs cocked open; swiping two fingers across your tongue before running it over your [barely] clothed pussy. San clenches his jaw when the man in front of you leans forward with a huge smirk on his lips, holding a roll of bills in his hand.

“Uh oh.” Wooyoung instigates. “I told you so. In true Choi San fashion.”

“Stop that.” Wooyoung shrugs.

“Noelle’s here, hoping she could be the one to go home with you tonight. And that one—“ He points at you over his glass. “Thinks you’re toying with her emotions. Pick a fucking battle.”

“I already told you I was done with the whole Noelle thing. She doesn’t get it for whatever reason.” San slightly groans and clicks his teeth. “Why did Mingi invite them, anyway?”

“I don’t know? I can’t control that boy’s mouth. Besides, you know he’s been trying to get with Donna after those dates didn’t go well.” San sees you dip into a private booth with the guy, shutting the curtains closed without looking his way. He takes a sip of his drink, stepping closer to the stage to try and enjoy himself– ignoring the possibilities of what’s going on behind that curtain.

The club feels suffocating, and he wants out.

Especially when you seem to be taking your time in the booth.

“You wanna head out? Noelle and the girls wanna head down the street now. Said they’re bored of the guys already.” Mingi asks, pointing at the girls getting ready to head out to the next club down the street.

“Already?” Hongjoong cocks a brow up. “We literally just got here.”

“Yeah, I guess they’re over it.”

“I mean, whatever. Just don’t ask me to leave the other club hella early.” Joong rolls his eyes. “Whose bright fucking idea was to invite them anyway?” He glares at Mingi.

“Sorry! I wanted to be nice and extend the invite. I didn’t think they’d be over it so quickly.”

“Right, you wanted to be nice and get into Donna’s pants.”

“Do you wanna stay back?” Wooyoung asks in San’s ear, but all San can do is shrug. “We don’t have to go with them.”

“Let’s just go, I’ll never hear the end of it if we stay back.” Wooyoung simply looks at him in return.

“Let’s go!” Mingi yells. San subtly looks back to try and see if you’re out of the booth, but Mingi is already shoving him towards the door– towards Noelle and her friends.

“Choi San, hurry up!” Noelle whines as she waits for him.

“Noelle, you don’t have to wait for me. You can go with your friends.”

“Why are you acting so mean tonight?” She tugs on his wrist, but he snatches it out of her grip. “It definitely can’t be about her, right?”

“Go have fun with your friends and I’ll worry about my own.” San doesn’t mean to sound like an asshole, but he’s truly tired of the back and forth between Noelle. He hates that she acts this way, and he hates that she’s here. He feels like the night has gone to waste because he won’t be able to fully enjoy himself.

On top of that, you’re livid with him.

Speaking of you— You’ve kept yourself close to the pole even though your client has asked you for a lap dance. Once, twice, maybe even thrice. He’s attractive, but your mind is glued to San and how terrible this night ended up playing out for you. Luckily, the client doesn’t seem to fight much against it; as long as he gets his fix of you somehow, he’ll take it. Tonight’s one of those nights where you’ll stay for the full 45 to get the extra money, to hide away from the rest of the crowd.

One, two.

Twirl around the pole.

Three, four.

Invert and lean back.

Five, six.

Gently fall into the splits.

Seven, eight.

Bounce your ass on the stage.

“You’re a fucking goddess.” He says, gently palming himself through his pants, forcing you to mask the disgust you feel watching him openly do that. Though, you’ve seen worse and you’ve trained yourself to have the thick skin needed in this industry. Right now, it hits differently. Because of San, because of Noelle.

Because of everything.

“You sure you can’t come down here and get on daddy’s lap? I think I’ve slipped you enough money to at least get a lapdance.”

“Sorry, not doing that tonight, love.”

“Aw, why not? Not even for me?”

“Not for you. Or them.” You say, bending over to at least give him a peek of what he wants.

“You sure you’re not saving it all for someone else?”

“Nope.”

“Gonna have to come back on a better night then.” He bites his bottom lip. “You’re my favorite. I swear you drive me crazy.” The statement is enough to trigger San’s voice in your head, causing you to rush through the last bit of your pole dance before thanking the man for his time and tip.

When you step out of the booth, you no longer see San and his group and it instantly makes your heart clench. You didn’t know what to expect tonight, but you definitely didn’t expect San to leave so quickly with his friends—

With Noelle and her friends.

Now, you’re back to square one. You feel like a mere distraction, something that temporarily fills the void; nothing more, nothing less. You quickly head to the back to get some air and a moment to yourself, finding a few texts from San:

san: Y/N, i’m sorry. i didn’t know they were coming. mingi just invited them and didn’t really say anything about it.

san: i know you’re probably wondering about her and i can explain. it’s really not what it looks like.

san: let me know when you’re off? i wanna take you home still.

san: i wanna talk to you and see you. please.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you shut off the phone and ignore the texts. Even if you wanted to answer back, even if it fucking pains you to re-run through those texts, you keep your head up and throw on a brave face for the rest of your shift.

San is still your kryptonite, and you aren’t sure where to go from here.

You need to leave quickly enough to avoid running into San tonight.

Guess you’d be taking your usual walk alone.

You managed to dodge San and his friends on your way home that one awful night, ignoring his calls even as you’ve gotten comfy and tucked in your bed. San continued to blow up your phone into the next day until he realized you weren’t gonna answer him anytime soon.

And it sucked.

But, you needed to hold your ground. You needed to go back to the Y/N who worried about her own, the Y/N who didn’t let anything faze her even if she was hurt by loved ones, by friends.

You needed to go back to the Y/N who kept it real with herself and was proud of how far she’s come despite the ups and downs.

You hadn’t seen San come to the club, and it was probably his way of giving you the space that you indirectly asked for. And indeed, you needed this.

You needed to go back to the old Y/N and reprioritize.

“Hey baby.” Mia says, hand on the small of your back as you dab a bit of lip gloss onto your lips.

“Hey.”

“How’re you doing?” She brushes your hair back and gives you a small, sympathetic smile.

“I’ve seen better days.” You let out a chuckle.

“You haven’t texted him back?” You shake your head.

“No. I don’t really know what to say. I just feel kinda dumb. Maybe we were just meant to be a thing in passing.”

“Don’t say that. I know he had some feelings for you, and I know the situation was unique. But, nobody would go through all that effort if it didn’t matter to them.”

“Mm, yeah, He just has some baggage he has to deal with and I don’t think I have time or energy for that.”

“For all you know, it could just be her.”

“But, why hasn’t he officially let her go then?” Mia pouts a bit.

“I think he’s over it. He didn’t seem all that interested in her at all.” She nods. “Talk to him, hun. Let him explain. It might just be a misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, maybe.” She gives you a reassuring smile.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, babe. Thanks.” You give her a toothless smile, letting out a small squeal when she slaps your ass.

“Now get out there and do your thing, the clients are waiting.” You chuckle and shake your head, taking one last look in the mirror before you head out to the main stage. You strut your way across the floor, doing your usual sweet talk with a few of the men lining the stage. You take the stage for a bit and do your usual routine, letting them slip their bills wherever they can under your gear, or shower the stage with a few more extra tips. Just as you were getting into the swing of things, you catch San walking in by himself. You almost lose track of your thoughts, distracted by how good he looks. He’s sporting simple slacks and a gray-striped button up with chelsea boots, rolex on his wrist. He looks around the club before his eyes land on yours, and you suddenly feel like you’ve lost the ability to move, to dance.

▹ FLASHBACK

“I’ve never seen you this sulky. It’s kinda annoying.” Wooyoung plops next to San on the couch, watching as he slouches and lazily texts back on his phone.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m assuming she’s not answering your texts or calls yet?”

“Nope.”

“Down bad.”

“Are you here to help or to get on my nerve?” San glares at his bestfriend.

“Why don’t you just go see her?”

“I don’t wanna cross boundaries and be in her space, especially if she’s already not answering my texts or calls.”

“Maybe this is what she needs, though. She’s probably still assuming shit about Noelle. Which, by the way, I hope you ended it. For real.”

“I did. That’s why she was hella upset during the last half of the club and I left.”

“I thought you left to go after Y/N. Where exactly did you go?”

“I mean, partially. I was gonna go after her and bring her home, but I was too late. The other half of me was pissed off because Noelle kept crying and trying to gaslight me. I told her I didn’t wanna do this anymore. Was tired of it. I told her we just don’t work and it’s time for us to move on.”

“‘Bout time you realized.” Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I know you have love for her and I know she meant a lot to you, but that girl is crazy. You continued to feed into it, too.”

“Yeah, well.”

“Just go see Y/N, dude. You look terrible.” San flips him off. “I mean it. If you want shit to change, then keep taking initiative.”

“I just don’t wanna scare her off. I already fucked up enough with this whole Noelle thing.”

“Damn, what did Y/N do to you?” Wooyoung laughs. “I truly didn’t think you’d end up finding your boo thing at the strip club. I’d like another thank you if this all goes well.” He smirks. “Thank you Wooyoung for making us go to the club on my birthday.” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” San sighs. “I’ll probably head to the club tonight and try to talk to her.”

“Want me to come? Moral support.” He shakes his head.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll be good.”

▹ END

You quickly head off the stage and head to the bar, switching gears to take a break from the stage. You scurry along, hoping you aren’t making it too obvious that you’re trying to deflect and avoid San yet again.

But, he knows.

“Y/N, hey. Wait.” San says as you brush past him, hand gently coming to your wrist. You wiggle out of his grip, giving him a look as you continue on to the next room. “Y/N.” He continues to call, hurriedly following after you. “Y/N, please.” He says as he comes to your side while you gather a few drinks onto your tray.

“San, what? I’m working.” You respond, still keeping your attention to the drinks.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?”

“Because.”

“Because, what? I didn’t mean to leave early without saying anything to you that night. I wanted to come back and take you home.”

“Oh, but Noelle didn’t let you, right?”

“Y/N, please don’t do that. That’s not even what happened—” San has his hand around your wrist again, his eyes pleading for you to hear him out.

“Aye, come on, my guy.” An unfamiliar man from the crowd comes in between you and San, ripping his hand away from your wrist. “Care to share? Stop being so selfish and gatekeeping her—”

“The fuck are you?”

“I see you come into this club with your friends, acting all high and mighty. You heard what I said.” He steps closer towards San. “Stop being so fucking selfish with her, hm? She’s for the crowd, baby’s meant to be shared—” The man suddenly slaps your ass and it turns a switch on for San. San pushes him away, causing the other man to lose his footing before attempting to swing at him.

“Stop that!” You try to yell, hoping it’d somehow break them apart. San is quick to dodge the first swing, but he gets unlucky with the second. San is quick to regain his composure, throwing a punch to him and causing him to fall to the ground. He towers over him and continues to lay a few more punches while you yell at security for assistance. “Quit it! San, stop! Stop it!” You repeat, prying him off of the man on the floor. “San!” You grip his bicep and pull him back.

“Fucking idiot.” San spits, hand coming to his jaw to ease the soreness.

“Get them out of here!” You tell security and San furrows his brows at you.

“Y/N—”

“Out. Now!” You repeat yourself, following after security as they get their hands on both San and the other guy, escorting them out of the club. One shoves the other man through the front entrance, while the other shoves San out of the side entrance. You’re already following behind, signaling for security that it’s okay for him to leave you alone with San. He gives you a curt nod as he walks around the corner— giving you enough distance that allows privacy, but also allows him to step in if necessary. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I wasn’t gonna let him talk about you like that, Y/N. Don’t ask me that fucking question.”

“It’s my job.” You remind him. “I meant what are you doing here?! Why did you come here, San?”

“I came here to talk to you!” His tone raises. “You aren’t answering my texts or calls, and all I wanna do is make this right. What do you expect me to do?”

“Let it go.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, San. What is it to you, anyway?”

“Are you serious?” He sighs, running his hand through his hair. “If you would just give me one second to talk to you—“ He pauses and lets out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N. All I want to do is talk to you and explain. I don’t wanna leave things like this.” He lowers his voice and steps closer to you.

“Then talk.” You cross your arms and shift your weight from one foot to another.

“Y/N, me and Noelle are done with. We’ve been done with for awhile. She’s my ex and we’ve gone through some shit but it’s over with.” He lets out a breath, the air cold and crisp against your skin. “Mingi invited them that night, and I just didn’t wanna cause any issues between us and ruin the night. She threw herself on me and I had been asking her to stop. I didn’t ask her to do that, nor did I want to entertain it. I shouldn’t have left with them though, I knew how that would look, too. I’m sorry. I promise you it meant nothing. I even told Noelle she needed to move on that night. I came back to the club, but you had already left.”

“San.” You shake your head. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why me?”

“Y/N, I really do like you.”

“But, that’s the problem. You don’t even see the issue with this.”

“What issue?!

“Us! That’s the fucking issue, San! We come from such different lives, does that not bother you? We’ll never be on the same page, we’ll never work.” San furrows his brows, trying his hardest to take the blow even though it hurts to.

“Why would you say it like that? I don’t care about how different our lives are. That doesn’t matter to me–”

“It does to me!”

“Why?! I don’t care what people think and so shouldn’t you! Wouldn’t we be enough?”

“It’s so easy for you to say because you don’t know what it’s like to be on my side of things.”

“Then, let me know!” San raises his voice before running his hand through his hair. “Y/N, I would never take advantage of you. Never in my mind did I ever think of you that way. Why won’t you let me be here for you?”

“Because San, you had me thinking I was stupid. I felt like you were here for one thing, and it made me question everything about myself, my life. I hated feeling that way. I even compared myself to Noelle at one point.”

“She’s nothing to me! I’m sorry for having hid that from you, but I didn’t think much of it at the time since the whole thing caught me off guard. She means nothing to me, and we’re done with. I’m sorry.” For some reason, you are torn. You want to believe San, and there is a small part of you that does. However, you still can’t get over the fact that he still kept her close for lord knows how long. What if he was balancing you both at the same time? How could you know he was for sure over her and that this wasn’t just a phase?

“What if this is just a phase to you, huh? What happens when you realize how much we don’t work? That we’re just too different? That maybe she or someone else is a better fit for you all along.” Your bottom lip trembles and even though you try to hide it, San catches on. “This is my life, and it won’t change for awhile.”

“Stop putting words in my mouth and choosing how I should feel. That’s not how this works. I caught feelings for you, Y/N. Genuinely. None of our differences mattered to me, and it won’t ever. I’m sorry you felt that way and that was never my intention.” San says calmly, but god, is he terrified right now. He is anxious. Nervous. Scared. And as much as you wanna cave, you remember you are outside of the club in the freezing cold.

Arguing with San.

“San, you know what? This is enough.”

“Y/N.” He pleads through his tone.

“Please just go home.” You point at the side door before nervously rubbing at your sides. “We should talk about this another time. Not here.”

“O-okay, so are you gonna answer my texts or calls then?”

“I’ll text you, okay?” You look at him with some remorse. Right now, you don’t think you’re ready to talk to him and you probably need to sort out your thoughts before the next time. Or else, you’ll continue to try blaming him, the situation. You’ll continue to deflect, you’ll continue to let San’s words brush over your head because you aren’t used to this genuine attention— these genuine feelings, genuine intentions.

San doesn’t say anything else, but his expression makes your heart break more. You let out a sigh before turning on your heel to get back into the club and finish your shift. As soon as the door shuts and acts as a barrier between you two, a few tears escape your lids. You quickly brush them away and shake off the feelings, storming out onto the main stage to finish your night strongly.

You need Jongho.

“This fucking sucks.” You tuck your knees to your chest as Jongho sighs and pours you another shot of tequila.

“Why don’t you text him, Y/N? Just talk to him.”

“I’m kinda scared. And nervous.” You take the shot with him.

“Why? He’s literally waiting for you to text him. You’ve just been big sad over him too, don’t you think that’s a sign?”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Oh, I don’t know, ‘hey, can we talk?’ maybe?” Jongho gives you a look before shaking his head. “I love you, but dude. Get it together. You should just talk to him and stop putting yourself through this. You obviously like the guy and he feels the same way. The whole thing with his ex was just a misunderstanding, too. What exactly are you trying to put off?”

“I think I’m just scared. You know how it was with my ex. He wasn’t nice and also made me feel ridiculously stupid and incompetent for my decisions. Even after the break up.”

“Yeah, but he’s your ex for a reason. San is not the same person.” Jongho pours you another shot. “I understand you’re scared. But, you can’t shield yourself off from everything forever. I truly think he’s a genuinely nice guy.”

“Plus, I worry about him too. How would his friends feel about us being serious? His family, his sister?”

“I’m sure it’ll all be fine. San isn’t even worried about that, nor does he seem to care. It doesn’t matter where you come from. They should be able to see what kind of person you are and the heart you have.”

“Mm, yeah. I just worry too much. I don’t want my life to bleed into his and ruin the shit he’s built for himself.”

“It won’t. Jeez, you aren’t a criminal Y/N. You’re great at everything you do and you’re incredibly talented. You have a lot of qualities that could take you far.” There’s another pause, enough for you and Jongho to take the last shot to the neck before you pull out your phone and click on San’s text thread.

“Fuck it.”

“Exactly.” He sips on some soda to wash down the tequila burn. “By the way, I’m never talking about you that way again.” Jongho visibly shudders, making you playfully hit him on the shoulder.

you: hi, sorry for the random text. can we talk?

You toss your phone aside and dig your face into your hands, nervous about the text back. Granted, it’s only been close to a week and a half after the whole thing went down at the club. Time moves so fast that part of you felt terrible for making San wait in general. But, it should be a testimony to how he truly feels about you.

“What if he’s over it?” You groan into your hands.

“Then at least you know, right? You can close that chapter and move on.” Jongho takes a bite of his chicken. “Highly doubt it though.” At this point, the phone dings behind Jongho and he’s quick to grab it for you— flashing you San’s name on the screen.

“Fuck.” You whine.

san: hey. don’t apologize. of course we can. should i swing by your place soon?

“I’ll drop you off in a bit.”

“Are you sure you’re good? I can ask him to pick me up.”

“Actually, yeah. Ask him.” You chuckle as Jongho pours another shot for himself.

you: yeah, but i’m at jongho’s. do you think you can pick me up?

san: yeah i can, love. just send me the address.

“He always gets so sweet. I can’t do this.” You send San Jongho’s address.

“Yes you can!” Jongho responds. “Here, drink.” He pushes your water glass towards you. “So you don’t feel like shit later.”

san: on my way. 20 mins.

“Thanks for the food and drinks. For letting me be a crybaby. You know, the whole nine.” Jongho chuckles and nudges you on the arm.

“I got you, dude. You’re my bestfriend. I won’t let you go through these things alone.”

“I guess I’ll keep you updated?”

“Take your time. And just be honest with him, alright? Be straight up about how you feel with everything.”

“I will.”

When San arrives a bit after 20 minutes, you grab your things and bid your bestfriend farewell. You feel nervous, palms sweating the more you fiddle with your fingers and head down the steps to San’s car. Once you catch wind of him, you pause in your steps just to give yourself a tiny breather before committing and approaching his passenger door. He’s in a black shirt and sweats, glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey.” You say as you climb in, San giving you a small smile.

“Hey. You good to go?” You buckle your seatbelt and nod, allowing San to drive off to your studio. “Did you work at the shop today?”

“Mhm, I worked an earlier shift to get off at the same time as Jongho.”

“You guys just hung out?”

“Yep. Drank, ate some food. Talked about some things.”

“Some things?”

“You.” You give him a look and he nods.

“Fair enough.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Work. I’ve been working from home lately since there isn’t much requiring me to come into the office.”

“Been busy?”

“Yup, but I’ve seen worse days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” He lets out a small chuckle as he continues to drive on. The rest of the drive to your place is quiet, but nothing feels weird or awkward. It’s surprisingly a comfortable silence and it’s probably due to the fact that you two have missed each other even though you’re both still trying to gather your thoughts.

When he pulls up into a spot on the street, San shuts off the car and immediately runs to your side to help you out. He follows behind as you lead the way, quietly unlocking your door and tossing the keys off to the side. San sits on your couch and lets out a sigh, watching as you plop next to him after grabbing some water.

“Want anything else to drink?”

“I’m okay.” He gives you a small smile. You turn to face him, a leg tucked under the other that’s swung over the edge of the couch.

“Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course.”

“Can we talk about what’s been happening? I just really need you to be honest with me, that’s all I ask.”

“I’ll always be honest with you, Y/N. It was never my intention to make it seem otherwise.”

“Well, after everything, I did feel pretty stupid. You knew I was already doubting myself after I lost my family and friends because of my decisions. For a second, I felt like you tricked me and that I was stupid not to realize you only wanted me for one thing.” San shakes his head, but he continues to let you talk. “I started questioning myself more and I hated the feeling. I knew I couldn’t be enough for you, or that I was completely different from girls in your past. And it felt terrible. I couldn’t help but jump to conclusions that night because who am I compared to her? I’m living such a different life and I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you realized that.” You shrug. “Anyway, I felt shitty because I genuinely had feelings for you even though I was scared. I still am, especially because I don’t know if this is just a phase or what.” You feel the tears pricking your bottom lids again but you do your best to prevent San from catching on. You look down at your hands, fiddling with your sweater sleeves. You feel San shift closer to you, his hand coming up to your cheek.

“Can you look at me please?” Your eyes shift back up to him, and you feel the butterflies in your stomach the moment you two lock eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He says softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. That whole thing Noelle—” He sighs. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been a ride with her. But meeting you and getting to know you made me realize how much I didn’t wanna be stuck in that anymore. It made me realize how much I craved normalcy with someone, something that doesn’t have to be so sad and toxic all the damn time.” He lets out a breath. “I know it sounds dumb that it took me all of this to realize, but I mean it. You make me feel things I haven’t felt in such a long time. It feels good.” He does a subtle nod. “I feel happy and good around you.”

“San, you just scare me.” A few tears stream down your cheeks and San is the first to catch them; gently wiping it away while he keeps his eyes locked onto yours. “Our lives are so different, I can’t help but worry about how this is gonna make things turn out in the future. Your family, your friends—”

“My friends are fine, they know how I feel about you. And my family knows they can’t dictate everything about my life. You—” He pauses. “Y/N, you aren’t any different just because of what you do. What matters is the kind of person you are, how you genuinely make me feel. None of that matters.”

“You know it isn’t gonna be that easy.”

“So be it. I know you’re scared, but I’m with you on this.” He runs his other thumb across your lip. “We can figure this out, okay? We can take this slow and figure it out together. I’ll stop heading to the club with the guys and be there for you in many other ways. Just know that I’m gonna support you no matter what, I’m not like everyone else. Fuck all of them.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sorry.” He repeats. You can’t help but lean into his hand and let out a shaky breath, kissing the palm of his hand before returning your gaze on him. His smile grows, making him plant an eager kiss on your forehead, to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

“Are we okay?” He whispers against your lips and you nod. “Can I have you then?” He whispers against your lips in between another kiss. “Make it up to you?” Another kiss. “Show you how I really feel?” You nod, giving San leverage to scoop you into his arms and carry you to your bed. He gently lays you down and is quick to shed off your clothes, admiring every inch of you. San tosses his glasses onto your nightstand before placing random trails of kisses along your body, kissing every scar, every curve, every tattoo; everything about you still continues to drive him crazy. Today, San takes his time. Though he’s eager to show you how you make him feel, he decides he’s gonna take his time with you.

Even when he laps at your pussy, your clit, making you cum within minutes of being positioned in between your thighs.

Even when he rocks his hips into you— it’s a slow and steady pace, enough to make you feel every inch of him.

Even when he sits back onto his knees, letting you ride him.

His hands run up your sides while your hands are tangled in his hair, rolling your hips against him steadily, slowly, letting him feel every inch of you. He moans against your neck before placing wet kisses on the surface, hands now gripping tighter as he feels himself nearing his high. Everything is so intimate, so raw, so close— San can’t keep his lips off of you and hearing your moans bounce off of the walls adds to the pleasure. Your clit is rubbing deliciously against him, causing you to bite onto his bottom lip before tilting your head back in pleasure.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He groans in between open-mouthed kisses. “Be my good girl and cum with me.” You furrow your brows in pleasure, hands gripping his jaw as you continue to deeply kiss him, your climax heightening at your gut.

“Sannie.” You whine, unable to form any thoughts.

“You know how to fuck me so well. You’re perfect.” He hisses, the pleasure almost feeling too intense with how much he’s having to hold back. You start to rock your hips at a messier pace when you feel yourself climbing, moan loudly and gripping the ends of San’s hair when you finally come undone. He almost whines when he feels you twitch against him, hissing at how good you feel wrapped around him. San quickly lays you back and pounds into you, releasing his seed and painting your walls white.

The both of you stay stationary for a second, panting and regulating your breathing once you’ve come back down from cloud nine. San brushes the hair away from your face and adoringly looks into your eyes, placing a kiss on your lips before slowly sliding himself out of you.

“Let’s get cleaned up.” He jogs over to your bathroom and turns on the shower, waiting for the water to reach a perfect temperature before grabbing you.

While in the shower, San makes sure to lather your body with soap, giving your back and shoulders a good massage before rinsing off. You follow suit, giggling when you plop a few bubbles on his nose and cheeks. The best thing about the shower is that San doesn’t pressure you for more, no. He showers you with kisses, surely showing you just exactly what you mean to him through the action alone.

After the shower, you climb into bed with San, letting him take you into his arms while you turn on some music to softly fill the background. He gently strokes your hair, and hums along, keeping you close in his warm embrace.

“San.”

“Yeah?”

“You know what I want to do in the future?”

“What’s that?”

“I wanna own my own dance studio and teach. Help people grow their confidence and embrace their sexiness.” San chuckles. “You know? People get shy about these things or hide because they feel like they can’t dance or be sexy.”

“You’d be an amazing teacher for that.” You giggle.

“Hopefully one day.”

“We’ll make it happen. No matter how long it takes, hm?” He hums. “I got you.” You look up at San and stare at the galaxies he holds in those beautiful, brown orbs. What you did to deserve someone like San, you’ll never know— but you’ll take it as a gift from the universe; a gift that shows how proud the universe is of you for never giving up and for staying true to yourself.

For once, everything feels right. Everything seems to be where it should be. Everything in your life, as it is now, is what’s meant to be. And out of all the changes the universe has brought you, you’re at least thankful for this; for that moment San walked into the club, for the moment you took the first leap.

“You got me?” You tease and he nods.

“I got you.”

▹ taglist: @itsvxlentine @vantediary @certifiedmoa @asjkdk @bintificreads @frobin4ever @persphonesorchid

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haknom · 1 month

Text

THIS MUST BE MY DREAM — YANG JUNGWON

∿ 📋 SCORE SHEETS ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 Jungwon was living his best life at Earl View Academy. He was scoring the highest marks, dominating every exam, and ranking the top one out of every student. See, he was living his best life at Earl View Academy before you came along, destroying his reputation because of your similar level in academics. It had to be a dream, there was no way someone could compete with him. With that said, he immediately renamed you as the new student to his one and only arch nemesis.

∿ TOP RANKS ✂️ academic-rival!jungwon x fem!reader (ft. jungwon from enhypen, baekseung from epex, and minji from newjeans)

∿ EXAM REVIEW ⟡ insp by doctor slump, long fic, academic rivals to lovers, rivals to lovers, highschool au, nerds to lovers, fluff, crack, and angst.

∿ 📔 STUDY NOTES ୨ৎ swearing, bickering, mentions of pills (painkillers), skipping meals, fainting, crying, being sick, and mental health issues, lmk if i missed anything.

∿ NUMBER OF EXAM QUESTIONS 🎓 14980 words

∿ FEEDBACK . . . and with that said it’s finally done!!!!! took me two months cs i took so many breaks …. happy belated jungwon day? LMFAO… and tysm to @soov for proofreading all the way !!! love u rei <33

∿ STUDY PLAYLIST 🎶 click here!

RANK ONE.

In Earl View Academy, everyone wanted to live Jungwon’s life. He was a son everyone wanted—not his words—and that made him feel good about himself. Even if he was quite the goofball, he still aced all his assignments while having fun.

His life was perfect.

“Jungwon!” His friend, Baekseung called, gaining his attention almost immediately. The boy looked over at his brown-haired friend with a smile, pausing the movements of his pencil gliding against his notebook.

“Hm?” He hummed, waiting for his friend to continue talking. Baekseung took a seat on the window sill beside Jungwon as Minji walked into the classroom.

“Did you see the banner they hung up? It has something to do with University, I believe.” He said as Minji walked towards them.

“Here.” She held out her phone, showing the boys a picture of the banner. It showcased a brief description of what to expect when applying to the University of Seoul and the date of submission—February 9th of 2024.

Jungwon’s birthday.

It was perfect timing, almost as if it was destined to be. His reputation at school and his relationship with his teachers would easily help him get accepted, right?

“The acceptance rate is 40%, which isn’t all bad, but many people apply, so…” Minji explained, turning off her phone, and shoving it into her back pocket. Jungwon tapped his pencil against his chin to a random, yet consistent rhythm in his head.

Jungwon’s friends always enabled his confidence. He was aware of his smartness, but they made it seem bigger than it really was.

“Although a lot of people apply, I’m sure you’ll get accepted. Your application will catch their eyes immediately, trust me.”

Jungwon bit back a smile at Baekseung’s words, sending him an amused nod instead.

“I’m sure it will.” He replied, returning his focus to his notes. Before his friends appeared, he was working on a few equations, to make sure they stuck with him for their test.

It was his way of studying; learn the materials in class and study them like his life depended upon it.

It worked like a charm every time.

“I don’t get how you understand these things.” Baekseung said while peeking over at his work. Jungwon smiled, letting out a chuckle.

He never did, it wasn’t anything new.

“See, you start with your values, then you write out your formula and substitute your variables for your numbers—”

“Enough! You lost me at the word ‘values.’” He exclaimed, causing both Jungwon and Minji to laugh.

“Hey, when you get accepted into the University of Seoul, don’t forget me.” Baekseung pleaded and leaned in with his hands desperately clasped together.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

Jungwon dropped his pencil, letting it lay flat on his notebook, and placed his hands on top of Baekseung’s.

“You have nothing to worry about.” He said, playing along with Baekseung’s act.

“I don’t get how I was pulled into this trio,” Minji said, cringing at the sight before her.

“Yeah, me neither.” Baekseung smiled at Jungwon, then, removed his hands from underneath his, and returned to his spot on the window sill.

“Oh well, here we are now. You love us, right?” Jungwon teased, the cringing expression never leaving Minji’s face.

The two boys stared at her in silence, waiting for her response. They wouldn’t let her off the hook if she didn’t open her mouth to say anything.

“Fine. I do.” She replied, earning bright smiles from her friends in return. She shook her head, a small smile making its way to her face.

It was impossible to avoid their faces. Even if they weren’t trying, they still managed to swoon her over with one look. They were unstoppable together.

Jungwon went back to studying as Minji and Baekseung playfully bickered over a past memory. It was a common occurrence, nothing new.

“I heard they’re selling Yakult in the cafeteria today!” A classmate said to their friend, gaining the three’s attention immediately.

They stopped what they were doing and looked at each other. They gave each other a look that only they could understand. There were no words shared, only their eyes held their words.

Soon after, Baekseung and Jungwon got up from their spots, following behind Minji who led them out of the classroom.

Yakult was their favourite thing ever. It was something all three of them could agree on—that they tasted delightful. Other than that, they all had different tastes in a way.

“Finally, they’re bringing it back!” Minji cheered, happier than ever. Baekseung, who stood in the middle, wrapped his arms around the two to pull them in closer.

“Do we have a plan?” He asked as Minji scoffed.

“Do we even need one? Just do whatever your mind tells you to.” She said and he nodded.

“Smart choice.”

The two conversed alone just as they did back in the classroom, except Jungwon wasn’t studying. He could’ve been included in their conversation right now, they weren’t excluding him at all.

He just didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even take note that they were talking because it all sounded muffled to him.

All he paid attention to was his homeroom teacher who walked down the hallways, lips moving as if he was talking to someone, but Jungwon didn’t know who.

Once he walked past, it was then revealed. A girl stood fairly behind his homeroom teacher, catching Jungwon’s attention.

He had no clue who she was, nor had he ever seen her face before, he ‘didn’t’ even care about what her name was, what time she arrived, what foods she liked, why she was wearing their school’s uniform, or what she had for breakfast.

All he cared about was how pretty she was, and fine, maybe what her name was too. Previously, if someone were to tell him about another being heaven-sent he wouldn’t understand them.

Now, he really does because she, she was heaven-sent to him at least.

“You okay?” Baekseung asked, looking over at Jungwon’s dazed figure. He shook Jungwon with the arm that rested over his shoulder, startling the poor boy.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.”

Well, he hoped he was.

“Sweet, if I’m not wrong, lunch starts in about 3 minutes. Therefore, I believe we’ll be first…” Baekseung paused, his voice growing quieter at the sight before them.

“… In line.” His words were almost like a whisper. He was practically speechless at the line. At least 20 students were already waiting for their Yakult’s.

“Yeah, um, maybe we do need a plan,” Minji said, regretting her previous words. There was no way they’d get through a line like this one.

“Maybe? We 100% need a plan.” Baekseung said, his arms slipping off their shoulders.

“I’m sure we’ll be fine if we just wait. It can’t be that bad—Woah! Okay. Maybe it is bad.” Jungwon’s reassuring words were cut off by his shocked ones.

The line extended even further. How was that even possible?

“Hey, Min, what time is it?” Jungwon asked Minji as she checked her phone that previously sat in her back pocket.

“11:37 AM.” She replied, still flabbergasted at the number of students waiting for their Yakult’s.

“Do you think that will be enough time to visit the nearest convenience store and then come back?” Jungwon asked, desperate for an escape. He was still craving a Yakult, but they wouldn’t get one at this rate.

“It’s 27 (81 Fahrenheit) degrees Celsius outside…” Baekseung muttered, mentally sweating at the thought.

“We can get ice cream as well…” Jungwon whispered, scared that the line of students would overhear his words and run after them.

What if they were craving ice cream too? It wasn’t just the three of them who were feeling hot.

“Smart choice. Yeah, let’s do that instead.” Minji cautiously walked away from the entrance of the cafeteria, careful not to make a sound as the two boys did the same.

Yes, they were being very dramatic right now, but that line of students was very intimidating.

The three returned to class with leftovers of their ice creams, hoping nobody would ask them for at least one lick—it was disgusting to know that they were serious.

“Oh, Jungwon,” Minji said, remembering something from earlier. Jungwon hummed in response, his mouth full of ice cream.

“Did you even start your applications? Our midterms are soon, so I’m sure our guidance counsellors are going to approach you about it.”

“Are you worried for me? Or do you want to use my application as a template for yours?”

“I…” Minji stayed silent as Baekseung stifled a laugh. She sent him a glare, causing him to clear his throat. What was he laughing at? He was bound to do the same exact thing.

“Fine, you caught me. But hey, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!” She exclaimed as Jungwon chuckled, getting up from his seat to throw away his ice cream wrapper.

“If you want, I can assist you—”

“Guys, guys!” A classmate shouted while running into the classroom shocked. Everyone’s heads turned to look at the said boy, more confused than ever. What lie was he about to spurt next?

“I just saw a pretty, pretty girl in the teacher’s office. I think she’s a new student.” He explained, however, nobody reacted.

“Are you lying to cover up the fact you were being scolded in the office?” Another classmate asked, causing laughs to erupt from other students in the room. Jungwon smiled to himself, that was a good one.

“I’m serious! I heard she might even be smarter than Jungwon!” The student exclaimed, causing Jungwon’s smile to falter and his pen to stop moving.

All eyes were focused on him as he slowly looked up at the shouting boy.

“Eh, I’m sure there’s no one who can compare to his level!” Baekseung said, patting Jungwon on his shoulder and smiling.

Jungwon was considered very smart for someone his age. It was a common compliment he received, but he didn’t hate it. It was quite ego-boosting.

“Everyone! Have a seat please.” Ms. Eun walked through the doors of their classroom, and another student walked in a few moments later.

“Obviously, I’m sure you’re aware of the new student joining our class today! Please make (Name) (Last Name) feel welcome in our classroom!” She explained as Jungwon’s eyes widened.

You were the same girl he saw in the hallways earlier. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat and his ears went numb at the sight of you.

“Oh, Jungwon. (Name) also got perfect on the entrance exam and was the top student at her old school. It must be great to meet someone at your level.” Ms. Eun smiled as all the emotions Jungwon had felt earlier plummeted.

So his classmate wasn’t lying. There was really someone who matched his skill of knowledge.

You looked over at the boy Ms. Eun referred to, noticing the way his expressions switched. At first glance, he was calm, but his eyes said otherwise.

They held an emotion you’ve never seen in anyone else’s—a desire to win. And, of course, you wouldn’t let him achieve that goal of his.

If someone were to win and maintain that top student rank, it would be you and you only.

You two hadn’t even spoken to one another, but within those 2 minutes of staring into each other’s eyes, it was obvious you both saw each other as a threat.

No matter what, only one of you can have that title.

RANK TWO.

“Jungwon, you haven’t looked up from your notebook this whole class,” Minji said, turning around in her seat to face him.

“Literally! There’s not even a single test coming up. What is there to be reviewed at this point?” Baekseung chimed in with a frown.

Yet, Jungwon didn’t look up, easily proving their point. It had been a week since you first arrived at Earl View Academy.

A week since Jungwon first felt threatened by your appearance. His life was perfect until you arrived.

His friends swore they hadn’t had one single hangout since then, but he said otherwise.

“You do know, you reviewing your notes while Minji and I converse without you, isn’t a hangout right?”

Jungwon’s pencil stopped moving for a brief moment, only to start up again at an even faster pace.

He couldn’t fall behind you.

He glanced over at your focused state, glaring in the process. You seemed to be at ease and he wasn’t.

That should’ve been him.

What happened to the perfect life that everyone wanted to live? The one where he could be happy and carefree even while passing all his classes with 100s?

“Don’t tell me you feel threatened—”

Jungwon’s pencil-led snapping silenced Baekseung’s voice almost immediately. He looked up at his friend, eyes darker than usual. There wasn’t his signature gleam that complimented his dimpled smile. He looked like he was ready to kill someone.

“Minji…” Baekseung called, signalling for her to take over the conversation. Sadly, that failed. She was just as scared as him.

“Hey, I could, uh… I could sharpen this for you!” She exclaimed, instead of continuing the same topic as before.

She took the pencil out of his hold, but Jungwon silently searched his pencil case for another one.

He had no time to waste. He was almost done with his notes.

Minji took her seat again, placing the boy’s broken pencil beside his notebook with a soft, yet dragged-out ‘okay.’

There would’ve been no point in going anyway.

“Dude, why don’t you let loose a bit?” A classmate said to their friend and began shaking their shoulders.

“I can’t! You know how my mom is about my grades right now…” He mumbled, embarrassed.

The boy from earlier grabbed his basketball that rolled under his desk and bounced it around him.

“I know you want to play basketball right now, but that’s okay. I’ll just play with Jungwon and his friends.” He informed his friend, turning to look at Jungwon who wasn’t paying attention.

“Yo, Jungwon! Catch this!” He shouted, alerting both of his friends, but him.

He passed the ball, expecting Jungwon—or even Baekseung—to catch the ball, however, there was nothing.

Instead, the loud thud of a ball hitting your head, echoed throughout the classroom. At least, that managed to catch Jungwon’s attention.

Your pen fell out of your hand, landing on the desk. Your ears began to ring as frustration—and a bit of lightheadedness—took over your system.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” The classmate said, making his way over to you with a worried look.

It was only your second day and you were making enemies.

Yet, you couldn’t bother to accept his apology. You looked at him with a facial expression that not even his mom had ever given him. He was terrified.

“Does this classroom look like a circus to you?” You asked as a throbbing pain slowly began to settle in your head.

“Are you so unskilled that you can’t even hold a basketball properly? Actually, are you so childish to the point where you aren’t aware of classroom rules?”

The atmosphere of the classroom vastly shifted. It was quite intense and unsettling.

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water stunned by your words. He was speechless, how could he respond to that?

“Please leave me alone, you’d only be a distraction to my studies.” With that said, you returned to your work, acting as if the boy in front of you didn’t exist.

Jungwon’s brows furrowed at the sight, you were being so mean and for what?

The boy shamefully walked back to his seat as all his friends held in their laughs. He was already embarrassed enough, their laughs only adding to the fire.

Forget what Jungwon said about you being heaven-sent, the Devil must’ve sent you instead. He swore if he stared even longer, horns would grow on your head at any given moment.

So, he looked away and continued taking his notes.

“She seems mean,” Baekseung whispered to the two around him. Minji nodded in agreement, mentioning how she got chills from how you stared at the boy.

You proceeded to rub at your temples in an attempt to force away the throbbing migraine coming your way. You couldn’t take a break from studying.

You had to finish reviewing this material before anything at all—not even a meal break was allowed in your Book of Rules.

“What do you guys want to do for lunch?” Baekseung asked, gaining Jungwon and Minji’s attention again.

“I heard they’re going to play Basketball in the gym. You two should play as well!” Minji exclaimed, which only resulted in Jungwon’s head perking up at the sport.

“I’m down,” Jungwon said almost immediately. Baekseung and Minho’s eyebrows rose at his quick decision. It was almost as if he wasn’t studying his butt off while ignoring his two chattery friends a moment ago.

“Are you sure? I thought you had to revise your notes.” Baekseung verbalised his confusion as Jungwon began packing up his belongings.

“I already understand everything. A + B = X times 6–”

“Okay! Okay. No more Math, please.” Baekseung was quick to halt Jungwon’s equation with his index finger. He slowed down his pace when zipping up his backpack, taking in the words Baekseung uttered before.

A smile made its way to the boy’s face at the realisation of his friend's confusion. Baekseung definitely had no clue what they were learning in class.

“Hurry! I don’t want to be late for team decisions.” He exclaimed, hopping off of the desk he sat on.

Jungwon waved off his friend’s pestering and walked out of the classroom, the two trailing behind him.

You, on the other hand, struggled to focus on your work. The whole classroom was quiet and you were the only one left. Everyone had left for lunch, but you.

Yes, you loved quiet, however your migraine didn’t. The accompanied silence only made your migraine throb even more, a faint mic feedback noise to back it up.

Almost like you had a fever.

You placed your pencil down beside your notebook on your desk and stood up from your seat.

A quick stop at the nurse's office wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? It would benefit your studying session and get rid of your pain quite easily.

That was the only exception to your Book of Rules when it came to studying. Nothing else.

Jungwon shot the ball into the hoop, his hair and necktie flowing with his every movement. His uniform sleeves were rolled up, cuffed around the skin above his forearm, helping his gameplay style quite well.

Baekseung smiled at his friend, high-fiving him in the process.

“Nice one! They won’t beat us at this rate.” He said, looking at the scoreboard that read 17-9. Maybe he wasn't exaggerating it like every other time.

Jungwon grinned, his dimples showing faintly. It wasn’t an all-tooth grin, more toothless. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his cheekbones were nearing his under eyes. It was enough to show his appreciation for his friend’s compliment.

His forehead was becoming a slightly sweaty state, causing his previously parted bangs to clump together and loosely stick to the damped skin.

There were 8 more points until the match was done. They didn’t have much time to play 4 full quarters, so they made a bet; first to 25 wins.

Sadly, no rewards could have been won by the players, making this Basketball game more enjoyable than competitive.

Jungwon didn’t have enough time though, he would almost need to return to studying quite soon. Seriously, he couldn’t fall behind someone like you.

“Baek,” Jungwon whispered, hoping it was enough to gain his friend’s attention who stood across from him on the court, but it wasn’t enough at all.

“Baekseung!” Jungwon called while raising his voice a bit over his usual tone. The said boy looked over with widened eyes in shock.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Jungwon said, fighting back a snicker at his friend’s startled state.

“Well, I have to go now. Tell Min I said bye too.” He said and walked past Baekseung, patting his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye.

As he walked out of the gymnasium doors, he shook his head, causing his hair strands to move around, some still sticking on his forehead.

He stretched his limbs and began revising the lesson from earlier.

The hallways were empty, leaving him with more of a quiet atmosphere to focus on his thoughts.

Jungwon’s lips moved, soft whispers of equations and problems leaving them. If there were other people here, they would give him the dirtiest looks right now. He most definitely looked psychotic.

Luckily, there wasn’t anyone. Yet.

The sound of the door sliding shut caught his attention and he looked up to see where it came from.

The nurse’s office was always a popular spot in their school, so it wasn't a shock that someone was leaving the room at this exact moment.

Surprisingly, it was a shock to him. He never thought you were the type to leave your desk ever.

Your brows furrowed at the sight before you.

A sight of disgust.

Yang Jungwon was the last person you wanted to see with your throbbing migraine. He was all sweaty, his hair glistened from the sweat droplets that stuck onto the strands, his necktie was loose, his uniform was dishevelled, and his face was a light shade of red due to the hotness of the gymnasium.

He looked disgusting.

Jungwon had no clue as to why you were glaring at him. He wasn’t the reason you ended up visiting the nurse’s office, so why were you giving him such a dirty look?

He should be the annoyed one at this exact moment. After all, you were the one who moved to Earl View Academy and ruined his ‘perfect’ life.

He looked back at you with a confused yet irritated expression on his features as the two of you stood in silence.

Jungwon’s eyes looked over your appearance, noticing how your hand was propped against your chest and holding an item he had seen before.

Your eyes followed his gaze and then widened at realisation. Out of reflex, you hid the painkillers behind your back, not wanting to come off as weak towards him.

You couldn’t let him see you as someone who wasn’t that much of a threat to his academic success.

In silence, you turned around, moving the pill bottle to your chest again, and made your way back to the classroom. For some reason, your movements aggravated Jungwon’s previous calm state.

God, he hated you so much. He couldn’t believe he once thought you were pretty—it would be a lie if he said he still didn’t. That didn’t matter though, you could be pretty and still have a snotty attitude.

That was a perfect description for you.

Although you thought you left Jungwon behind in front of the nurse’s office, to your dismay, you didn’t.

There he was, standing at the doorway of your once previous quiet study room—or in other words, your homeform classroom.

You rolled your eyes after noticing him at the doorway and looked back at your notes.

He ignored your response to his presence and took a seat at his desk near the window. Jungwon slipped his hand into his backpack, grabbing his pencil case and notebook in the process.

A tense silence followed the two of you as you flipped your pages in sync and continued writing down more things in sync.

You were pausing more than he was due to the pain in your head which only slowed down your movements even more. Yes, you planned on taking the painkillers, but not when he was around.

Still, you couldn’t hold back. You had to do it or else you wouldn’t be able to study one bit.

Although the painkillers mentioned eating a meal before intaking the pills, you refused to follow the instructions. You had no time to take a break and find something to fill your stomach, especially when you were already falling behind Jungwon’s studying pace.

You reached for your bottle of water off your desk and popped a pill in your mouth, scarfing down water right after.

Jungwon looked up at the sound of pills shaking in a bottle. It was obvious it came from you, you were the only other person in the classroom.

It seemed like the basketball to your head earlier really took a toll on you. He didn’t blame you though, it truly did sound like it hurt.

Except, that wasn’t the only thing he noticed. Even if he was in one place all lunch, it seemed like you didn’t leave your seat at all. It was kept the exact same like he last saw it before lunch time.

Luckily, the sound of your stomach growling was enough to answer his unsaid question as he watched your ears turn a shade of red.

As much as you tried to pretend that didn’t happen, you were tremendously embarrassed. Still, you couldn’t eat.

Not yet at least.

“You didn’t hear that.” You mumbled, hoping it was loud enough for Jungwon to catch. He hummed in response while eyeing his work, not paying much attention to your silly incident.

He knew how embarrassing it could have been, so it was best not to engage.

Thankfully, God was on your side, ringing the bell a few seconds after Jungwon had hummed.

Soon after, students began flooding into the classroom and heading to their seats in loud crowds.

Therefore, your quiet time with the last person you wanted to spend it with, had ended.

RANK THREE.

“Jungwon and (Name), please come up and answer the questions on the board.”

Great.

It was only 10:30 AM on a Wednesday, and yet you were already going head-to-head with your rival.

Jungwon confidently made his way to the chalkboard and picked up a piece of chalk from the ledge.

You, on the other hand, paused for a moment after getting up from your seat. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, and that was never a good sign.

However, if you didn’t make it over fast enough, he would for sure beat you in a blink. And so, you did. You rushed over and picked up a chalk stick, then began writing.

It was a simple equation to you, but to everyone else who didn’t understand the lesson, it wasn’t. It was way more complex to them than how it really was.

Jungwon was already halfway through answering the question whilst you haven’t even started. You wrote the given values on the side to keep track of the numbers you would use.

Easy, right?

Not quite.

You couldn’t focus at all even if there were no distractions nor was it loud in your classroom.

The only thing you could hear was the harsh sounds of Jungwon pressing his chalk against the board after he reached a new step.

Your ears became sensitive to any sound, causing you to even take note of the rhythm his piece of chalk followed when gliding against the blackboard. It was irritating you and annoying.

As much as you wanted to stop him from writing, you couldn’t because it was impossible. Your hand wouldn’t move one bit. Your vision became blurry, eyes fluttering shut and opening in a pattern.

“I think I’m going to faint.” You whispered, your words falling deaf on all ears, aside from Jungwon’s.

He didn’t pay much attention to your sentence, brushing it off as a dumb remark about his handwriting or something.

Truthfully, his calligraphy wasn’t the best when it came to using chalk, so you wouldn’t be wrong if you were to say something mean about it. He would only end up agreeing in the end.

Everything stilled for a brief moment before you lost your feeling in your hands, dropping the piece of chalk you held, and falling against the hardwood floor right after.

Gasps were emitted from your classmates—ones you couldn’t even hear—as Jungwon stilled his movements at the loud thud which caused him to flinch slightly.

Jungwon looked down as he still pressed the chalk on the board, his eyes widening and blood draining from his face at the sight.

“(Name)?” Your teacher called, hurriedly making her way towards your unconscious figure. However, there was no response.

“Hey, Jungwon, you were on the track team last year, right?” Ms. Ling asked as he nodded, swallowing and hoping the nauseated feeling in his stomach would disappear.

Spoiler alert—it didn’t.

“Could you run her to the nurse’s office, please?” She asked, leaving the boy with no other choice but to say yes. If he were to say no, he would seem like a villain, and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Okay.” He mumbled and placed the chalk on the ledge before crouching down, slipping an arm under your legs, and wrapping one around your back for extra support.

To his surprise, you were awfully light. A little too light for an average person. It was quite concerning.

Jungwon shook his head, making all his thoughts disappear in the process. He had no time to waste, he had to get you to the nurse’s office quickly—his teacher’s words, not his.

He slid open the door with his foot, shocked that he even managed to succeed himself, and placed you on an unoccupied bed.

Mrs. Oh, the nurse, emerged from her office with a concerned look after noticing the rush Jungwon was in.

“What’s wrong?” She asked before seeing you who lied unconsciously on the bed.

“She fainted a few moments ago in class.” He explained while running a hand through his hair, followed by a sigh.

“Fainted?” The nurse asked and made her way to your still figure, reaching out to touch your pulse points.

“I don’t think it’s a fatal issue. Just hang around for a bit, I’ll run some short tests then you can tell your teacher why she fainted.” Mrs. Oh said as Jungwon nodded.

He could just ask for the notes from Minji after class.

A few moments later, Mrs. Oh returned with a clipboard in her hand and a concerned look on her face.

“Is it bad?” Jungwon asked, slightly worried about her response.

“Oh, no.” Mrs. Oh said, reassuring the boy, then opened her mouth to say something else.

“Thing is, she hasn’t eaten for the last two days.”

What?

RANK FOUR.

Jungwon walked down the hallways of the school, heading to the vending machine nearby. Mrs. Oh’s words replayed in his head many times. It had been a day since your visit to the nurse’s office, but he was still hooked on Mrs. Oh’s discovery.

He didn’t know why he cared that you hadn’t eaten for two days. That was your problem not his.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel quite worried about your health. How the hell were you still at his level of academic achievements even if you weren’t eating to fuel your brain?

It was crazy. Not even he could survive an hour without a small snack to keep him going. So, how did you even manage to survive?

More of Mrs. Oh’s words flooded through Jungwon’s head, mainly focusing on the fact she put him in charge of making sure you were eating.

Was it not obvious you two hated each other? Well, maybe not since you were fast asleep, but to him it was.

What the hell was he supposed to do to monitor your food intake? Buy you snacks and drinks from the vending machines at their school?

Actually… that wasn’t such a bad idea. It could work for him, but would it work for you? Would you even accept his offers?

You were hard to work with in the first place. There was no way he would follow upon Mrs. Oh’s request. That was your problem and only yours. Not his.

Nevertheless, that didn’t explain the fact he was currently punching in the number two into the vending machine, expecting two granola bars to follow through the hole.

Of course, it wouldn’t be enough to fill him up this lunch, but he had no other choice. He was already exhausted enough from playing football outdoors, leaving him with no more energy to wait in line for food in the cafeteria.

He grabbed the granola bars and made his way to room 116—his home room.

He was excited for the peace and quiet he was about to experience. Nobody ever came to school this early. It was 7:30 AM after all.

School started at 8:20 AM.

If you were to show up at the bell, he could save the granola bar until lunch and give it to you when the room was empty.

Nobody could know that he was interacting with you, especially not after you two made it clear you wanted nothing to do with each other.

“Oh, hey, Jungwon! It’s been quite a bit since I saw you first thing in the morning.” A faculty member said, greeting the boy. He smiled at the teacher and nodded.

It wasn’t a lie. Jungwon always came early, yes, but he never went straight to class. He was either shooting hoops in the gym or doing his morning jog around the track in the field.

The September breeze blew the trees outside as Jungwon watched the leaves sway while walking to class. The windows in the hallways were wide, emitting a bright light into Earl View Academy.

It really suited the vibe he was going for.

But you didn’t.

Jungwon noticed your focused figure, his mood dropping immediately. He was glad you were okay, but not glad that you were in class.

He wanted alone time today, nothing else.

Jungwon put on a straight face, avoiding eye contact with you while walking to his seat. He swiftly placed the granola bar on your desk and moved away as if he didn’t.

You looked down at the granola bar, then to the boy who walked away in silence.

Before you could say anything, he was quick to silence your ‘irritating’ voice.

“Just eat it. Mrs. Oh is making me monitor your meals even if I don’t want to.”

He said without any other explanation. You looked back at the granola bar, hearing Jungwon sit down and begin opening his snack due to the loud rustling of the wrapper.

Instead of doing the same, you pushed the granola bar to the side and returned back to your studies. Once again, your ‘Book of Rules’ said no meals until you were done reviewing.

Jungwon opened his notebook, flipping through the filled pages to find an empty one and begin his studying. He was holding the granola bar in one hand and eating at the same time.

It wasn’t hard at all, which only confused him since you weren’t doing the same.

“Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, but you ignored him, staring into your notebook in silence.

The boy scoffed, looking out the window in disbelief. He doesn’t even know why Mrs. Oh trusted him with this ‘task’. He couldn’t say no though, he would have felt guilty to face her again.

Honestly, he was still shocked at the news from yesterday. What did she mean you didn’t eat for 2 days?

Was this an often routine of yours? Was that why you were so concerningly light when he carried you? You were always studying and never seemed like you took any breaks, which only left him wondering.

Seriously, did you ever eat?

“What?” You asked, stiffening and turning around to look at the bow. There was a look of annoyance present on your face, only causing Jungwon to stare back in confusion.

“What?” He questioned back. Why were you looking at him like that even after you blatantly ignored him a moment ago?

“Why is it your business if I ever eat or not?”

Hold on. Did Jungwon think aloud earlier? Was that why you were acting this way?

“I…” He said, fumbling over his words. Truly, how should he respond to that? You weren’t wrong about it not being his business to care—even if you didn’t say that.

He didn’t want to care if you did or not. Still, he couldn’t explain why he was so curious about it.

“Mrs. Oh told me in the nurse’s office that you fainted because your last meal was two days ago…” Jungwon began as your brows furrowed.

“So? Why should you care if that were to happen or not?” You asked.

Once again, you weren’t wrong.

“You’re telling me, you wouldn’t be a little bit concerned about someone who hadn’t eaten for 2 days?”

“If it was part of my business, sure, but if it’s not, then no.”

Jungwon pursed his lips, unsure of what to say next. He tried to think of it, but it ended up coming out on his own. He would definitely regret this later.

“Why?” He started.

“Why do you do that?”

You remained silent and so did he. There was an obvious tension in the air and the both of you felt it easily.

You averted your eyes away from his overpowering gaze, suddenly feeling all fragile due to his sudden question.

“Mind your own business.” You mumbled before turning around to face your desk again.

Normally, you’d return to studying immediately, but this time you were quiet as you stared at your notebook.

You always had answers for questions. Always. However, nobody had ever asked you a question like that, and for some reason, you couldn’t find an answer for it.

Jungwon sighed and shook his head. He didn’t blame you for not answering and getting all defensive instead. It was a question that could pry into anyone’s private life, and obviously, you two were nowhere near a basis like that.

“At least eat the granola bar. I don’t want Mrs. Oh on my ass about anything.” He said before picking up his pencil and writing on his plain notebook.

At the sound of his words, your gaze shifted to the pink wrapper on the granola, noticing how it was strawberry flavoured, one of your favourites.

Maybe you could reconsider eating the snack he got you even if it was going against your rules. It was obvious he wouldn’t leave you alone if you didn’t.

You unwrapped the granola bar, making sure to not crush the treat inside as the bell went so suddenly.

You were both shocked at how much time went past at such a fast pace as a certain thought crossed your mind.

It was time to start another school day.

RANK FIVE.

Ever since that day, Jungwon continuously dropped you off snacks in a discreet manner.

Although you never wanted to eat them, he made you. Your secret rule was slowly being forgotten because of his actions.

“Hey,” he called from his window seat, causing you to remove an earbud from your ear.

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“Why?”

Jungwon stared at you in silence. Were you really asking him that question?

“So I don’t get you anything that’ll kill you…” He said in a tone of disbelief, but you didn’t react.

“Why are you still doing this? Mrs. Oh must’ve forgotten about my visit by now. You can stop.”

You turned away and continued writing in your notebook, leaving Jungwon baffled.

He hated how you were never wrong. Mrs. Oh definitely forgot about your visit from a few weeks ago, but Jungwon couldn’t stop his habit of giving you snacks.

Why?

“You’re telling me you rather faint continuously?” Jungwon asked, halting the hand that went to put your earbud in your ear.

“That’s not a healthy habit. Seriously, you’re going to end up visiting the ER next.”

“As if that hasn’t happened before.” You mumbled and successfully put your earbud in your ear.

Jungwon’s face contorted in confusion, unsure of what you had said. It didn’t seem like the remark he expected, but he shrugged it off.

Whatever.

“Jungwon!” Baekseung exclaimed, running up to the boy and hugging him from behind.

Jungwon stumbled over his feet at the sudden embrace as Minji chuckled from behind the two.

“You’re acting like you haven’t seen him in a decade.” She said, crossing her arms once she reached them.

The hallway they stood in was empty—aside from the 3 being there.

Jungwon wasn’t even aware that he was in the hallway at the moment. His mind was elsewhere when he left the classroom.

Yes, he said he didn’t care about what you said, but he secretly did.

Did he hit a nerve or did he hit one of your soft spots? For the last few weeks, it was obvious there was a lot to you that nobody knew of, yet, Jungwon was close to finding them out.

He felt bad due to your reaction from earlier and a few days ago. Maybe he should really watch what he says from now on.

“What’s up? Do you have your head up in the clouds or something?” Baekseung asked, teasingly.

Jungwon shook out of his thoughts and looked at the boy.

“That was terrible. Never say that again.” He said, causing Baekseung to frown and Minji to laugh.

“Still, he’s right. What’s up with you lately?” Minji asked.

The three walked down the hallways, passing time before their next period started.

“What do you mean what’s up with me?” He asked, confused at their questions.

“You’re constantly spacing out today. Plus, you’re never running or playing basketball outside in the mornings either. I haven’t seen you for a bit every time I arrive at school.” Baekseung explained.

“Dude!” He exclaimed, tapping Jungwon’s shoulder to bring him back from his trance.

Jungwon looked over at Baekseung, startled from the harsh tap.

“What was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“You were doing it again. Seriously, what’s up with you?”

The three remained silent upon Baekseung’s question; Minji and Baekseung waited for Jungwon’s response while he thought of one.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Is it her?” Minji asked, chiming into Jungwon’s thoughts.

“Your rival.” She added after seeing Jungwon’s confused face.

He didn’t reply to her question, instead he stayed quieter than ever. Not a peep came out of his mouth. They were almost sure he stopped breathing too.

“So it is! I knew it. Pay up, Baekseung.” Minji said with a bright smile on her face while holding her hand out in front of Baekseung.

Baekseung frowned, glaring at Jungwon as he reached into his pocket for the 10 dollar bill he promised Minji. She looked at the buck, facing the light in case it was fake.

“It’s not fake!” He exclaimed as she chuckled.

“You never know.” Minji said and slipped the $10 into her pocket.

“Wait, you guys placed a bet on me?” Jungwon asked in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. I bet that you liked (Name) and Baekseung said you were just hooked on your university applications.” Minji said, leaning closer to Jungwon.

“He knows nothing about love.”

“I do!” Baekseung blurted, embarrassed at Minji’s remark. She looked over at her and shushed him with a finger on his lip.

“No, you don’t. Just accept that.”

Jungwon shook his head, still shocked at what his friends managed to do. Why would he even be hooked on his university applications if he was 100 percent sure he’d get accepted?

Plus, liking you was definitely out of his range. Wait, liking you?

“I don’t like her! What made you ever think that?!” He exclaimed, his hands flying up in defence.

“Yes. Yes, you do. Don’t fear it, Jungwon.”

Minji looked over at the boy with a teasing smile. Jungwon was a little terrified at the look Minji gave him with her finger still over Baekseung’s lips.

She truly seemed psychotic.

He began speed walking away from the two with hopes that he could escape the so-called assumptions. How would Minji know he liked you before he even knew himself?

Pfft, she was completely wrong.

Jungwon looked at the board, writing his last bits of notes with small diagrams to go along with them.

He was starving, but luckily, lunch was soon.

Speaking of lunch, he wondered what snack he should bring you today. You refused to tell him what you were allergic to, so he couldn’t just get you anything.

He looked up from his notebook, stealing a glance at your seat.

Well, he thought it was your seat, but instead, there was someone slouched over the desk instead.

He continued looking around for you, maybe you switched seats without him knowing?

No, that couldn’t be it. He saw you in the same seat this morning before classes. So, was it really you who was slouched over the desk?

That was surprising. You were always the one to be over the top when it came to education, yet, here you were knocked out mid-lesson.

“For homework, please complete pages 4 and 6. Enjoy your day everyone!” The teacher said while closing their lesson planner and leaving the classroom.

The bell sounded, signalling that lunch had begun while Baekseung and Minji took that as a chance to bother their friend, Jungwon.

“Hey!” Baekseung cheered, sitting down on the window sill like always.

Jungwon looked up at the boy with a smile as Minji turned around in her seat.

“Seems like you don’t have much of a competition anymore.” She said, silently hinting at the girl who was fast asleep—you.

Not even the bell woke you up. You must’ve had a rough night then.

Even if it had been 5 seconds since Minji spoke, Jungwon’s eyes never left you. He was genuinely concerned for your wellbeing.

“Baekseung, didn’t you say you wanted to go to the fast food restaurant nearby for lunch today?” Minji asked, looking up at the boy who stared back in confusion.

“What—”

Minji silenced him with a light slap on his leg, sending him a glare and mouthed the words ‘play along.’

“Oh, yeah! I’ve been craving a burger all day.” Baekseung blurted while nonchalantly rubbing on his leg and dragging out the word ‘all.’

“Jungwon, did you want anything from the fast food restaurant?” Minji asked and looked at him.

But he was still stuck in his trance.

“We’ll get him fries.” She whispered to the boy on the window sill. The two left as quietly as they could, leaving you and Jungwon alone in the classroom.

He observed your silent state, watching how your back raised softly as you breathed. The sunlight from the windows shined on your face, making your eyelashes more visible than others.

You looked so peaceful and so relaxed. It was the first time he had ever seen you this calm and not stuffing your head in your notebooks, rubbing at your temples in a stressful way, harshly sighing and placing your pencil down when you were feeling tired or didn’t understand the formula. It was a great sight.

Jungwon was so focused on you that he didn't notice the smile on his face.

He was smiling because of his arch nemesis. Well, could he even call you his arch nemesis if he cared about you so much?

Probably not.

The vending machine beeped as the four items hit the bottom of it. Jungwon reached down to grab the items and made his way back to class.

Was he out of his mind for still getting you snacks? Possibly. But he couldn’t stop himself, it became a habit of his.

At least you never wasted the snacks he got you. There was one point of the day where you would eat them casually, not even paying much attention to the item in your hold. It became a habit of yours too.

Eventually, the rule became forgotten, but only at school. It still affected you at home.

You woke up in a panic. The classroom you sat in was empty, just like your notebook. The one you significantly chose for the subject.

You looked around, eyes squinting at the bright light from the uncovered windows, taking in the fact nobody—not even Jungwon—was with you.

Great. You were so behind—something you hated.

You panicked, looking at the board to only be met with erase marks of today’s lesson. There was no way you could scavenge with something so little.

Out of habit, you looked down at your desk and rubbed at your temples with your fingers, more stressed out than ever.

You couldn’t fall behind nor could you fail. That was your worst nightmare. Did your parents care if you were to fail a class or fall behind? Not at all. They only cared about you and your health, yet you hated that.

Honestly, growing up, you tended to be naturally good at the things you did. Your parents were, of course, super proud of you, but you didn’t think it was enough.

You never thought anything was enough.

So, studying continuously, fainting continuously, and even starving yourself continuously became a natural routine of yours just to seek academic validation.

If you weren’t at the top of your class or your studies, you weren’t sure how your future would turn out. You would probably end up lower than ever.

No wonder you were so frustrated with yourself. How could you slack off, let alone fall asleep all class? That was so not like you.

You were very disappointed.

The feeling of a sudden coldness on your arm made you jolt. You looked up, wondering where it came from, only to notice the boy who stood before you, Yang Jungwon.

You both looked into each other’s eyes—for the first time, you weren’t glaring. Your vision was quite blurry because of the tears that threatened to fall while he could see you perfectly fine.

He nonchalantly placed the beverage on your desk followed by the poptart. He then made his way to his seat and sat down silently.

You stared at the two items on your desk, holding back your tears. There was nothing about the bottled coffee or the poptart that made you emotional, it was yourself and Jungwon.

You were jealous of him.

The more you attended Earl View Academy, the more you noticed how everyone adored the boy. Everyone, including staff members.

He made friends quite easily and got along with anyone possible.

However, you were the complete opposite. You had your own circle which consisted entirely of yourself and your studying materials, nothing else.

You rarely conversed with anyone, but when you did, it was always harsh. Things easily ticked you off, causing you to confront the so-called things pretty quickly.

Due to this, you were never envisioned as someone who was approachable. Even if you were on top of your studies and understood everything going on, not even many teachers took a liking to you.

It was rare to see one that did.

There were a few times where you tried to maintain certain friendships, but they all ended quite fast. Their reasonings were always the same—you never had time to hang out with them, but you always had time to study.

They eventually fell tired of you and left you behind to befriend someone else. They always regretted even trying something with you because it always turned out to be a ‘waste of their time.’

Jungwon placed his opened notebook on your desk so you could copy down the notes he took in class.

“The homework is page 4 and 6 today. If you don’t understand anything, I could explain it to you if you want.” He said before walking back to his seat.

He shouldn’t be this helpful to you. You two were ‘rivals’ after all—something you both silently yet mutually agreed on. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help himself. Even the sight of your tear filled eyes managed to make him feel a bit hurt.

He probably wasn’t even the cause of it, yet he felt like he was.

“How do you do it?” You asked, catching him off guard. He looked up from his phone and at the back of your head because you refused to face him in such a vulnerable state.

“Do what? Oh, the work? Hold on, let me—”

“Not that.” You said, interrupting him as he halted in his tracks.

“…Then what?” He asked hesitantly. He genuinely had no clue what you meant. Either Jungwon couldn’t read between the lines, or he was just too stupid.

“How do I be like you?”

RANK SIX.

Jungwon stood in silence, stunned at your sudden question. He was never asked such a thing from someone like you.

Children were always the one to ask him that exact question, which only left him with one possible answer every time.

“You’re already like me. Smart and strong.”

It was very cringey, but every child felt confident after hearing his words. Still, you were nowhere near a child, so how could he respond to your question?

“What do you mean?” Was all he could think of. He didn’t want you to seem weak or anything, so he kept it simple and short.

Maybe an elaboration would help him with an answer next time.

“You’re so… perfect. All staff members and students adore you, or even look up to you. You always balance your time, making enough space to hangout with your friends and study at the same time. You’re athletic, smart, most likely a great son, and your parents are probably so proud of you for maintaining the top student rank continuously.” You ranted, leaving him flattered and quite flustered but confused at the same time.

“Perfect?” He asked, genuinely curious about what made you think that.

“Yes, you’re so perfect. I’m jealous of you.” You added, finishing off your sentence while turning to face him.

“You’re jealous of me?”

Truly, in Jungwon’s eyes there was nothing about him to be jealous of. He had his own ups and downs, but managed to keep his composure around his friends and many others.

“Honestly, (Name), you’re fine the way you are. Yes, you have some unhealthy habits, but that doesn’t mean they can’t change.” Jungwon said while walking towards the seat in front of you.

“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect either. Of course, I’m going to sound a bit cringey, but all of us have things we don’t show. Like, I could’ve cried on my way to class.”

“Did you?”

“Did I do what?” Jungwon asked while taking a seat.

“Oh. No, that was just an example. I would never cry where people could see or hear.”

His eyes slightly widened as he raised his hands up in defence.

“I didn’t mean you shouldn’t! Do whatever you feel comfortable with.” He said, hoping he didn’t offend you.

You used your sleeves to wipe away the few tears that managed to fall, then looked at the boy in front of you.

“I don’t know why I’m about to tell you this, but I really need to get it off my chest.”

“Go on,” Jungwon said in a soft voice.

Although he waited for you to speak, you hesitated. Could you even trust him? You two started off as rivals, and still were rivals, but didn’t show it as much.

Whatever, speaking your mind wouldn’t hurt.

“Honestly, it’s not that I need to be on top of my work for my parents to adore me, they do. They very much do and show it every day, but it’s me who thinks it is not enough.” You said.

“I believe if I’m distracted, I won’t be able to achieve my academic goals to the fullest, you know?”

Jungwon nodded even if he didn’t get what you meant. He understood achieving your academic goals, but not to the point where he couldn’t do so if he were distracted.

“I mean, yeah, but considering eating meals or taking breaks as a distraction isn’t good for your mental health—or your health in general,” Jungwon explained as your eyes narrowed.

“Are you scolding me right now?”

“Quite literally.”

You rolled your eyes at Jungwon’s words, waving them off as if they meant nothing.

“Pretend this didn’t happen. Tell anyone, and I’ll make sure your life in Earl View Academy is almost unbearable.” You threatened, sending daggers at the boy.

“How so?” He asked, curious as to what tricks you could pull.

“I’ll beat you on every test, I’ll beat you on the final exam, and even make sure you don’t get accepted into University of Seoul.”

“Okay… However, in return, you have to at the very least tell me what you’re allergic to.” Jungwon said with pleading eyes.

You were shocked that was all he wanted in return. He really wanted to know what you were allergic to, but why? What good would that bring him if he knew what you could and couldn’t eat?

“Why are you so curious about that?”

“Dude, you really want me to end up killing you?” His words sounded like he was joking, but he wasn’t.

“No… I could just eat what I know I can and what I know I can’t.”

Jungwon continued to stare at you, waiting for you to give him the actual answer he wanted. You sighed and gave into his silent begs.

“There’s nothing.”

He remained quiet, his head tilting like a lost cat.

“There’s nothing that I’m allergic to. I’ll eat anything.” You informed the boy as he held back a smile.

“Perfect.” He whispered before grabbing the notebook he gave you earlier.

“What do you mean by perfect?” You asked, causing Jungwon to glance at you with a slight smile on his lips.

“You’ll see.”

RANK SEVEN.

To be honest, yesterday you went home wondering what Jungwon was hinting at.

He pretended as if he had never brought up anything and proceeded to teach you today’s materials. It was annoying.

Yes, you wanted to know badly, but begging wouldn’t even get him to tell you anything.

You adjusted your name tag while looking in the mirror, wondering what else you should fix up.

There was 5 minutes before you had to leave for school. Five minutes before you would get to see Jungwon.

You had no clue why you were a bit excited to see him. Usually, you never were. It was weird.

Part of you was glad he listened to what you had to say yesterday, it felt nice to get it off your chest. However, the other part of you felt ecstatic and let your heart thump even at the thought of seeing the boy.

What happened to the part of you that deeply hated him?

You couldn’t start liking Jungwon. At least, not when there was a possibility that he still hated you or saw you like his competition.

Right?

Jungwon stretched his limbs before reaching down to tie his laces. It had been a while since he ran around the track in the morning. He wanted to see if he still had it in him.

He couldn’t let his stamina fall because of his so-called continuous studying habits. It was also a great way to get his mind off of things, for example, you.

After yesterday’s conversation, for some reason he felt terrible about what you said. Was it his fault? No. But obviously, there was a time and place where he was in the same boat as you.

Trust him, it wasn’t the best.

This morning, he woke up extra earlier than usual because he had a lot to do—cook. He hand picked a recipe he believed you both would enjoy, and cooked all morning so it was nice and fresh by lunch.

It was way better than constantly getting snacks from the vending machine. Now, you could actually gain nutrients while eating.

He was very excited.

But why? Why was he excited to share a meal with you? There wasn’t anything going on between, aside from your quiet studying times halfway through lunch, the conversation from yesterday, and the times you two have been paired up or went head-to-head in class.

Other than that, what was there to really be excited about?

Jungwon slowed down his pace, then leaned over while placing his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Or was he just excited to see you? What was the meaning of all this?

Were you the reason his heart raced as if he did his morning runs whenever he was in class? Were you the reason he was always planning what he wanted to buy the two of you on his way to school? He rarely ever did that when you didn’t attend Earl View Academy.

So, were you really the reason?

You took a seat at your desk, pulling out your studying equipment—a normal routine of yours. You always arrived at the same time, 7:30 AM, with Jungwon arriving a little after.

Shockingly, even with 5 minutes passing, he didn’t appear. That was odd, he was always on time.

You shook your head, brushing off the fact he hadn’t arrived yet. The things he taught you yesterday were the only materials you had to review this morning.

You couldn’t fall behind so easily.

When you went home, you decided to take a break. A was a rare sight since you were always studying all night and all morning, nobody could stop you.

But for some reason, Jungwon was able to change part of your ‘unhealthy’ studying habits. At your old school, it was impossible for that to happen. Not even your short-term friendships changed anything.

It was the same old ‘Book of Rules’ you followed with no updates.

The door slid open, showcasing an exhausted Jungwon. He walked over to the seat in front of you and placed the two snacks in an empty spot on your desk then took a seat.

It wasn’t at his actual desk, instead, it was the one in front of you.

“Why do you seem so tired?” You asked, noticing his droopy eyes.

“I ran around the track today. It’s been a while since I’ve done it, so I guess I pushed my limits.” He explained while yawning. He stretched his arms before examining your desk; there was a partially empty space at the edge of your desk.

It looked like it could fit most of his arms and head.

“Can I?” He questioned while gesturing at the spot from earlier. You nodded, not giving him any other reaction.

Your heart was already racing from the ‘close’ proximity he provided. You had to keep it lowkey.

“Thanks. Wake me up a few minutes before the bell.” He said and dozed off to dreamland.

The classroom fell silent, the only thing being heard was the rustling leaves from the wind that travelled through the sky, your pencil gliding on the piece of paper you wrote on, sounding like music to Jungwon’s ears.

It was a relaxing sound. Not even close to irritating.

There were moments where you snuck in a few glances, noticing the way his face looked peaceful and less irritating than when he was wide awake. His breathing was at a usual pace as his back rose and fell at his command.

He was quite the pretty sleeper.

The formula of your work suddenly started to not make any sense. You searched the article you were looking at, realisation only hitting you a bit after.

You were working on your English, not Math. No wonder your formulas weren’t making any sense. Clearly, with how close Jungwon was to you, it was obvious you couldn’t think straight.

How often did someone mix up English work with Mathematics? It was never that often, and yet, you still managed to make the mistake.

You picked up your highlighter, forgetting about the embarrassing situation from earlier, and began highlighting simple concepts that you would need to remember when answering the questions.

Without you knowing, 30 minutes of silence passed between the two of you. You were surprised he didn’t wake up from the sound of your beating heart, because to you, it was quite loud.

You hesitated on waking up the boy in front of you. He was sound asleep. What if he woke up cranky?

Still, he requested for you to wake him up a few minutes before the bell. He wouldn’t be mad if you did so, right?

You softly placed your hand on his shoulder and gently shook him at a slow pace. There wasn’t much momentum, however, it was still enough to wake him up.

His eyes slowly opened, eyeing the area he sat in.

He could barely see, eyes still blurred with his sleepiness. Jungwon blinked a few times before looking in front of him, spotting your shocked figure.

“Morning.” He mumbled, his words cutting short because of a yawn. He stretched his arms before looking over at the clock.

It was only 8:20 AM. It always shocked you how students weren’t filling up the classroom around this time. They always arrived at least 5 minutes before the bell. Even if it was shocking, it was quite satisfying how everyone was still on time.

“What’re you working on?” Jungwon asked, slightly curious about the reason you held a highlighter.

“English,” you muttered. He hummed at your words and continued to inspect your desk.

“You didn’t eat?” He asked, pointing at the neatly kept snacks. It looked the same as when he first gave you them.

You shook your head. You completely forgot about the snacks. Instead, you were more focused on calming your racing heart, so it wouldn’t have woken him up.

“Eat. At least three pieces before the lesson starts.” He said. The snacks he brought the both of you were a small packet of animal crackers. One of Jungwon’s favourites as a child.

You paused for a moment, debating if you should follow through with his request. He was staring at you, once again, causing you to feel fragile under his gaze. There was no way he would stop if you didn’t eat.

You placed your highlighter down and grabbed one of the two packets. Hopefully, that would help his strong state.

Honestly, you couldn’t help but feel taken care of because of Jungwon’s acts. Your parents were amazing to you. There was no doubt about it. Still, with Jungwon, there was a new feeling you’ve never felt with anyone else.

At your old school, you wouldn’t even have a chance at something like this. If you fainted, there was only a tiny bit of shock from others. It happened very often because of your bad habits that it became so natural to those who studied and worked there.

But if you were to faint around Jungwon or anyone else in this school, they would be very worried. The nurse at Earl View Academy even instructed Jungwon to watch over your eating habits.

At first, you didn’t like the idea of having a so-called babysitter, but eventually it felt nice to know someone possibly cared about you. He started off as your number one threat, and became the person you looked forward to seeing most.

To him, you started off as someone he could never trust and his one and only arch nemesis, and became the person he watched over and enjoyed being around.

Well, look how the tables turned.

“Also,” Jungwon said, chiming into your thoughts. Your attention was then focused onto the boy who stood up from his previous seat with his animal crackers in hold.

“You’re doing great.” He said as the bell rang as if it were completing his sentence.

He sat in his assigned seat at the window while students began filling up the classroom. Maybe they were a little delayed today, but your heart for sure wasn’t.

You were concerned as to why Jungwon’s words had such an effect on your wellbeing, judging from how fast your heart rate was going.

You didn’t even know it was possible to experience such a rush of adrenaline. Your face felt warm as you recalled his words.

Was he perhaps referring to yesterday’s incident?

No matter what the reason was, you’ve never been told something like that. It was always about taking a break and slowing your pace. Even mentioning how you were trying too hard and needed to pay more attention to yourself.

But the words ‘you’re doing great’ were different. It felt like they were filling a void in your life that you didn’t even know existed.

Whatever it was, you were thankful.

Thankful for Jungwon.

Jungwon watched as the ball ricocheted off the rim of the net, sighing in disappointment.

“Gosh, straighten up.” Baekseung said and tossed the ball back to his friend.

The trio stood inside the empty gymnasium, shooting hoops for fun, until it became serious. Baekseung was quite literally concerned for Jungwon’s wellbeing.

He was missing every one of his shots.

“You do remember he did Track and not Basketball like you, Baek, right?” Minji asked while flipping through the pages of her book.

“I mean, yeah, but he’s never this bad.” Baekseung replied, emphasising his words.

“I’m literally right here.”

“Oh, my bad.”

Minji chuckled at the two, looking away at her book while placing a bookmark between the two pages she stopped on.

“Won, what’s on your mind?” She asked.

Great, here comes round two.

“I swear we didn’t put a bet on anything this time. Feel free to tell us anything.”

Jungwon sighed, letting himself loose. It was now or never. He needed to settle things, so he could peacefully continue along with his day.

So…

“How would you confirm your feelings for someone?”

RANK EIGHT.

Minji blinked her eyes in silence as Baekseung held the basketball in his hand with a dropped jaw.

Judging by their reactions, it was obvious they didn’t know what to say, leaving Jungwon feeling embarrassed.

“Nevermind, forget I said that.”

“No, no.” Minji said, shaking her head.

“We were just… stunned, that’s all.” She reassured Jungwon who’s ears turned a light shade of red out of embarrassment.

“Is this about a particular someone?” Minji questioned, slightly wanting it to be you.

She had been noticing the difference between Jungwon’s behaviour now and the first time you arrived. Nowadays, he was always looking at you with adoration in his eyes instead of an intense glare.

It was definitely different between you two.

“You know who it is, don’t you?” Jungwon asked, judging by her expression. It looked like she was holding off on saying something. She was terrible at hiding her expressions.

“Wait, I’m so confused,” Baekseung chimed in, dropping the basketball and making his way closer to the two.

“It’s (Name), right? The atmosphere between you two is so much different than before.”

Jungwon remained quiet upon Minji’s words. She wasn’t wrong, but she was very observant. Even Jungwon hadn’t noticed the change between you and him.

“Your silence is the only answer we need.” Baekseung said with a sly smile.

What? Who wouldn’t act the same way after finding out his best friend had a crush on someone?

“It is…” Jungwon mumbled.

“Okay. First question is… how do you feel when you’re near her?”

Oh.

Well, that could go a long way… There was at least a list of possible feelings, so where should he even start?

“Tingly. I feel tingly.” He said, recalling the moments he was with you.

To be honest, he was shocked you hadn’t realised how red the tip of his ears were when he fell asleep in front of you. It was almost an impossible process for him to sleep, but he managed.

“Sometimes, my ears become warm and my heart flutters at the sight of her smile or if I were to make her laugh…” He paused, thinking of more things to say.

“And—”

“Yeah, you definitely like her.” Baekseung interrupted with a shock yet disgusted look on his face.

“I do?” Jungwon asked, looking at the boy with wide eyes.

Baekseung nodded, causing him to look over at Minji who only did the same as Baekseung in return.

“Are you ever going to tell her?” Minji asked, opening up her book once again.

“I’d embarrass myself terribly. We’re still kinda rivals in some way. Wouldn’t it be weird if I were to suddenly confess my attraction to her?”

“Okay, Shakespeare, what the hell do you mean by attraction?” Baekseung asked as Minji chuckled.

“He means feelings, Baek.”

“Oh… That makes sense. I say do it, what is there to waste? You only live once.” He explained as Jungwon rolled his eyes.

It was a corny saying he had been told all his life, but they were never wrong. Things always turned out good for him if he at least tried them. Therefore, it wouldn’t hurt to profess his love for you, right?

“Jungwon, it’s 11:30, don’t you have to go now?” Minji questioned after checking the time on her phone.

“Ah, right. Thanks Min, thanks Baek.” He said before smiling at them and leaving.

To be honest, Jungwon was expecting a longer explanation to his feelings, but comparing these moments to a book, it was awfully obvious that he liked you. It must’ve flown past his head the first time.

You stared at the clock, awaiting Jungwon’s arrival. This was the first time you had caught yourself doing something like this. Usually, your head would be stuffed in your notebook right now, but after discovering these possible feelings for the boy you spend lunch with daily, things have changed.

Your habits must’ve been one of them.

There were moments where you glanced at the door, hoping that he would appear after every glance, but he didn’t.

“Sorry.” A voice emitted from the doorway, heavy panting followed through. Your head whipped over, noticing the boy you were waiting for all this time. He looked up from the floor, making straight eye contact with you.

He was subtly sweaty, making it obvious that he ran here. Yes, it was a disgusting look, but to you…

He looked disgustingly handsome. It was odd, very odd, that the look made your heartbeat race. You couldn’t deny it, you definitely liked Jungwon.

“You’re late.” You said in a teasing tone. You could care less if he was late or not, but it was fun to joke around with him.

“I’m aware.” Jungwon joked back while walking towards his seat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked while reaching into his backpack. You stayed silent, not sure how to answer that question.

“Be honest.” He said in a serious tone and grabbed the meal he cooked this morning.

“A little bit.” You replied as he took a seat in front of you. You eyed the containers he placed on the empty space, causing you to move your notebooks aside to create more.

He opened the containers one-by-one, leaving you stunned with every single meal. Once he was left with one container, he looked up to see your reaction, smiling at your childish look.

“Does it look good?”

His question brought you out of your trance, causing you to straighten up immediately.

“Yes. It looks great.” You said as Jungwon chuckled at your response. You observed the 3 containers, noticing the different aspects of each; one had greens while the others didn’t.

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you liked greens, so I separated them just in case.” He explained while pointing at the container you stared at.

You nodded at his words and hummed in amusement. Maybe you were only a tad bit hungry before, but now, you were starving.

“You don’t have to wait for me, you can eat.” Jungwon said, gesturing at the meal in front of you two.

You looked at him once then down at the utensils, hesitantly reaching for a spoon. Jungwon picked up on this and grabbed your hand, flipping it over while grabbing the spoon that laid on the napkin. He then placed it into the palm of your hand and looked into your eyes.

“Don’t hesitate, it’s fine.” Jungwon said and flashed you a smile, his dimples catching your eyes immediately.

Well, maybe you weren’t hesitating on eating anymore, but you were definitely still hesitant about something…

Confessing your feelings to the boy before you.

Yeah, that could wait.

RANK NINE.

Two days ago, Jungwon had a talk with his two friends. He was reassured about his feelings for you, finalising them to a certain extent.

Today, he claimed he was ready to confess. He wouldn’t back away from doing so, and plus, there ‘wasn’t’ much time until graduation (it was 7 months away).

Of course, it was a lie. He had to make an excuse to be able to push himself to tell you how he really felt.

You, on the other hand, thought the same. But, you weren’t sure how you would approach him in a way where it wouldn’t be as awkward as you imagined.

Still, that would have to wait for the perfect time today. You couldn’t mess this up.

As your teacher spoke, your head became drowsy. Your notes seemed messy due to your eyesight blurring and nothing was comprehendible.

You shook your head, an attempt to regain your composure, but that didn’t work either.

“Okay, everyone. I’ll leave the rest of this period for individual work time.” Your teacher said even if there was only 5 minutes before lunch.

“Soccer today?” Baekseung asked Jungwon who wrote in his notebook.

He nodded at his friend’s request, causing the boy to smile. It had been a while since they went to play soccer and not basketball, so it would be quite fun to reminisce about the past.

The bell went, making 5 minutes feel like 30 seconds. To others it must’ve felt long, but to you, it felt short. You couldn’t focus on anything around you, not even the time. The throbbing headache that made its way into your system, as well as the nauseating feeling was all that occupied your mind.

Nothing else.

Not even the fact Jungwon was standing beside you right now.

“You alright?” He asked. You looked up at him, your head spinning at the movement. It was quiet in the classroom, hinting at the fact there was practically nobody left aside from the two of you.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lies. You were far from feeling ‘fine’. However, you couldn’t let him worry as much as he did about your eating habits.

You managed to flash him a convincing smile as he did the same. The gentle pat on your head before leaving felt comforting knowing it was from Jungwon and no one else.

“I’ll be back.” He said as he walked out the classroom, leaving you alone in silence.

You weren’t able to tell if the heat that crept up your neck was from his subtle action, or the developing fever that made its way towards you. Honestly, you could care less. It wouldn’t stop you from studying anyway.

And, well, maybe preparing your confession for the said boy.

The mesh of the net ricocheted as the ball glided against the barrier. The goalie was on the floor, the outcome of his failed attempt at blocking the ball.

“It’s okay! That was a good try.” A teammate reassured while helping the male up on his feet.

Once the ball was thrown into play, Baekseung scanned the area, searching for an open target to send the ball to. Teamwork was all that mattered when playing sports, so, why not include everyone even if he could shoot the ball himself?

You looked out the window, noticing the view of the many boys who kicked around a soccer ball. It wasn’t the best view, but you were still able to see a few faces—Jungwon’s especially.

Most of you wanted to get a closer look. It would be nice to take a short break from studying, right? It couldn’t hurt your academics that much…

You rose from your seat, head spinning once again. It was unbearable, but you’ve experienced worse.

See, you’ve definitely experienced worse. So, why were you on the verge of passing out, once again?

You stood in front of the window sill Jungwon’s friend, Baekseung, would always sit on. Your grip tightened the ledge, losing balance in your legs. Your vision became even blurry than before as your mind became foggy.

Yeah, you were definitely about to knock out cold. There was no way you would manage to stay conscious.

A moment after coming to terms with the fact you were about to faint, your body hit the floor, leaving the space between two desks occupied.

Your eyes were slowly closing as the warmth of a hand was placed on your face. Ears ringing, making anything that person said incoherent.

It was a terrible feeling. Maybe you should’ve gone to the nurse’s office at the beginning of your fever.

Yeah… Maybe.

“It’s 11:30, I have to go.” Jungwon said after checking the time on his watch. He waved goodbye to those he played with on the field, then looked at the classroom window, a smile making its way to his face.

Now it was time for 30 minutes with you.

But where were you? He scanned the empty classroom, yet you were nowhere to be found. Your stuff wasn't there either.

You weren’t there.

He was confused. You never left your seat, no matter the reason. So, where could you have gone?

Jungwon had no clue where he was going, letting his feet take him wherever. Suddenly, he was in front of the nurse’s office. Not even he knew why he was here.

Without hesitation, he slid open the door, a wave of nostalgia hitting him. Except, you weren’t in his arms like before.

“Oh, Jungwon. What brings you here?” Mrs. Oh greets almost immediately. That was a great question.

What brought him here?

“I’m not sure.” Jungwon said, not knowing what else to say. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t know.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, confused. That was the first time she received an answer like his.

The boy stared at the nurse in silence. It was awkward for her, but not for him.

Seriously, why was he brought here?

“Is… Is (Name) here?” He asked. Part of him regretted letting his so-called question slip out while the other part hoped you were here.

Other than that, he wouldn’t have any other ideas about where you could possibly be right now.

“Oh, yes, she is. Were you looking for her?” Mrs. Oh questioned, a slight smile plastered on her face.

Jungwon nodded, not wanting to say anything else. He already embarrassed himself enough.

He followed the direction the nurse pointed in, heading to where you were supposedly lying down.

“Apparently, she fainted in class again. One of your classmates brought her over… Turns out she had a raging fever.”

So, he wasn’t hallucinating the pained expression you gave him at the start of lunch.

At the sounds of his footsteps, you turned around fast, pretending to be asleep.

“I saw you.” Jungwon said, pulling your curtains aside.

“Nice try.” He took a seat beside you as you bit your bottom lip, eyes squinting in defeat.

“Are you feeling better?”

You turned around at his words to face him. The damped cloth that rested on your forehead slowly slipped off, causing him to catch it.

“A little bit.” You said as he adjusted the cloth.

You weren’t lying about it being a little bit. At least you were now able to move.

“Did you take medication?”

You nodded, noticing the fact he was only going to continue asking questions about your wellbeing.

“I heard you fainted… Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, the worry finally sinking in.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I got up to look out the window, but I guess I overestimated my ability.” You said with a light laugh.

“Why would you get up to look out the window if you were already feeling unwell?” He asked with furrowed brows.

It was only common sense, you should’ve made your way to the nurse's office. Not somewhere to admire scenery.

“Are you lecturing me, again?” You asked, referring to the conversation in the classroom from a while ago.

“Yes. You need to take care of yourself more.”

“But if I said I was trying to watch you play soccer, then what?”

Jungwon felt his heart skip a beat.

Okay. Maybe you got him there.

“T-That doesn’t matter. Your health comes first.” He mentally cursed at himself for stuttering. Your words must’ve taken a toll on him.

“You’re boring.” You said before looking away from the boy.

To be honest, this would be the best time to confess, right?

Mrs. Oh had left the office a while ago, meaning it was just the two of you left alone.

When would Jungwon ever get another opportunity like this one?

“Listen,” he started, gaining your attention all over again. You look over at him, waiting for him to continue his sentence.

“I know grades are important, but your health is too. Please prioritise your health as well, okay?” Jungwon paused, hesitating with his next words.

It was now or never.

“I don't want to fall in love with a corpse. It’ll be better if it were just you.”

You stared at the boy, stunned. You couldn’t tell if your temperature was rising or you were flustered by his sudden confession.

An awkward silence followed through, as he felt his heart sink.

Did he just mess everything up?

“Anyways… have you drank anything yet?” Jungwon asked, switching the topic really fast.

“No…” You whispered.

He nodded his head, pursing his lips and patted his thighs.

“Okay. I’ll go get you something.” He said before rising up from his seat and leaving quite fast.

You felt bad. If it were a confession, you just left him hanging.

Jungwon pushed the buttons on the vending machine with pressure. He was embarrassed.

Very embarrassed.

He didn’t want to show himself in that room ever again. The atmosphere was definitely still the same as before—awkward and unbearable.

Maybe he shouldn’t have taken his friend's advice. He could’ve saved himself from experiencing this sort of regret.

The sound of the juice boxes falling from their designated spots caught Jungwon’s attention. He whined at the sound, not wanting to go back at all.

Still, he couldn’t keep you waiting.

His plan of pretending nothing happened was now set in motion. It wouldn’t be that hard to forget the previous interaction, right?

“I hope you like orange juice—”

“Was that a confession earlier or was I going crazy?”

So much for pretending nothing happened.

He stumbled in his tracks, he was nowhere near your bed yet.

“Was it?” You asked, quite literally pestering a response from him.

Jungwon mumbled something to himself. Something along the lines of hoping he doesn’t mess things up further.

“Yes, it was.” He said, a heavy sigh following through.

Although his sigh sounded stressed, yours sounded relieved.

“Oh, that’s good. I thought I was the only one.” You said, causing Jungwon to make his way to your bed even faster.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his hands carrying the juice boxes and a confused expression on his face.

“Is it not obvious?” You asked, but he remained still.

Clearly, it wasn’t.

You sighed, disappointed that he couldn’t read between the lines with that brain of his.

“I like you too, Jungwon.”

RANK TEN.

“It really happened?!” Baekseung exclaimed, shocked. Jungwon covered his mouth with a hand, not wanting the whole world to hear about yesterday’s interaction.

“Then what?” Minji asked.

“It’s a secret.” Jungwon said with a teasing smile. Minji rolled her eyes at his response. It definitely wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

The classroom door slid open, gaining his attention quickly. You walked into the classroom, holding your books to your chest.

A smile of adoration made its way to Jungwon’s face as you looked over at him, smiling.

Minji observed the interaction with curious eyes.

“What the hell? Never do that again, please.” Baekseung said, removing Jungwon’s hand from his mouth.

“Wait so… Are you guys, well, dating now?” Minji asked.

“Woah, no.” He said, raising his hands up in defence.

“So, you guys just confessed to each other and that was all?” She asked in a more hushed tone since you arrived.

Jungwon nodded.

Minji was about to say something else, but the bell rang, cutting her off before she could even start. The teacher walked in, addressing everyone to return to their seats.

You smiled to yourself and pulled out your phone to send the boy a text.

“Nice one.” It read with a smiley emoji.

Jungwon’s phone dinged, causing him to look at it. A smile made its way to his face as he read the message.

He was lying to his friends the whole time. Yes, that was bad to do, but it was the best way of keeping your official relationship with each other a secret.

They could know you two confessed to each other, but not that you were dating.

To be honest, Jungwon never saw this coming. He always thought you would be someone he hated because he never knew it was possible to meet somebody who was at his level.

He truly thought he was dreaming when he first saw you and learned about that information.

But right now, he was thankful he wasn’t and was thankful that you were someone who he fell in love with.

741 notes · View notes

riaki · 5 months

Text

nice boys and sour hearts | satoru gojo x reader

wc: 4.6k cw: minor swearing, he refers to u as 'momma' once (its normal i promise) n i think thats about it post suguru defection, shoko typical smoking ; no established relationship b ur def more than friends

i didnt want this angst to be too intense so i made it super duper fluffy. hopes it tastes like strawberries to u cs it does in my head ; another one of those fics i whipped up to meet the weekend deadline b i’m actually proud of this one not proofread!

satoru hates arguing with you.

it bites at him; twists his heart from the inside out in such a gut-wrenching way that he can hardly stand seeing your nose wrinkle in frustration and your eyes narrow with impatience, let alone hear the words coming out of your mouth, dripping with venom and irritation directed at him. he's never been used to being on the receiving end.

it tastes sour; bitter on his tongue in a way he's never been accustomed to. his tastebuds only recognize the sweet taste of fruit syrup, powdered sugar, or warm chocolate as home; he never indulges in the bitter, like the black coffee the kid he took in seems to like so much. but he'll take the silly sour lemon drops with sweet cream in the center, only because they remind him of you. you, so sweet when you love but sour when you're annoyed, which happens to be now, in this instant.

of course, he'll tell himself he doesn't mind. that sweet and sour have always gone nicely together. like strawberry lemonade on hot summer afternoons when the both of you have had enough of being stuffed into a clammy hot classroom with your musclebrain teacher. sometimes its the three of you, maybe even the four of you if you get lucky with the pixie stick trade offering (a healthier alternative to a cigarette, you both agreed on). but nowadays, it was only ever the two of you. the bitter had chosen his own path, and tangy was locked up in the infirmary sun up to sun down.

but right now, you're upset with him. and he absolutely despises it— to him, it's abhorrent. a strong word, but it's only fitting. but he can't help it when your conversation lingers in his mind, spinning itself a web of self-doubt and hurt and anger as he slips his gym shoes off and redresses himself by the school lockers, running a hand through his hair with a forced, annoyed exhale.

it was nothing big, really. or at least, that's what he thinks. you'd been in the gym after school, watching as he messed around with the basketball, seeing how long he could go dribbling by himself with a bump of his knee there, pushing it to the floor with his hand and watching it bounce back up with mild interest. he had no one to play with, but at least the ball would come back up no matter how much he pushed it down.

it was small. barely worth fussing over.

he had already been irritated. it was hot out, because summer was coming around. sweat beaded on his neck and rolled down his chest, seeping into his shirt as he wiped his forehead and made another shoot at the hoop, landing back on his feet with a soft thud as the basketball rattled around the rusted metal ring and fell through the net for the nth time that afternoon.

a hum of approval comes from your throat, followed by a loud whistle of contentment from him as he watches the ball bounce on the floor. he hikes his sunglasses up his forehead, bringing an arm up and wiping away the sweat on his cheek with his sleeve as he turns to look at you.

"that was pretty good, yeah? i think i deserve a celebratory smooch. lay some sugar on me, momma'." he laughs, loud and arrogant. you just give him a pointed look at that, but he ignores it as a sign for something wrong and only acknowledges it as your dramatic endearment. like speeding up at the sight of a yellow light in hopes that you'll make it instead of slowing down at the warning.

his shoes made squeaking sounds on the gym floor as he made his way over to you, swiping his shades off his face and sliding them onto your forehead, nestling in your hair as he grabbed a rag from the bench and wiped the sweat from his jaw. you have his uniform jacket on your lap, the yellow button glinting in the dying sunlight filtering in through the windows, reflecting off indiscernible flecks of dust in the air.

you had watched him with quiet contentment, observing the languid way he moved, graceful like a dancer moving in water. but then, you seemed to remember something; his lips pressed into a thin line, tilted to one side in anticipation. it made you hesitate— he always knew when you were about to speak before you even opened your mouth. he had come to notice, and appreciate, little things about you like that.

"were you smoking with shoko?" you had asked him. he tilted his head, eyebrow cocked up as he made a face. "no, i wasn't. why d'ya ask?" he huffed, watching from the corner of his eye with mild disinterest as the basketball, still rolling from his previous goal, bumped into the wall. cocky as ever.

(he wouldn't even look you in the eye when you were being dead serious.)

you reach a hand into his jacket, fishing around for something in his pocket; that gets his attention. who knows what trinkets and candy wrappers he has in there? and he'd hate for you to send him to his yearly checkup early again; the nurses always try to coddle him, and he has half a mind to charge for battery. nevertheless, he almost mistakes what you pull out for a lollipop stick. but it's not— it's a cigarette; a white papery hit of cancer with a dead cherry. certainly not a wise idea to keep that in his pocket among the other very flammable wax wrappers and the occasional flower petal, but who were you to judge? you, who's lips pucker like they've just tasted lemon juice when he eyes the unlit cigarette, utterly unamused.

he knows that you know it's his; the subtle glistening of pink around the end points to the gloss on his lips; he can practically taste it on his tongue. he wonders if you'd put the cigarette to your mouth too if you could have a sample of his lipgloss; then again, you could always just ask for a lip-to-lip taste, and he'd indulge you without a second thought.

you twist the cigarette butt between your fingers so that he can see the remnants of faint strawberry pink on the edges. he just rolls his eyes with a loud huff, leaning his weight back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pant pockets.

"yeesh. you're such a goody two shoes, y'know? how come shoko's allowed to smoke 'n i'm not?" he drawls, an arrogant lilt to his voice as he sticks his lower lip out. you can see a matte spot where the gloss had been transferred to the cigarette paper. you just sigh exasperatedly (he feels like a kid when you do that) and lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees. his jacket bunches up in your lap.

you tap the cigarette to his chest a few times; it makes a soft thumping sound against the fabric, and for a moment he's grateful of the noise; it sounds just like the way his heartbeat picks up with each touch, but you don't hear it. he wonders if you ever will. maybe one day, when there isn't so much distance between you and he has the opportunity to tuck your head to his chest, right over his heart.

"it's not that i care about the lung damage, idiot. why were you smoking?" you asked, voice softening. and he absolutely hates when you do that, because it always pulls on his heartstrings and brings a flush to his face, the way you treat him. he thought that if you did it enough, he'd be sent to the doctor for heart palpitations instead of a sweet tooth.

he doesn't answer you at that. how could he tell you, when he knew all that'd result from it was a thorn in his side? you, being the rose. so beautiful but awfully prickly and unfairly sour like a lemondrop with a sweet inside. then again, he'd much rather have your interrogating care than lose you, like what had happened with the reason he was trying out smoking in the first place.

then, it happened— your voice went unbearably soft, like puffy white covers and featherlight pillows with silk covers on a saturday morning, looking out the window to see pink tulips against a cloudy blue sky as the sun streamed in. it almost made him want to clutch your hand over his chest and see if you could feel the way he was reacting. no doubt, it was filled with such patient tenderness; all-encompassing sweetness it made him want to cry. so he coughed to cover it up, averting his gaze and bringing one hand to his face to absentmindedly smooth down the strands of damp white hair hanging over his eyes.

"thinkin' about suguru again, are you?" you asked gently, tucking the cigarette back into your pocket—yours, not his—and reaching out to take his hand.

his lips parted ever so slightly, gaping like a goldfish. he knew he looked silly, and he should've been okay with that— because being vulnerable with you, out of everyone he ever knew (with maybe the exception of one) was easier than breathing; came more naturally to him than his gravitation to a challenge. the same could be said for sweets.

(maybe he'd have to re-evaluate his proclaimed taste, then. since you were more sour than sweet.)

but this time, he wasn't okay with it. it had been hard to talk about what had happened with suguru one year ago since— it formed a nasty lump in his throat, bitter like black coffee and the wrong mix of herbs. it made him feel weak. reminding him of his shortcomings, which, in his mind, shouldn't even exist in the first place. but you never had a problem ripping his problems from the shielded cavity in his gut, bringing them under the operator's light to dissect and solve like a surgeon. forget about forcing him to the doctor's— at this point, you should be the one in the white coat, not shoko. he thinks about what you'd look like with blue gloves on your delicate fingers for a moment too long.

"what's it to you?" he snaps back after what feels like three years of his life. his fingers tighten around yours for a moment before he pulls his hand away abruptly.

the frown that lingered on your face from then on had been burned into his memory.

and, well, that was his mistake. it spiraled from there— because he knew what it was to you, and he hated that. hated that you could see straight through him like a cloud blue stained glass window; without rose colored lenses like the ones he always wore (the ones he rocked, he thinks).

a crack of thunder overhead jolts him from his thoughts; he couldn't even get in there to dust the spiderwebs away before being jerked back into reality. he clicks his tongue in disappointment, watching as the skies pry themselves open and rain begin to fall in the way it only did over heavy summer showers. he wishes the sky would stop its weeping, but even the strongest has his limitations.

but it doesn't matter. he has one of those cheap plastic umbrellas he'd bought from a convenience store one day in a late march many moons ago, during the brightest blue spring of his life. and so, he didn't understand why he was lingering at the door, swinging the umbrella around his fingers by the hook on the handle, watching as the rain fell with increased fervor. there was no plastic button to keep the folds tied up, so it floundered around with each swing like a tulip bent by monsoon winds. maybe on the coast of some faraway land with windmills and fields of flowers. he wonders if he'll ever get to see the world with you someday— a fleeting thought that crumbles instantly when he conjures your pretty face in his vision, clear yet distorted like a reflection on a glazed pond, rippling water from the dragonflies that skipped over the surface.

you were definitely still angry with him, because you hadn't showed— normally, you'd walk home together. sometimes with shoko, if she didn't leave early. angry words echo in his mind, the image of your downturned lips swimming in his bright vision as he watches the rain streak down the window panes by the lockers. there's a fog settling over the grass outside that's sure to leave dew after the storm. he wonders when that'll be.

"why can't you ever take me seriously? can't you see i'm worried about you?"

"of course i can. but i don't need your damn concern!”

...

he'd been sorely mistaken, that was for sure. loosing his cool and snapping at you wasn't exactly something he took pleasure in, either way. he leans back on his heels, tapping his foot impatiently as he holds the umbrella like a cane against the floor. infinity could probably do away with the rain. another reason as to why he's not even sure why he's waiting here, or why he's holding an umbrella. perhaps to keep in case he has to offer it to some poor, shivering and cowering young maiden lost beneath the shading of a bus stop behind a curtain of rain droplets, with a charming grin and a wink.

maybe.

a shuffle behind him catches his ear; he turns his head, an unamused expression on his face as his eyes drift over the empty room to land on you. the shadows beneath your eyes are prominent, and your hair is unkempt. there are sleep lines on your face; you probably fell asleep in a classroom somewhere, which is why you delayed.

it was evident you weren't expecting to see him, though— with the way your eyes widened a little before they dropped again, nose bridge wrinkling slightly as if you'd caught the scent of something unpleasant. your eyes left his, and he felt a little disappointed as he watched them wander toward the window, where the current downpour was prominent. he didn't like the way it made his chest pang when your attention was anywhere but him, so he raised his hand lazily, tilting his head to catch your attention that he so clearly craved.

"yo. got an umbrella?" he calls, tapping the tip of his budget cane on the floor. the thud is the only sound for a while as your gaze wanders back over to him; reluctant.

"no, i don't. i didn't expect it to rain so hard today." you responded quietly, stepping over to him with a small sigh. almost a little resigned, he thinks. he can't be sure, though. he never is with you. doesn't know whether to expect his candy to be sour in the center or the other way around; but maybe he likes a bit of uncertainty every once in a while. (not with you, though. if it means arguing? never with you.)

his sunglasses are hooked around the collar of your shirt. he doesn't know why it takes him so long to realize, but when he does, he has to clear his throat in an effort to hide the heat on his face and do away with the blush. "here. take mine. i don't need it," he says curtly, offering his umbrella to you. he wants to snatch the shades from your shirt, but he doesn't want anything to go wrong, so he just eyes them warily, careful not to let his gaze slip past into anything you'd be pissed at him for.

you eye him, eyes narrowed as you raise an eyebrow, but you don't protest. your fingers brush against his for a brief moment when you take it, shaking it a little before opening the door and stepping outside, opening it up. it looks like a little clear plastic mushroom cap over your head; you're short enough to constitute as the stalk in his eyes. it's a little funny, but he has to stifle the laugh bubbling on his tongue lest you think he's making a mock of you.

he follows after you, slipping past to stand at your side with his hands in his pockets. you can't help but feel a little curious despite your prolonged anger (you like holding grudges, he knows), so you sneak a glance upward to satiate your wonder. you don't expect him to look as breathtaking as he does.

the clouds are light overhead; they're not a heavy blanket of gray anymore, and a small strip of light manages to push through, shining on satoru's pale white hair. you can make out the edge of his undercut against his neck when the wind picks up a little, the color of fluffy white clouds on a lavender sunset with the sway of yellow flowers beneath an expanse of a bright sky. there's a little cat hair on the collar of his jacket; you realize with a faint flush that it must've been from when you were holding his jacket for him in the gym. somehow, the cat you have at home found its way to satoru. you hope your pet has become a matchmaking fortune teller, for the sake of your happiness.

what catches your eye the most, though, isn't the cat hair on his dark jacket or the faraway look in his misty blue eyes; it's the outline of rain water around him, a product of his infinity, you realize. he's dry underneath the downpour, and it never ceases to amaze you. it's like there's a soft glowing halo against the backdrop of tangled wires, gray walls and pale green bushes— he looks like an angel boy, school bag hooked and hanging over one shoulder.

eventually, you manage to peel your gaze away, and he notices— looks down at you, pressing his lips together and running his tongue over them. he can taste strawberry gloss.

wordlessly, you start walking. and he follows suit, rain bouncing off of him; you catch yourself sneaking glances from under the roof of your clear umbrella between raindrops that slide down the clear plastic. sometime during the walk home, he had gone off and gotten himself a drink from a nearby vending machine— the red can catches your eye, and your fingers curl around the rubber handle of the lent umbrella as you watch him drink; the bob of his adam's apple before he crushes the can up and tosses it into a nearby bush, causing a brief scattering of leaves and a downpour of collecting droplets onto the pavement.

despite the rain, the weeds between the cracks in the sidewalk still stay strong; they have deep roots. much like the way you never fail to scowl at him for littering. he catches it— of course he does. he's been praying for a sign you're not still so hopelessly angry with him that you can't even bring yourself to have a civil walk in the summer rain together. after the scowl, though, comes the smile— the one that always makes him melt in his shoes, much like the sunshine after the rain.

and there it is at last, he thinks. the hard sour coating melts away on his tongue, draining the taste of lemon to reveal a sweet, genuine center. all it takes is time. your lips curve up, and you duck your head, hiding the small bemused laugh that leaves you breathless.

"what are you laughin' at?" he huffs, glaring down at you. but there's no malice behind it— if only you could feel the wave of relief that's washed over him, a crest of white foam that leaves behind still waters reflected in the pools of sapphire in his eyes. nothing like the hit of numbing nicotine he'd shared in the shade of an alleyway with shoko earlier that day— away from the sun; away from you. hidden from both. or maybe they were the same— to him, he couldn't differentiate.

"i'm not laughing!" you protested weakly, immediately wiping the grin from your lips, and he regrets speaking up. "just.. i dunno."

you walk in silence for a little longer, content to listen to the rain lighten up overhead. satoru kicks a plastic onigiri wrapper out of the way, splashing up a puddle as a frown dampens his face when the wrapping only clings to his shoes. he's fine with getting a little grumpy if it means seeing you smile again. and even better, you laugh again— so sweet, like the chiming of bells in the wind's melody.

"please don't do that again." your voice sounds so very small when he hears it again, and he looks down at you from beneath long white lashes, the corner of his lips quirked up. the shape of them is almost cat-like, you think. he doesn't even know what you're talking about— a vague idea, at best— but he won't do it. not if it means hearing you sound so pathetically... sad. he doesn't like it. it's far too bitter for his taste. let the black betta you both used to know indulge in dark coffee and bitter cologne— satoru likes things sweet, like the cream surrounded by tea leaf matcha in the center of his mochi and fluttering feeling he gets when you run your hands through his hair, fluffing it up to your heart's content.

(as long as your heart is happy, his is, too.)

"i won't. happy now?" he sticks his tongue out, making a face. but you both know he means it— he hates breaking his promises to you. you smile when you look up at him again with a small nod, and he feels his knees wobble a little. he just hopes you don't notice. "sorry for lying. i just.. don't like it when you're mad at me. and you look at me like that," he mumbles under his breath, bunching up the fabric of his pants between his fingers. then, after a moment, "geez, you're so dramatic. quit carin' so much." he really hopes you don't stop, and it makes him feel like the world's biggest hypocrite. the strongest, but so weak for you.

"sorry, can't. the day you stop crushing your soda cans and littering is the day i'll stop caring, 'cus that won't be my satoru anymore." you tease. and he laughs, throwing his head back so you don't see the red that spreads across his cheeks, dusting his skin like powdered sugar on top of a strawberry crepe. he always wants to be your satoru, so he figures he'll keep littering. a few money fines here and there mean nothing to his undentable wallet, or the erratic beating of his heart, trapped against his ribcage in a feathery blooming of flowers he only gets from you and your pretty smile underneath the layer of lemony sourness.

you walk along the road for a little while longer. the rain has lightened, but it's still going— incessant, dripping from the leaves of trees and the knotted black wires overhead. he still has his infinity up, which means he can't pet the cat the two of you spot on your way back, but he's perfectly content to watch you do it. you scratch its chin, smiling at the way it purrs and nuzzles into your hand, and he wonders if he'd do the same if he was in its position.

he's lost in thought when you speak to him again, shoes splashing against murky puddles in the backdrop of a never-sleeping city; tokyo's bright skyline always makes your eyes go round with wonder. you say something, and he chuckles, warm and velvety. and then you realize what's been off with him this whole time— he doesn't have his shades on.

you slip them off the collar of your shirt, smoothing down the fabric before you reach over and attempt to nudge his arm. you don't think it'll work, because he still has his infinity up— and your sleeves are already getting spattered by rain that leaves darkened wet spots on the cotton. but to your amazement, your fingers make contact with his sleeve, and you watch in wonder as the rain actually falls— soaks into that little patch of wet fabric that you're able to feel on his arm. that he's turned his infinity off in that one spot so you could touch him. you spare a glance up at him, only to find his head angled away from you. you might be hallucinating, but the tips of his ears seem red.

you don't linger on it before you're tugging on his shirt with a frown, getting him to look down at you as you unfold his glasses and offer them over to him. he takes them quickly, and you don't miss the way the rain stops falling onto his arm again, back to bouncing off the invisible shield that protects him from everything (but you, it seems). he slips his dark shades back over his eyes, obscuring oceans of pure blue that seem like they've trickled in from the purest snowcaps on the distant mountains dotted with old red tori gates and shrines with scrapped paint. but you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your lips this time— giddy and fresh and filled with youth, blossoming like sakura petals in a spring that seems so far away yet so close with his presence by your side.

you don't say anything for a while. you're content to watch the rain wash down the pavement and into the gutters, past cute little coffee shops and parks with ponds as the droplets from the sky scatter the water in part of a never-ending cycle; watering the surface of the earth and bringing life that would soon spring up as shroomcaps and fresh dew on the clean cut green grass. you wonder what satoru sees through his lenses— though, you already know. you've worn them plenty of times before, when he insists on having your perfume cling to the frame for long missions he's sent on alone, when he can't have you hold his jacket, or his hand, or scold him for sneaking a smoke when you're not watching. that, and the extra lemondrops he keeps in his pocket; gifts from you that he's fought hard for.

you're more prepared to not feel any interference of his infinity this time when you reach over, and this time you don't go for his sleeve—yanking him close to you by his hand and forcing him beneath your umbrella. you feel the way he freezes up for a moment, but his fingers fill in the gaps between your own like its the most natural thing in the world, palms pressed together in a little breathless hug that leaves no room for the humid air.

"don't waste your infinity on the rain, dumbass. you'll fry what little is left of your brain." you scold him, and he just grumbles and scoffs angrily under his breath, cursing you as he hunches over and ducks his head to fit under the umbrella to negate his height. his hair brushes against the plastic roof of the umbrella, and his lanky limbs are still awkwardly sticking out, but his fingers tighten around yours and his thumb rubs over your knuckles, still a little damp from your earlier encounter with the rain, and you can't help but smile a smile bright enough to wash away every last bit of cloud in the sky. his personal sunshine.

even though he still prefers sweet things, satoru's come to like the taste of lemondrops. sweet and sour go well together, after all. just like you and him.

its okay if it doesnt taste like anything to u as long as u enjoyed it :) thanks for reading !! the black betta in question is suguru btw my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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